Resurgence of the Light ch 18

While traversing the region Light’s Chosen had designated as the Borean Tundra, Velonara found herself contemplating their forthcoming mission and the enigmatic figures they were bound to meet.

Dragons, a topic she was familiar with, yet her knowledge was limited to tales and descriptions. She had never personally encountered one. However, as she regarded the gnome whom Light’s Chosen had singled out, she realized she might have indeed met a dragon before, without recognizing their draconic nature.

The concept that colossal, fire-breathing, flying creatures had the ability to transform into mortal forms struck her as profoundly unsettling. Her thoughts veered back to Light’s Chosen's words about the disguised gnome harboring a desire to annihilate them all.

As she attempted to muster the courage to seek clarification, a constant battle raged within her—whether to inquire and risk appearing bothersome, or to remain silent and uninformed.

“Speak,” Light’s Chosen’s voice resonated like a rumbling undercurrent, though his gaze remained fixed ahead as he guided his steed along the trail.

“My Lord,” Velonara began, releasing the questions that had been building within her. “Why would she seek to eliminate us, and what do you mean when you said she was a slave?”

For a brief moment, Light’s Chosen fell into silence, and the only sound was the whispering wind sweeping across the tundra. A slight shuffle from Light’s Chosen caught her attention, and she turned to observe him. He had shifted his gaze toward her before commencing his explanation.

“I may have slightly exaggerated her desire to erase you; her true aim is to erase me and undo all that I have accomplished,” he elucidated. Velonara’s eyes widened at the revelation. A dragon, belonging to the Bronze Dragonflight—keepers of time—sought to erase his existence. The mention of timelines and the Keepers of Time surpassed her previous comprehension. She had believed that dragons aimed to annihilate them out of hatred or malevolence, but this was an entirely different dimension of conflict.

Light’s Chosen continued his discourse, gradually pulling her out of her contemplation. “The Keepers of Time would typically prune discrepancies in the timeline. However, I have grown too powerful for them to manipulate or eliminate me from the timeline. The Light concealed me when I was weak, and I have now become too formidable for the past to be rewritten.”

Velonara was flabbergasted by the sheer magnitude of power required to safeguard one’s own past. The enormity of such a feat boggled her mind.

“As for their status as slaves,” Light’s Chosen explained, his disdain evident. “This pertains to the source of their power. There are five Dragonflights—Red, Green, Blue, Bronze, and Black—each endowed with power by different Titans. However, this very power has become their shackles, particularly for the Bronze. Aman’Thul, leader of the Titans and a Time Titan, has envisioned a 'Sacred Timeline,' and the Bronze are bound to ensure its realization.”

While Velonara didn’t fully grasp the intricacies of what he disclosed, she comprehended the essence of it. Her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the gnome, who appeared to regard Light’s Chosen with astonished and wide eyes. It was apparent that she, too, was taken aback by the depth of his knowledge.

In that moment, Velonara felt a surge of empathy and a shared anguish. She could still vividly recall the days when she and her companions had been ensnared in the Lich King's service.

~~~~

As they drew closer to the remnants of Azjol-Nerub, Velonara's unease grew. It was evident that Nerubians and other undead creatures would infest the area, and she was determined not to be caught off guard.

Remarkably, Light’s Chosen remained undisturbed, his steed maintaining its pace without the slightest hesitation or indication of vigilance. To some, such audacity might appear as arrogance—casually traversing a land teeming with enemies, even venturing near the ruins of a defeated foe's stronghold without expecting an attack.

But the reason behind his unwavering confidence was glaringly apparent: power. Velonara had overheard Light’s Chosen chastising her Lady and Uther, and she was acutely aware of his unimaginable might. His revelation about safeguarding his existence in time only deepened the awe she felt for him.

A sudden noise diverted her attention, and her eyes widened in alarm as a horde of Nerubians charged at them. She instinctively turned toward Light's Chosen, her voice catching in her throat, prepared to warn him.

However, he remained as composed as ever, calm and unruffled. Despite her mounting fear, she tried to ready her bow, but Light’s Chosen’s words halted her trembling hands.

“Do you know what separates men from lesser men? Predators from prey?” he inquired calmly, his words confusing her. Ignoring her bewilderment, he continued, “Fear. Predators smell it... and walk away when they don’t.”

A sigh escaped him, and he lazily turned his attention to the approaching undead. “Sadly, these poor wretches have lost that most basic of instincts.” With a casual flick of his fingers, he skewered the undead with Light, obliterating them all, his gait unwavering.

“It appears that death has made you forget some lessons your instructors undoubtedly imparted,” he observed without a hint of harshness, merely stating the truth. Yet, Velonara felt a sharp pang of shame.

“Shame serves no purpose here. Improve. Even before the Light embraced you, these wretches would have been a mere nuisance to you… now, they are like chaff in the wind. Do not fear the ants crawling beneath your boot. Crush them and move on,” he advised.

Velonara fell into deep contemplation, raising her hand to observe the sparks of Light dancing across her fingers. Memories of her early days as a novice ranger surfaced—the fear, the uncertainty, and the shame of failure, driving her to strive for improvement.

Had she truly forgotten these lessons in death? She vividly recalled the hordes of undead she had slain before being overrun, the terror that had once crippled her.

Her hands began to tremble, but then Light surged within her, purging her fear and filling her with strength. Clenching her fist and gritting her teeth, she resolved not to let fear govern her any longer.

~~~~

As they ventured into the Dragonblight, a vast expanse of snow stretched before them, covering the land in a blanket of white. The biting wind cut through the few trees in the area, cold enough to freeze one's very marrow.

Yet, Velonara felt none of it. The harsh winds merely ruffled her cape and scattered snowflakes around her. Traversing this region proved to be a challenge; the deep snow slowed their progress significantly, making each step a struggle.

Finally, she spotted a structure in the distance. Judging by their approach, Velonara deduced that it was their destination. Ruins of a massive road or some sort of pathway stretched alongside it.

"Wyrmrest Temple, the meeting place of the Dragonflights," Light’s Chosen spoke up, his tone carrying a peculiar quality that Velonara couldn't quite grasp—reminiscent, perhaps?

Light’s Chosen slowly turned his head, surveying the area. Velonara tensed, wondering if he had sensed something. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do you know why this area is called the Dragonblight?" His question hung in the air, and Velonara looked up at him in silence. "Dragons come here to die," he answered, sending a chill down her spine as the realization settled in. Before she could voice her thoughts, he continued, anticipating her unspoken question. "Yes, the Scourge have plundered their bones."

Suddenly, a roar echoed through the air, and Velonara hurriedly raised her head. Her eyes widened as an enormous red dragon soared towards the temple. The Light’s Chosen merely hummed in response. "Good, she has returned," he remarked, his tone unwavering. Velonara furrowed her brows in confusion—she? Did he mean Alexstrasza, the dragon he intended to meet? Realizing he had already moved ahead while she stood still, she rushed to catch up, steeling herself for the meeting that lay ahead.

~~~~

As they approached the temple base, figures and smaller dragons came into view, watching them intently as they awaited their arrival.

As they drew closer, Velonara was taken aback by what she saw. The figure looked like High Elf! One of her old kinsmen, disguised as a dragon, gazed at them silently, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the gnome tied up and hanging from Light’s Chosen’s steed. Undoubtedly, he could discern her true nature as a dragon.

Silently, Light’s Chosen picked up the gnome and raised her towards the dragon concealed as an elf. "I believe this is one of yours," he spoke calmly, prompting the dragon to raise an eyebrow at the gnome before turning his gaze towards Light’s Chosen. "Indeed she is. Would you be so kind to let her go?" His tone was light, but the underlying warning was clear.

In response, Light’s Chosen released the gnome, removing the restraints he had placed on her. As the gnome hit the ground, she shook herself and stood tall, briefly glancing at both Light’s Chosen and Velonara. For a moment, Velonara feared an attack.

"Chronormu," the hidden dragon addressed the gnome in a stern tone, causing her to stop and face him. Her hands on her hips, she looked up defiantly. "Don’t you ‘Chronormu’ at me! Do you know what he has done? Who he is?!" She would’ve continued, but the hidden dragon interrupted her tirade.

"The Queen wishes to meet them." With that, he gestured to the two dragons standing behind him and turned towards Light’s Chosen and Velonara. Light’s Chosen dismounted his steed and approached the dragon, climbing onto his back under Velonara's wide, unbelieving eyes.

"Come along, Velonara," Light’s Chosen said as his dragon began to ascend, prompting her to hurriedly climb onto the other dragon. The dragon ascended higher and higher, circling the temple. Velonara couldn’t deny the excitement she felt. She was riding a dragon! Well, more of a passenger, but still!

When the dragon reached the top and settled down, she climbed off and gazed at it in awe. The dragon, sensing her gaze, turned towards her, curiosity in its eyes. If she could blush, she would be red. Seeing Light’s Chosen moving, she whispered a quick thank you and rushed after him.

Ignoring the amused huffing of the dragon—It was just the wind! Just the wind!—she approached the figures ahead and was once again taken aback. They looked like elves, only three times as tall. The woman in the middle, dressed in a scandalous outfit, had horns on her head. Was she perhaps...?

Light’s Chosen stopped in the center of the circular room, and silence fell upon them as both sides observed each other silently. Velonara couldn’t help the nervousness she felt. She remembered Light’s Chosen's previous words. Fear was her enemy. She settled herself, allowing it to pass, standing tall and motionless, attempting to emulate Light’s Chosen as much as possible.

Tiny tip-taps resounded from behind them, but Velonara dared not look back, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead. Finally, the owner of the steps came into sight, stepping up to Alexstrasza, making the vast size difference between them even more obvious.

Alexstrasza gazed down at Chronormu, a gentle smile growing on her face. "Hello, Chromie. It seems you got into a bit of trouble," she said with a teasing lilt in her voice. To this, Chromie huffed before wildly gesturing at Light’s Chosen. "Do you know how many problems he's been causing for the Bronze?! The whole timeline is tangled up, and because of his echoing power, we cannot travel the timeline to fix it!" She stomped her feet on the ground, sounding almost childlike. "And not just that! He tied me up and kept me bound for so long!" Now she was just whining, a fact that seemed to amuse Alexstrasza to no end.

Chromie seemed to notice this amusement. "It is not funny!"

Alexstrasza turned her attention back to them, her amusement fading into seriousness. "While I am grateful for your restraint in containing, Chronormu, changing the timeline is a very serious matter that could have unforeseen consequences. I would like to know your reasons for doing this," she said calmly. Her voice held no accusations but was filled with a steely command, resonating with the authority of a queen. Even though they were not her underlings, Velonara felt her spine straighten further in the presence of such regality.