→ getting settled in.

[queensconsort]

[As usual, he keeps himself wrapped up in his cloak. The ruby sanctum has settled down somewhat for the night, but the flurry of activity this morning will only repeat itself anew in a couple hours. Dragons don't sleep for long, after all, and they know that travelers from beyond the timelines will be here soon.

He should be glad, but he's just nervous. What can he do to avert the future he's lived? What will happen to him when he's finished? This world is familiar yet foreign to him, populated with the characters of his youth and completely different circumstances. They are not the Titans' children, yet here they are, under the threat of annihilation if they do not deal with the Burning Legion without the Dragon Soul.

Krasus seats himself at the base of a massive tree, feeling its life pulse through the earth beneath him. Flowers of all colors bloom around the roots, thornless and inviting. He reaches out to them with pale, tapering fingers. Despite his apparent age, they lean toward him, eager to please. He considers, and then he gently harvests some of the attractive flowers. He waves his hand briefly, conjuring a basket.

His ears perk. Krasus glances aside, sensing someone-- or a few someones-- nearby. The next thing he knows, there are tiny whelps sniffing experimentally at the flowers, nudging the basket.]

Hello, little ones. You have never seen a basket, have you?

[One of the whelps, pinkish of scale, gives an alarmed squeak as she tumbles over the edge into a fluff of foliage. The dragon mage feels his will to mope wilting. That whelp is followed by two, three, five more, until he has a bouquet of both blooms and babies. He sighs.]

... I suppose it can't be helped.

Comments

[queensconsort]

[Even whelps understand when they're in safe company, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered approaching him. He startles a little when Alexstrasza appears. He knew she was watching, but he didn't think she'd personally interfere. Being around her is painful. He hasn't been able to tell her who he is, or to enjoy her company like he should, for fear of ruining this already-doomed future.

He tugs his hood down a little more; he fears direct eye contact.]

I wish the best for them, though I know their lives will be fraught with danger.

[Only about ten percent of these whelps will live to adulthood. He knows it, and it hurts.

The pinkish whelp peeps up at the odd, scaleless figures. Krasus reaches down and gently lets her hop into his hands. She's tiny and warm, clueless about the dangers outside the sanctum. She noses at his cloak, then hops unexpectedly into his hood and nestles in his hair.]

Ah--

[asspect]

[ As she should remain for now. Many of the other sanctums have assigned guardians to keep other those of her siblings' brood, but the mortals that were sure to come. Despite her children's urgency to close their own as well, she made the painful decision to neglect their concerns in favor of providing hospitality to these newcomers. A gesture that could have severe consequences, but the Dragonqueen was blessed with geniality and compassion so how could she ever turn them down?

Naturally this meant she would have more of a presence in this area if only to witness every newcomer's interaction with her children. Her guard raises instinctively when she loses sight of the little one in his hair and before she comprehend her own actions, a hand reaches to try to push his hood aside. ]

They will grow stron--[ Abruptly cutting herself off when she realizes how close her fingers are to his face, she freezes to consider just what it was she was doing. ] Strong. They will grow up strong and magnificent.

[queensconsort]

[Krasus freezes as she tugs the hood back. It's nothing she couldn't see for herself-- three horrible scars down his face, silvering hair streaked with black and red. But he'd been hiding that scar for a reason. His younger self had been struck in the face while trying to wrestle the Dragon Soul away from Deathwing, and this was the result.

The pink whelp coos at Alexstrasza, nesting in the back of Krasus' hood. He lets it be.]

As all your children have, and will.

[Very carefully, he moves the basket and sets it in front of her. There are some excited whelps in there. And a couple sleeping ones.]

[asspect]

[ Scars? Not what she expects from someone who took to a guise like this, but she doesn't comment on it. There must be purpose behind why he wears them in concealment instead of healing them, though she's not familiar enough with him to ask.

Instead her gaze follows the basket and delight ignites the fire in her eyes once more. Their flight (her children) have been through some difficult times as of late, but she always found it within her heart to dote on them when she could. ]

For me? They are quite lovely. [ A heartfelt question though she suspects he couldn't tell her otherwise. Who was this man who treated her a step above the kindness of her other children? ] The children, that is. The flowers are a nice touch, but it's the peaceful look in their eyes. If only they could remain like so for eternity.

[queensconsort]

[He'd heal them if he could. But it is a wound given to him by the Destroyer, and he has no hope of ever looking untouched or unscathed. It's better to turn his eyes on the future-- or, in this case, the past-- than be vain about something so minor.

The look in her eyes is so soft and warm. He can't help echoing her smile.]

All children must leave the nest eventually, [he murmurs, gently scritching the whelp nestled in his cloak.] One must treasure each moment.

[asspect]

That they must do.

[ Leave the nest and then what? Her thoughts fall back to Neltharion and the pain he inflicted upon her brood that she brought with her. Had they remained elsewhere, their situation would not be as dire as it was. ]

Sometimes they cannot be safe even when surrounded by those that love them. [ Scooping up one of the more energetic ones into her hands to embrace them dearly near her face, Alexstrasza finds herself wondering just what it is that's happened to him. He's left the nest, but what events have transpired in his life since then? ] Try as I might to protect each of them, sometimes I...

[ She stops suddenly when the whelp eagerly laps at her face around her eyes, giving away just how close she was to tears. Silent appreciation for the kisses remains unspoken, but she returns the affection with tender scratching all the same. ]

[queensconsort]

[Krasus' smile disappears. It's clear Alexstrasza is struggling. He wants nothing more than to simply tug her into his arms and hold her close, but that gesture would only make things worse. He's fairly sure of that.

Her expression is so fragile, like she's about to break. Now Krasus is the one to reach out, gently resting his palm against her cheek. His hands are gloved, but he's warm beneath them, a warmth she can certainly feel.]

If only I had found myself here sooner, [he murmurs.] I could have saved them...

[His dark eyes flutter closed, and he looks away again.]

I have failed you, my queen.

[asspect]

[ Drawn in towards the source of warmth, Alexstrasza's initial reaction is one sought out of desperation. There's been so much pain not only in the hearts of her children, but her own, that it feels right to take comfort in this fleeting exchange. ]

You cannot take blame for any of this. [ It had been her decision. What was there he could have said or done to change her mind? Not a thing could have swayed her opinion as far as she's concerned. ] So please...

[ If her hands weren't currently full of whelp butt, she might have reached out for him again. Instead, she dips her head even closer towards him to ensure he can hear her whispered pleas. ]

Please do not burden yourself with things that cannot be helped.

[queensconsort]

[Hah. She knows, doesn't she? She knows of all the things that he burdens himself with, invisible as they are. Every single child of the red flight he's sent to die. Every person who deigned to help him with his various quests. All their suffering has become his.

His hand falls away after a moment, returning to his cloak.]

I want to change it all, [he says finally.] I want a world where atrocities are prevented, where my kin live long and happy lives without knowing hopelessness.

And... I wanted this meeting to be a joyful one, but I have failed at even that.

[asspect]

A joyful one? [ Has she done something to upset him? This stranger who treats her differently than most of her brood, yet has the same blood that runs through him. ] It still very well can be if you open up your heart to me.

[ So many of her companions have closed themselves off to her as of late. Malygos, Neltharion, then her other brother and sister. Being apart from them and at war pains her almost as much as knowing her children will grow up surrounded by these atrocities he speaks of. ]

Is that not why you have come here? To right wrongs and to restore not only Azeroth, but the many other worlds that the Burning Legion has rained fire down upon? A man alone cannot do all of that, but perhaps with another at his side...

[ And here she is bravely baring herself for someone she hardly knows. Has she grown so weak and vulnerable without her siblings that she's willing to latch onto the first of her kin that pays her attention? It's embarrassing, but she doesn't back down.

She can't now that she's spoken her mind on the matter. ]

[queensconsort]

[He can't tell her. He can't say what he's thinking, that he's dead and there's no way he can return to his timeline.

'A man alone cannot do all of that...'

It sounds suspiciously like an offer. He can't lie to her about that any longer, it seems. It's time for him to shed one of his disguises.]

Seeing you is always a joy. I... I come from another time, a time that is no less chaotic than the one you know. [Silver hair spilling across his shoulders, he leans down nonetheless to take her hand in reverence.] I have withheld some of the truth from you, though you may have your suspicions-- and rightly so.

[He keeps his head bowed, ears low.] My true name is Korialstrasz. For countless millennia, wearing countless disguises, I have guided the younger races. Sometimes I knew only desperation and loneliness; my travels took me far from your side, and my actions have not always been as noble as I would have liked. But I promise you this: my heart has not changed.

[His slender fingers flex around her hand, just enough to be noticeable.]

I will serve you once more, if you would have me.

[asspect]

[ It doesn't hit her as hard as it might have at another time. There's been so many tears shed the past few weeks that nothing can come as a shock now. Neltharion's betrayal hit her hard, but not as hard as it must have hit the rest. Her heart aches for the loss of her own and while her flight is plentiful, her siblings aren't as blessed. The loss of life is tremendous and will always weigh her heart down.

Hearing his true name hurts briefly, a flicker in the flame that is her radiant being, but she recovers quick enough. Only someone who knew her on a deeper level than most of their flight could see it.

Someone like Korialstrasz.

One of her dead consorts and the youngest. His life had been short and he died a hero like many of the others. Now she hears otherwise? That he's been alone all this time and more importantly, what was he doing here when he's already passed at a young age? ]

Will doing so get in-between your good work? [ Naturally she falls to that. Here he's doing a good thing for both the younger races and their flights so Alexstrasza must place them first above all else. ] I cannot be a distraction as much as it pains me to admit that out loud.

There are things greater than my own needs and desires at work here, Korialstrasz.

[ She thought herself strong enough to say his name out loud, but here her bravery falters. The child in her other hand perks up, watching the two adults with a brief attention span before nuzzling back into the Life-Binder's face. ]