It all begins to make sense, the mage realized as he climbed over the rocky landscape in search of his friends. Nozdormu… the rip in Time, the coming to the era of the night elves and the Burning Legion… the Well of Eternity… and even the forging of the Demon Soul…

The Old Ones were creating the key that would open the gates of their prison… and if that happened, even Sargeras would find himself pleading for the peace of death.

Rip Time apart and they would unmake their prison. Perhaps they even plotted to reverse their own earlier defeat. It was difficult for him to guess exactly the extent of the Old Gods’ plans, for they were as much above him as he was to a worm. Still, at least their initial goal was understandable.

I must warn Alexstrasza! Krasus instinctively thought. The Aspects were the most powerful creatures on all the mortal plane. If anyone had a chance against the Old Gods, it was them. He cursed the madness that had turned Neltharion the Earth Warder into Deathwing the Destroyer. Combined, surely all five of the Aspects represented a force capable of defeating the elder beings. If not for Neltharion —

Krasus slipped, nearly falling from the ridge he had currently been navigating. How labyrinthine were the plots of the Old Gods! They were the ones who had turned the Earth Warder! They were the ones who had twisted Neltharion’s mind — and with more than one intention! The Old Gods had made of him a puppet who would aid their escape, but they had also divided — and thereby weakened — their one potential nemesis. Without Neltharion, the other four Aspects were not nearly as much a threat.

Worse, they also had Nozdormu occupied, no doubt another layer of their planning. Krasus paused, falling back against the mountainside. It was too overwhelming. The dark elders had spent too much time and effort. Set too many pawns in place and covered their machinations too well. How could anyone — let alone, him — undo their malevolent designs?

How?

So caught up was Krasus in such overwhelming realizations that he failed to notice the massive, black shadow until it had long enshrouded the region around him.

Deathwing filled the sky. “YOU!”

The monstrous dragon exhaled.

Had it been any other, the chase would have ended there with a small pile of charred bones quickly engulfed by a steaming torrent of molten earth. But, because it was Krasus, who knew Deathwing far too well, the mage reacted in time… just barely.

As Deathwing’s manic fury spilled down upon him, the robed figure brought up a wall of pure golden light. The black dragon’s blast pounded the seemingly-delicate shield without mercy… and yet the latter held. Krasus strained, fought to keep his balance, and sweated from effort. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to give in, but he did not.

Finally, it was the winged terror above who paused, but only to summon up another horrific discharge. That, however, was all the hesitation that Krasus needed.

The focus of Deathwing’s ire raised his arms — and vanished.

He could not face the dread behemoth one against one. The outcome of such a struggle was all too obvious. Even at his strongest, Krasus was merely a consort to an Aspect, not actually one of the five great dragons. Valor was a worthy thing, but not in the face of such impossible odds.

The mage reappeared near the mountain south of the one from which he had fled. Collapsing against a rock, Krasus gasped for breath. The effort of deflecting his adversary’s assault and transporting himself by spell had taken much out of him. In truth, he had expected to materialize much farther away from the other dragon.

“I’ll find you!” called the black leviathan, his shout echoing. “You’ll not escape me!”

The one thing Krasus knew was in his favor was that Deathwing had grown so wild with anger that he did not focus his powers as he should have. The mage felt his adversary’s magical probe of the surroundings, but it was cursory, sweeping by so fast and wide that the one it hunted was able to shield himself easily.

Forcing himself up, Krasus wended his way down. The nearer to ground level, the better he would be.

What had happened to his companions, the mage could not say. He felt certain, though, that they had escaped Deathwing, or else the black would not have bothered with him. Clearly Deathwing still hunted for his precious disk and now believed Krasus had it.

So much the better. If it cost him his life so that the others could bring the Demon Soul back, so be it. Rhonin would know what to do.

He scrambled down the mountainside, even exhausted as he was moving far more nimbly than any night elf or human. All the while, Krasus listened for Deathwing, noting with expert ears where the raging titan flew.

At one point, Deathwing flew directly overhead, but the robed figure quickly flattened against an outcropping and the winged giant passed him by. Deathwing loosed random shots at the landscape, unaware that his own fury continued to work against him.

Then, the dragon did what Krasus had feared he might. Apparently deciding that the area had been scrutinized well enough, Deathwing banked and started heading back toward his mountain sanctum. Krasus doubted very much that the black had given up searching so soon… which meant that Deathwing now hunted the Demon Soul elsewhere.

Fearing for Malfurion and Brox, Krasus eyed the departing form and concentrated.

From every direction, the rubble caused by some of the black’s previous blasts flew up, bombarding Deathwing. Massive chunks, some as large as the dragon’s head, struck hard. Deathwing gave out a startled roar as he veered madly toward a mountain, only just at the end avoiding a collision.

Krasus turned and ran.

The cry thundering from behind gave ample proof that Deathwing had taken the bait. Krasus did not bother looking behind him, his senses already warning the mage as to the black’s swift coming.

Everything had to be timed right for what Krasus planned. He had to nearly feel the foul Aspect’s breath on his neck…

“I will burn you to ash!” bellowed his monstrous foe. “Burn you to ash!”

Deathwing did not fear harming his precious creation, the Demon Soul designed to withstand such horrific elements. The irony was that it would be a scale from the dragon’s hide that would prove the weakness of the disk… a physical part of Deathwing the only thing that could destroy his monstrous toy.

Krasus had considered finding some manner by which to cause the Demon Soul’s destruction here in the past, but he feared that such an act might be too much for the already-stressed time line to take. Better to let the dragons have it as he planned and hope that history followed its proper course — assuming that was still possible.

Deathwing drew closer… closer… The black clearly wanted to make certain of his blast.

Any moment now, the mage thought, tensing and preparing his own action.

He heard the telltale sound of his pursuer about to unleash another wave of molten earth.

Krasus gritted his teeth —

There was a gushing sound… and the area where the robed figure had been was drowned in steaming lava.

The Earth Warder rose high into the air, his laughter well-matching his madness. He circled the region, now lit up by the blazing, orange rock. Raw magical forces that were an inherent part of the fiery mass he had disgorged made it impossible to locate the disk, but Neltharion could wait.

He savored the horrific demise of the mysterious dragon mage, the pet of Alexstrasza’s who had nearly upset his plans early on. It was a shame that there would be nothing left of the creature, for the black would have liked to carry some reminder with which to present his fellow Aspect before he made her his concubine. Neltharion had sensed the closeness of the two, almost as if this Krasus had been as favored as her consorts, especially the insipid and irritating Korialstrasz.