Thrall - Christie Golden [56]
“For Ysera, and especially for Desharin, who gave his life that I might find you, Timeless One, I will help. But I will need to know more. I fear I have been operating in the dark most of this time.”
“Considering Ysera sought you out, that does not sssurprise me,” Nozdormu said, dryly but with affection. “She is ssseldom clear. Thrall, son of Durotan and Draka, you have my deepest thanksss. We will share with you what we can … but you must undertake this alone. This theory, this conviction—I must know more if I am to truly know what we must do. Do not worry: I will not forget that which you have reminded me to remember. I will not get lost in the timeways a sssecond time. It is a difficult task I ssset before you, but one that could sssave everything. You must find Alexstrasza the Life-Binder, and rouse her from her grief.”
“What happened?” Thrall inquired.
“I was not present, yet I know,” said Nozdormu. Thrall nodded. If Nozdormu had been trapped in every moment, of course he would know. “There was a meeting of the various flightsss at Wyrmrest Temple not very long ago. It was the first sssuch since the death of Malygosss, and the end of the Nexus War.
“Alexstrasza’s mate, Korialstrasz, whom you knew as Krasus, lingered behind in the Ruby Sanctum. Each flight has a sssanctum, a sort of … dimension that is jussst for them. The meeting was interrupted by an attack from a flight known as the twilight dragonflight—who ssserve Deathwing and the Twilight’s Hammer cult.”
Thrall frowned. “I know of this cult,” he said.
“During the battle, there was a terrible implosion. Every one of the sssanctums was destroyed. With them went Krasus … and all the eggs in every sssanctum. He killed them all.”
Thrall stared at the bronze dragon. He thought of what he had seen of Krasus: calm, intelligent, caring. “He … he murdered them? All of them?”
“So it would seem,” growled Anachronos. His tail lashed and his eyes were narrowed.
Thrall shook his head firmly. “No. I don’t believe it. There must be some reason, some explanation—”
“The Life-Binder is devastated,” Nozdormu interrupted. “Imagine how she mussst feel. To think that her dearest love had either gone mad, or been in league with the cult—it has shattered her. Without their Aspect, the reds will not lend their aid to fight the Twilight Cult. And without the redsss, there is no chance of victory. All will be lossst.”
He turned his great eyes upon Thrall and said intently, “You must remind her of her duties—of her heart’s ability to care for othersss, even when it is wounded. Can you do this, Thrall?”
Thrall had no idea. It was a daunting task. Could no dragon accomplish it? He had no personal connection with her. How in the world could he convince her to put aside such powerful grief and rejoin a battle?
“I will try,” was all Thrall could answer.
Alexstrasza did not remember where she had been for most of the last several days. Nor did she have any thought as to where she would go. She simply flew, blinded by pain and a desire to escape from it, and let her wings take her where they would.
She had flown over empty gray expanses of ocean, over elven lands and corrupted forests and winterscapes, until she reached this place which seemed as lonely and broken and empty as she was. Her final destination, she had decided, would be in Desolace—a fitting name, she thought bitterly.
She transformed and walked on two feet south from the Stonetalon Mountains. She passed a battle between Horde and Alliance, and gave it no heed; let the short-lived races destroy themselves. It was no concern of hers any longer. She passed a scarred vale pulsing with lava and temperatures only a black dragon could endure, and spared it only a dull glance. Let the world destroy itself. Her love was gone—her love, who had, perhaps, betrayed her and all she had fought for.
Alexstrasza cursed herself, her flight, the other flights; she cursed the titans, who had bequeathed such a burden upon her. She had not asked for it and now realized that she could not bear it.
She removed her boots, wanting