Forged By Ice
Another one from months ago. Somehow slipped through the cracks when I did my last story dump from FA. Yes, I know the lore is a little lagging since the last expansion, but I wrote this one before that came out, honest :)
With a twist of the wrist, the spell was recalled; gouts of liquid fire writhed inward, collapsing into the mage's balled fists before extinguishing themselves in a faint hiss of steam. The tension in his muscles held for a moment, hints of flame still licking at his fingertips as crystal blue eyes scanned the bloodied landscape for more approaching enemies. None came, however, and when the mage was greeted by nothing more than the unforgiving whisper of the winter air, he finally let the magic slip back into the recesses of his mind, his posture relaxing as he drew in a much needed breath, and turned his gaze on his companion. "Well?"
The female mage standing behind him had not yet relaxed her stance. Nearly invisible energies quivered over her like a faint aura, quietly powerful theurgies waiting to be unleashed upon the first unfortunate soul to incur her wrath. Her violet eyes fixed on his, holding him under their harsh, piercing gaze as her brow tightened and her voice came across nearly in a hiss. "What?"
"What about all this?" The man gestured around him with a sweeping motion, gesturing at the fallen corpses, many of them still steaming in the snow. "What have you brought me here for?"
Kyenna let her eyes follow his gesture, assessing the grim landscape with a slight smirk of satisfaction teasing at the corner of her tightly pursed mouth. The lonely quiet of the winter wind dancing against the snow, ruffling the torn cloth of her vanquished enemies was a quiet contrast to the screams and cries of the Coldarra dragonkin as they fell beneath the scythe of her ignited fury, backed up by Dennys' flame. A grating sound, to be certain, but a satisfying echo of her moment of victory, now at hand. Again her eyes lit upon her companion with a raptor sharp gaze, the faint grin on her face slipping. "You've done what I brought you here for. You may go now."
Dennys was apparently not satisfied with that answer. He dug his heels in to the snow, folding his arms over his chest and frowning. "Don't patronize me, Ky. You are going to tell me what is going on here."
Again she let her eyes scan the snowy expanse in front of her. To their backs, the hills rose upward, vaulting into the sky and gently encircled them in a wide depression, forming the natural defenses that made Coldarra so inaccessible to the outside. The breeze rattled the limbs of the ancient pines, perhaps the only life indigenous to the frozen island that dared to defy the unending winter, silent sentinels to the carnage that lay around her feet. At least a dozen dragonkin, the magehunters of the Blue Dragonflight, lay scattered and twisted, some charred beyond recognition, others shredded into mangled lumps. Some of them - the larger, more robust males - had fallen mere steps away from where the pair of magi had stood their ground, but not a single one had managed to breach the furious outpouring of fire mingled with ice. It had been all too easy, but they had not been the real target.
Her eyes drifted toward the center of the island and gazed upon it. The Nexus rose, a glimmering shaft of light, various shades of violet and azure that twisted and churned heavenward. Such a massive outpouring of raw arcane energies could be felt more than it could be seen, however, her skin nearly tingling in response to the radiant energy that the column of light threw off, even at this distance. She could feel it racing through the earth beneath her feet, pulsating invisibly in the air around them as it was gathered together and thrust into the sky, seeming to tear the heavens asunder until it was finally lost in the nether.
For a long moment she studied the pillar of light, and the various earthen rings that straddled it, turning and twisting slowly in their own strange dance; a gyre of energy and light and earth. Random though it looked, she was trained enough to see the patterns in the various rings and bits of orphaned rock, realized that they were not only supported by the shaft of energy but in turn focused and directed it. The prospect of understanding such arcane patterns and powers was enough to make her salivate.
Somewhat dramatically, she canted the head of her staff forward, pointing it at the rings of stone that levitated far in the distance. "That is why we are here." With a flourish, she swept the staff around and let it strike against the snow near her feet, pointing it at the fissure in the ground from which more of that arcane energy emanated : the ley lines that the drakes of Coldarra had the nerve to expose. "This is why we are here."
Another cold, stiff breeze raked the landscape, rattling the old pines and briefly assaulting her senses with the acrid odor charred flesh, and then it was gone. Dennys waited until the breeze let up before he spoke again. "The Nexus? I don't understand."
"Of course you don't." Her voice held a bit more vitriol than she meant for, but she was already beginning to lose her patience. She did not know how long it would be until the blues had realized their patrols were not coming back and sent reinforcements. Perhaps she would be able to handle them as well as the first, perhaps not, but it was not a delay she wanted to deal with. She turned to look at her companion, who shot her an exasperated look at her response, and she shrugged her shoulders. "Look. I'm tired of running around, doing the bid of the Kirin Tor while they sit around and strategize. We don't have time to wait for strategies and plans. We need to take action, and we need to strike."
Dennys frowned again at her and shook his head. "Well that's fine, but what are we going to accomplish, skirmishing with their patrols? There's no way the two of us can storm the Nexus."
Kyanna snorted at the suggestion and turned away again. "Don't be ridiculous, Dennys. Storm the Nexus? Do you take me for a fool?" She let him chew on that mentally before she went on. "All right, I'll cut to the chase. Look around you, Dennys. Coldarra has been transformed into a focus of power, but it's more power than there should be in one place. There's so much raw power flowing through these ley lines that the earth itself can't contain it any longer - it's all here, exposed. You can see it, you can taste it."
"So what? The ley lines are already being studied in depth, already studying the possibility of harnessing some of that energy for ourselves ..."
"There's no point to that." The mage snorted impatiently as she looked downward at the cleft in the ground beneath their feet. The fissure had cut a small ravine into the earth, the raw energy within not allowing the buildup of snow so the coursing energy was laid bare for even the most mundane of creatures to behold. It was almost dizzying, the waves of energy that bled from those fractures. "We can tap into it as much as we like, but it's only a fraction of the amount of energy that the Nexus is drawing into itself, the energy that Malygos is using for his own purposes. No, there's no point in trying to harnass it."
Dennys glared at her incredulously, arms folded over his chest, little clouds forming in front of his nostrils. "What, then? What's your grand plan."
She smirked at his lack of understanding and shook her head. "I don't intend to harnass the energy, Dennys, but it is still exposed. That's Malygos' weakness, where he has exposed himself to attack. We don't tap into the energy; we corrupt it."
"What?" His reaction was immediate, his eyes snapping back up to hers and his glance not so much incredulous as one of pure disbelief.
"You heard me. It's so simple that it's ingenious. Tap into the energy source here, disrupt it. A little hint of dissonance, and the entire line is corrputed."
The male shook his head. "Then what? Do you really think you can simply deprive the Nexus of energy like that, shut it down?"
Again she let her eyes scan the landscape. Her companion was shortsighted at best. He should have been able to see the larger picture, should have been able to see the unique opportunity that had been presented to them. The Spellweaver was supposed to have been the single wisest being in terms of magic and understanding it, yet even he had somehow overlooked this little weakness; perhaps it was not so surprising that a man like Dennys could miss seeing it. "No, Dennys. I don't intend to shut the Nexus down. I don't intend to merely deprive the flight of its energy." Her eyes lit upon the towering Nexus, her fists tightening again. "No. I intend to completely corrupt the flow of energy, set it into an irreversible resonance that will shake the Nexus to its core. I do not intend to shut it down, Dennys; I intend to bring it down around Malygos' head."
Another gust of wind cut the landscape, forcing her hair up and in front of her face. She brushed it away and looked to Dennys, who gaped at her openly. "Ky ... that's ... that's ridiculous. You're getting in over your head."
"Over my head?" Her features twisted into irritation at his lack of faith.
"Kyanna, listen to me. I understand what you are getting at, but ... but what you're talking about is insane. There is way too much power flowing through these ley lines for you to try and control that way, and you know it." He paused and shook his head. "Even if you could begin to try, the risks are too great. Think about it, Ky. These ley lines are connected to much more than the Nexus ... what if the effect doesn't stop there? I hate to think it's even possible, but ... meddling like that ... you could tear apart Azeroth itself."
She could not help but to snort derisively. In one moment he had questioned her ability, and in the next breath he had made her capable of creating another Draenor. "You are over-thinking it, Dennys. The beauty of this plan is that it's so simple, and so effective."
Still Dennys shook his head, this time waving his hands dismissively. "This is insane, Ky. Look, don't you think that if something like this was possible, that someone would thought of it? The Kirin Tor have been studying Coldarra for a long longer than either of us, they've been studying magic for a lot longer ... surely if ..."
"Why do you always have to underestimate me?" Kyanna fumed at what he had said, gripping her staff hard enough that cold sparks snapped out from between her fingers. "Look. The Kirin Tor have become ... misguided. Just look at what they have done. They've uprooted Dalaran itself and parked it on Arthas' doorstep, with Malygos at their back. Where is the wisdom in that? And worse still, they've desecrated the place by allowing the _Horde _to soil its hallowed halls. Rhonin broods in the citadel while that fool Sunreaver has practically thrown the doors of the city open to our sworn enemies. What kind of wisdom is that?"
"Kyanna ..."
She silenced him by shaking her head. "No. I don't care how old they are, how long they have been ruling or how long they have been studying magic. They are fools. They put our legacy at danger and ignore the opportunities presented to us. No. I will not abide it ... I will not." She was practically seething as she spoke, her voice rising more than she realized. "We will cure that today. We will bring the Nexus down and destroy Malygos in one fell swoop. The Council of Six will have no choice but to acknowledge their own foolishness and my own accomplishments. I will have that fool Sunreaver ejected from the council, and the halls of Dalaran cleansed of the taint of the Horde. Then, and only then, will we be able to focus our efforts on the downfall of Arthas and his scourge. Then I, Kyanna Greenbaugh, will finally be recognized for the genius I am!"
There was a long pause after she had built up to her climactic pronouncement, her voice almost echoing in the snowy confines of Coldarra, but then there was simple silence. Even the breeze had largely grown quiet, tiny flurries of snow dancing around her feet as she turned down and looked to her companion. His expression had ceased to be incredulous, and instead looked genuinely frightened. Finally, he found the courage to speak up. "Kyanna. Look. I don't doubt that you have the ability." He paused and breathed in deeply. "I've known you as long as you have, Ky. I've seen you grow into probably the most powerful and talented mage that I know. I have no doubt that one day you _will_be on the Council of Six, and that you will be the one making decisions that will alter the course of history. If anyone can do it, _you_can. That I don't doubt.
"But, please," he said, breathing in deeply again. "Please don't do this. Please. Let's go back and discuss this with someone. Maybe you're right, maybe it will work. But please. Don't just jump in to this."
Her mood darkened significantly. She knew that she should have just sent him away, but somehow had hoped that he, of all people, might have been willing to stand at her side and back her up on this. She should have known better, though. Her grip on her staff firmed up as she shook her head. "No, Dennys. I'm going through with this, and I'm doing it now."
She saw his own fists ball up, his gloves crinkling around his fingers. "I can't let you do this."
"You can't stop me," she said, raising her staff in an aggressive gesture. It was almost unthinkable, that she would be raising her weapon against him like this, but at the mere possibility that he would intervene, stand between herself and this moment ... she was not sure what was more unthinkable.
"Perhaps not," he said, raising a hand skyward. "But Transitus is not far. Please, Ky, don't make me call for help ... please, put down the staff and come back with me ..."
She knew what he was about to do. A flare sent skyward would immediately catch the attention of the mages who were stationed nearby, and they probably would come immediately to his aid. But it would also catch the attention of any dragon patrols in the area, and they would be descending upon them as well. Her eyes fixed on his fingers in the air, and thought she could see little sparks of fire. He was about to steal her moment. She couldn't allow it.
Without a moment's hesitation, she thrust her staff outward and cried out a command. The familiar rush of power coursed out from her core and ran through her bones, focusing in on the staff and then, all at once, burst forward in a flurry of frost and fury that twisted in an angry gyre in front of her, obscuring her vision for a moment. It did not last but a few seconds before it was done, the gout of frost dispersing, and she was left to see the fruits of her labor.
Dennys stood there, hand upraised, a look of surprise and terror on his face. Even through the several inches of pure ice that intervened his features were sharp and lifelike; she could almost see the shimmering of energy dancing along his fingertips. But the mage did not move, did not blink. He was encased in several inches of not mere ordinary ice, but ice infused with raw power and energy. Immediately she realized what she had done, however. In ordinary circumstances, the power of the spell would have evaporated into the air in a matter of minutes, or perhaps even seconds, and he would be released from his temporary prison. But here, in the unending chill of Coldarra, she realized that the spell would never evaporate. Dennys would be forever frozen in his prison.
She knew he could see her. Locked within an icy prison he would live for hours, perhaps even days, until the spark of life faded within him. Though he could not move, could not breathe, he could see and think. Instinctively she bolted forward and slammed her fists against the crystalline ice that held him fast, screaming into his face. "Don't look at me like that, you made me do it, _made _me do it. You were going to stop me." She pounded her fists onto the ice again and continued to scream. "It's _your _fault!"
It had to be his fault. She could not accept the fact that she had just sentenced her own brother to death, simply could not accept it. It had been his own doing, his own fault, for trying to intervene. She couldn't accept responsibility for it, and she couldn't allow herself to dwell on it. With a heave of her body, she twisted away and turned her back to Dennys' frozen form and faced the raw wound in the earth where the energy of the ley line seeped up and threatened to sear her face.
She had to do this now.
Kyanna drew a deep breath to banish the beginnings of remorse from her mind, the cold wintry air invigorating her senses and allowing her to sharpen her mind. Her staff was held horizontally over the wound in the earth, and immediately she could feel the arcane energy radiating upward, her staff reacting by absorbing some of that energy and beginning to resonate in her hands.
The immediate rush of energy nearly stole her breath away. She had seen it from afar, she had felt its effects before, but only now that she dared to expose herself directly to the open ley line could she get a full idea of its force. In her mind she imagined it like a raging river of energy that rushed headlong toward the center of Coldarra, drawn inexorably and swiftly toward the Nexus. In a heartbeat, more energy flowed past her staff than she had tasted in her entire life, enough energy to lift a city like Dalaran from the earth and propel it across the world flicked by in the space of a single breath. The scale of it was beyond comprehension; she immediately understood Dennys' trepidation. Surely, this was enough power to tear an entire world asunder.
She would not allow herself to succumb to that trepidation, however. She understood the danger in trying to harness this kind of energy, but she also knew better than to try. She did not need to interrupt the flow or even control it. All she had to do was access it, leave behind a little suggestion of her own power, and let the nature of magic itself do the rest. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and held her staff tight with both of her hands, knowing that she would need that much control. What she was about to do was far from simple or harmless.
She drew in a deep breath, and opened herself to the flow of magic that pulsed beneath her feet. Slowly, carefully, she expanded her perception into the stream, very slowly to avoid being caught up in it and swept away. In her mind's eye she saw it as a raging torrent of water crashing through the ravine, the sort of wild force of nature that would sweep an unwary person away and dash them against the rocks below. No, this was not something she could immerse herself in, or even thrust her perception into without risking her own life.
The edge of her perception gently probed at the surface of that flow, judging its speed, its depth, the amount of power that was coursing past her with each second simply astonishing. For a second she felt like she would be overwhelmed in spite of herself, and nearly stepped back from the edge of the scar in the earth, before she was able to summon her courage.
Kyenna knew she was the only one who could do it.
Moving slowly, almost imperceptibly, she let forth a small hint of her own power, reaching out from the outstretched staff and coming to the edge of her perception, just where she had begun to feel the raging flow of energy coursing below her feet. The little bubble of energy that she put forward was refined, narrowed, made into a tiny thread of power that skittered against the current of arcane fury before she drew another deep breath and pushed it forward, just a bit farther, just enough to interface with the ley line itself.
The reaction was immediate and immense. The tendril of energy that she had cautiously put forth from her staff transformed into a sort of magical lightning rod, the tiniest part of the flow diverting itself away from the ley line to arc up into the heel of her outstretched staff, pulsing along its length and between her hands before issuing forth in a gout of raw power that briefly licked at the sundered ground near her feet, etching new, raw wounds into the rock, before finding its way back to the line itself, rejoining it. She had done it; a miniscule thread of the power being diverted up and through her rod before rejoining the ley line, a loop of energy coursing through her staff.
Miniscule as it was in comparison to the flow below her feet, it was unlike anything she had experienced before. It took all her control and all her strength to keep from crying out in both terror and exultant joy. It all but singed her skin where she gripped at the staff, tiny rivulets of the energy sparking up her fingers and into her bones, an immense fount of power whose sensation rivaled that of the brightest and most pure orgasm she had experienced or could even imagine.
For a moment, she felt capable of anything. The limit of her powers up to this point were an insignificant wisp of force compared to that which she now wielded. For a moment, she had to remind herself that this was not her power to control, that any attempt to do so would probably have unintended and disastrous consequences. It was highly likely that the mages at the nearby outpost would be able to feel the pulse and writhe of such power even at their distance, and thus it became absolutely imperative that she delay no further.
Her features tightened as she put every last ounce of her willpower into controlling that wild gout of energy passing through the rod, channeling it more evenly, taming the flow that threatened to leap forth from her staff and excoriate the earth before her. The strain was immense, her skin beginning to sweat from the effort before she began to exert some measure of control, enough that she could focus on the real goal. Carefully, slowly, she called forth another thread of energy from deep within herself, directing it into her staff. She could sense the little thread of energy dancing about the powerful stream of raw ley energy, coiling around it, vibrating in a quiet song that was unique to herself. Then she let that thread of power mingle with the greater energy, run through it, dance with it. She did not need to expend a lot of power, just enough to leave a mark. Just enough to get the diverted ley energy to sing to her own tune.
Instead, and inexplicably, the thread of energy that she had put forth suddenly began to twist and writhe in an unfamiliar way. In ran back through her fingers and into her core, making her own energy seem to change its unique pulse, begin to dance in another pattern. She could not force the ley energy to resonate with her own magic, not because of its scale, but because it was already resonating. With a feeling like terror she realized her mistake; the blue dragonflight had already warped the raw energy of the ley line to resonate with their own song, already forced it to dance in synch with their own souls. Instead of her power coercing the arcane torrent, the hidden resonance of the flight within was forcing _her _magic to change.
She tried to recall the thread of magic back within her but it was too late. The strange resonance danced through her arms and into the core of her soul, her magic already beginning to vibrate out of control, already beginning to warp and corrupt in a way that made it hesitate to obey her commands. Her eyes snapped open and she cried out quietly, trying instead with her physical muscles to yank the staff out of the loop of power, but it felt as if it were held fast, cemented into the rivulet of energy that she had forced out of the ley line. Her muscles bulged and tensed as she tried to force it out, but again she cried in terror as it refused to budge.
Not knowing what else to do, she let go of the staff.
The effect was instantaneous. The staff flashed in a chiaroscuro of blues and violets and shades of purple, dazzling points of light that exploded outward and threatened to blind her before the rivulet of energy was cut off. There was no sound but she felt an immense _thud _of energy against her chest, and the silent explosion of arcane power was enough to lift her off her feet and throw her through the air. She tried to cry out by the force of the impact against her chest had driven the air from her lungs, and all she could do was watch helplessly as the world began to spin around her at sickening angles, her vision filled alternately with snow then sky then trees and rocks, and back again.
Then the ground met her, embracing her with ice-cold snow as she was driven back into a snowdrift. Mercifully she had landed on her back, the force of the impact pushing her deep enough into the snow that it blocked out all but the dazzling blue sky above, the azure shaft of energy rising from the Nexus cutting across the section of sky that she could see. Spots of red and black and gray began to dance in the corners of her vision, coalescing into a tunnel that began to restrict, her ears ringing desperately as she felt herself beginning to tumble backward into unconsciousness, but at the last second her lungs remembered to draw breath, and with a deep gasp she inhaled, deeply, fully, blissfully.
It was several seconds before she summoned the strength to sit up, clutching at the heaps of snow around her and clawing her way upward until she was upright. Dizzily she looked about herself, vaguely able to make out the edge of the ravine where she had stood, now several yards away. By some strange miracle or coincidence, her staff had survived the explosion as well, and hand landed nearby, just out of reach. She stretched her arm out to clutch at the weapon when she realized something still felt very wrong.
The alien, unfamiliar magic still resonated in her bones.
Unsteadily she reached for the staff, but it was just beyond the extent of her fingertips. Her body still ached uncertainly from the explosion, and she was barely able to take to her feet. Her clothing had suffered, as well, strangely charred in random spots while her skin beneath was undamaged. The cold was brutal, even to a mage accustomed to dealing with freezing temperatures, and her rent clothing did little to help ward her from the temperature. She shivered as she finally stood, clutching her arms around herself, and then wobbling to where her staff had fallen.
Again the strange magic resonated within her, sounding dissonant tones against the natural harmony of her own power, and suddenly she felt gripped with a violent sensation of power trying to rip itself out from within her. The sensation was jarring and painful, taking her body in a brief spasm before an unbidden burst of energy sprouted from her every pore, assaulting the air around her with an explosion of visceral cold. She cried it surprise and fear as the power simply radiated from her skin and rang in the chill air of Coldarra, coalescing into a cloud of tiny crystals of ice, fluttering away from her on the breeze and settling into a distorted circle on the snow around her, its color more blue than the snow that had already fallen.
Kyenna shuddered deeply at the sight of it, and only in small part due to the chill that she had felt. Never before could she recall any kind of spell, any kind of energy firing off without need for her intervention. She could still feel the hum of the unfamiliar force dancing in her nerves, making her feel chilled and tingly all over. Again it seemed to cause her own energies to resonate along with it, the sensation terrifying and dizzying all at once. She had to shake her head to try and banish the nausea she was beginning to feel, focusing her attention instead on shuffling over to where her staff had fallen.
Then, however, the sensation returned with a vengeance. The writhing dance of the alien force within her, impinging on the core of her power deep within, seemed to explode outward and carry her own force along with it. She could feel her nerves vibrating, beginning to sing the same song that the energy coursing through her veins was singing, an unwelcome harmony that rose up in her chest like a cold anti-fire seeking to burst forth.
A fraction of a second later, it did just that. Instead of a chill energy that radiated out from her every pore, however, it seized upon her like the frozen maw of some beast formed from snow and ice and ire. The moisture on her skin suddenly froze, turning into a pattern of little lines and fractures of rime that coursed over her skin in wild frosty spikes that stood up on their own. She cried softly and tried to brush the rime from her arms but they refused to budge; the chill was far deeper. Crystals of ice formed along the surface of her skin like a hard crust, the cold penetrating deeper, into her muscles, into her bones. She was a mage highly skilled in the art of frost and cold magic, she had experienced all manner of deep freezes and chills, but this was something new altogether.
Kyenna wanted to lean her head back and scream, wanted to move, cast the crystals of ice from her skin but she could not budge. Instead the ice thickened, breaking apart into a myriad of misshapen crystals that coated all of her exposed skin, and she could feel it creeping up under the tatters of her clothing, the frozen energy literally oozing out of her skin, freezing her into a strange and terrifying sort of prison. In desperation she reached for the staff that was lying in the snow nearby, as if it might help her to overcome the rage of magic that was taking her, but it was too far away. Her muscles were quickly freezing, locking in to place, her hand left outstretched as it solidified, strange and powerful magics still dancing along her freezing skin. Instead, she fought to summon some spark of energy within her, but her own magics continued to sing in a choir with the unfamiliar power that was ringing inside of her. It defied her will, it deflected every attempt to bend it to her needs. The song seemed to have a mocking tone to her, laughing at her as the corruptive force took hold of her power and used it against her.
By now her skin had already begun to turn blue in the deep freeze of the alien magic, freezing as solid as the ice that was beginning to encase her. She would have winced in pain as she witness tiny little fractures appearing in the blue of her skin, radiating from the back of her hand downward, racing along her arm as it shattered and cracked, a spiderweb of fissures that refused to bleed in the cold, yet caused white-hot pain to shoot through her arm and into the back of her skull, her body very aware of the desecration of her skin in spite of the fact that it was frozen solid.
Then another wave of energy issued forth from her core, resonating with the earlier magic and growing even more powerful. It seemed to spark forth from her bones and fill her flesh, failing to penetrate the cold layer of ice that had sealed her brutally in, and reflected back inward, feeding upon itself, tearing through her. She watched in horror as the flesh of her hips and thighs began to bulge outward, great crystals of ice freezing inside of her and expanding outward, distorting her image as they grew. The pain was intense, was so bright and pure that she wished for nothing else but to pass out and die.
Whatever force had taken her did not allow such relief. Kyenna could imagine the crystals of ice growing within her grinding her bones down to dust, solid as stone in the endless chill of Coldarra. Shards of the ice began to burst forth from her skin, shattering the icy armor that she had unwittingly grown, spikes that thrust outward and shattered in a shower of blue sparks, dazzling light as they tore her apart from within. More shards of ice began to grow within her joints, swelling, causing her arms to pop out of her shoulders with a painful snap, followed by her elbows separating at the joints. The painful sensation spread through her arms as it felt like every single knuckle, every single joint in her hands began to swell and distend until they snapped out of place, as if she were being stretched limb to limb in the most complete and terrifying manner possible. The ice that bound her was the only thing that kept her from crumpling, she imagined, but even then she began to twist in unnatural ways, the crystals of ice swelling in her destroyed joints and pushing her limbs in the wrong directions.
She couldn't even close her eyes; the lids had frozen open. In the periphery of her vision she could see her cheeks swelling with the formation of ice crystals beneath them, splitting apart as they growing shapes were too much, forcing their way outward without mercy. Yet more ice began to burst out of her jaw, forcing her teeth to be knocked out, spilling forth and clattering against the ice that had formed around her; so cold had she grown that most of them simply shattered at the impact. Then it was her own jaw that was beginning to break and shatter, popping out of place and being twisted about in an intensely painful fashion. Though she could not see it, she could feel the grotesque advance of the force along her back, undoubtedly shattering her spine in several places, solid blocks of ice erupting out of the small of her back, making her feel slightly back heavy, making her feel like she might suddenly topple backward. In her mind, she began to fantasize about it - her body, freezing from the inside out as the uncontrollable magics fed upon her own, turned them against her, destroyed her from the core outward. The ridiculous idea that she might topple over and shatter on the ground, little pieces of her cast onto the snow suddenly seemed not only real but desirable. At least then, the pain would end.
Such a blissful destruction eluded her. Kyenna had no idea how she was still alive, the force of the blocks of ice growing within her surely pulverizing her skeleton, grinding her innards into an icy, slushy mess should have finished her off, but the angry resonance of the magic inside of her refused her any such a gift. Solid ice crystals had bored their way from her cheekbones and her brow, encasing her eyes in dazzling reflections of blue and white that left her blind to her predicament. Somehow, not being able to see what was going on made it that much more frightening, that much more unbearable. It felt as if the prison of ice was growing around her head, swelling and contracting about her, threatening to burst her skull and expose her brain to the gelid cold that surrounded her. That, at least, might have the effect of mercifully ending her consciousness.
All she could do now is wait for the end to come. If it weren't for the cold, she would be crying. Dennys ... I'm so sorry, _she thought to herself. _I should have listened. Somehow, it was strangely satisfying to her knowing that his own death, while frightening, would have been far less brutal than the fate she was suffering.
Her ears registered the sound of chunks of ice grinding together, snapping, shattering into shards. The prisms of ice that had formed around her eyes forced one against another and snapped as well, blinding her with the momentary glare of the sun.
The last of the blocks and crystals had shattered, sloughing away from her body and scattering around her. The rime of blue and white ice that had fully encased her body broke apart in a spiderweb of fractures, and, beyond expectation, she suddenly realized she could move.
Frantically, she swiped at the ice, trying to break it from her arms, scrape it away from her skin, but it would not budge. The harder she tried, the more she realized that the effort was uncomfortable, then painful. Finally, she stopped and looked down at the little bits of ice that remained on her arms and ran down her torso actually formed curious patterns of blue and white, lighter colors down her front and her palms, darker blues along her side and the back of her hands.
All at once she came to another pair of realizations. The flecks of ice that coated her body were not ice at all, but were warm, protective scales. Her hands had been deformed, the fingers elongated, ending in wicked looking claws. Startled, she looked down to see the same had happened to her legs, thicker, her feet warped into big paws with wicked looking talons. She swung her head around to stare at an enormous protrusion from her backside, having become an entire continuation of her torso, all the way back to another set of legs and a tail that hung into the air. It was only then that she realized she was taking in everything from over a narrow, blunted snout.
She also realized that the dissonant tones of magic battling inside of her had ceased. The old, familiar song of her energy vibrating within her was gone; it had been utterly silenced. All that remained was the unfamiliar song that had invaded her, corrupted her, changed her from the inside out. The song of the Blue Dragonflight.
She was looking at her own body, twisted and transformed into the shape of a dragonkin, identical to that of the corpses that still littered the snow around her. She shuddered, in spite of the fact that the bite of the cold had been reduced to almost nothing.
"What ..."
Her eyes whipped around to where her staff lie in the snow, and she realized that it, too, had changed. It was still charged with the energy of the ley line, but somehow she could see it differently than she had before. It looked the same to her eyes but somehow the power of it impinged upon her vision and her senses in a very visceral way. She could feel the latent energies of the ley line nearby coursing through the ground, but rather than a feeling of raw power it sang out in beautiful harmony with her senses.
Experimentally she attempted to summon forth a flicker of her power, but the suggestion of it raced through her body, echoing powerfully with the song inside of her and then issuing forth from her fingertips in a burst of almost inexplicable strength, augmented beyond her belief or expectations.
The realization of what that meant struck her all at once. The force of her suggestion had resonated through her form, amplified by it, sounding in pure harmony with the song of the dragonflight buzzing inside of her veins. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever imagined. She felt almost exultant as she leaned forward and scooped up her staff in her hands, the latent energy in it immediately calling to her senses. She realized that, granted this form, she not only could control the energy that was now stored in the staff but that she could focus it, amplify it, wield it as she saw fit.
"Is this their true power?" She wondered aloud of the dragonflight, and wondered how it was that she could ever have stood up to a single one of them, let alone entire squadrons of them.
That was when she felt something that made her nerves tingle. She did not have to turn around to realize that someone was standing behind her.
Gripping the staff protectively in her arms, she whipped around and came face to face with a tall blood elf who was standing mere yards away on a snowdrift, gazing down at her curiously. He had to have been one of the Kirin Tor, come to investigate the energy that she had unwittingly unleashed. Undoubtedly he would attack her, and she would have to strike first. The staff came up, when she realized something was not quite right - this was no blood elf. Blue eyes regarded her from beneath azure brows, eyes filled with an immense amount of wisdom, eyes that were unbelievably old.
Malygos.
The power in the staff was immense. She instinctively felt it was enough to rend entire mountains; it would be enough, even against the aspect. With a roar of effort, she brought the staff to bear and aimed it straight at him, gathering all the fury and power within her and commanded it to unleash against him. Destroy!
The dragon in high elf form simply lifted one hand, speaking in a surprisingly soft voice. "Stop."
Kyenna felt herself suddenly incapable of moving. Her muscles had suddenly locked into place, the force of energy within her had simply died out at her fingertips. The staff in her hands shuddered, vibrated, and then splintered into a hundred thousand pieces that cascaded uselessly to the snow at her feet, the power contained within it scattered to the air.
She had been too slow, or he was too fast. His eyes regarded her with something like disdain as he moved toward her. She was finished, now.
"You wield much power for one so young," he said, his voice quiet but sonorous as he came to within a few feet of her, his eyes seeming to study her both within as well as without. The eyes were lined with anger and pain, but also a deep and abiding sadness. "Like all the young races of the world. So much power and so little restraint; such devastation would you visit upon the face of the earth with it."
Kyenna wanted to speak, wanted to shout some epithet at him, but she was still incapable of movement, and forced to simply watch as he walked around her and spoke. "Why? Why the urge to such destructive force? Too often have I seen it in my life, in my many years. The arrogance of the Kaldorei, whose folly has brought the Destroyer of Worlds and his legions. The insanity of the orcs who destroyed their own world. Arthas, he who betrayed his own people, he who slew his own father." Malygos shook his head and breathed a sigh. "Each time through the misuse or abuse of magic, the thirst for more power. Each time, more death and destruction visited upon the innocent. Behold, even your own lust for power, your own reckless misuse of magic has come at a grave cost. The life of your own brother."
Her eyes were forced to follow his gesture to the side, even though she already knew what he was pointing at. The block of ice with the silhouette of a man forever locked inside was an unmistakable and eternal sign of the crime she had committed. She did not try to make up any kind of excuse; the guilt she felt in her heart was too strong. "The betrayal of family is not foreign to me," he continued. "My dear brother Neltharion fooled me in the pursuit of immense power. He destroyed my brood, he destroyed me, all for greater power and greater magic. Such is the price of power."
He turned to look at her with those baleful, blue eyes. "You are too young."
She realized that she was no longer being held in his spell. The taste of the energy flowing from the nearby ley lines was strong on her tongue, she could feel it. It called to her senses, and she knew now that she did not need the staff to partake of that energy. With a yell, she called forth a gout of power, drawing directly on the nearby ley line and firing it off in his direction, an angry rush of azure force that swelled in her vision and completely engulfed the dragon's form, sweeping past him and biting into the hillside with an incredible force. To her astonishment it tore right through the stone, splintering the native granite into a million pieces, boulders shattering and the scree scattering across the landscape. When the power settled down, there was no sight of Malygos, and an angry gash was torn across the mountain behind where he had stood.
"Why? Why would you wish to command such power in the name of destruction?"
The voice came from behind her, and again she whipped around. Malygos, the aspect of magic, stood in his true form, towering over her in his fullest glory. The sight made her cower back, but the anger she felt on her nerves was raw and real. "Destruction? It is you who have declared war on the Kirin Tor, it is you who assails Wyrmrest Accord! Don't speak to me of destruction!"
His snort was full of derision, glowing golden eyes glaring down at her. "The Kirin Tor are fools," he said, echoing her own sentiment in a way that made her gape. "They wield magics they do not fully understand as if it were all there for the taking. They assault my Nexus and attempt to steal artifacts of power that are not theirs for the taking. Do not think I take any joy in the death of the Kirin Tor or its mages. I would gladly leave them be if they would simply listen to reason, but they fight back. They refuse to stop, refuse to listen to reason. Force is the only language they speak.
"And Wyrmrest?" The great dragon snorted again, lashing at the ground with his tail. "My sister has blinded herself with her love for all things living. She is the the Life-Binder, it is her domain to protect the lesser creatures of the world, but to what end? She does not see what I see; she does not see the destruction that the lesser creatures visit upon this world. In her love of life, she would see it snuffed out. The death of any dragon at the hands of my flight is a wound upon my conscience, but what choice do I have? What choice have I been given?"
Again Kyenna gasped and wanted to retreat before the great dragon, but then he hung his head low. "You have such great power, young one. Yet you are eager to misuse it. Look at the havoc you have visited upon us already with it. Dozens of my children lie dead and decaying. Your brother lies frozen for eternity at your hand. The earth itself groans beneath the force of your power and the wounds you have inflicted upon it. Would you continue down this path?"
The voices of dozens of fellow mages who had died at the hands of Malygos and his kindred swelled up in her chest. The cries of the dozens of dragons who had been felled at Wyrmrest echoed in her head, demanding to be heard, demanding that she stand up to the beast in front of her, but somehow she could not find the energy, could not find the willpower. It was not by means of any spell or cantrip, for the great blue dragon in front of her was directing no force other than that of his emotions : sadness, frustration, regret. The same emotions now echoed within her chest. She could still sense the frozen form of her brother, killed in a fit of her own rage. She could still see the angry wound upon the mountains that she had inflicted with no forethought of the consequences of her actions. The scent of magic-charred flesh still hung in the air, burning her nostrils with its acrid odor. She had, in the space of a few moments, caused so much death and destruction and mayhem, and for what? For fame, for power, for recognition.
Malygos broke the silence with his strained, sonorous voice. "You are too young," he repeated again, his head downcast as he turned and looked back in the direction of the Nexus, turning his back upon her, leaving himself open to her attacks. "Few of your kind have the wisdom to understand the gravity, the severity of their actions. Few understand the grave peril that the reckless younger races have unleashed upon the world. Those few have sought me out, aligned themselves with my cause, and pleaded for the blessings of the flight. They who took sacred oaths, pledges to fight for the stability of magic, who sacrificed their own bodies to become my kin in form as well as in spirit," he said, dipping his head to lightly nudge at one of the fallen dragonkin who still smoldered on the snow.
The display made Kyenna's heart wrench in her chest. In her zeal she had slain dozens of the creatures, forgetting that they too were living, thinking beings, forgetting that they, too, had cares and emotions, loves and fears. "I'm sorry," she breathed out, lamely.
The great dragon's head turned, his gaze fixing upon her once more. "Few are those who have shown the wisdom to seek the blessings of my flight and know the feeling of being in true harmony with the chords of Magic. Fewer still are those who have found that harmony without our blessing, who have made themselves one of us without our intervention. So few are they, that until today, they have been none," he said, lowly, stepping closer and suddenly looming large over her.
She quivered beneath his towering form. In spite of her fear that he was about to strike her down, she found she could not find the will to strike back, could not find the will to defend herself. Shaking, on the verge of tears, she merely repeated herself. "I'm sorry ..."
"Kyenna." His voice was thick with sorrow and hurt, yet somehow devoid of anger. He reached for her, a single massive finger curling around her back and touching her softly. "Your command of magic is almost without precedent, but you are too young. In untrained hands the power you wield might be enough to rock Azeroth to its core, but it is far more likely you would burn yourself out in a spark of magic before you knew what was happening. I condemn you not for the follies of ignorance and acting under the banner of those equally ignorant. Our pain is great, but not so great we cannot forgive. Your power is too great to allow it to run amok, to express itself without restraint, however. I cannot allow it; I will not allow it. Pledge yourself to me, Kyenna, become one of my flight in spirit as well as in form, and return with me to the Nexus. Join me. I will teach you the true command of your power, the true command of your form, and in time you may stand amongst my most powerful agents in defense of Magic, in defense of this world."
The voices deep inside of her continued to demand retribution. Malygos was insane, crazy; it was his foolish machinations that were endangering the world, it was his agents who were dabbling in reckless fashion. He was trying to fool her, trick her, warp her mind into obeying his twisted designs. Yet he was Malygos, ancient Lord of Magic, its steward and protector. None were as wise as he. Surely he knew what he was doing; surely, he could be trusted in this.
"Come with me, child," his voice continued, soft and serene, full of wisdom and promise. "Come and behold the true secrets of magic, come and be one with it. Become one with my flight. Become one with me."
Everything that she knew, everything that she had been taught, that she had fought for, was screaming deep within her core, urging her to resist his advances, urging her back to her senses. He was undoubtedly using some kind of spell against her, some kind of arcane magic to warp her mind to his cause. She was merely being arrogant in her belief that she should be able to detect such an intrusion. Yet the dragon was calm, relaxed, sincere. He was far more wise, ancient and learned than any of the Kirin Tor, the Council, all of the mages of Dalaran. How could she question him?
Again he spoke, his voice soft yet hiding urgency therein. "Choose, child. Abandon your youthful indiscretions, your urge to destruction and power. Accept my offer of wisdom and knowledge. Swear fealty to the Blue Dragonflight. Become one of my own for eternity."
He did not have to finish his statement for her to realize the inherent threat in the other choice. The consequence of denying him was implicit in his words; choose me or die. The unspoken threat resonated deep within her heart, a spark that quickly roared into a fire of anger and vengeance. She did not have to stand here and listen to veiled threats to her existence; she did not have to stand here while this wretched deceiver tried to sway her to his evil designs. As the magic swelled up inside of her, a torrent of icy-cold fire that swirled and resonated, brought to a veritable maelstrom of energy building up in side of her, she realized that she would not be able to defend herself against his power. It did not matter, however. If she refused him, he would strike her down in a heartbeat, but if she took matters into her own hands ... that ancient, arcane energy resonating in her bones would be released in a single and unimaginable explosion of power. Malygos was right; she would burn herself out in a spark of power, but she would burn him with her. The explosion of energy would rock Coldarra, leave a smoldering crater in its wake. The force of it would rip the Nexus right out of its magical moorings, shattering the icy halls of power, bringing his entire operation down in a single, terrible, wondrous cascade of energy the likes of which had never been witnessed. Even if the aspect found some way to survive the force of the blast, he would be neutered by the loss of his base of operations, bereft of his power, left alone in the wake of the destruction of his flight. He would be easy pickings for Wyrmrest at that point.
The destruction would be delicious, immense, and beyond imagination.
In that moment, she was struck with a sickening realization. Without thinking about it, she had conjured up the will to unleash a destructive force of such proportions that it boggled even her own mind. For the want of nothing other than revenge, a sense of some kind of wayward loyalty to those who had taught her, for the mere human propensity to strike out and cause damage, she was willing to destroy countless lives. She was willing to leave a terrible scar upon the face of the earth. She was willing to risk the stability of all of Azeroth for a half-second of her own immense glory, and then she would be dead.
Malygos was right.
Within the space of a heartbeat, the force within her collapsed. The cold fire borne on wings of anger and retribution fell into the pit of her soul, extinguishing itself in a sickening sputter that made all four of her knees suddenly weak. Unthinking, she dropped to a kneel before the great aspect, her head drooping low near the snow as she began to weep, her powerful form wracked with deep and heartfelt sobbing. "You ... you're right ... I ... please, please, save me ... from myself ..."
He leaned his massive head forward, resting it against the snow so he could look into her eyes, the golden fire of his own penetrating to the depths of her soul as he looked at her. "You can only save yourself, my child. Swear yourself to me, heart and soul, to serve me, to become one of my flight, and I will do all that is within my power to help, to show you how ..."
Kyenna required no further instruction, and merely shook her head. "I swear it. With every fiber of my being, I pledge myself to the flight ... to you ... I am yours to command, to teach, to shape as you will ..."
There was a long moment of silence before she felt a wave of magic washing over her, making her suddenly feel calm, relaxed, tired. "Then so be it, my child. Sleep," he instructed. Before her eyes shut all the way, she could see his massive figure turning, beginning to walk slowly toward the Nexus, as a small platoon of heavily muscled dragonkin emerged from behind the trees to begin making their way in her direction. Her eyes closed, her body submitting itself to the command to rest, the calm was so intense and deep. Before she lost all consciousness, she could feel hands upon her form, bearing her up; she could hear his voice fading in the distance. "Gently, my children. Deliver her to the nesting grounds ... she has much to learn ... but will require sleep ... a long, deep sleep ..."