Christie Golden: Thrall: Twilight of the Aspects

And Alexstrasza went for perhaps the most intelligent one of all: the blue. In her rage, she was without a doubt the most beautiful, dangerous thing Thrall had ever seen. The blue head looked taken aback at first, as she attacked ceaselessly, breathing fire and then darting out of the way, shaking off clusters of twilight dragons as though they were little more than a nuisance. Everything she held precious in this world had been taken from her by those responsible for Chromatus’s unnatural life: the mysterious Twilight Father and, of course, Deathwing himself. She was determined that the five-headed monster would not live to continue the slaughter and destruction.

Chromatus was clearly stunned by the smoothness of the coordination.

For a few moments.

Then, as if he had only been toying with them, he suddenly began striking back with twice the speed and determination. He had five heads, and there were three foes. The blue and red heads continued to fight Alexstrasza and Kalecgos; the black and green ones suddenly turned on their long necks and joined the bronze head in the attack upon Ysera.

She was unprepared for the sudden switch in tactics, and one of her forelegs was engulfed in shadowy flame. The green head fixed her with an intense stare, and Thrall guessed it was probably attempting to send the green Dragon Aspect one of her own nightmares. But Thrall knew, from what Ysera herself had said, that she had witnessed such things as this creature could not even imagine. Ysera pulled the injured limb in close and dove out of the stare’s path, shaking her head and closing her eyes, deliberately casting off the green dragon head’s attempt to use her own magic on her.

The bronze head opened its mouth and breathed out sand, scouring her, while black jaws closed on a wing, bit down hard, and ripped. Ysera cried out and pulled free, leaving a chunk of wing in her attacker’s mouth. Quickly she healed herself from both injuries, but in that precious moment the other two heads ceased struggling with Alexstrasza and Kalecgos, and all five converged on the green Aspect, who was now clearly fighting for her life.

Thrall held fast to Torastrasza as she dipped and dove. He continued to use the Doomhammer when he could, but the twilight dragons were now prepared for such attacks. When Torastrasza drew near them with the orc on her back, the twilights made certain they were not in corporeal form, fighting only with their ugly, purple-hued magic. Thrall realized that he needed to use his shamanic skills now, and opened himself to the elements.

He reached out with his mind. I fight to save all of you, all the elementals. All of this wounded land. Come to my aid, that I may protect you!

Erratic they were at first, but Thrall put all of his urgency into his plea. And finally they obeyed. A wind elemental took the shape of a cyclone, picking up enormous boulders and hurtling toward Thrall’s foes. Gusts of air came to his call, microbursts that caught spread wings and sent their owners slamming into one another. Blinding snow swirled up to envelop them, only to turn to boiling water that targeted open eyes.

Together, he and Torastrasza slew several of the twilight dragons. Then suddenly the great red dragon dropped in a tightly controlled dive. Thrall wondered what she was doing, and then realized. She was flying close to land, targeting the cluster of Twilight’s Hammer cultists, opening her mammoth jaws and spewing flame. Their robes caught quickly, and they screamed in torment. It would seem, Thrall thought darkly, that not all of the cultists were so willing to sacrifice themselves when actually faced with death in the form of a huge, angry red dragon.

Torastrasza wheeled and rose, almost lazily, curving around the temple to the other side. Again she flew low, breathing fire on the screaming cultists, then caught the wind as lithely as a sparrow and rose gracefully to rejoin the battle in the air.

Thrall glanced over at the battle with Chromatus, and his heart sank. He could see that all three of the Aspects had been wounded—burned, frozen, crippled, injured in some other way. And Chromatus seemed barely touched. Even as Thrall watched, the dragon threw back two of his heads and laughed.

“Life is sweet, to offer such entertainment!” he bellowed. “Come for me again! Let us play some more!”

Ysera veered erratically away. She flew close to Thrall before heading back—long enough for him to catch fear and despair in her brilliant eyes.

Kirygosa’s words came back to him: He was made … for you. All of you. He was brought to life with a specific purpose: to destroy the Aspects!

They fell almost like raindrops, the reds and blues and greens. Wyrmrest Temple might now just as well have been called Wyrmrest Abattoir.

This couldn’t be happening! Three Aspects and their flights—certainly the number of cultists and twilight dragons was dropping, but Chromatus seemed to be gaining strength the longer the battle continued.

Where were the bronzes? Nozdormu had said he would come. They were desperately needed now. With another Aspect, perhaps that would be enough to emerge victorious. Thrall looked around wildly, hoping against hope that—

There was a dark smudge against the evening sky now. More twilight dragons? And then Thrall realized that their scales were much, much lighter-hued than those of the twilights. Much lighter than any other dragonflight.

“There!” cried Thrall. “The bronzes! They have come!”

The reds, blues, and greens had spotted them as well, and a wave of joy rose in their throats. Now, with the bronze dragonflight added to the fight, they could turn the tide. Four Aspects—surely even Chromatus could not stand against them!

The bronzes scattered, joining their brethren in attacking the twilight dragons, while Nozdormu dove straight to his fellow Aspects. They broke off the attack, wheeling away to meet him partway. It was a beautiful sight: four Aspects, flying together, united in battle.

And then Nozdormu said something Thrall did not expect to hear.

“Retreat!” he called. “Retreat! Follow me!”

Thrall felt his heart sink in his chest like something physical, and he knew the other Aspects felt the same way. All eyes turned to the Life-Binder. For a long moment she hovered. Then Chromatus made the decision for her. He had flown off a slight distance, doubtless confused by their abrupt departure, and had waited for them to resume the attack. When they did not, he came after them, flying straight and true, with deadly intent.

“Retreat!” cried Alexstrasza in a broken voice. “Retreat, retreat!” Ysera and Kalecgos took up the cry, ordering their own flights to follow.

Those who could obey at once did so. Others were still locked in combat and came when they could—or not at all. They flew swiftly and steadily at top speed to the east. Thrall, perched atop Torastrasza’s strong back, clung on as air created by the sheer speed threatened to dislodge him.

He craned his neck and looked over his shoulder. Chromatus was still following, and as Thrall watched, he opened his red mouth and bellowed a sheet of flame. Then he broke off the attack, veering back toward the temple. A few of the twilight dragons pursued, but soon they, too, turned back.

Why? They were winning; why would they break off the attack?

After a few moments of hard flying, making sure that they were not being followed by the nightmarish creature, the Aspects slowed. They alit upon a snowy peak, their flights landing close beside them.

Alexstrasza whirled on Nozdormu. Grief and anger were in every line of her crimson form. “Why? Why did you not join us in the attack, Nozdormu?” she cried. “We could have—”

“No,” the Timeless One said, bluntly and brutally. “We would have all died if we had persisted in our attack.”