Building Hope
He looked them over. They were all accounted for, all present.
Save one.
One that was important.
Their Aspect, Neltharion.
He understood why Neltharion was not be there. Or at least he tried to understand. Still the back of his mind churned. It was not right--any of it.
Amid the beautiful violet glow of the towering crystalline pillars, the pleasant heat of the bubbling lava pits, and the calming presence of earth, Serinar had never felt so disturbed.
Around him were the six remaining fully grown black dragons, a mixture of drakes of various ages, and three unhatched eggs. Two dragons watched over them, keeping them warm with their body heat. One, a massive, thickly-built black male dwarfed all the other dragons.
Ruthian.
Yet he and the other dragon's power was wasted, with only three eggs to guard between them.
Nameria, Ambassador Siderion's sister was watching some of the youngest drakes. They rolled around, eagerly playing, trying their strength with each other. There were females among those young drakes, a hope for the dragonflight at least.
They needed more females.
They needed more males.
But Serinar knew what the Black Dragonflight needed most was adult dragons unrelated to Neltharion. That problem spelled out every dreary thought in his mind.
The doom of their flight.
Not even the sight of drakes playing could chase away the harsh reality of where they were right now. Their Aspect, Neltharion, was a danger--as he himself had admitted before leaving them to the safety of Deepholm. Neltharion had said it time and time again, but seeing Neltharion's reaction upon entry to Stonecore had never made it so apparent.
Neltharion, the Aspect of Earth. The embodiment of the raw, primal power of the planet itself, whose breath could create the hurricanes, whose strength could break a tsunami, whose spine could carry the weight of the world without succumbing to the strain. He was a being that dwarfed the tallest mountain, could shatter plains when he walked.
But he as fragile as a dried leaf.
He was a danger.
Neltharion was brash, unpredictable, prone to impulses that went against reason and rationality. Worse, he was not a good leader--as even he himself had admitted.
Neltharion was afraid
Even of himself.
All because of Deathwing.
Neltharion was like a broken egg. No matter how desperately one might try to stitch the pieces back together, he would never be properly fixed. Everyone could still see the cracks from when he first shattered.
Afraid.
Afraid of himself, afraid of his own failures. He was afraid that his own failures would continue to hurt the ones he loved. Even his flight. He believed that separating himself from his flight, he could protect them.
He was wrong. His flight needed him now more than ever.
Like Neltharion, the Black Dragonflight was also shattered. The Black Dragonflight had also been put back together, but more than cracks were showing--massive pieces were missing. It hobbled along, but it was leaking like a broken egg.
Slowly dying.
Nearly all members of the flight were related to some degree. Each one separated by only by a few generations from their source, their common ancestor, Neltharion himself.
It would be the final nail upon the flight's coffin if they did not do something.
They could not procreate with each other, could not further their flight or make it stronger because they were related to each other.
They all smelled relatively the same, and while there was some deviancy caused by Onyxia and Nefarian's incestuous matings, none of them found each other all that interesting as a mate or consort.
There was no hope of recovering if the inbreeding continued. Neltharion put a stop to it immediately; females of breeding age would not breed with the males. It was his only solution to the inherited insanity; Neltharion deduced had been partially fueled by inbreeding. The other major source of his flight's degradation, the Old Gods, had no solution.
But not breeding, not bringing about a new generation of cured black dragons would be just as devastating to the flight as inbreeding, if not even more so.
The Black Dragonflight was teetering on the brink. They were mostly all related, there was not enough diversity to produce a strong next generation. What little hope they had was turned to ash by the Mana Bomb, which killed over half the flight, including many drakes and whelps.
A near-fatal blow.
One that could shortly prove fatal.
Serinar's attention returned to the three unhatched eggs and his mood soured further.
Three eggs out of nearly forty five.
He had saved them personally when Neltharion went missing after the bomb exploded over Theramore. Neltharion had made a feeble attempt at stopping the bomb's explosion. Yet for all his great strength, he could not prevent the massacre of his flight, his family, and his friends.
His eyes lingered upon the eggs. The dragons tending them checked the hardness of their shells for third time that hour, listening for how strong their heartbeats were.
Those three dragon eggs would be the last eggs the Black Dragonflight would care for.
No new generations would be made after this.
Extinction.
They needed Neltharion. They needed him more than he believed. They were doomed if they could not have their Aspect.
Serinar turned back to Ruthian.
Ruthian, was an odd man out among the other black dragons. He was a stoic being, mostly quiet, not saying much unless it was important. And he was a big supporter of Neltharion, even in light of many of Neltharion's own mistakes. He cared for Neltharion and the flight, and despite a lot of bad decisions the Aspect made, Ruthian still supported him.
Ruthian was important, Serinar knew. And he knew the rest of the flight though so as well. Their occasional covert glances at Ruthian revealed what they would not admit directly. Ruthian was the sole black dragon who was not related to any of them.
He was the only one.
Ruthian did not smell like the others. He smelt sweet, inviting. The only uniqueness among a sea of banal similarity. Yet Neltharion had never mentioned that Ruthian could provide the hope the Black Dragonflight desperately needed. Neltharion's concerns still laid in the past, with the mistakes of Onyxia and Nefarian instead of with the future. Yet Ruthian could bring the flight some hope. A new generation. New whelps to care for. Something to build upon after their great loss.
Neltharion loved whelps.
His thoughts were disrupted when Nameria nuzzled his side in greeting. The female that was caring for the eggs stood, rubbing along Ruthian's side. She was a "new recruit", one of the very few black dragons Neltharion had managed to gather prior to Theramore's destruction. She was Jacinthia, Jace, named for the golden orange colored zircon sometimes found in the Stonetalon. It matched her eyes.
Jace finished her intimate nuzzling of Ruthian by rubbing her face against his. The stoic seemed to melt at the touch, reciprocating with a flick of his tongue upon her snout before she turned and approached Serinar.
"Well...you two seem to be getting along," said Serinar.
"All three of us," said Nameria.
"We wanted to," said Jace. "More so than ever, considering the state of things."
"We are searching for a little happiness to lighten our spirits at least," said Nameria.
Jace's scaly lips curled to a cheeky smile.
"He smells nice."
"That he does," said Serinar. "We were lucky to find at least one."
"You didn't find me," said Ruthian as he slowly walked up to the three. "I came willingly because Lord Neltharion summoned me. It is our duty as his flight to come when he calls. Those who disobey are traitors. Simple as that."
"Those who disobey are like you...I mean...not in the loyalty department," began Serinar. "I mean...they're not related to us. Not related to Neltharion. Because of that, it's hard to cure their madness."
"No offense taken," said Ruthian. "I know your concerns."
His eyes came to the eggs, following Serinar's glance.
"You did something good," he said. "You brought hope back amid all the death."
"Three eggs," said Serinar. "Not enough. We need more. We need a new generation."
"It is better than nothing," said Nameria.
"It could have been nothing," said Jace.
Serinar's wings fell to his sides, his head bowing as he looked to the ground.
"What can we do?" he asked. "Nel said no...inbreeding. We cannot hope to make a new generation with the stock we got. I am surprised I came out so healthy...considering who my mother and father were."
"You are as strong as any of us, Serinar," said Ruthian.
"Yes, but what deformities could come from me if I...mated with Jace or Nameria?" he shuddered at the question. "Heart conditions, mental handicaps, clef plates. I saw what it could be like, and I wasn't the only one. Neltharion came to see some of the eggs hatch. He was nearly trembling in happiness, so excited to see new whelps. But it was small, smaller than any other he had ever seen. It...couldn't speak, couldn't understand... Neltharion...his face...when he saw that..."
They all shuddered at the memory, glancing away, silent for a moment.
"Dragon whelps are always born aware in their eggs," said Nameria softly. "That one... wasn't. Nor were the ones that followed."
"There were reports that many of Onyxia's own clutches had similar problems," said Serinar. "But she swept it under the rock. The stronger survived, right? She killed the defective ones and the stronger survived as it always has been. The only problem was nearly 70% of any one of her clutches were considered...defective!"
Jace leaned against Serinar as the dragon sniffed.
"It broke Neltharion's heart when he saw that whelp. And then there was another, and another..." said Serinar. "It broke his heart. It was all or nothing after that. He chose nothing. Sure, he still wanted us to maintain our connections, maintain the network. But we needed his help and he never gave it. Afraid he might hurt one of us in the process...like what happened to Sintharia."
He rumbled.
"We are in a sad, sorry state. We need some hope. The hope of new eggs and new whelps hatching will do it. It'll give Neltharion hope too. Maybe set him on the path to find new blood again, females and males who aren't related to us. Like Ruthian."
He held his breath and a twinkle sparked in his red-golden eyes.
"That's it!" Serinar said with a clack of his claws. "New whelps. New whelps will give Neltharion hope again. He's in Azuremyst Isle, lying, feeling sorry for himself. Believing that being away from us saves us from danger. Well, he's wrong. We need him. We need our Aspect. His energy is what can make our flight strong enough to face these challenges. But you three can help with the building blocks of that stronger flight. It will show Neltharion and the others we are not ready to give up just yet."
"Of course," said Ruthian. "I will be happy to mate with these lovely females..."
Jace and Nameria smiled, both leaning into Ruthian's thick neck.
"We will help build a better flight for our lord and Aspect," said Ruthian. "And for Azeroth. But we still need Neltharion. As you said, Serinar Neltharion's energy is required to empower the flight, to ensure that it is pure and strong. We need his energy, his essence so that the materials we use will be well fashioned. With his energy, the new generation will be stronger than the old."
Serinar sighed.
"The trouble is getting Neltharion. He will not easily leave his rut to come down here and participate," said Serinar.
"Nameria and I will go and fetch him," said Jace.
Nameria nodded.
"Well you two have a quite the task ahead of you," said Serinar. "If he's depressed, he's not going to be very responsive. Even with the prospect of new whelps coming, he is not going be motivated to move. If he won't come willingly, you'll need to kidnap him."
He snapped his fingers and opened his paw, a hearthstone appearing in a flash of green and leaves.
"Are we going to make a call?" Nameria asked.
"We can only hope that Neltharion is near a stone to answer," said Jace.
"No, we're not calling Neltharion," said Serinar. "He would have put the stone off the hook so no one would disrupt his day of lethargy. No, if he protests coming home, use this to bring him home. Open the portal, push him through it...and there we go."
He motioned for the two females to follow him.
"Fly down to the lower level of the temple," he said. "And go through the Alliance portal. It should dump you out in Stormwind, so go find a portal to Azuremyst after. Be sure to stay in human form. The last thing we need is trouble."
He dropped the hearthstone into Nameria's paws.
"We shall return victorious," said Nameria.
"No matter what he says, get him here," said Serinar. "This will be good for him. It'll be good for all of us."