A Dragon's Soul: Requiem of Cataclysm
They had done it. With a single powerful stroke, Deathwing had been vanquished - not without sacrifices, of course. A group stood in the yawning silence of victory, stunned by the immensity of what they had accomplished.
Ysera, noble and wise, was the first to speak. "Such power, World Shaman... the likes of which I had never seen before." A hand clapped her on the shoulder, as heavy as the smile upon the Orc's tired face.
"Together, Aspect, we did what we must. I know that you must grieve for what has been lost, but all we did was by necessit--" The sudden interruption of her hand on his draws his congratulations to an abrupt close.
"I am no longer an Aspect, I am mortal." Her eyes, Thrall realized, had finally opened. Like flowers turning to the sun, they settled on him with an intensity that stirred ancient bloodlust once throught conquered.
"Uh, yes well, we shoul--" Kalecgos uncomfortable intervention is cut short by the Life-Binder's kind shush as she takes him by the arm.
Nozdormu, stroking his beard, muttered with some aplomb. "Time for us to leave." With that, the three depart with mixed feelings.
Ysera took Thrall's cheek in hand, even as she pulled closer the one that grasped the Dragon's Soul, pressing it to her throat. To her, there was only him.
"Aspect, I..." Thrall began with trepidation but there was no need for such preamble. The Cataclysm in his warrior's heart demanded thunder now that he had given blood.
"Shh, I have found my true Emerald Dream." Ysera whispers, as her eyes close once more. The embrace is sudden and crushing, Aggra-vated by desires long dormant. Even as they tumble to the ground, the roar of a dragon echoed by that of an Orc, they never break their kiss.
A small, bubbly mass of blonde hair and green eye gives an approving smile.
Chromie does not depart.
<Empowered by the Dragon Soul, this goes on for hundreds of pages.>