A Nerubian's Journey - Chapter 59

When Krivax decided to inspect the orcish internment camps to see how the Horde prisoners were being treated, he’d expected it to be an unpleasant experience. Things weren’t quite as bad as he’d thought, but they certainly weren’t good.

“Are the camps normally this chaotic?” asked Krivax as he watched the orcish internment camp from a tower overlooking the complex.

“It was far worse when we first started. The orcs have already calmed down significantly since the war ended, though there’s quite a long way to go, ” said Turalyon, former student of Archbishop Faol and current paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand.

He also happened to be one of the men overseeing the Church of Holy Light’s efforts in the many orc internment camps. The actual Overseer of this camp was conveniently away on business, so Turalyon had offered to show him around in their stead. Krivax noticed that the paladin was quite curious about the changes to his appearance, but was thankfully far too polite to say anything out loud.

“This is calm?!” Krivax exclaimed incredulously.

Orc men, women, and children were being corralled by armed guards to the center of the camp where a priest was handing out rations.

The orcs were more than a little hostile to their captors. Some of them snarled and bared their teeth, while others spat curses in their native tongue. Krivax even saw several of them make aggressive moves against the guards until they were forced back into line by spearpoint.

Turalyon sighed, his expression grim. “Unfortunately, yes. The prisoners were far more aggressive in the immediate aftermath of the war. It was even common for the captured orcs to throw themselves onto the spears of the guards rather than face the dishonor of captivity. Most of the ones who wished to die have already done so by now, so the situation has stabilized somewhat.”

“That’s… horrible,” Krivax muttered as he watched an orc child cling to its mother and glare hatefully at the guards. “How is the food situation in the Eastern Kingdoms? Are you able to properly sustain their rations? I’ve only just been able to return from Azjol-Nerub and I was a bit too… busy to keep a close eye on the situation here.”

That was a big understatement as far as Krivax was concerned. The Queens were extremely optimistic about what they would be able to do with what they’ve learned from studying him so far. He’d even heard one of them mention that they might be able to design an entirely new caste, which was no small feat.

The Queens had run test after test on his new abilities and taken every biological sample they could reasonably acquire from his body. Unfortunately, it turned out that what they could reasonably acquire was far more than he had expected given their access to magic…

Krivax shuddered and forced his mind back to the present.

“The food situation is quite dire, but we should be able to sustain our current rate of consumption,” said Turalyon with a furrowed brow. “Much of our farmland is destroyed or damaged, but the rest is nearly in a state of permanent harvest thanks to the Red Dragonflight. The Alliance has also dictated that the orcs only be fed the minimum necessary to sustain them, which is much less than expected. I don’t like it, but there will be a chance to make a change once the situation improves.”

Krivax wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that, but he understood why the Alliance had made such a decision.

Stretching his new senses over the camp, Krivax could distinctly feel the many thousands of lives around him as warm flames, and he was struck by how similar the different races felt to him. The only exception was the Drakonid and Dragonspawn guards sent by the Red Dragonflight to help guard the camps. The Drakonid and Dragonspawn were draconic races that served the Dragonflights and resembled tall humanoid dragons and large centaur-shaped dragons respectively. Krivax could feel a strange hint of familiarity within them that reminded him of his new wellspring of power.

“I can see that most of the guards here are being provided by Azjol-Nerub and the Red Dragonflight. Are they to your satisfaction, Sir Turalyon?” Krivax asked as he observed the draconic and nerubian guards throughout the camp. “I understand that many nations aren’t particularly enthusiastic about spending resources or manpower on these camps. I hope our warriors have proven themselves up to the task.”

Turalyon nodded, his eyes softening somewhat. “Yes, the warriors sent by Azjol-Nerub and the Red Dragonflight have been invaluable. Their discipline and adherence to given orders have been commendable, and they’ve done a lot to keep the camp relatively stable. Circumstances would be much worse without their assistance.”

Krivax felt relief at the paladin’s words, although he wasn’t very surprised. If there was one thing that generally nerubians did well, it was taking orders. The Drakonids and Dragonspawns were raised from the egg to be servants, so they were similarly devoted to their duties. There would be little risk of them growing lax or abusing the prisoners under their watch.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Krivax said genuinely. “Things could certainly be better around here, but they could also be much worse. I’ll be sure to inform the High King that the camps are in good hands.”

That was a lie. High King Anub’arak didn’t care about the orcs enough to receive status updates about them, but it felt like the polite thing to say.

“I’m glad to hear that Vizier Krivax,” Turalyon replied with a hint of gratitude in his voice. “The Church of the Holy Light has been doing its best to ensure the safety of the prisoners while also bringing them to the Light, but I admit it has been… difficult. Azjol-Nerub’s support has been indispensable.”

Both the missionaries sent by the Church as well as the shamans sent by the Wildhammer weren’t having much success with converting the orcs, mostly due to their continued hostility. Krivax hoped that would change once the Fel magic began to leave their system and their lethargy began to kick in, making them more docile and open to new ideas.

Deciding that he’d seen enough of the camps, Krivax addressed his primary reason for traveling to the Hillsbrad Foothills. “Thank you for showing me around, SIr Turalyon, but there is another matter that I could use your help with.”

Turalyon looked up at him with a curious expression. “Oh? If it’s within my power, then I will do my best to be of assistance.”

“I see no reason why it wouldn’t be. There is a noble by the name of Aedas Blackmoore, the current lord of Durnholde Keep, who I intend to confront. I’ve recently received word from an anonymous informant that he has committed a crime,” Krivax explained.

Aedelas Blackmoore was the current slaveowner of a young orc called Thrall, birth name Go’el, who would grow up to be an immensely important figure in Azeroth’s history. Thrall had the potential to become the most powerful shaman in the world as well as the future Warchief of the orcs and New Horde, and Krivax had no intention of allowing him to stay where he currently was.

“The information is specific enough that I feel compelled to check, but I doubt Queen Regent Menethil would move against one of her nobles without hard evidence,” Krivax continued. Obviously, there wasn’t any evidence at all as he couldn’t exactly cite the words of the goblins he’d hired to sneak into Durnholde Keep. “I would like you to come with me as a witness, as well as to keep the peace. As long as I get close enough, I should be able to verify if there is any credence to what I’ve been told.”

His new ability to sense Life should be enough to lead him to Thrall once he got to Durnholde Keep. Orcs and humans felt very similar, but not enough to be indistinguishable.

Turalyon considered Krivax’s request for a moment before asking the obvious question. “What exactly were you told about Lord Blackmoore? I’ve heard certain rumors about the man, but he performed well during the war and made quite a name for himself. He has also apparently become a mentor figure to the Prince of Alterac and the close friend of one of the paladins of my order.”

“It’s admittedly a rather minor matter, but I’ve been told that Lord Blackmoore found an orcish infant during the First War and decided to raise him as a slave and train him in combat,” said Krivax. Although the enslavement of Thrall was fully legal in the original timeline, Queen Regent Menethil and other Alliance leaders hadn’t yet allowed such a thing within Lordaeron. The former members of the Horde were still only prisoners of war at this time, not slaves.

Slavery was generally banned within the Eastern Kingdoms as slavery was considered to be morally repugnant by the Church, but the hatred for the orcs was starting to grow stronger than religious piety. Krivax had already heard whispers that a few different nations were considering proposals to change that to make use of the orcs as unpaid laborers to rebuild what they had destroyed, which was why it was important he acted before that could happen.

“You can see why I have come to you. There are very few people who would consider offending a powerful noble for an orcish child, but I’ve heard that you are a man of principle and compassion,” Krivax continued, hoping to appeal to Turalyon’s sense of justice.

It was difficult to overstate how much hatred there was toward the orcs. The average human would rather kill an orc themself than rescue it from enslavement, but Krivax remembered Turalyon to be one of the most compassionate and soft-hearted of the paladins.

Sure enough, Turalyon’s eyes narrowed as a mixture of concern and anger flickered across his face. “If what you say is true, then I can understand your worry. The orcs have been led astray by dark magic, but we are all children of the Light. I will accompany you to Durnholde Keep and we will investigate if there is any truth to this matter.”

Krivax felt a wave of relief wash over him at the paladin’s easy agreement. Thrall was the last urgent matter related to the future of Azeroth that he needed to deal with for quite a while. After this was done, Krivax would finally have some time to himself when he didn’t need to be scheming or desperately trying to change the course of history.

He had been terrified out of his mind at first when he realized that Nozdormu knew about his metaknowledge, but he couldn’t deny that a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

Of course, Krivax still had plans on improving the situation in Azeroth as the head diplomat of Azjol-Nerub, but the most important points in his plan wouldn’t happen until he was sent to Kalimdor. The High King estimated that they wouldn’t be ready for that for another year, which would give Krivax plenty of time to relax as much as someone in his position could and grow accustomed to his new power. He also hoped to spend some time catching up with Masruk and maybe visiting the Tuskarr villages.

Krivax could already imagine himself lying lazily in a silk hammock, eating a plate full of shrimp, and reading a book on golem crafting.

“Really? Then let’s go now!” Krivax said with perhaps a touch too much enthusiasm.

Turalyon raised an eyebrow at Krivax’s eagerness but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he nodded and said, “Very well, Vizier Krivax. Let us depart for Durnholde Keep.”

Krivax gathered his guards and informed them of their new destination. Durnholde Keep wasn’t very far from the internment camp they were currently in, so the journey wouldn’t be a long one. As Krivax made his way to rescue Azeroth’s destined Chosen One with a righteous paladin by his side, he couldn’t help but fantasize about an easy future filled with magical experimentation and handling minor diplomatic issues.

He knew deep in his heart that his fantasies were unrealistic as the Burning Legion and Old Gods would inevitably react to the changes he had made, but a nerubian could hope, right?

Malygos watched in anticipation as Archaedas and a few of Uldum’s guardians worked to configure the device that would soon open a portal to the Elemental Domain of Earth, Deepholm.

Piercing the defenses hiding Uldum from the rest of Azeroth was not easy, but Archaedas was intimately familiar with the facility’s concealment magic and Malygos was the greatest mage in Azeroth, regardless of what Nozdormu might say about Azshara. Their success was inevitable, especially after the strange little prophet had told them exactly where they needed to search on Kalimdor.

Once there, it had been a relatively simple matter to handle Uldum’s inhabitants so they could begin working on a path to Deepholm.

The Curse of Flesh had affected the constructs assigned to the facility’s maintenance and security, turning them into mortals that possessed feline lower bodies and heads as well as an elven torso. The so-called ‘tol’vir’ had devolved into many competing tribes that built several cities in the desert around Uldum. They were all still fanatically loyal to the Titans and quickly acknowledged the Keeper’s authority once his identity was verified… for the most part.

A few petty tol’vir rulers claimed that Archaedas was a fraud in a blatant attempt to hold onto their authority, but that hadn’t been much of an issue. There was no mortal force of Azeroth that could deny the wishes of four Aspects and a Keeper when they were all working toward the same goal.

The device, an enormous circular gate, had once served as a pathway for the Keepers and their forces to access the Elemental Plane if they ever so needed. The veil separating Azeroth from the Elemental Plane was particularly weak in Uldum, which was why the Keepers chose to build the device there. Predictably, a foolish mortal tol’vir by the name of Irmaat had attempted to exploit this phenomenon to harness forces beyond his ability to control. As a result, one of the tol’vir cities had been destroyed for his hubris and Uldum had become closely aligned to the Elemental Domain of Wind, Skywall.

Unless Malygos and his siblings wanted to fight through an army of air elementals on their way to Neltharion, they would have to wait for Archaedas to finish recalibrating the device to Deepholm.

“I can’t believe we’re so close to finally putting an end to this nightmare,” said Alexstrasza, her voice tinged with sadness despite the resolve Malygos could see in her eyes.

There wasn’t a single one among them who wasn’t eager to put an end to Neltharion, especially after hearing in detail what he would have done to Azeroth without the little prophet’s intervention.

“This isn’t how I expected it would happen,” Ysera said solemnly. “I had envisioned that our brother’s fate would be decided at the end of a grand battle, but this feels much more like an execution.”

Without the intervention of a third party, the outcome of this endeavor was already decided. Even if Neltharion wasn’t already seriously wounded from their last encounter, there was little chance he would be able to win a fight against the five of them.

“Fate often takes unexpected paths,” Nozdormu remarked, his gaze drifting as he looked at something none of them could see. “There are times when even the mightiest beings meet their end with barely a whisper.”

“So long as the traitor meets his end, I don’t care how it happens,” Malygos said firmly. While his siblings were very concerned about Azeroth’s dismal future, he found it difficult to care about anything other than Neltharion’s death.

Malygos wished that he could draw out the vermin’s suffering, but prior experience was an effective teacher. He had every intention of putting an end to this as quickly as possible.

Alexstrasza glanced at him with a worried expression but was wise enough not to say anything. Instead, she merely sighed and turned her attention back to the gate. “I truly wish it hadn’t come to this.”

A part of Malygos wanted to scoff, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Before… everything, he was closer to Neltharion than to any of his other siblings. Ysera and Nozdormu were both too consumed by their own duties while Alexstrasza’s outlook on the world was just too different from his own. There had been a time when Malygos had considered Neltharion to be his best friend, and he was quite sure the feeling was mutual.

Malygos could still remember when Neltharion had come to him for help when he started to lose control of his little experiments…

Despite this, their bond had not been enough to prevent Neltharion from taking everything away from him and leaving Malygos a hollow husk of the dragon he once was. Feeling his mind begin to spiral as it always did when he thought of the past, Malygos forcefully pushed the memories away and focused instead on the present. His vengeance was finally at hand and he wouldn’t allow it to slip away for a second time.

After nearly an hour of waiting, Archaedasr finally managed to recalibrate the gate, and the portal to Deepholm sprang to life in a burst of shimmering energy. Malygos could already feel the dense elemental energy emanating from the portal.

“It is done,” Archaedas announced, his stone features as unchanging as ever. “Our route to the fallen Aspect is open. We must not delay, or else we risk allowing Therazane the Stonemother a path to Azeroth.”

The Elemental Lords were sealed away for good reason, and nothing good would come from their escape. Ragnaros, the Lord of Fire, had successfully done so and that was already trouble enough for all of them. The little prophet claimed that Therazane and Neptulon the Tidehunter were less hostile than Ragnaros and Al’akir the Windlord, but it would be wise to avoid unnecessary risks.

“Then let us go,” said Alexstrasza as she walked toward the portal. “This has gone on for long enough.”

After Malygos finished casting his most powerful concealment spells over the group, the Aspects stepped through the portal one after another with the Keeper following close behind.

In his long life, Malygos had seen Deepholm a few times for primarily research purposes, but he’d seldom had the opportunity to actually visit the Elemental Plane in person.The difficulty of penetrating the barrier and the risk of attracting an Elemental Lord’s attention simply made it not worth the risk. Malygos spent a moment taking in his new surroundings. It was rare for someone such as him to have new experiences, after all.

Almost immediately, Malygos found his attention drawn to the massive structure in the center of Deepholm. It reminded him somewhat of Wrymrest Temple and had obviously been built by the Keepers when they created the Elemental Plane. It was likely that Archaedas himself had been heavily involved in the project. The Temple of Earth had served to hold and protect an artifact called the World Pillar, which separated the Elemental Plane from the rest of Azeroth.

If Neltharion was to destroy the World Pillar as the little prophet claimed he would, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Pulling his gaze away from the temple, Malygos turned his attention to the rest of Deepholm. It took on the appearance of a gigantic underground cavern with stone pillars jutting out from the ceiling and floor. Boulders could be seen floating through the air and elemental creatures of all shapes and sizes moved about, oblivious to the powerful beings that had just entered their realm. Malygos could even see a few dragons made of stone flying in the distance. It felt strange to see nonsapient elementals that looked so similar to his own people, especially when the origins of these dragon-shaped elementals were unclear.

Although thinking about everything he knew about Neltharion, it was likely that the stone dragons were another one of his discarded experiments.

Glowing crystals illuminated the cavernous expanse, casting eerie, dancing shadows across the craggy walls. The air was heavy with the scent of earth, and the distant rumble of shifting stone echoed throughout Deepholm.

“We should find Neltharion and leave this place as quickly as possible,” said Ysera, her expression distinctly uncomfortable. “There is barely any plant life here at all, and I find it difficult to feel the Emerald Dream. It’s… unsettling.”

“It is a strange place to be sure. Elementals always feel different to my senses than most other beings,” said Alexstrasza as she curiously took in her surroundings.

“I can sense the fallen Aspect to the east,” said Archaedas, his eyes narrowing with distaste as he gestured in the direction he needed to go. “Your descriptions of Neltharion’s corruption were not exaggerated. His very presence befouls the gift bestowed upon him by the Makers.”

Malygos scoffed but didn’t give voice to the derision he felt toward the Keeper. The Titans had truly done well when they instilled blind loyalty into their construct.

With Archaedas leading the way, the group began making their way through Deepholm while carefully avoiding the native elementals. Malygos’ magic and Archaedas’ natural connection to the earth would be enough to veil them from notice for some time, but it wouldn’t last forever. They continued onward, moving at a brisk pace and keeping their senses sharp for any sign of danger.

Before long, Archaedas informed them that they were approaching Neltharion’s location and Malygos began to feel the increasing presence of the Void. A few more minutes of travel saw the five of them standing on a ridge overlooking a large lava-filled ravine. The ravine itself had signs of being artificially created and was unnaturally dark when compared to the rest of Deepholm.

However, Malygos barely paid any attention to the nature of the ravine when he spotted his corrupted brother. Neltharion obviously wasn’t expecting anyone to follow him to Deepholm and was currently resting in a pool of lava without a care in the world. Malygos felt a rush of anger at the sight.

How dare he be so at ease after everything that he’s done!

“Good. Neltharion seems to be unaware of our presence,” Alexstrasza whispered, despite the fact that Malygos’ magic prevented any sound from passing beyond their group. “This is the perfect opportunity for us to strike and end this without a prolonged conflict. If everyone remembers their roles, I propose we begin immediately.”

Everyone quickly came to an agreement and prepared themselves for battle. Once they were ready, the Aspects shed their mortal forms and went on the attack. Malygos immediately teleported into the air above Neltharion before he began preparing the spell that would end his brother’s life.

Neltharion instantly sensed the buildup of arcane magic and his eyes flew open. Malygos could see the intense shock in his brother’s eyes as he realized what was happening and who was attacking him.

Before Neltharion could react, Ysera summoned a flurry of thorny vines that dug into his wounds and ensnared his limbs. Alexstrasza launched herself from the edge of the ravine and slammed into Neltharion’s trapped form. The Dragon Queen’s attacks lacked their usual mercy and she quickly grasped one of Neltharion’s wings between her powerful jaws and began pulling with her full strength.

Malygos savored the sound of tearing flesh and the screams of agonizing pain that soon followed.

Neltharion exploded in dark flames that burned away Ysera’s vines and tried to skewer Alexstrasza with giant spikes of stone, but Archaedas contested his control over the earth and prevented him from doing so.

It’s ready…

Several hundred arcane glyphs suddenly appeared in the middle of the air as Malygos finished his spell, surrounding Neltharion from every direction. Beams of pure arcane energy lanced out from each glyph, converging toward the fallen Aspect with enough force to annihilate anything they touched.

Alexstrasza, who was tearing into Neltharion and pinning him in place, suddenly disappeared moments before the attack struck as Nozdormu pulled her back through time onto the ridge.

Neltharion, unable to escape, roared in pain and desperation as the beams struck him, his scales cracking and shattering under the onslaught. His dark, corrupted blood spilled into the lava below, turning the molten rock an unnatural shade of black. The power behind Malygos’ spell was so immense that space itself seemed to distort and ripple from the intensity of the arcane magic unleashed.

A being as powerful as Neltharion would normally be able to shrug off such an attack… if he wasn’t already so heavily injured.

The other Aspects as well as Archaedas joined in on the assault, with Alexstrasza bathing Neltharion in Life-infused flames that seared through his corrupted flesh and Ysera sending her most potent nightmares to torment his mind. Nozdormu unleashed torrents of sand that ground away at Neltharion’s scales, hastening the passage of time around his wounds and forcing the corrupted Aspect to experience years, decades, and then centuries without rest. Archaedas summoned immense stone fists that slammed into Neltharion and further pinned him down.

Neltharion’s roars of agony filled Deepholm, echoing through the cavernous expanse. However, even as his body was ravaged and his strength sapped, the fallen Aspect refused to yield. Desperation fueled his actions, and he lashed out with vicious blasts of Void and fire, seeking to break free from the relentless onslaught.

It was all useless as the combined efforts of the Aspects and the Keeper proved too much for the weakened Neltharion to overcome. With each passing moment, his resistance waned, and his once-might form was battered and torn apart. His roars of pain began to fade, replaced by the sound of labored breath and pitiful whimpers.

Malygos could see the exact moment that Neltharion realized that he was going to die. The fallen Aspect’s eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and terror, and he locked gazes with Malygos.

Realizing that Neltharion intended to speak, he cast a spell that would allow him to hear his brother’s dying words over the cacophony of their combined attacks. The gesture was not born out of compassion, but of a desire to savor every last moment of his enemy’s suffering.

“Do… you… think this… will change… anything?” Neltharion wheezed, blood frothing at the corners of his mouth. “Azeroth… is doomed… you… will fall… to madness… next… brother.”

Malygos felt a hint of unease as he recalled the words of the little prophet. However, he pushed aside those thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Vengeance.

With a final surge of power, Malygos channeled every drop of his magical might into ridding the world of Neltharion, pouring his hatred and despair into the spell. It took only a moment before the arcane energy pierced through the fallen Aspect’s body and tore a hole through his heart. The once mighty Earthwarder let out a last, feeble cry before his body finally succumbed to the assault, and the darkness within seemed to explode outwards as if acknowledging its host’s demise.

Neltharion’s massive form slumped, lifeless and broken, into the lava-filled ravine. The Aspects and Keeper ceased their attacks, staring down at the corpse of a being that had once been one of Azeroth’s greatest champions.

“It is done,” said Alexstrasza, her voice heavy with grief and exhaustion. “Neltharion is no more.”

It’s… really over?

Malygos studied the corpse of his brother with every diagnostic spell he knew, ensuring that there was truly no possibility Neltharion would recover. As each spell reached the same conclusion, Malygos could feel an overwhelming sense of… emptiness beginning to fill him. Oh, there was intense satisfaction and relief as well, but it felt as if his mind simply didn’t know how to react after achieving the vengeance he had been seeking for over ten millennia.

“Indeed he is,” Archaedas said as he approached the corpse, easily wading into the lava without harm. “And with the corrupted Aspect dead, the gift of the Makers can be reclaimed.”

The Keeper summoned a device that he claimed would be able to extract and store the essence of the Earthwarder from Neltharion’s corpse. Without it, they would need to perform a complicated ritual during a rare celestial event to transfer Neltharion’s power to a new host. Not to mention the risk of the vermin’s children finding a way to absorb their father’s power and continuing his dark legacy.

The device itself was a plain gold sphere that reminded Malygos too much of the Dragon Soul.

“We will have to be careful when we choose Neltharion’s successor,” Ysera said, watching as the sphere began to fill with a shimmering earth-toned energy. “Azeroth cannot afford another tragedy like this one.”

The Aspects had already discussed the matter at length after their meeting with the little prophet. The Void’s hold over the Black Dragonflight would be significantly weakened with Neltharion’s death, but not entirely eradicated. Archaedas knew of a method to forcibly purge an individual of the Void, but the process would essentially completely recreate them, body and soul.

There was little difference between that and death, as far as Malygos was concerned.

The nerubian had mentioned something about an uncorrupted black dragon living on the Broken Isles, but the Aspects had yet to meet them. Whoever they chose would need to possess a strong enough will to fight off the whispers of the Old Gods. It wouldn’t be optimal if the Aspects were unable to pass down Neltharion’s power given the future threats Azeroth would face, but it would be preferable to history repeating itself.

“The process is complete,” Archaedas announced as he began making his way back to the group. “I suggest we leave, as I can sense Therazane gathering her subordinates in preparation to confront us.”

The Aspects quickly agreed and decided to leave Deepholm. Malygos gathered Neltharion’s corpse and Archaedas in his telekinetic grasp and took to the air behind his siblings. As they soared through the cavernous expanse toward the portal that would return them to Azeroth, Malygos caught a glimmer of worry in Alexstrasza’s eyes.

“Malygos,” she said, her voice empathetic and infuriatingly soft. “How are you feeling? You suffered the most out of any of us after Neltharion’s betrayal.”

Malygos would normally just glare at his sister and give a caustic reply, but he couldn’t seem to muster his normal anger. “I’m not sure how I feel, Alexstrasza. I suggest you ask again in a few years.”

Alexstrasza seemed relieved to have received an actual answer. “I understand how you feel. It almost doesn’t feel real. But we will have time to heal from the wounds Neltharion has left behind. Just remember that we are here for you, brother. Even if it might not feel like it, we are a family.”

Malygos managed a small nod, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed her words. It felt as though a yawning emptiness had opened up inside of him once his vengeance was satiated, and he didn’t know if that void could ever be filled again.

“And regardless of anything else, we cannot forget that today is a good day for Azeroth and its future,” Alexstrasza continued, her tone taking on a hopeful note. “We have rid the world of a great evil, reclaimed the power of the Earthwarder, and proven we fight together as we once did. Together, I’m certain we’ll be able to solve the various crises that Vizier Krivax brought to our attention.”

Malygos was normally disdainful towards Alexstrasza’s unwarranted optimism, but he was surprised when he felt a hint of fond amusement. “I wouldn’t be so certain. You should know by now that fate has never been kind to us, sister. I doubt that’s going to change any time soon.”

“It does you no good to be so cynical. Vizier Krivax has given us ample warnings and I trust in our ability to navigate the future with such a significant advantage.”

“One look at Nozdormu is enough to know that the future won’t be pleasant,” said Malygos, gesturing toward their silent brother. Nozdormu was good at pretending to be inscrutable, but the Aspects had known each other for longer than most mortal races had existed.

He was always either silent or inappropriately flippant when there was trouble in the near future. Alexstrasza turned a questioning expression to Nozdormu, who surprised them all when he actually provided a response.

“I’m afraid Malygos is correct. Vizier Krivax has made many changes to the timeline that will alter some things for the better and some for the worse. We’ve mostly experienced the better up to this point, but the worse is yet to come,” said Nozdormu, somber as he delivered his ominous warning.

“We have weathered dark times before and we will do so again,” Ysera said with a voice that was soft but confident.

Nozdormu nodded solemnly, his gaze distant as he once again turned his attention to something beyond their current moment. “Indeed we shall. But for now, let us return to Azeroth and ensure that Neltharion’s passing is known.”

Malygos was certain there would soon be plenty of celebrations by the many people hurt by Neltharion’s actions, but he couldn’t see himself being one of them. As the Aspects and the Keeper made their way back to Azeroth, Malygos found himself wondering what he would do next. He had lived with his hatred for so long that he hardly knew who he was without it.

But… perhaps he would have the opportunity to understand who he was in due time.