The queen considered. “Yes, I have something I can quickly do. Stand far back, all of you.”

As Krasus and the others quickly obeyed, Alexstrasza once more stretched her wings. At the same time, the golden radiance returned a hundredfold stronger, yet, now it concentrated most behind the dragon. So bright was it that Alexstrasza’s shadow lay well-defined before the trio, covering the landscape where once Korialstrasz had lain.

The dragon queen uttered words that made no sense to Malfurion save that he felt the power that each syllable contained. Alexstrasza cast a spell of terrible potency… but for what purpose?

The ground before the night elf rumbled. Brox grunted, eyeing the earth as if it were a foe. The hard surface started to rise…

And with a grinding sound, one vast piece broke free. Something about it struck the druid as familiar, but, only when another, similar portion tore loose farther away did Malfurion understand.

They were wings. The rising earth perfectly matched the outline of the Aspect’s shadow. Even as the rock wings flapped once, another, more sinewy section joined them in life — and immediately opened its maw to unleash a cry identical in tone to that earlier uttered by Alexstrasza.

A stone replica of the dragon queen pulled itself free of the ground.

In all ways, it looked like a perfect carving of the great red, save in color. Even the eyes bore the same wisdom, the same care, that he had seen in hers.

The two giants stood side by side, the reproduction watching the original. The glow faded from Alexstrasza and she focused on Krasus.

“She will do for you as I would do for you.”

The mage looked humbled. “I am not worthy of you, my queen.”

Alexstrasza snorted. “If you were not, I would not be here.”

The stone version raised its — her — head in what was recognizable as mirth, then also looked down at Krasus.

“I go now to convince the others,” the red added. “I feel certain that all will be as we hope.”

“Beware! Deathwing will still desire his abomination!”

She gave him a knowing look. “I am familiar with him of old. We will keep him from interfering.”

With that, Alexstrasza leapt into the air. She circled over the party once, her gaze upon Krasus in particular. Then, with a last sweep, the Aspect soared up into the clouds.

“If only I could tell her…” the cowled figure whispered.

“Tell her what?”

Krasus frowned as he eyed the druid. “Nothing… nothing that I dare change.” His expression shifted back to determination. “We have the means by which to return swiftly to our comrades! Let us not waste it…”

But Malfurion was not finished. “Krasus… who are ‘The Old Gods’ of whom you spoke?”

“A terrible evil. I will say no more, but know this. To defeat the Legion is to defeat them…”

Malfurion doubted it was all that simple, yet the night elf chose not to pursue his questioning any further… at least for the time being.

The stone dragon bent low as the three approached. Malfurion marveled at the fluidity of the creature, the grace with which such a thing could mimic true life. It showed the power of the Aspect, that she could create such a wondrous imitation of herself.

With Krasus in the lead, the trio climbed atop near the shoulders. Once aboard, the size difference between Alexstrasza and Korialstrasz became even more apparent.

“You will find that the scales will shift as readily as on a true dragon,” Krasus explained. “Slip your feet in behind them to secure yourself better, then hold on as you generally do. She will be faster than Korialstrasz.”

Their mount waited until all three had settled in, then, with a roar worthy of the dragon queen, she flapped her heavy wings and took off. Krasus had not been exaggerating. Even before the golem leveled out, she had already flown some distance.

The miles quickly raced by as they flew. The night elf gazed over the stone leviathan’s shoulder, still not used to flying, especially so high.

“Couldn’t we have followed Illidan and the others and taken the disk back?” he asked the mage.

“Even if we had caught up with them, it is most likely that we would have suffered a similar, if not more lethal, fate than previous. If they are not well into the Legion-held lands already, I would be surprised. As frustrating as it is for me to say this, our chances greatly improve once they deliver the Demon Soul to the palace.”

Malfurion grew silent. Everything that Krasus said made sense, but the very notion of just letting the demons have the disk — if only to distract them for a time — repelled the druid immensely.

Yet, it did not repel him as much as the fact that it was his own brother who had personally made such a dire event possible.

You have pleased me very much… the voice from within the portal grated. So very much…

Illidan and Captain Varo’then knelt before the fiery hole, Malfurion’s brother revealing none of his thoughts as he listened to the demon lord’s praise. He and Azshara’s underling had left the rest of their party behind once they had entered the ravaged regions conquered by the Legion. Illidan had not wanted to dare a spell transporting them until that point, for he highly respected the black dragon’s own skills. The Earth Warder might have seized upon their spell and brought them to him, not a fate at all enticing.

The duo had materialized in this very chamber before the startled gaze of Mannoroth, the high-ranking demon’s disconcerted expression a bonus for not only the sorcerer but apparently Varo’then, too. However, before Mannoroth’s surprise could fully transform to outrage, Sargeras had reached out from the beyond to demand if his servants had accomplished their mission.

Informed that they had, Sargeras now lavished praise on them. Such only further frustrated the demon lord’s lieutenant, but his devotion — and fear — of Sargeras obviously outweighed any animosities. However, clearly trying to gain some bit of glory for himself, Mannoroth immediately rumbled, “Very well done, indeed, mortals!” He stretched out one meaty paw toward Varo’then. “I’ll take that now so that I can prepare the spell for the portal.”

Although he showed nothing on the outside, Illidan’s heart jumped. Now, of all times, the sorcerer had no desire to give over the disk to a demon. Still kneeling, he gazed up at both the waiting giant and the portal. “With all due respect, Lord Mannoroth, the intricate magicks of the dragon’s creation are better wielded by myself, who now understands them best thanks to our master’s gift.”

To emphasize his point, Illidan raised up the scarf. Even Mannoroth grimaced at the sight.

“He makes a valid point,” the captain interjected. “But as the current bearer of the disk, I respectfully suggest it is the great one who shall decide who wields it in order to strengthen the portal.”

Both the sorcerer and the demon glanced with annoyance at the soldier, who stared straight into the abyss and paid neither any more attention.

“Of course, it’s Sargeras who decides,” Malfurion’s twin quickly agreed.

“None other,” echoed Mannoroth.

There can be but one wielder, the demon lord’s voice declared. And that one shall be… me…

His pronouncement caught all of them offguard, but, especially Illidan. This was not — this could not be — the outcome. Everything hinged on his manipulating the disk.

Almost the instant he thought that, Illidan immediately checked the mental shields that he had built around his innermost thoughts. Secure in the knowledge that Sargeras could not have possibly detected anything, he focused on this new problem. There had to be some way…

“With all due respect, great one,” the sorcerer dared interrupt. “The portal is a night elven creation and so in the manipulation of it with the disk — ”