Draconious woke to the site of the ceiling of the mage tower… towering above him.
Had he passed out again? Why was it so quiet? While his fellow magi generally did study quietly there was normally a small murmur as his peers practiced the various arts.
He pulled himself up, brushing off his robes with a moan.
Why wouldn’t his left eye open properly? Why did he have a throbbing headache?
He stumbled about, still slightly buzzed but also feeling dizzy for other reasons.
As his right eye focused on the portal that lead to the lower levels of the tower and into Stormwind proper he finally saw his mate.
She was a furious shadow.
“About time.” She cooed. Not in the seductive form of the term either, but the deadly, dangerous one.
He tried to nod, only to find that his head began spinning and he stumbled.
She sighed and the shadows lifted from around her slightly.
“I’m sorry… I felt as though I needed to knock some sense into you.”
He raised his right eyebrow, only to feel shooting pain as the muscles around his eye reacted… or tried to. He growled and rested his palm over it. “I suppose I deserved it.”
He conjured a small bottle of water, and summarily placed the cool glass on his eye. It gave only a small comfort.
Anyone who might have portaled into the tower, unless they were also Dreanai, would not have understood them. They had naturally shifted back to their native tongue without thinking.
She nodded, satisfied, and seemed to soften a bit more… and the shadows receded further. She steadied him, mumbling her own words of power for a minute, concentrating.
His pain numbed.
He blinked for a moment, looked at the conjured water, and drank.
Sighing, he looked to his mate as she began to speak, “Let’s head back to Dalaran, if you’re up for doing another portal now.”
Draconious nodded. He hoped there would be better news there, perhaps something from the tournament or the Citadel itself. Anything to indicate one of the greatest threats to their adopted world was nearing a conclusion at last.