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none of these great powers could summon up the wherewithal to make a stand. True, thanks to the
Demon Soulthey were not what they once had been, but still they wielded terrible power. Yet, it
appeared that all three felt that the Age of the Dragon had passed, and that even if theycouldalter the
future, it would not be worth dragging themselves out of their self-imposed stupors.
I know that you and yours still circulate among the younger races, Ysera. I know that you still influence
the dreams of the humans, elves, and
To a point, Korialstrasz! There are limits to evenmydomain!
But you have not given up entirely on the world then, have you? Unlike Malygos and Nozdormu, you do
not hide in madness or the relics of times past! After all, are not dreams also of the future?
As much as they are the past; you would do well to remember that!
The faint image of a human woman holding up a new baby drifted by. The brief glimpse of a young boy
doing epic battle with childish monsters of his own imagining flickered into and out of existence. Krasus
momentarily surveyed the various dreams forming and dissipating around him. As many dark as there
were those of a lighter nature, but that was how it had always been. A balance.
Yet, in his mind, his queen's continued captivity and Deathwing's determination to wrest the world from
the younger races upset that balance. There would be no more dreams, no more hopes, if both situations
were not rectified.
With or without your help, Ysera, I will go on. I must!
You are certainly welcome to do so. . . .The dream dragon's form wavered.
Krasus turned away from her, ignoring the intangible images that scattered in his wake.Then either send
me back to my sanctum or drop me into the abyss! Perhaps it would be best if I do not live to see the
fate of the world and what becomes of my queen!
He expected Ysera to send him back to the arms of oblivion, so that he would no longer be able to harp
on the subject of his Alexstrasza to either her or any of the other Aspects. Instead, the dragon mage felt a
gentle touch on his shoulder, an almost tentative touch.
Turning, Krasus found himself facing a slim, pale woman, beautiful but ethereal. She stood clad in a
flowing gown of pale green gossamer, a veil partially obscuring her lower features. In some ways she
reminded him of his queen and yet not.
The eyes of the woman were closed.
Poor, struggling Korialstrasz.Her mouth did not move, but Krasus knew the voice for hers. Ysera's
voice. A pensive expression formed on the pale face.Youwoulddo anything for her.
He did not understand why she bothered to repeat what they both knew already. Krasus again turned
from the Lady of Dreams, searching for some path by which he could escape this unreal domain.
Do not go yet, Korialstrasz.
And why not?he demanded, turning back
Ysera stared at him, eyes fully open. Krasus froze, unable not to stare back at those eyes. They were
the eyes of everyone he had ever known, ever loved. They were eyes that knew him, knew every bit
about him. They were blue, green, red, black, golden every color that eyes could be.
They were even his own.
I will consider what you have said.
He could scarcely believe her.You will
She raised a hand, silencing him.I will consider what you have said. No more, no less, for now.
And and if you find you agree with me?
Then I will endeavor to convince Malygos and Nozdormu of your quest . . . and from them I can
promise nothing, even then.
It was more than Krasus had come with, even more than he had hoped for at this point. Perhaps it
would come to nothing, but it at least gave him hope to carry into battle.
I I thank you.
I have done nothing for you yet . . . except kept your dreams alive.The brief smile that crossed Ysera's
lips had a regretful tinge to it.
He started to thank her again, wanting her to understand that even this much would give him the strength
he needed to go on, but suddenly Ysera seemed to drift away from him. Krasus reached for her, but the
distance already proved too great, and when he sought to step forward, she only moved away more
swiftly.
Then it occurred to him that She of the Dreaming had not moved; he had.
Sleep well and good, poor Korialstrasz,came her voice. The slim, pale figure wavered, then dissipated
completely.Sleep well, for in the battle you seek to fight you will need all your strength and more. . . .
He tried to speak, but even his dream voice would not work. Darkness descended upon the dragon
mage, the comforting darkness of slumber.
And do not undervalue those you think only pawns. . . .
The mountain fortress of the orcs proved not only to be more immense than even Rhonin had supposed,
but more confusing. Tunnels that he expected would bring him toward his goal would suddenly turn off in
different directions, even often rising instead of descending. Some ended, for no good reason that he
could decipher. One such tunnel forced him to backtrack for more than an hour, not only stealing
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