Chapter 32: Kaizi Calls for Help

Under the dome of Wyrmrest Temple, the Eternal Flame burned silently, casting a glow on Alexstrasza’s crimson hair, making it shimmer like molten gold. She leaned over a dragon egg, the spark of life gently pulsing within her palm as she checked the heartbeat of the hatchling inside.

Suddenly, a rapid "tap-tap-tap" of footsteps echoed from outside the temple, accompanied by the crisp clatter of metal—as if someone were dragging a heavy sack of gold coins across the stone floor in a mad dash.

"Lady Alexstrasza! I’ve come to visit you!"

Chromie’s small face poked around the doorframe, her golden twin-tails disheveled from her run. Behind her, she dragged a burlap sack almost larger than herself, emblazoned with the striking label "Blackwing Fertilizer." A few gold coins leaked from the bottom, clinking as they tumbled onto the floor.

The Dragonqueen slowly straightened, her draconic eyes narrowing. "Chromie? What... are you doing?"

"It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! This is a gift for you." The bronze dragon girl excitedly pulled the sack to the center of the temple and tipped it over with a loud crash—

Piles of gold coins rolled everywhere.
Dalaran-made magical candies, their wrappers sparkling with tiny, animated stars.
Dwarven spirits, the corks stamped with "Blackwing Exclusive."
Several brand-new copies of *Legends of Azeroth*, their covers depicting exaggerated illustrations of dragons battling demons.

A few red dragon hatchlings, previously dozing in their nests, perked up their ears, their little noses twitching as they sniffed the sweetness in the air.

Alexstrasza’s expression froze in a rare moment of bewilderment.

"Chromie..." her voice held a hint of confusion, "why are you bringing me so many gifts all at once? Do you have a favor to ask...?"

"No, no!" Chromie stood on her tiptoes, draping a necklace made of shimmering glass beads over the nearest hatchling. "I’ve made some money recently! I figured since we’re all dragons, we should share the wealth! Dividends, just dividends!"

The hatchling blinked, reached out a claw to touch the glowing beads, clutched them tightly, and rolled around happily. Seeing this, the other hatchlings swarmed forward—some pawing at the candy, others trying to gnaw on the corks of the liquor bottles, while some flew about the temple with picture books in their mouths, the pages flipping wildly.

Alexstrasza watched the sudden chaos, her majestic lips twitching slightly. She reached out to catch a book falling through the air, flipping it open to a page—it featured an exaggerated illustration of the Red Dragonqueen battling a Dreadlord, with "Life-Binder Saves the World!" written in fancy script.

"These..." the Dragonqueen’s voice softened, "who drew these?"

Chromie, busy rescuing a deformed bottle from a hatchling’s mouth, didn't look up. "The human world is full of stories about the Dragon Aspects saving the world..."

Alexstrasza caressed the page with her fingertips and let out a soft laugh.

"How interesting." She placed the book gently beside the Eternal Flame, where the "treasures" offered by the hatchlings were already piled high—a few shiny scales, an oddly shaped stone, and now, a naive hero story.

"Next time..." the Dragonqueen paused, a flicker of mischief in her eyes, "you can bring more sequels."

"Sure, sure, no problem!" Chromie teased a hatchling. "I’m off to find Ysera next."

"Oh? Isn't she sleeping?" the Dragonqueen asked curiously.

"When it comes to gift-giving, it’s the thought that counts. I’ll just have someone else pass them along," Chromie said breezily.

"Hmm? Are you sure you don't need my help?" the Dragonqueen asked again.

"No, really, I don't!" Afraid of being questioned further, Chromie hurried away. "I’m going to find Ysera now."

"Strange child," Alexstrasza murmured, watching Chromie disappear.

***

**Pandaria: The Jade Forest Coast**

The beach was scorched by the midday sun, the fine white sand shifting between Daelen’s toes. He floated on his back, a straw hat covering his face, a half-finished pineapple juice with a tiny umbrella resting on his stomach.

"This is the life..."

Before he could finish his thought, a high-pressure jet of water blasted him into the air.

"Splash!"

Daelen tumbled into the sea, limbs flailing, his hat and juice cup tracing a graceful arc through the sky. When he surfaced, furious, the culprit was laughing wildly while sitting on an inflatable crocodile—

Onyxia wore a jet-black bikini, the dragon-scale pattern on the fabric shimmering like pearls in the sunlight. She reclined lazily, her legs crossed, remnants of water magic dancing at her fingertips.

"Only the weak need to rest," she murmured, her red lips curving upward. With a flick of her finger, a water vortex formed beneath Daelen.

"Cheating! That’s cheating!" Daelen floundered, trying to escape, but was spun around like a top. "We agreed no magic!"

*Splash!*

Chromie suddenly popped up from underwater, seaweed draped over her frog-shaped goggles. She grabbed the waistband of Daelen’s swimming trunks: "Time Acceleration—"

"Ah—Chromie, you little menace! My pants!" Daelen used one hand to desperately cover himself while reaching for his trunks with the other.

Suddenly, a flash of blue arcane light signaled the opening of a portal on the beach.

The three figures froze instantly.

*Whoosh!*

Jaina appeared on the beach, her golden hair pinned up meticulously, dressed in formal robes and holding a stack of meeting minutes. She arrived just in time to see Daelen trying to bury his bare bottom in the sand, Onyxia instantly shifting into her dragon form and flashing to the side, and Chromie pretending to be an innocent message in a bottle.

"...Did I come at a bad time?"

"No! It’s a perfect time!" Daelen’s voice came muffled from the sand pile. "Just say what it is!"

Jaina took a deep breath, forcing her gaze away from the farce. "Kael’thas Sunstrider is here. The Quel’Thalas defense line has collapsed, and he is requesting support."

*Whoosh!*

Onyxia instantly returned to her human form and emerged from the sea, water droplets sliding down her perfect curves as her dragon presence caused the sand to dry instantly, forming a path.

"Should've said so earlier." She snapped her fingers, and a black gown appeared on her body. "Tell that canary to wait; I need to change."

Daelen finally pulled his head out of the sand pile: "Wait! Where are my pants?!"

***

The blue velvet curtains of the Theramore council chamber were drawn tight, leaving only the cold light of the crystal chandeliers. Kael’thas Sunstrider stood before the long table, his slender fingers pressed against the spread-out map, trembling slightly.

His hair, once as dazzling as sunlight, was now dull and charred at the ends. A jagged crack marred his phoenix-crested shoulder armor, revealing unhealed burns beneath—the marks of fel energy backlash.

"Dath'remar has betrayed us."

The Elf Prince’s voice sounded as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. His finger traced a magical projection of Silvermoon City; the image distorted, revealing a dense tide of the undead.

"He gave the defense runes of the Sunwell to Arthas... The Scourge is now attacking the final barrier of Silvermoon. They cannot hold much longer."

"Theramore’s army is not strong enough to support you across the sea," Jaina said softly, her gaze sweeping over Kael’thas’s cracked fingernails—a sign of mana depletion from excessive spellcasting.

Kael’thas looked up sharply, the despair in his eyes turning into literal flames. "But you have allies!" His robe sleeves slipped, revealing the unhealed scars of binding shackles on his wrists. "The Black Dragon, the Bronze Dragon, even that... that..."

The council chamber doors were pushed open.

Daelen stumbled in, sand still clinging to his pant legs, his tie hanging crookedly around his neck. Onyxia followed behind him, her heels clicking dangerously against the marble floor.

"The ‘Agricultural Consultant’ you mentioned has arrived," the Black Dragon Princess said with a mocking smile, twirling a strand of her black hair.

Kael’thas’s throat bobbed. The innate pride of the elves made him instinctively straighten his back, but Daelen noticed the mud on his boots—the prince had likely arrived in a panicked, rudimentary teleportation, not even bothering with a cleaning spell.

"Arthas’s next target is Quel’Thalas." Kael’thas forced himself to stay calm, pointing at the map. "If the Sunwell falls and is transformed into a source of undead energy..."

Onyxia chuckled, interrupting the Elf Prince. "What’s in it for us?"

A brief silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the sound of Kael’thas’s ragged breathing. The prince’s knuckles turned white from the pressure, wrinkling the map.

Daelen added, "Prince Kael’thas, I have a question." His voice had lost its usual playfulness, sounding unusually cold. "The Scourge has been rampaging for so long—the Red, Bronze, and Green dragons... where are those so-called ‘Dragon Aspects’?"

Kael’thas looked up, a flash of astonishment in his eyes.

"They haven't moved, so why should the Black Dragon be the one to charge in?" Daelen continued. "Besides, the High Elves withdrew from the Alliance years ago. Now that you're in danger, you remember to ask humans for help?"

Onyxia’s lips curved upward, clearly satisfied with Daelen’s bluntness.

Kael’thas’s face grew paler, but his prideful instinct made him retort immediately, "The Sunwell is the crystallization of ten thousand years of Quel'dorei civilization! If it is corrupted by the Scourge—"

"That’s your problem," Daelen interrupted. "Elven nobles are addicted to magical indulgence, binding the fate of their entire race to one well. Now that the well is collapsing, you remember to beg for help?"

Jaina frowned slightly but remained silent—Daelen was right, though it was brutally put.

"So..." Kael’thas’s voice trembled, "Theramore will stand by and watch us die?"

"No," Daelen shook his head. "We can help evacuate your people."

He walked to the map and drew a line between Silvermoon and Dalaran. "Evacuate them to Dalaran—it’s the closest and fastest. There are two options."

"First: evacuate only the nobles and officers. We can open portals now, but the civilians and soldiers will be left to fend for themselves."

Kael’thas’s pupils contracted sharply.

"Second: a mass evacuation." Daelen’s fingertip pointed to the wilderness around Theramore. "But it requires the Elven army to hold the rear, Dalaran to handle mass teleportation, and the Black Dragon to handle the outer perimeter—and everyone must have the right to evacuate, not just those silver-spoon-fed council lords."

Onyxia chuckled. "Choose, Prince. Preserve your ‘noble bloodline,’ or leave a real spark of life for the Quel'dorei?"

Kael’thas pressed a hand to his chest, where a phoenix emblem—the symbol of the Sunstrider dynasty—was pinned. He glanced at Jaina, who nodded slightly.

"We choose the second option." The Elf Prince’s voice was hoarse but firm. "But the Sunwell... someone must destroy it."

Daelen gave a bitter smile. "You can only pick one—either evacuate the people or destroy the Sunwell. You can't have it all. Figure it out yourself. Otherwise, try asking someone else."

Kael’thas’s composure wavered. He wanted to argue but swallowed the words. "Then evacuate the people. The Sunwell is on the outskirts and has already been occupied by the undead. Only Silvermoon is still holding out. I hope we can get more people out."

"Then let’s get moving. We don't have much time left. How do you plan to pay for the costs?" Daelen asked finally. Surely he didn't expect them to provide men and money just to save a bunch of snobbish, useless nobles?

Kael’thas smiled bitterly. "Put it all on my tab. Send me the bill later. If that fails, I’ll mortgage Silvermoon; the land isn't going anywhere."

Daelen thought for a moment and nodded. "Fine. Mortgage both Silvermoon and the Sunwell to me. We begin the Silvermoon evacuation immediately."