Warcraft: Stonetalon Mountains
Year 25, Day 7
“Cheer up, Hydrys. If nothing else, you must admit that the view was worth the trip.”
I slowly turned my head and scowled at Glynda. She was far too chipper for this unwizardly hour of the morning.
Glynda summarily ignored me, helped by the fact that she wasn’t even looking in my direction. Instead, her eyes were turned to the expansive valley that opened up on our right, partially illuminated by the first rays of the slowly rising sun.
I had to admit, it really was a gorgeous view. The sun was just barely peeking out from behind a ridge of distant mountains, painting the sky a stunning shade of orange. Some few parts of the vista were illuminated, but much of the valley was still shrouded in a twilight-like shadow. The contrast, as well as the occasional deposits of orange stone much the same color as the sunrise, made for a truly picturesque moment. It was the sort of view that the very best wizarding painters sought out, capturing every moment of it in their art to produce a painting that changed to reflect the time of day.
Zatanna clearly agreed. We’d been walking side by side for the first few minutes, but she’d slowed down as the sun began to rise, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. I was half worried that she was going to blindly walk off the trail we were following and tumble down the nearly sheer slope at our side, but Kent was walking behind her and I trusted him to keep an eye on his niece.
I sighed heavily, which quickly became a yawn wide enough that it felt like my jaw was going to crack. The view was excellent, but I was still far too sleepy to properly appreciate it. Particularly since we were currently hiking along a narrow mountain trail instead of watching it from the safety and comfort of a nice campsite, perhaps over a hot cup of tea and one of those crepe-like hotcakes that I’d seen someone eating at the tavern last night.
When Ysondre had said we’d be leaving early in the morning, she’d meant it. It had still been dark in Darnassus when she’d roused us from our beds a scarce few hours after we’d been shown to them. At her request, I ended up leaving the majority of my summons behind, bringing only Kent, Glynda, and Zatanna with me. Apparently the ‘old friend’ that Ysondre was bring us to meet didn’t like people very much and Ysondre didn’t want to accidentally spook them away.
The trip had started off as expected, with a short jaunt through the Emerald Dream. We’d only traveled within the Dream for what must have been a few minutes before Ysondre conjured a portal back to Azeroth itself, dumping us on a dark, stoney bluff surrounded by dense pine-like trees.
That had been nearly half an hour ago. It had taken Ysondre a few moments to gather her bearings, and then she’d led us through the forest until we reached this trail, which we’d been following ever since. It wasn’t a particularly difficult trail to follow––wide enough for two people to walk abreast and clear of most obstructions––but it was very much not a paved road either. Even if it had been, hiking had never been an activity that I particularly enjoyed. Not that I had anything against it per se, but it always felt like there were better ways I could be spending my time.
Ysondre, who was leading the way down the path, turned back to glance at us. “I do believe we’re nearly there. It's been some time since I’ve traveled this way, but I recognize our surroundings.”
Oh goody. “Can you tell us now who we’re going to meet?” I asked. I winced a moment later as I heard just how snide my words had come off as. There were plenty of ways I could have asked that question far more politely.
Thankfully, Ysondre seemed to take it in stride. “Hmm, I don’t see why not. A very old friend of mine lives around here. She has dabbled with arcane magic in the past and I fear that I do not know many other such spellcasters, particularly ones that would be interested in joining you in your travels.”
A ‘very old friend’, huh. That probably either meant an elf or another dragon. Or perhaps some other long lived race that I was not aware of?
I looked around. The sun had half-risen over the mountains, illuminating the valley in further detail. There was nothing but rocks and trees as far as the eye could see in every direction. The view was good, but I had a feeling it would get old after a while, and this didn’t really seem like the sort of place I’d expect to find a wizard living.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to give Ysondre the benefit of the doubt. So far, her guidance had led me to a number of extremely valuable Blueprints. Hopefully she was right about this one as well.
The trail turned, passing around a tall spire of stone jutting from the mountainside, and Zatanna gasped in wonder. I stared past Glynda, silently gnawing my lower lip. Okay, maybe Glynda had a point. I wasn’t feeling my best this morning, but damn if that wasn’t a stunning sight.
Zatanna bounced up behind me and tapped my shoulder. “Hydrys, did you bring your phone or your, um…”
“Scroll,” Glynda injected.
“Scroll with you? I want a picture and I bet the real me would love to see this too.”
I blinked, then groaned softly and reached into my bag. It took a bit of digging, but eventually I managed to find the little muggle-looking device that I had been given to keep track of my aura reserves. I’d completely forgotten that it could be used to take pictures. I’d been so caught up searching for magical ways to share my experiences on other planes with Zatanna that I hadn’t even considered such a solution. It wasn’t exactly what I was looking for––I’d rather share whole memories, not static images, but it was something.”
I fiddled with the finger-sized white oval, then gave up and passed it over to Glynda. It took a bit of shuffling about––the path wasn’t particularly wide––but eventually Glynda managed to capture a few images of the view, both with and without Zatanna and I in them.
Ysondre watched the entire exchange with a quizzical look on her face. She seemed confused initially, but her expression cleared up when Glynda showed off the finished pictures and mentioned how they could be saved for later viewing. “A convenient device,” she commented. “I have heard of spells with a similar effect, but none so simple to use as that.”
We moved onward. I’d left my scroll with Glynda so she could take more pictures at her leisure, and my mind was racing as I considered my options. We’d need to head back to Darnassus at least for a brief time so I could retrieve my other companions, so that would give us an opportunity to take pictures of the city and the Temple of the Moon. Then, depending on how late it was, perhaps a portkey to Val'Sharah? The view from the upper branches of Shaladrassil had been wondrous, as was the tree itself.
A few minutes later, the mountainside around us briefly leveled off, the high cliff to our side giving way to a relatively flat stretch of rocky forest. Even though the path continued onward, Ysondre turned into the trees, confidently leading the way through the dense growth. There was no path here, but after a moment I noticed a number of signs that we were not the first to come this way. They were faint and clearly intentionally hidden, but present nonetheless, even to my untrained eyes.
Abruptly, the forest opened into a picturesque clearing. The ground here was covered in soft grass and wildflowers, and a small one-story stone cottage with a shingled roof and a covered porch stood at the center of the clearing. Half hidden behind the building was a well and a small but well-tended plot of herbs and vegetables.
It was a wonderfully quaint looking homestead. It also looked as though it had been abandoned in a hurry. There was a pot suspended over a still-smoldering cooking fire, a number of items messily scattered across the floor, and a half-eaten bowl of stew sitting on the small table beside the porch’s single askew chair.
Ysondre looked around the clearing, clearly seeing the same things as I was, and sighed heavily. “I’d hoped five people wouldn’t be enough to spook her, but I guess she’s even jumpier now than she was before.” She took a deep sniff, tilting her head back as she scented the air. “Probably bolted the moment she noticed someone was nearby. Can’t have been gone for more than ten minutes.” She sighed again, growling, “Damn it, Mavria,” under her breath in draconic.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Why would your friend run away if she noticed someone was nearby?” Zatanna asked from behind me. “Is someone hunting her or something?”
Ysondre pursed her lips. “In a sense…yes. Though it is somewhat more complicated than that. I had been hoping to allow her to tell her own story, but alas. I guess there is not really any harm in you knowing it.”
Ysondre took a step back and sank down onto the grass, leaning backwards to her arms. After a moment Zatanna and I both sat down on the grass as well, while Glynda leaned against the trunk of a tree and Kent leaned on his cane. “Tell me, Hydrys,” she began, “how much do you know of Azeroth’s Dragonflights?”
“Uh, not much,” I admitted. “I think there’s five of them, and Ysera is the leader of your flight, but not really very many details past that.” That wasn’t entirely the truth––parsing through the weight of knowledge that came from my three draconic Blueprints had told me slightly more than that––but I wasn’t sure how reliable the ten-thousand year old information really was, nor was it particularly detailed. Plus, that was not an aspect of my Blueprints that I was interested in sharing.
“Hmm, understandable. In that case, I will start in the beginning. Ysondre tilted her head back, allowing a single ray of sunlight to fall across her covered eyes. “Long, long ago, in a time before men and elves, five great dragons were blessed with powers beyond their lesser kin, and with them, a duty to protect all of Azeroth. To aid them in their tasks, these dragons created their Dragonflights.
“These dragons were Ysera, the Green Aspect tasked with preserving the natural world and tending to the Emerald Dream. Alexstrasza, the Red Aspect tasked with preserving all life. Malygos, the Blue Aspect, tasked with watching over the magic of Azeroth. Nozdormu, the Bronze Aspect, tasked with preserving Azeroth’s timeline. And finally Neltharion,” her lips twisted into an angry, toothy scowl, “the Black Aspect, eldest and greatest of all dragonkind, tasked with warding the earth and protecting the various deep places of the world.”
Ysondre took a deep breath, her expression softening, and continued. “For years beyond counting, our Flights lived and labored in harmony. We aided one another when necessary and worked tirelessly for the good of all of Azeroth. When the Burning Legion first came to Azeroth, we joined with the younger races and fought them together, and we were winning. And then that cowardly wyrm Neltharion stabbed us all in the underbellies.”
Ysondre’s voice was soft and even, but I could almost feel the raw anger and loathing dripping from every word. “He turned our own powers against us. Malygos tried to stop him, and it cost him nearly his entire Flight. Only fortune and overconfidence saved the rest of us. He retreated, but the damage had already been done. The War could have been over then and there, but instead it resulted in unimaginable death and destruction, and for what?”
Her shoulders slumped and she sighed again. “But what is done is done. Neltharion is now called Deathwing, and his flight followed in his footsteps, wrecking untold havoc across Azeroth. He is weakened now, and much of his flight has been lost throughout the fighting, but he is still out there. Biding his time. Building his numbers.
“But I digress. Black dragons have a rather unsavory reputation now. They are the enemies of all of Azeroth, and Deathwing does not suffer traitors within his Flight.”
“Ah, I see.” She didn’t really need to spell the rest of it out. “So your friend––”
“Would appreciate if someone didn’t come leading random strangers into her home,” a soft, melodious voice interjected sharply.”
We all whirled around to find a human-looking woman clambering out of the well, her honey-blonde hair and simple brown dress both dripping with water and clinging to her skin. I reflexively drew my wand, though I avoided pointing it at her, and stared at the woman in alarm. Even though she was standing right in front of me, she barely showed up to any of my many detection spells. The ambient magic in the air seemed to flow right through her as though she wasn’t really there.
Ysondre smiled widely. “Mavria!” she exclaimed joyfully. “So you didn’t run off after all. I was worried I’d need to track you down again.”
The other woman swung her legs over the side of the well and rose to her full height, planting her arms on her hips. It was clearly meant to be an act of intimidation, but between her soaking-wet clothing, gentle features, and the fact that she was at least half-a-head shorter than everyone else in the clearing, Zatanna included, it wasn’t a particularly effective display.
She seemed to realize that quickly, deflating and hanging her head. “I really wish you wouldn’t,” she mumbled. “It's a lot harder to hide when someone knows where you’re hiding. Especially multiple someones.” She shot the four of us a hard-ish look. “And I was just starting to get comfortable here. Damn it, Ysondre, now I have to move again!”
Ysondre raised a hand. “Peace, Mavria. These are mine trusted companions. They will not sell you out to your grandsire, nor to anyone else.” She turned to look at me. “Will you?”
I didn’t really stop to consider the question. There was only one right answer here, and a pause was certainly not it. In any case, whatever I could get for this dragon’s location was unlikely to be nearly as valuable as Ysondre’s trust and aid had proven itself to be. “Of course not. None of us will.”
“See? Hydrys and his companions have done my Flight a great service. They are allies of Azeroth against corruption.”
The woman didn’t look fully convinced, but she did visibly relax slightly. She scowled at Ysondre––though the expression looked more adorable than frightening––and grumbled, “Fine, fine. I’ll stick around. But I swear by the Shaper, if dragon hunters or you-know-who track me down in the next couple decades, I know exactly who I’m pointing them towards next.” She turned around and walked over to where her half-empty plate was lying on the table. She poked a finger into the stew and then looked down at it mournfully. “Damn it, it's gone cold.” She turned back around and waved for us to come closer. “I guess you may as well come in.”
Ysondre raised one eyebrow. “Hmm, I think I’ll wait until you actually deign to make an appearance.”
Mavria turned around fully, actually looking somewhat annoyed this time. “Really? Are you just going to give away all of my secrets?”
“No, but it is rude to greet guests in such a fashion,” Ysondre chided.
“Fine.” She stomped down the two steps leading up to her little porch and walked a few steps away from the building. Then her entire body suddenly collapsed, crumbling until all that remained was a small mound of dirt and clay.
I blinked. Apparently we’d been talking to some sort of illusion, or perhaps a golem, and not the real Mavria. That did somewhat explain how she’d managed to mask her presence so thoroughly––it was far easier to hide a magic item than something with the raw magical potency of a dragon––but it was also a sign that my magical skills were still sorely lacking. If Ysondre had been able to tell at a glance that it wasn’t the real Mavria, I should have been able to do the same.
Ysondre turned back to the four of us, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes beneath her blindfold. “My apologies. I’d forgotten how rude she can be at times. Still, I am glad it seems as though our time has not been wasted.”
“So then she’s a black dragon, but not one of the ones that works for Deathwing?” Zatanna asked.
“Indeed. I believe he thinks her dead, lost in a battle gone wrong many millennia ago. He would be greatly displeased to learn that a mature dragon of egg-laying age has escaped from his grasp. Few such females remain within his Flight. Mavria has good reason to fear discovery. I hope I can trust you to keep silent on this matter?”
“Definitely!” Zatanna exclaimed.
The magic in the air shivered and I looked down to see a shape of powerful magic rapidly rising up through the ground beneath the clearing. A moment later, the earth opened up and a purplish-black dragon with four curved horns curled around the sides of its head burst into the air. It flared its wings outward, jolting to a stop before its head could crest the treetops. The earth beneath it sealed back up, only a sort of matting in the grass showing where the huge hole had once been, and Mavria dropped heavily onto ground.
She was smaller than Ysondre, I noticed. Probably slightly smaller than Nythendra as well, but more heavily muscled and with longer claws and horns. Her scales were more purple than black, even edging towards a dark red in places, and the flaps of her wings were the same shade of violet as her eyes in human form.
Before I could examine her in more detail, the dragon vanished and was replaced by the same woman who we’d been speaking with before, though this one wasn’t soaking wet. She folded her arms under her chest and stared down at Ysondre, only possible because the Green dragon was sitting down.
“Happy now?”
“Indeed.” Ysondre stood up and extended her arms out to the sides. Mavria watched her for a moment, then took a step forward and allowed herself to be pulled into the much taller woman’s embrace.
“It's good to see you again. It's been too long. I was starting to get worried, especially with what happened to Alexstrasza” Mavria mumbled into Ysondre’s chest.
Ysondre’s arms tightened. “Indeed. It has been a difficult century, and I fear it will only get worse before it gets better.”
“Lots of things are getting worse, not much is getting better.”
“Perhaps. But there is hope. I’ve had an interesting few days. Allow me to properly introduce my new friends. They’ve been of great help to me and my flight. Perhaps they’ll be able to help you as well.” She leaned down and, in a voice that was almost too quiet for me to hear, whispered, “And their rates are truly affordable for such talented mortals. Give them a chance.”
I smiled. Even if what I’d seen so far was all she was capable of, I was always happy to add yet another powerful dragon to my arsenal. And this one was apparently a wizard as well! As long as she didn’t need anything too onerous, this was looking like yet another productive visit. Merlin bless Kent and his Order magic. I really needed to do something nice for the old wizard when I got home.