The green dropped from the sky.

His huge form hit the Well’s dark waters hard. Yet, even for so gigantic a creature, the dragon’s collision was as a pebble to the swirling maelstrom. Barely a ripple marked the green as he sank into the foreboding lake.

A foreboding rumble filled their ears.

“Hold on tight!” commanded Alexstrasza, turning.

A new, frenzied attack swarmed the dragons. Black lightning shot down everywhere and, this time, no dragon survived unscathed. Even Alexstrasza shook as one bolt caught her on the right hip.

“It does not burn!” she exclaimed. “It is so very cold! It chills to the bone!”

“I will see what I can do for it!”

“No!” She glanced back at him. “We must preserve our strength for attack — !”

The Aspect of Life abruptly banked, barely avoiding a pair of bolts that would have struck not only her dead-on, but Krasus as well. All over the heavens, dragons twisted about in a macabre ballet. Krasus looked about and saw that all his companions still held tight. He had feared that the necessity of avoiding the magical lightning might make it impossible for the dragons to keep their riders aloft, but even under such circumstances, the ancient leviathans kept watch over their charges.

But this could not go on forever. Eyes narrowed, Krasus peered toward the center of the Well. Yes… he could detect the Demon Soul. He could also sense that the portal was nearly complete.

“To the center!” the cowled spellcaster shouted. “We have little time!”

Alexstrasza immediately veered that direction. Krasus leaned forward. As vast as the Well of Eternity was, it still proved only a few beats of Alexstrasza’s vast wings to bring them within sight of their objective.

Sure enough, there, high above the gaping maw of the maelstrom, the Demon Soul floated almost serenely. Surrounded by an unholy black aura, it was unaffected by the fearsome magical storm.

“It will be protected!” Krasus reminded her.

“Ysera and I will work in conjunction with Nozdormu’s prime consort!”

He nodded. “Rhonin and I will watch for reaction from Sargeras or the Old Gods!”

The riderless dragons withdrew to watch for attack from Zin-Azshari. The three female dragons encircled the sinister disk, their previous encounter with it making all extremely wary. Alexstrasza looked once at her counterparts, then nodded.

From each burst forth a golden light.

Their spells touched the Demon Soul simultaneously, enveloping it. The foul aura about it was smothered by their power. The disk began to tremble…

Without warning, their spells were suddenly repelled. The backlash was so terrible that all three dragons were tossed backward for some distance. It was all that their riders could do to maintain hold.

Barely clinging to his queen, Krasus shouted, “What is it? What happened?”

Alexstrasza managed to right herself. Her eyes stared wide at the Demon Soul, now some distance off. “The Old Gods! I felt them! But from within the disk! The Demon Soul not only bears a part of our existence, but theirs as well!”

The news did not entirely surprise Krasus. Yet, clearly their addition to the disk’s creation did not hinder the Elder Gods as it did the dragons. They obviously hoped to wield it, something that the other dragons could not do. Deathwing had evidently crafted it differently where they were concerned… if he had even realized their intrusion.

“Can you penetrate their spellwork?”

“I do not know… I honestly do not know!”

Krasus swore. Once again, he had underestimated the Three.

He saw Rhonin trying to signal him. The wizard pointed in the direction of Zin-Azshari. Krasus turned his gaze toward the fabled city —

 — And watched as more than a score of shadowy abominations, each as large as a dragon, soared toward them.

 Azshara had been primping herself. Oh, it was not that she was not already perfection incarnate — even she knew that much — but that for once the queen had found someone worthy of more effort.

My Lord Sargeras is arriving! At last, one fit to be called my husband!

Not for a moment did Azshara question the sanity of her convictions. She who had mesmerized her subjects was herself mesmerized by the lord of the Legion.

At that moment, a tremor shook the palace. It was not the first to do so. Pulling herself from the splendid view in the mirror, the queen spun around. “Vashj! Vashj! What is responsible for that awful racket?”

Her chief handmaiden came rushing in. “A feeble attempt by rabble to stop the inevitable, so reports Captain Varo’then, oh Light of Lights!”

“And what is the dear captain doing about this insult to my ears?”

“Lord Mannoroth has given to him and his hand-picked soldiers appropriate mounts. The captain is already on his way to deal with the miscreants.”

“So, all is proceeding as it should? There will be no delay of our lord’s arrival?”

Lady Vashj bowed elegantly. “None that Lord Mannoroth foresees. The rabble batter uselessly at the spell.”

“Splendid…” Queen Azshara went back to admiring herself in the mirror. There was really nothing else she could do to further enhance her beauty. The silken gown trailed behind her over the marble floor, its gossamer design leaving very little unrevealed. Her luxurious hair was piled high and glittering star diamonds — illuminated by their own inner light — decorated it in strategic locations.

Another tremor struck, this one much nearer. Azshara heard cries from the direction of her handmaidens’ quarters and saw cracks spread across the wall there.

“See if anyone is injured, Vashj,” she commanded. As the latter moved to obey, the ruler of the night elves added, “And if so, please relieve her of her duties and send her back to her family. I will accept nothing but utter perfection from those who would surround me.”

“Aye, Light of Lights!”

A distasteful frown greeted Azshara as she looked again to the full-length mirror in the opposing wall. The queen immediately imagined greeting her Lord Sargeras. That brought back the smile.

“There… now we just have to wait a little longer…” She continued to survey herself, dreaming of the world that she and her new mate would create. A world as perfect as her.

A world worthy of her.

Malfurion shook his head, trying to clear it of the vertigo he had suffered during Ysera’s tumble. It amazed him that he even had a head left to shake, considering that more than once the druid had been hanging by his hands over the gaping hole at the center of the darksome Well.

“What happened?” he asked, not realizing that he repeated Krasus’s own query.

Ysera told him much the same as Alexstrasza had the mage. The night elf listened with sinking heart. To come so close, only to have their hopes dashed so quickly…

Then, he, like Rhonin and Krasus, saw the horrific forms rising up from the city. Malfurion saw that soldiers rode astride the abominations, which resembled bats formed from shadow. He knew without a doubt that Captain Varo’then would be leading the sinister band.

Sure enough, a moment later, the druid made out the familiar figure of the scarred officer. Sword out, Varo’then shouted something to those behind him. Immediately, the soldiers broke up into three groups, one for each flight. Only then did Malfurion see that he had terribly underestimated their numbers. There had to be at least three beasts for every dragon.

Alexstrasza wasted no time. The red dragon unleashed a stream of fire — which went through the foremost monster and continued on, finally fading. Even the soldier riding the beast looked unfazed.

“That’s impossible!” Malfurion gasped.

“Impossible… yes…” Ysera’s eyes moved back and forth rapidly beneath her shut lids. “There is… a fault in our perspective of these fiends…”