So this chapter took a long time coming out. Some parts of it just seemed to write itself while others had me basically experience writer's block. I have to thank my beta reader, General Zargon, for patiently reading and editing my chapters.

Good news, or bad, depending on what you feel! I plan on releasing another story alongside this one. It will be a Bleach x Kill la Kill crossover (the first of its kind). The first chapter is nearly done so expect to see it posted by Sunday at the latest. The crossover is partially inspired by fairy tail dragon slayer's Naruto x Kill la Kill story Naruto the No Star. I recommend you go and check out his stories, he has a lot of crossovers spanning many different anime, shows and genres. I know some of you are worried that I will stop updating Rise of the True Death God for my new story. There is nothing to fear. The story will remain secondary to this one. I will simply write it when I am having trouble getting my ideas down for this story's next chapter.

So a virtual salute to all 33 people who have reviewed Chapter 7 as well as anyone who reviewed my earlier chapters. Now on with the story!

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Rise of the True Death God: Chapter 8

A warbling sound echoed through the Caverns of time as a time portal swirled into existence in what had been an empty passageway moments ago. The portal was open for only a few seconds, but that was long enough for a figure to walk out of it with nary a misstep. Mortals, when traveling into and from the past, always experienced a sense of vertigo and nausea upon exiting the portal.

Andormu, leader of the Keepers of Time, was not affected by the change in time and stepped into the sandy caverns without a single hair out of place. While most bronze dragons dealt with the preservation of the timeline using more subtle methods, to keep the timeline from being muddled by their presence, the Keepers of Time were known for their more hands on approach.

In his disguise as a male blood elf, a personal favorite, Andormu never left the Caverns of Time due to what might happen if he did. The blood elves were not to rejoin the greater Azeroth scene for five months, six days, and thirteen hours and if he were to appear as such, it would raise unnecessary questions that would involve him going to the past to stop his past self from leaving the caverns. All in all, it would be a very annoying problem to fix.

He walked past a multitude of his fellow bronze dragons, all of which were in various genders, races and ages. He even saw a few coexisting at the same time as their future or past selves. Andormu ignored all that due to the conflicting thoughts racing through his mind. Passing through a temporal barrier that would keep any mortals allowed into the Caverns of Time from passing through to the true time portals, Andormu appeared out in the main cavern. This was where any mortals would be allowed to visit, if they managed to gain the trust of the rest of the flight.

It was too bad that Anachronos wouldn't let the first mortals in for roughly forty more days.

"Hello Andormu. You seem to be of two minds today."

Andormu looked down at the familiar voice, "What are you doing here Chronormu? I thought you were still in Andorhal."

"Oh, I am," the female gnome replied, "Just not this me. I'm me, from the future, traveling back to do something the past me will have forgotten to do."

"Ah," Andormu understand the convoluted language without issue, "I probably shouldn't talk to you then."

"Nah," Chronormu, or Chromie as the mortal races knew her, him, as, said, "I'm finding this conversation rather enlightening and exciting. I did not know I was going to run into you on this date and time. In fact, I should not have met you for another five days and four hours, approximately. This feeling of surprise is rather nice."

"Yes, well, that surprise is why I'm here," Andormu informed Chromie gravely, "There has been tampering with the timeline. I was on my way to Anachronos to report about it."

"Report?" Chromie seemed surprised by the simple notion of doing that, "You know that we don't need to report anything. We just go back and fix anything that goes wrong."

Andormu shook his head, "This isn't simple. I must inform Anachronos to see what the course of action should be. "

"Oh," Chromie seemed crestfallen before perking back up, "Then I shouldn't keep you waiting. That's something I thought I would never have to say to you. I must admit that this day has been the most surprising since, well, never!"

Andormu bid farewell to the disguised drake and continued towards his destination at the center of the chamber. Approaching the large bronze wyrm seemingly sleeping on top of an outcropping of purple and black rocks not native to Azeroth, he bowed his head and knelt on one knee.

"There have been severe changes in the timeline."

The large bronze wyrm opened one eye and stared at Andormu silently. After a moment Anachronos spoke, his voice echoing with a deep bass overtone, "And you need to inform me of this because?"

"I…" Andormu didn't want to point out why he had come to Anachronos with the problem. As the leader of the Keepers of Time, it was his duty to fix the problems as soon as they occurred. To be seen going for help would imply to others that he was unfit for duty. Still, Andormu was not one to let his pride as a bronze dragon stop him from protecting the timeline.

"It would be best if you were to look at the temporal hourglass."

Anachronos, after seeing the nervous expression on Andormu's face, did just that and soon adopted the draconian equivalent. The Temporal Hourglass was an artifact given to Nozdormu by the great titan Aman'Thul. While Nozdormu would be able to see the ebbs and flows of the timeline with a mastery no one else would ever have, the hourglass would be used to show the current state of the timeline. It was absurd to think that Nozdormu could see everything at once. No one, not even Aman'Thul, was able to do as such without risking insanity from the eons of information flowing into his or her brain at the same instant.

The Temporal Hourglass worked to alleviate that by giving the status of the timeline. When the timeline was proceeding, as it should, the gold and silver sand flowed endlessly from the top to the bottom in a never-ending cycle. When something happened, such as an event in the past being changed due to outside interference, the sand would begin to pile up in the bottom. If it happened in the future, the same would happen to the top of the hourglass. What was happening now had never been seen before except for one instance, which had required the full force of Nozdormu's powers.

The sand had reversed directions, flowing upwards instead of downwards. That meant only one thing: that there have been a series of changes to the timeline so drastic that if they were to be left alone, the entire timeline was in jeopardy of being rewritten permanently with the new events replacing the prophesized ones. The only question plaguing Anachronos's ancient mind was why he had not noticed this until Andormu brought it to his attention.

"How have the changes been hidden?" Anachronos asked with an even tone that brooked no argument from his fellow dragon.

"I am not aware of how the changes have avoided our collective gaze," Andormu replied while averting his eyes, "But my travels through the timeline have not been for nothing. While I was not able to figure out the how or why, I was still able to find out just what had been changed."

It was a common misconception that bronze dragons had the ability to view the past and future at the same time. While it was true they could travel the timeline like it was naught but water and could have multiple versions coexisting at the same time, it was still beyond their power to view events as they unfolded, especially if said events were never supposed to happen. That was why if anyone traveled to any particular moment in time, there were always at least one hundred bronze dragons around Azeroth in various disguises, all to make sure events proceeded normally and fix them if they didn't.

"It is strange that this had not been detected until your investigation," Anachronos's voice rumbled with worry, "I would have assumed Soridormi's faction would have prevented such an event from ever occurring."

Soridormi, Anachronos's mother and the prime mate of Nozdormu, was the leader of the Scale of the Sands faction of the Bronze Dragonflight. Unlike the Keepers of Time, Soridormi gathered together a group of like-minded dragons in order to actively attack anyone who willingly and maliciously dared to change the timeline. Many mortals have tried to rewrite history to their liking. All have perished through the punishment of non-existence. When Soridormi or one of her fellow dragons found the perpetrator, instead of preventing them from doing it ever again, they would be written out of history entirely.

"Tell me, Andormu, what changes have you found?"

Andormu sighed, "The first major change occurred two days before the present in the area the humans call Hillsbrad."

"Hillsbrad…" Anachronos let out a deep breath as he delved into the timeline revolving around that area. While the changes might have muddled up the timeline, he was not focused on that. What he was focused on was just what someone might have changed. As time spilled its secrets into the ancient dragon's mind, he witnessed various events unfolding but nothing important was to happen around two days ago. The closest event that he could call major was the rebirth and second death of the necromancer Hecular, but that had happened over two weeks prior to the changes.

"The timeline is too changed for me to focus on what event might have been altered," Anachronos admitted, "Tell me Andormu, what is it that has happened to cause the Temporal Hourglass's flow to reverse?"

Andormu didn't think Anachronos would have spotted the change in the timeline. Unlike the Keepers of Time, who actively travel the timeline to prevent changes, most other bronze dragons maintain a presence through time while only looking for events that have changed. It had taken years, figuratively and literally, for Andormu to break himself free from that restriction. Instead of just looking for changed events, he had developed the ability to look for events that should not have occurred in the first place.

"It is not what event has changed," Andormu corrected himself, to Anachronos's interest, "But what should never have occurred in the first place. Two days before the present, something happened that made the humans of Southshore aware of the forsaken's new Plague of Undeath. Subsequently, they are beginning to prepare themselves for the inevitable attempt by the forsaken to destroy their town with said weapon."

Anachronos's eyes opened in confusion that swiftly turned to annoyance, "The humans were never to realize what the forsaken planned until it was too late to do anything about it."

Some might call him a heartless bastard for allowing hundreds of humans to perish in such a way, but Anachronos's view on morality was skewed by his ability to view the timeline with ease. He knew that every event that occurred had a purpose, whether good or bad, and changing a bad event so that it never happened would have unintended consequences. The destruction of Southshore, for example, was necessary to drive the Alliance and Horde to war in a few years time. The survivors of the attack were then to flee west and become worgen after Gilneas emerged once more onto Azeroth. They were then to join Gilneas into launching a war against the forsaken presence in the Silverpine Forest.

Now that the humans were aware of the danger, everything that was to occur afterwards was in jeopardy of never happening. If the humans were able to counter the forsaken's attack, Sylvanas would never have the military security to attack Gilneas without leaving herself open to a counter attack from the Alliance.

"That is not all, I'm afraid. The horde members by the names of Taruk, Maji, and Zulrea and the night elf Aewendir still live."

Those four mortals were not supposed to survive their capture by the Syndicate, but out of the four Aewendir's survival threw the biggest kink in the timeline. His death was to be the second to last blow to his uncle's sanity. Now that he has survived, and is most likely travelling back to Darnassus, the future of the night elves is a mystery. Without Aewendir's death as a catalyst, Tyrande will never have the proper political pull to depose Fandral and rule over her people.

"The timeline is being corrupted. Soridormi will be informed of these developments as soon as I am done with you, Andormu. Now, is there anything else that has changed?"

Andormu nodded, "Galen Trollbane still lives and, worse, is rebuilding Stromgarde."

That piece of information made Anachronos open one eye in surprise. Galen Trollbane was the last scion of the Trollbane legacy on Azeroth. While there were other members of the family on the shattered remains of Draenor, Galen was the only one that could rally the destroyed kingdom of Stromgarde back together again. His death, which was supposed to have happened when he sent his army out against the ogres and trolls, would have been the catalyst for Stromgarde's final demise and Horde control over the Arathi Highlands.

"Such dangerous changes to the timeline…" Anachronos stood up and a shudder ran through his body, "We must not dally on the how. Instead, we must focus on the why. For what reasons are these changes being enacted? Is there a purpose to these changes or are they simply a smaller part of a larger picture? Do you know the perpetrator of the changes? Is it them?"

"No temporal anomalies have been detected around the events," Andormu informed him, "It is possible that whoever is doing this arrived some time ago and simply waited before enacting the changes. As you are aware, they tend to open false portals in order to throw us off course. If they opened one such portal and traveled to an isolated region and did nothing for a couple of months, they would have given the temporal waves enough time to settle back to normal. That would leave us with nothing to trace where they originated from."

Anachronos looked at Andormu with concern, "This is a grave matter. Our usual approach of finding the temporal anomaly and closing it before the changes were made will not work in this case. It is as you said; the perpetrator arrived too long ago for us to pinpoint their point of origin. There is but one thing that we can do. We need to locate those responsible and kill them. Once they are dead, the timeline will reject their presence since they are from another point in time. Once that happens, the temporal anomaly they arrived in should reopen momentarily, allowing us to travel back in time to that location and simply close it before it fully opened."

"There is one last thing," Andormu was hesitant to say more. While he was aware that Anachronos was infinitely patient, there was only so much bad news one could take before lashing out, "Lady Soridormi detected an attempt by a black dragon to traverse the timeline and was able to stop them only partially."

"Hmm…was this black dragon Onyxia?"

"Yes."

"Troubling news indeed," Anachronos looked at the hourglass again, "So many changes to the timeline within such a short period. I am curious as to what is truly going on. They would never allow Onyxia to live, but at the same time, my vision of the future grows clouded."

"Go," Anachronos turned his back to Andormu, "Inform Arazmodu, and Zaladormu that they are required for a mission in the current present. The events that you have informed me of happened within a span of two days. It is probable that the infinite dragon responsible is traveling across Azeroth as a mortal, most likely a human. Quite a clever decision, I must admit. If we are to extrapolate their movements, it is likely that their next course of action would be to go to the Wetlands. The events there are to transpire at all costs. Any more changes to the timeline and we risk having it split off entirely."

Andormu turned to carry out his orders, but as he walked away Anachronos's voice carried with him, "Be aware that Soridormi will be sending someone with you as well. While your Keepers of Time are among the best of the flight, this situation requires someone with power. My mother's aid shall be more than adequate for the task at hand."

...

The number of spells and techniques throughout Azeroth that could be labeled as abhorrent against nature, vile, or downright evil could be counted on both hands. The ability used by the Lich King's Frostmourne, retroactively referred to as Soul Steal, is a good example. Soul Steal, unlike other abilities affecting the soul that requires the caster's willpower to be greater than the target's, needs nothing more than a lethal strike to sever the bond between the body and soul. A black dragon's Shadow Flame, while not as well known as Soul Steal, was nearly as evil.

Most fires burn when exposed to air or combustible materials. Shadow Flames, on the other hand, are significantly more insidious in nature. Although the sinister characteristic black flames are hot enough to melt mithril, thorium, and even elementium upon prolonged contact, all of which are metals known for their large resistance to magical spells and effects, it is the secondary effects that raise Shadow Flames up to the very top of the list of the worst spells.

Those killed by the flames themselves are considerably more fortunate than those that either survive the attack or somehow manage to negate the flames. Shadow Flames, under the direct orders of Deathwing himself, were created to burn away the soul. After a living target is hit by the spell, the black flames literally burn their way into the body until they encounter the soul. The flames then proceed to literally burn away the soul from existence, much to the immense pain and agony of the victim. The moment when the soul is entirely burned away, when the victim ceases to exist, the Shadow Flames will detonate with an explosion equal in intensity to the amount of mana in the victim's body.

The only protection against Shadow Flames was to have a black dragon of equal or greater power stop the spell before it completely burned away the soul.

It was lucky for Ichigo, or unlucky depending on the point of view, that the Shadow Flames that hit him were far from their maximum strength. To be at its full effectiveness, the spell requires the caster to be in their natural draconic form. The girl's weakened mental state, compounded with the injuries she had sustained earlier, had drained most of the lethality from the flames, though that did not mean that the Shadow Flames were rendered harmless. They were still more powerful than what most average mages could conjure on the best of days and hit Ichigo with enough force to burn a lesser man to ashes within seconds.

When the Shadow Flames hit Ichigo at point blank range, they quickly attempted to fulfill their purpose and attacked his soul. What they were not prepared for, could not have prepared for, was the fact that while Ichigo had a body of flesh and blood, he was still a shinigami. His soul, instinctively sensing the flames attacking it, had pushed back with his own spiritual pressure. The two forces clashed within the space of a second, with the result being an explosion that knocked Ichigo clear out of the crater and into the surrounding landscape.

"Damn it!"

Ichigo coughed and rolled over onto his side before staggering back to his feet. Whatever that girl had hit him with had really hurt. His armor, crafted from mithril and truesilver, two materials he had been told were resistant to magic, were severely burnt around the place where the girl's hand had touched. In fact, upon closer inspection her flames had been so intense that an image of her hand had been imprinted into his armor.

"What the hell was her problem?"

He looked back towards the crater but could not see anything due to the black flames rising out from within it. As he stood there, his brown eyes glancing into the flames with a calculating look, the flames seemed to ripple outwards ever so slightly. Ichigo, his nerves already on edge from being the victim of the Shadow Flames once already, took a couple of preventive steps back. He was pretty confident in his abilities, but from what he's seen and encountered, Azeroth wasn't anything close to Earth. There was no telling what other nasty surprises the girl might have in store for him.

As a familiar figure began to make its way out of the Shadow Flames, Ichigo removed his zanpakuto from the sheath on his back and held it in front of him in a two handed grip. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that the attack had been instinctive. While he was hoping this was all a misunderstanding, he wasn't going to let his guard down and leave himself open to another attack.

The girl took a single step out of the Shadow Flames, the vile fire seeming to part ways as she moved. With her left hand clutching her injured abdomen and the other balled into a fist at her side, the girl looked like a wounded animal, but the glare from her golden eyes suggested otherwise.

"Who are you? What is your name?" he asked cautiously while moving his left foot slightly back and solidifying his stance.

As he waited for an answer that seemed less and less likely to come, Ichigo took a moment to glance at the black flames surrounded her. While the heat emanating off of them was intense, even at the distance he was standing, it was the fact that the girl was literally standing in them without worry that troubled him. The flames licked and enveloped her figure, clung to her tattered crimson robe like water, flowed up her neck and through her hair, yet they seemed completely unable to so much as burn her.

It took a few seconds, but the girl's eyes narrowed upon realizing Ichigo was trying to talk to her. Her eyes glanced back and forth across his body, taking in everything she saw from his armor to the zanpakuto held in his hands, before focusing entirely on his face. While staring at Ichigo, her golden eyes trying to pierce through to his mind, she drew her hand away from her stomach and raised it until it was hovering just beneath her mouth, two fingers extended upwards while the rest were curled into her palm.

Ichigo was confused when he saw her bring her hand up, but that didn't mean he was stupid. He didn't need to be a genius to recognize the beginning of an attack when he saw one. The only problem was that he had no idea what she planned to do. Tensing his muscles in preparation for anything that might come, he decided to give diplomacy one final shot before a fight that he didn't want to get into started.

It was at times like this that Ichigo cursed his luck.

"Calm down," he said slowly and lowered his zanpakuto until it was pointing to the ground. Hopefully she recognized it as a peaceful gesture, "You're making a mistake. Why don't you just-"

Even as Ichigo was trying to talk her down, the girl brought her other hand up and clapped it together with the one already in front of her face. Taking a moment to lock her elbows, the girl took a deep breath and leaned back, her cheeks distending outwards as she did so.

As he realized what it was she was going to do, Ichigo's eyes widened in shock. If she was going to do what he thought she was, then this was going to hurt. Yeah, he was really starting to hate his luck.

His instincts screamed at him to move and Ichigo dove to the side just as a stream of fire, the same midnight black color as the Shadow Flames, spewed forth from the girl's mouth. The flames twisted and spiraled towards him, melting the ground and rocks at it went, and were accompanied by a roar that Ichigo would have thought impossible for a person, let alone this girl, to make without tearing their throat apart.

Ichigo slid across the ground, his armor kicking up sparks from where the mithril was forced to scrap against rocks, just seconds before the Shadow Flames roared through where he had been standing. Quickly rolling back onto his feet, Ichigo was shocked when he saw just how devastating the attack had been, but what drew his attention the most was just how wide the flames had been. While it had started off quite small and localized, by the time it had reached him, the flame had been nearly fifteen feet in width and burned hot enough to melt the ground beneath it.

"What's your problem?" Ichigo growled, planting the tip of his zanpakuto into the ground as a makeshift shield.

That last attack had come at him so fast that he had barely had enough time to dive out of the way before the Shadow Flames had reached him. One thing he had noticed, as he'd skidded across the ground, was that the girl had put the entirety of her focus on unleashing that breath attack against him. Since the attack had continued for several seconds after it became apparent that she missed, Ichigo deduced that she couldn't switch directions after releasing the breath.

"Ok," he thought confidently as he stared into the girl's eyes, "If she tries that attack again, I should be able to easily dodge it. That should give me a few seconds to reach her and hit her."

The girl closed her mouth, wisps of black flames still wafting off her breath, and took a step towards Ichigo, her golden eyes betraying the hint of amusement that she felt at his continued defiance. Bringing her hand up, in preparation for another attack, she noted with interest that Ichigo, rather than preparing to dodge or block her attack, seemed to be ready to attack. Before the black flames could form over her open palm, the girl collapsed to her knees as a spike of pain greater than anything she'd ever experienced lanced through her head.

With one hand placed over her injured stomach and the other gripping locks of her black hair, she let out a moan of agony that even had Ichigo feeling a little sorry for her. As she knelt there with sweat dripping down her face, she closed her eyes and let out a scream that was accompanied by an expanding wave of Shadow Flames.

"The fuck?" Ichigo cursed and braced his body behind his zanpakuto. As the cursed flames reached him, he realized that they were a lot weaker than the first two attacks. It could have been because she wasn't focusing on him in particular or it could have been because she was releasing it involuntarily. Whatever the case was, Ichigo was curious and a little wary about what was happening.

After a few seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes, the flames abruptly died down and Ichigo cautiously looked out from behind his zanpakuto. The girl was sitting on her hands and knees, her chest expanding in conjunction with her ragged breathing. Ichigo watched as she took one final breath and then tilted her head towards him, her golden eyes seeming to try to peer into his mind.

"…name…"

Ichigo blinked twice when he heard the girl speak her first word since waking up and attacking him. While he was surprised that she was able to do so, what she said bothered him more than it should have. He supposed it might be the abject strangeness of the choice of word or perhaps that, for just a fraction of a second, she sounded like something else. Noticing her gaze was still locked on him, Ichigo assumed she was waiting for an answer, "Why should I tell you my name after you tried to kill me?"

"Your name? Why would I care to know the name of someone like you? I was referring to my own name," The girl scoffed and pushed herself back onto unsteady feet. With her energy returning to her once more, and seemingly no longer suffering the effects of whatever pain had just hit her, the girl's voice was filled with a hint of nobility.

Her tone, which came across as haughty, threw Ichigo through a loop. Rukia had possessed a tone like that when he had first met her that fateful night, though while Rukia's had been nowhere near as bad or uppity as this girl's, Ichigo knew what she was referring to. The girl thought she was better than he was. Rukia had been the same way right up until Ichigo managed to save her life and temporarily become a shinigami. Ichigo didn't think this girl was as grateful that he saved her life as Rukia was, but he wasn't going to take that attitude lying down.

"Fine then," Ichigo crossed his arms, "What is your name?"

The girl sneered at him but didn't say anything as she began pacing back and forth, one hand interweaved in her hair and the other held firmly at her side, "Do you think I would ask someone like you if I knew the answer? I can't remember anything except a feeling of pain and agony and…you. You must have done this to me…"

"For the love of…" Ichigo groaned, "Are you even listening to anything I'm saying? I didn't do anything to you! I found you badly injured and gave you first aid."

The cold smile on the girl's face displayed just how much she cared about what Ichigo thought. Instinctively weaving her hands together in a strange and convoluted pattern she could not remember learning, she pulled at the mana coursing through her body. Thrusting her palm towards Ichigo, the fingers curled inwards as if to cup something, she pushed her mana out through her arm and towards her hand. To her joy, and Ichigo's surprise and annoyance, the black flames once again appeared in the midst of her palm, their density and power far beyond anything she had created before. Rearing her arm back, she prepared to rocket the flames towards Ichigo when they abruptly vanished.

Eyes wide in shock, the girl stumbled forward as a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit her. Clenching her teeth so tightly that they threatened to crack, she managed to catch herself before falling to the ground and stared at Ichigo between wisps of her black hair. Raising a shaking hand in front of her face, she tried to summon the black flames that felt so natural to her and yet, despite her willing them to appear, nothing came into existence.

"What?" she muttered in shock. Attempting to compose herself, she tried standing back up but her legs felt as if they were made of jelly, causing her to devote her consciousness and willpower solely to stop her body from falling over completely, "What is happening to me?"

Ichigo was slightly surprised by the girl's sudden weakness and failed attack, but he was not one to let such an opportunity pass him. For the first time he could talk to the girl without her being able to attack him.

"Look," he began with a slightly annoyed sigh, "Before you try attacking me again, you should know that you have everything backwards. I found you lying in that crater and was tended to your wounds when you woke up. So despite what you may think, I wasn't the one that hurt you."

As if brought out of a trance, the girl stopped looking at her hand and turned her gaze to Ichigo. For a moment it seemed like she was going to say something, but the minute she opened her mouth it devolved into a snarl. Forcing her muscles to obey her, she tried to take a step towards him but failed and fell onto her hands and knees.

"What's going on?" she gasped before wincing and holding her hand against her injured stomach.

"You shouldn't try moving," Ichigo reminded her, "You suffered some rather nasty burns and-"

"I don't need your pity!" the girl interrupted. Dragging a fist through the dirt, she pushed herself back onto her feet through sheer force of will, one eye closed from the pain still coursing through her body. After taking a few seconds to regain her balance, she tried to turn and walk away, with the emphasis on try. While she was able to take a few unsteady steps, her legs soon gave out on her, but before she could fall face first onto the ground, Ichigo rushed forward and caught her.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he asked. Ichigo didn't know why he had bothered saving her from further injuries. She had spent every waking moment attempting to kill him and now, here he was, literally right next to her.

"Do I look like I care about what you think?" the girl replied and tried to pull herself out of Ichigo's grasp. However, due to the combination of her injuries and exhaustion, he was able to keep her from getting loose.

As the girl's hand continued to fumble against his armor in a futile attempt to get free, Ichigo mentally sighed. Why was it that his protective nature always seemed to rear its ugly head only when it dealt with people who could either kill him or were actively trying to do so? He might have told himself that he had only caught her because that freaky black fire had stopped working, but deep in his soul he knew he would have done the same thing even if she could still attack him. He would have probably gotten severely burned for doing it, but he still would have done it regardless of the consequences, becuase that was just the kind of person he was.

"You should be more grateful that I tried saving your life, you know," Ichigo told her nonchalantly, "If I wasn't here when you hit the ground, there is no telling who or what would have come across your body. You might have even died before getting help for your injuries."

When he stopped talking, Ichigo was surprised to notice the girl had ceased her struggling. For a moment she was absolutely still, but that soon changed when her fist came up and slammed into his face.

"The hell!" Ichigo involuntarily let go of the girl and held his hand against his nose. She hadn't hit him hard enough to break it or cause it to bleed, but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Like I said, I don't care for or want your meager pity," she said and shook her hand. While she had put all her strength behind hitting Ichigo, she had still been surprised at how tough and durable he was. It was almost like she had tried hitting a rock, "Now if you will be so generous as to excuse me, I have someplace to be. It hasn't been a pleasure to encounter you."

"Bitch," Ichigo muttered and rubbed his still sore nose. Watching her walk away from him, stumbling every few steps but nevertheless continuing to stand on her own feet, he asked, "Where are you even going? I thought you lost your memory?"

The girl stopped and turned her head partially around, one golden eye staring at him and a half-smirk on her face, "That's simple. I-"

Whatever remark the girl had seemed to die on the tip of her tongue as she realized, much to her terror, that she couldn't remember where she had to go. She knew, deep in her mind, that she had to be somewhere but for the life of her, she couldn't remember. The fact that she was unable to remember filled her with so much fear that she felt as if she was going to faint.

"I don't see how it is any of your concern," she snapped at Ichigo to save face. She could not allow this person to sense her temporary weakness, "But I suppose that it does not matter in the end. Since I find myself unable to remember anything about myself, you are going to accompany me until my memories return."

"Like hell I'm going to do that!" Ichigo couldn't believe what he just heard. One moment the girl was attempting to kill him for nothing more than being near her and the next she was asking for his help. She had to be crazy to order him to do something like that and he would need to be crazy to even consider accepting it.

"Oh?" The girl seemed to find some type of amusement in Ichigo's reluctance to help, if the cold smile spreading across her face meant anything. With a sadistic mirth in her golden eyes, she said, "Since I have no recollection of events before seeing you, I will assume that you have something to do with my lost memory. Therefore, you will take responsibility for whatever happens to me until I recover my memory."

"Hold on just a damn second!" Ichigo protested and crossed his arms in front of his body in the shape of an 'x.' There was no way he was going to travel with this girl. If she thought he was simply going to give up and follow her like a dog than she must have lost more than just her memory, "If you think for one moment that I'm going to even consider going anywhere with you than you have lost your mind! You already tried to kill me at least three times in the last five minutes! Why the hell would I even think about helping you?"

The girl pursed her lips and seemed to, for just a moment, seriously consider Ichigo's points before disregarding them entirely, "I don't see how any of that is important."

As Ichigo stared at her in confusion at her answer she continued, "I admit that I was too hasty in trying to kill you, but in the end you are still going to accompany me. No matter how much you protest against doing so, I can see it in your eyes that you are one of those people that can't resist helping every person they come across. You might say you don't want to come with me, but you will not allow me to walk away, not with the injuries I possess."

"Your burns aren't exactly life threatening," he countered. By the expression on her face after his continued refusal, it was obvious the girl hadn't expected Ichigo to keep refusing her, "And those flames of yours aren't exactly weak. I'm sure you can fight an ogre or something on your own. Hell, with some of the things you did, you could fight a dozen ogres without breaking a sweat."

For a split second it appeared as if the girl was about to snap at Ichigo for refusing, but after a moment her anger turned to amusement, "How amusing. I didn't think you had the gall to actually stand up for yourself. What is your name?"

Ichigo rested his zanpakuto on his shoulder, "Why should I tell you?"

The girl smiled and turned away from him once more, "If you are going to be travelling with me, I feel I should at least know your name."

"She wants me to to travel with her? Right, and Rukia could draw like Rembrandt."

"The name's Ichigo," he reluctantly answered, "But if you think that I'm going anywhere with you-"

"Please, you give me far too little credit," she interrupted him without care.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, "Do you even know where you're going?"

"No," she admitted bluntly without facing him, "But that's not a problem. I shall know where I need to go once I'm there."

It took Ichigo a moment to wrap his head around her circular logic, "That makes absolutely no sense."

"Does it matter?" the girl shrugged and began walking away, albeit with a noticeable limp in her stride, "Now if you are done talking, we need to get moving."

With her piece said, the girl continued walking away from Ichigo, her path bringing her straight towards the Thandol Span. Ichigo groaned as he watched her walk in the same way he had been heading. For a moment there, he had seriously been considering just turning around and walking back into the Arathi Highlands, leaving the girl to fend for herself. It wasn't like she couldn't defend herself or anything, and he was sure Galen wouldn't mind if he stayed in Stromgarde until he could find another way to Stormwind. The only problem though, and it was quite a bad one, was just how dangerous the girl was.

There was something inherently wrong with those black flames of hers. Ichigo couldn't quite place it, but something about them just rubbed his nerves the wrong way. Realizing what he needed to do, Ichigo rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Damn, and this day started off so well. Pops must be dancing in his grave."

...

Onyxia's Lair, the home and last bastion of the princess of the Black Dragonflight, stood open for all mortals to see and plunder.

The dragon skull, a last gift from Onyxia's mother after Deathwing tried to mate with her, that once stood at the entrance to her lair and had been enchanted to keep anyone not possessing the Drakefire Amulet, her own design, out stood cracked and broken in two, the result of a unison of spells between nearly a dozen mages and warlocks. Inside the hot and molten passageways laid the bodies of whelps and dragonkin, all of which had given their lives to keep the mortal races from proceeding towards the inner sanctum where their broodmother rested and waited. They had known their strength would never have been enough to stop the mortals, but Onyxia had counted on them to stall for as long as possible.

Now the tunnels and passages were filled with dozens of Stormwind and Theramore soldiers. Bodies of dragonkin and whelp were being moved and sorted into separate piles depending on whether or not their hides would be salvageable by the tanners and leatherworkers. While some might find the idea of skinning sentient creatures and beings abhorrent, the scales and leather from a dragon could save countless lives in the future.

Sitting on an outcropping of rocks deep within the sanctum, his left arm wrapped in bandages and keeping pressure and weight off his right leg, sat Varian Wrynn, the formerly lost king of Stormwind. Deep brown eyes narrowed in contemplation over the fight that had ended not even an hour ago, he tried to clear his head, looking out over the sanctum as a bit of respite from his worry and stress.

It was good that nearly everyone that he had brought with him to take down Onyxia had survived the intense battle. He only wished that the adventurers that had volunteered to assist him hadn't needed to fight against the multitude of lair guards that continuously tried to stream into the inner sanctum as he engaged Onyxia. Out of all the deaths and injures sustained on this day, it had been the adventurers that bore the brunt of it. Varian would make sure that once everyone returned to Stormwind he would give them a proper reward for their heroism. Every person, whether human or otherwise, would have their names engraved in the royal cemetery, for all eyes to see.

A familiar cough to his side drew Varian's attention. After a moment of complete silence, he asked, "Do you know what happened to the body?"

Jaina Proudmoore, ruler of Theramore and close friend of Varian, let out a familiar sigh, "That's the third time you asked me that, your majesty, but still my answer remains the same. I have investigated the residual mana left over from Onyxia's body but I can draw no conclusions from it. Perhaps you can shed some light on what transpired in the broodmother's final moments. You were the one, after all, to strike the killing blow."

"I find myself wondering the same thing Jaina."

A loud rumbling sound echoed through the inner sanctum, temporarily bringing a halt to the conversation. Across the chamber near the entrance to one of the passages containing hundreds of black dragon eggs, Broll Bearmantle stood with his arms outstretched. Varian watched as the night elf druid, and close personal friend, directed the power of nature into collapsing the roof of the passage and killing the many unborn whelps that slept within it.

"I am unsure," he hesitantly admitted, "After I slit her throat with Shalamayne, there was a flash of light and then nothing."

Varian could not express how enraged he was at the thought that Onyxia might have escaped justice at his hands. After everything she had done to Stormwind, all the people she had killed and tortured, and the crimes she committed, the simple thought that she escaped aggravated the king. After she had killed Marshal Windsor after his exposure of what she really was, Varian had captured one of Onyxia's remaining spies in the castle. The interrogation and the answers the spy gave him still shocked Varian.

Onyxia had killed his wife.

He had thought the Stonemasons Guild had been trying to extort the kingdom for more gold but apparently Onyxia, in collaboration with the House of Nobles, had purposely withheld nearly 90% of the contracted payment. It was no wonder, Varian realized in hindsight, why VanCleef had been so angry during the negotiations. Varian would have been just as upset if he had thought the king was withholding nearly one hundred thousand gold in payment. The riots afterwards, where his beloved Tiffin had been killed by a stray rock, always bothered Varian. How had the stonemasons, simple carpenters and builders, managed to breach the castle defenses when it had taken the orcs days of besieging the city to do the same?

"She was there that fateful day," he realized with a sneer, "Katrana, no, Onyxia, was standing to my left when Tiffin was struck. In my depression afterwards I ignored what I saw but now, with my mind clear, I can remember a cold smile on Onyxia's face when Tiffin fell."

"Jaina," Varian didn't need to look in her eyes to notice the sadness in them. He knew that Jaina was blaming herself for what had happened. She had visited Stormwind many times since the Third War and even conversed with Onyxia quite a number of times. The fact that she had never managed to realize what Katrana truly was must be tormenting her, "You need not blame yourself for what happened in the past. We were all fooled by Onyxia's deception."

"I-Yes, your majesty," Jaina shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Jaina, is there any way Onyxia could still be alive?"

"I am not sure," she replied slowly, "While I am well versed in many fields of magic, ancient draconic magic is beyond me, but not for a lack of trying. The amount of literature and history of draconic magic throughout Azeroth could be held in my hands. The five dragonflights are notoriously secretive about their magic and spells. If the rumors and myths about them are to be believed, the dragonflights have destroyed entire towns to kill one person who learned their secrets."

"And no one knows about this?"

Jaina bit her lower lip and turned her head away, "What I am about to tell you is not exactly forbidden, Varian, but I would prefer that you not repeat anything I am about to tell you with anyone other than those you trust with your very life. There is no way to determine how many people died for this information."

Varian did not like the tone of Jaina's voice. He had never known her to be this quiet or submissive. He couldn't recall the number of times she had told him that 'Proudmoores always stand with their backs to the sea.' Still, to appease her, Varian nodded, "What did you discover Jaina?"

"You are mistaken. It was not I that discovered this pattern," Jaina quietly corrected, "I suppose I should start at the beginning. During my tenure as an apprentice in Dalaran, Prince Kael'thas came to my chambers one summer evening. I, of course, was well aware of his more than platonic interest in me, but his disheveled appearance and worried expression meant his visit was anything but romantic. After letting him in, and nearly getting shoved aside in the process, I asked him what was wrong. Instead of answering, he turned and locked my door before pulling a small black journal out of his robes and handing it to me. When he saw my curious expression, he said I needed to read what was in it to fully understand why he was in the state he was."

"What was in it?" Varian leaned forward and cupped his hands under his chin.

"A timeline, Varian. A timeline of mysterious deaths dating back thousands of years," Jaina explained solemnly, "Kael'thas explained that he spent nearly two decades writing to and corresponding with dozens, if not hundreds, of people from around Azeroth to gather everything in his journal. Did you know that about five hundred years ago a nameless night elf managed to befriend a red dragon and learn the secret of bestowing life? What happened next is unknown, but it is known that both the night elf and dragon, along with the two hundred or so night elves in the village, died from a surprise attack by the Black Dragonflight. According to Kael'thas, the attack was carried out by the Red Dragonflight to keep the secrets of their magic out of the hands of mortals. That's not all. Kael'thas's journal goes on and says that every dragonflight has committed massacres throughout history to preserve their secrets."

Jaina purposely forgot to tell Varian about what Kael'thas had not written down.

That evening, after making Kael'thas and herself a pot of tea to calm their nerves, she had asked him what this all meant. Kael'thas, with one hand covering his face and the other nervously holding the cup of tea, turned toward the glowing embers in the fireplace before answering. His answer, which still brought chills to Jaina even after all these years, frightened her. To Kael'thas, the fact that the dragons were so paranoid about their magic and spells getting into the hands of mortals meant they must have sinister meanings and were a way to keep the dragons in control of Azeroth's future. How, he asked her, do you combat an enemy that can go back in time and change history so that you were never born? How do you fight an army that is immune to magic and can conjure up spells based solely on their imagination. To Kael'thas, the dragons were the real enemy of Azeroth, not the trolls, humans, or orcs. The worst thing, to him, was that there was nothing he could do. If he so much as spread rumors about what he learned, he would be killed. Sure, it would be deemed an accident, but those that knew what he learned would be aware of what truly happened to him.

"That is disturbing, Jaina. To think such secrets existed right under our noses."

Jaina was quiet for a moment, "Although I may not know what Onyxia planned to do, I was able to get a feeling of the residual mana she left behind. Based on what I found, I do believe she was trying to do something intrinsically similar to a Teleport spell, but on a much grander and more complicated scale."

Varian narrowed his eyes in thought, "I have seen and been privy to such spells, Jaina. What I felt when she vanished was just…wrong. I cannot describe it with mere words, but when she vanished, something hit me and it was perhaps one of the most revolting feelings I have ever experienced."

"I may not have been as close to Onyxia as you were since I was guarding Anduin from several dragonkin," Jaina wrung her free hand nervously, "But that feeling you experienced, I felt it too. I think whatever Onyxia was trying to do, it involved some deeply dark and corrupted magic that anyone, dragons included, were not meant to wield."

"That begs the question of whether she is still alive," Varian went to scratch at his bandaged arm before consciously stopping himself, "If the spell she cast was as similar to Teleport as you say, then she could be anywhere. I will not assume she is dead until I am carting her severed head through the gates of Stormwind."

Jaina wanted to reassure Varian that Onyxia was dead and gone. The amount of strife and trouble she had put Stormwind through would require months, if not years, of carefully weeding out any spies and followers she may still possess to fix, not to mention finally disbanding the House of Nobles. The nobles, who up to this point had been given free reign by Katrana, would not take being kicked out of politics very well, but Jaina knew Varian would not put up with any nonsense. Not now, after almost losing Anduin at the hands of the daughter of Deathwing.

Speaking of Anduin, Jaina looked across the sanctum towards the young prince. She knew that, despite Anduin's brave front, he would be having nightmares about what he saw here for at least a couple of weeks, and she didn't blame him. A dragon's transformation was supposed to be natural and smooth, like flowing water. What she had seen upon arriving was just wrong. Katrana Prestor had been standing in the middle of the sanctum, that same cold smile on her face, and exchanged a few choice words with Varian before transforming into Onyxia. If Jaina hadn't been hardened by years of war and loss, she would have fled at the sight of Onyxia's transformation.

"It would be wise to assume she is still alive," Jaina admitted, "At least for the moment. Onyxia was, is, a prideful creature. As cunning and intelligent as she is, she will not live this defeat down. If she is still alive, she will show herself in one shape or another."

Varian's head bowed slightly, "She is too much like a rat. Jaina, how long will it take for you to figure out what her spell did and where it sent her? Hours? Days? Weeks?"

"Out of all dragons, the Black Dragonflight is the most mysterious, your majesty," Jaina sad down next to Varian with a contented sigh. She was exhausted after spending nearly all of her mana casting dozens of high level spells and techniques to prevent Onyxia any advantage over them. She could not count how many times she had coated the broodmother's wings in ice to prevent her from taking off, "But there is good news. After Onyxia fled Stormwind and you went with Bolvar to rally your soldiers, I rushed to Katrana's room. I thought there might have been something there, some hidden text or message, which would tell us what she planned or where she went."

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes. It was hidden in a cavity in her wall and behind some of the most intricate wards I have ever encountered. When I finally brought the last of her protections down, I reached in and found a black tome, bound in ancient leather and written in a form of draconian I have never encountered. Modern draconic, of which I have only a basic grasp of, looks like flowing runes and lines. Ancient draconic, of which exists several major variations, is more crude and rushed, like chicken scratches."

Jaina's description of the tome she discovered staggered Varian, causing him to remember something he had repressed to the back of his mind for years.

It was many years ago, back during the aftermath of the First War, when Varian was stalking the halls of the newly rebuilt Stormwind Castle in boredom. It was a sunny and warm spring afternoon, which meant that Tiffin wanted to go out and inspect the progress of the Stonemason's Guild on rebuilding the city. While a priest had just informed the couple that they were about four months into their first pregnancy, Tiffin was too headstrong to let that stop her from helping to rebuild the kingdom. It had taken much out of Varian to futilely attempt to stop his wife, but in the end he had to relent. The only condition was allowing one of his royal advisors, Katrana Prestor, to accompany her in case anything was to go wrong. Katrana had only been an advisor for a few weeks, but her skill and persuasion were already getting the House of Nobles interested in how far she would go. There was even talk of having Varian take her on as a consort.

It was during his walk that Varian happened to pass Katrana's room, which led him to pause in mid-stride. He had visited almost the entire castle as soon as it was rebuilt, but Katrana had always been notoriously secretive about her room. Without her around though, Varian could go and see just what it was that she was trying to hide. Perhaps it was something as innocent as just wanting her privacy.

As he pushed open the solid oak door, built to keep the cold out in the winter, Varian pushed through the stuffiness that seemed to almost blast outwards and walked into the room. The first thing he noticed was that it was very dark. Although the fireplace was roaring across the room, which was odd because it was a warm spring day, the light from the flames seemed to do no more than bathe the darkened room in an eerie orange and dark red glow. Unable to see anything, he had walked across her room to open the curtains to the window, consciously aware of just how stuffy Katrana's room was. Perhaps when he left, he would have the Stonemasons come and fix the problem.

When the curtains were pulled open, exposing the room to the noon sun, Varian's eyes happened upon a loose stone in the wall. At first he felt irritation, assuming that the builders had cut corners when building the castle, but as he examined it, he realized the stone had been removed after being placed. Tracing a finger across the cut seam, it appeared that a rather sharp object had cut through the concrete and mortar. Wiggling the stone loose, he pulled it out and that was when his eyes noticed a small black book laying within the newly opened space.

At the time, it had seemed odd to him that the book was hidden away. Pulling the book out of the wall, Varian began leafing through the pages, hoping to come across something that would have explained Katrana hiding it away. Perhaps it was simply a diary, containing secrets and emotions she would never express openly to anyone. As he stared at the writing on the pages, Varian's brow had creased as he realized he could not read nor understand anything. Instead of letters and numbers there were scratch marks and symbols that only vaguely looked like ancient runes he had learnt about many years ago.

While trying to make sense of what was written, Varian had begun to feel very ill at ease. The shadows in the room seemed to grow longer and the sunlight that streamed through the open windows seemed dull and gray. Suddenly feeling nauseous, Varian had put the book back behind the stone and quickly left the room, one hand over his mouth to keep himself from throwing up. As he staggered out of Katrana's room and closed the door behind him, the nausea that had been welling up within him quickly abated.

"Varian…Varian!"

Varian shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, "What?"

"You were staring off into the distance," Jaina said worriedly, "What happened?"

His eyes narrowed, "I just remembered something, and I think it involves that book you found. You said you were able to read some of the language, ancient draconic, if I remember correctly. Were you able to decipher anything at all?"

"That depends, your majesty," Jaina leaned forward and placed her forehead against her battlestaff, "I could, of course, decipher the text given a few days, but that would not be wise. If we are to believe Kael'thas's story, then reading the knowledge contained within Onyxia's black tome would be most unhealthy."

"So there is nothing we can do?" Varian sneered and turned his head away, "Even when the information we need is literally in our hands, we cannot do anything with it!"

Jaina was quiet for a moment before speaking, "Not necessarily. I know someone that might be able to help us."

When Varian didn't say anything, Jaina took that as an incentive to continue, "He is rather hard to get in touch with, but if anyone can figure out what is written in the tome, it is him. Although, I am sorry to say, the only surefire method of determining what spell Onyxia used would be to ask a black dragon itself. There are subtle differences and nuances between the flights. One word might have five different meanings or usages."

"Do you think a black dragon is just going to offer their help?" Varian snapped at her before calming down and turning away, "Forgive me, Jaina. This has been a rather trying day for us all. I shouldn't need to take my anger and regrets out on you."

"There is no need for you to apologize. While our best bet would be to have a black dragon tell us, my colleague should be nearly as good."

"How can you be sure?"

Upon Varian's confused look, Jaina explained, "Perhaps I should start from the beginning. About half a year ago a stranger arrived in Theramore. While that wouldn't normally warrant suspicion, it was his behavior that made my soldiers take notice of him. This man would stop and ask questions that any child would know the answer to while, at the same time, explain in great detail the inner workings of many spells and abilities used by mages, warlocks and priests. It was only after I had the man brought to my tower, under heavy guard, that I realized who he was. The man called himself Kalecgos, a blue dragon, and he was interested in exchanging and sharing knowledge."

When Jaina stopped speaking, Varian urged her to continue, "What happened?"

"Nothing," she said much to his disappointment, "Kalecgos and I exchanged several advanced theories in arcane spell-casting before he decided to take his leave. Before he left, he said that he found our conversation so enlightening that he would return every few months…or when I pulsed my mana through what he called a hearthstone. The hearthstone is a fascinating device, Varian, upon creation it allows the caster to return to the location they initially set the hearthstone at. The implications of this are enormous…"

"Please stay focused upon the matter at hand," Varian knew, more from personal experience than rumor, that Jaina had a penchant for knowledge and would continue talking, "While I can trust Bolvar to run Stormwind in my stead for a couple of weeks, or at least until I get my facilities in order, we have more pressing matters to attend to. If Onyxia is still alive, than she is a threat to Stormwind and everything it stands for. We need to know what that spell was as quickly as possible. How long do we need to wait until your…hearthstone…can summon this dragon?"

"Kalecgos instructed me to pulse my mana through the hearthstone when I wanted to meet with him. It is not instantaneous, I'm afraid, and should take him between twenty and thirty minutes to arrive."

"Half an hour of waiting will be worth it if this dragon, Kalacgos, can help us," Varian seemed puzzled by something, "But are you sure he will be able to help? Wouldn't our possession of Onyxia's black tome warrant punishment?"

"I don't think so," Jaina pondered the question for nearly a minute before answering, "First of all, we haven't actually learned what is in the tome. So if the dragonflights decide we are not to know what lies within its pages, there will be no repercussions. Secondly, Kalecgos is rather human for a blue dragon. I am sure that if the tome contains knowledge we are not meant to know, he will either give us the bare bones of the spells or simply say he cannot tell us."

With a contented sigh, Jaina stood back up and turned to the king, "But I am sure he will tell us everything we need to know. Varian, you must understand that the black dragonflight hasn't many friends. After centuries of kidnapping, torturing and murdering every other dragon they could find, the black dragonflight has lost all support from the other flights. If we were to translate the tome and learn its secrets, the only dragons that might come after us would be the blacks, and they are nearly extinct as it is. Kalecgos might help us simply to spite the black dragonflight."

Jaina's logic made sense to Varian, as it usually did. It was like the old saying about fighting fire with fire. If he wanted to put an end to the threat of Onyxia against Stormwind, he would need the assistance of another dragon.

"I think it would be wise to wait until we returned to Theramore to summon Kalecgos. Dragon or not, my men are still a little on edge after the battle. They may accidentally attack your colleague," Varian suggested, "But for the moment, let us pray to the Light that Onyxia is truly dead."

...

Time passed slowly for Ichigo, but he attributed that to whom he was forced to travel with. He realized that the girl, despite her many, many, annoying flaws, wasn't nearly as bad to be with as he initially thought. All he had to do was ignore the fact that she seemed to despise him with every fiber of her being, would give him looks filled with such hatred that he was starting to wonder if he'd killed someone close to her and forgotten about it, and kept trying to kill him whenever she thought his back was turned.

He supposed he should be grateful for the small things in life.

Hands tucked behind the nape of his neck, an annoyed scowl on his face, Ichigo's attention was pulled away from what was in front of him by the excessively loud cawing of a bird. Sitting on the battlements lining the side of the bridge was a crow that, Ichigo thought he was imagining it, was staring directly at him. Ichigo's eyes locked with the crow's for several seconds before the bird cawed once more and took off from its perch. Staring at where the crow had taken off from, Ichigo let out an exaggerated sigh.

"This really sucks. I know Medivh said the demons would kill everyone, but Rukia said the Soul Society is full of really strong shinigami. If they were as strong as she claimed, I doubt the Burning Legion could have beaten them. If that asshole lied to me about everyone on Earth being killed, I will hunt him down and kill him for what he put me through."

Ichigo might have been more than a little annoyed at Medivh, but when an annoyed growl and a faint curse reached his ears, Ichigo considered turning around and walking all the way back to Southshore. Sure that might be a little extreme, but he would rather have traveled on a ship and dealt with pirates than put up with his new companion's antics for one more minute.

Her attempts at trying to kill him were starting to get old and annoying. Whenever he found himself distracted by something, like that red dragon that flew passed them to the south, he would be brought back to reality by a quietly uttered curse from his companion's mouth, some of which he hadn't even heard of before. When he would turn his attention back to her, he would find her hand pointed at him with faint black wisps fading away from between her fingers. The girl would scowl as he glared at her before turning away, a frustrated expression on her face from her spell failing to work once again.

"You know how annoying that is?" Ichigo asked her in a frustrated tone. Blatantly ignoring the pointed glare he received in return, he continued, "Why do you keep trying to use those creepy flames of yours when it doesn't work? And how are you even able to walk? Not even ten minutes ago you were walking with a limp but now you seem perfectly fine."

"Hold your tongue before I remove it from your mouth," she threatened, giving Ichigo another glare. Reaching to her stomach and pulling apart her bandages, much to Ichigo's embarrassment, she said, "Since you happen to be so curious, I healed from such minor wounds a while ago. If you weren't gazing off into the distance like some idiot, you would have noticed that already."

That didn't make any sense to Ichigo. No one could heal from second-degree burns in less then half an hour. Something wasn't adding up, "Hang on just one second. How the hell did you heal from your injuries? That should be impossible."

The girl looked at him as if he had grown a second head, "You really are an idiot, aren't you? If you hadn't spent your entire life living under a rock, you would have heard of something called magic."

Ichigo forced himself to ignore her mocking and scathing tone. It wasn't his fault that he's only known of magic for less than a week. Still, something bothered him. How had she known to use magic when she didn't remember anything? Was it instinctual, like some kind of regeneration, or was it an innate talent, like those black flames of hers?

"Just give it a rest already with the insults," Ichigo hadn't known anyone so insulting in his life. While some of those he knew, like Keigo, were annoying, no one made him want to bash his head against a wall like this girl. It was almost as if she didn't know how to speak to another person, "I don't care about you in any way. At this point, I'm just ignoring you whenever you open your mouth. If I didn't need to go this way, I would have left you a long time ago. The second we reach the next town, castle, floating city or wherever the hell we end up, I'm turning around and never looking back."

A foreign emotion passed across the girl's face, but it appeared and disappeared so quickly that Ichigo barely noticed it. Casting one last look at him, the girl turned her gaze away from him and stared at her hand. Without saying a word, familiar black flames crackled and roared into existence inches over her empty palm, tongues of fire licking and interweaving between her fingers before gently disappearing into the surrounding air. She stared at the flames, the eerie light being emitted by them only helping to highlight the contrast between her pale skin and gold eyes, for nearly a minute before sneering and, with an overly aggressive clenching of her fist, squeezed the flames out of existence.

She couldn't understand why her magic wasn't working. It was infuriating that any time she even thought about killing Ichigo, her magic would cease to follow her will. It didn't make any sense. She was positive he had done something to her that prevented her magic from functioning properly. If she could just remember who she was, she might have been able to threaten or trick him into admitting what it was he did. Was his stupidity all a front? Had he managed to somehow seal her powers when he found her unconscious? She needed answers.

Her gold eyes stared daggers at Ichigo's brown ones, "How did you seal my powers?"

"That's another thing. Why do you keep thinking I had anything to do with why your creepy flames aren't working?" Ichigo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, " If anything else happened to you, it has nothing to do with me."

"Don't tell me you are blind as well as stupid," the girl seethed and pointed an accusing finger at him, "The simple fact that I cannot kill you despite how much I want to is testament enough that you have done something to me."

As if to emphasize her point the girl summoned her Shadow Flames in her hand once more, but when she pointed her hand at Ichigo and tried to propel them through the air, the black flames abruptly vanished just as quickly as they appeared.

Ichigo looked at the girl unconcerned, "I didn't do anything to you and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you anything."

She wanted to make Ichigo tell her what he did, force it out of him using any means necessary. As she was about to warn and threaten him to do just that, an idea hit her. Ichigo was quite strong; there was no doubt about that. She wasn't sure why his dodging and survival of her black flames was so significant, but a part of her mind was warning her that keeping a close eye on him would be beneficial to her in the long run.

"Very well," she appeared to concede, "But if I find any evidence that you are the one that did this to me, your death will be the stuff of legends."

For a moment there was silence, but eventually Ichigo was the first to relent. With a heavy sigh, he asked, "Do you even know where you're going?"

"That's an idiotic question. You already asked me that and yet surprisingly, not even an hour later, my answer still remembers the same - no," the girl halfheartedly mocked, "All I know is that I need to be somewhere and you are going to help me get there."

That wasn't exactly helpful to Ichigo. He had basically been roped into helping someone with no memories try to find something she forgot about. If his luck happened to be as bad as it usually was, she would walk right by wherever she needed to go and not realize it. Ichigo was not about to be dragged across Azeroth on a wild goose chase, "How do you know this place is where you need to go? For all you know, it could be where you first lost your memories."

"You think I haven't considered that already?" she asked with a hint of annoyance, "Do you think that if I even thought it might be connected with my lack of memory, I would go to it without a second thought? Don't be absurd. I don't know why I'm putting up with you accompanying me if you're this dense and stupid."

Ichigo rubbed his temple in order to stave off the headache that was surely coming, "I find it hard to believe that you have absolutely no memory of anything. I've met a few people with amnesia, but they always managed to remember at least a few things from their past."

"Perhaps it has something to do with how you discovered my unconscious body," the girl offered with a shrug, much to Ichigo's shock. It wasn't so much that her answer was logically sound as it was the fact that she had given useful advice without an annoyed or irritated tone to her voice, "But does it really matter? While I no longer possess my memories, I am quite sure that the place I need to go has the capacity to restore them."

"This place of yours, " Ichigo thought over his words carefully, "How do you know it's this way? For all you know, it could be in the completely opposite direction."

"I would not worry about such trivialities."

The girl looked at him and Ichigo was immediately put on guard by the disturbingly cold smile that adorned her face. Before he could mutter a single word, he was forced to duck as a fireball went whizzing over his head.

"What the hell was that for?" he shouted and began patting down his hair to make sure it wasn't on fire.

"Well, what do you know?" the girl quipped and looked at her hand with new-found respect before watching Ichigo pat down his hair in amusement, "As long as I don't trying aiming directly at you and not want to kill you, my magic responds to my will as it should. This has possibilities."

"You're fucking crazy, you know that?" Ichigo growled. He might not be sure how she was able to do that but he damn well wasn't going let her catch him off guard a second time, "What is wrong with you?"

"My, you have quite the mouth," the girl pointed out amused.

Ichigo suppressed the curse that was on the tip of his tongue. He was the better person here. He could deal with her for the time being, "As much as the thought of travelling with you makes me gag, trying to talk to you without knowing your name is really annoying."

"I told you I don't remember my name."

"Then make one up," he groaned.

"You want me to make up a name?" the girl looked as if Ichigo had just greatly insulted her, "Coming up with a name that suits one such as myself is not an easy task. If I were to pick one and find it unsuitable or otherwise, it would be a grave insult. You may have a point though. Not having a name is many times more dishonorable than having one."

As she stood there, thoughts and images racing through her mind that disappeared from her memory just as quickly as she tried to hold on to them, a single word continued to come to the forefront of her consciousness. The word, which had no meaning to her and seemed utterly useless, even more so than the man she was traveling with, kept returning no matter how much she tried ignoring it.

"…Onyx."

"Huh?" Ichigo had barely managed to pick up the word, but the way the girl kept repeating it made it look and sound very important. By the slight twitching of her face, Ichigo concluded that perhaps it wasn't something he was supposed to hear.

"It has no meaning," the girl scoffed and turned away from Ichigo while adjusting her robes, "It's just a word that momentarily interested me."

She paused for a moment as the crow that had flown off earlier returned and landed on top of the battlements lining the span. The bird absentmindedly pecked at one of its wings before turning one beady eye to her and cawing. The girl stared back at the bird with a scowl and, with a nearly callous flick of her wrist, fired a small ball of Shadow Flames at it. Much to her annoyance though, the crow managed to take off just moments before the black flames incinerated it. Cawing once more at her, the crow circled overhead a couple of times before flying off.

"A name…" she trailed off, her eyes continuing to follow the crow until it disappeared into the horizon. If she ever saw that bird again, she would make sure it wouldn't escape her wrath, "I do need a name, but if you think for a moment I will allow you to have the honors, you're delusional."

"For the love of…just pick a name already."

Ignoring Ichigo's blatant disrespect, as she could always deal with that later, the girl brought a hand up to her chin and looked away from Ichigo. Her golden eyes were narrowed as she thought about what name would suit her. There weren't many options available to her due to her lack of memory, but several words like Onyx kept coming to the forefront of her mind. Eventually, after nearly a minute had passed, a half-smirk formed on her face.

"I've decided on a name that befits someone such as myself. Henceforth, you shall address me as Andradia."

"Andradia?" The name was quite an odd name, although it wasn't the weirdest one he's heard since arriving on Azeroth. In fact, it may actually be one of the more normal sounding names. It didn't compare to anything like Marcus or Marco, but it was better than Zulrea or Aewendir. Ichigo wasn't sure he could even spell the latter two without help.

Andradia's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Are you mocking me?"

"No," he answered neutrally and walked past her.

Purposefully ignoring the pointed glare he was received, Ichigo caught the faint scent of slightly rotting vegetation in the air and realized that they must have entered the Wetlands. While he was somewhat glad he was in the right area, he was also kind of confused. Up to that point the road had been well kept, for the most part, and was easy to follow. Now though, the road transformed into something resembling a hiking path. It was barely five feet across and had grass and other plants and weeds shooting up at random places. Even with the help of the map Marcus gave him, Ichigo wasn't sure he would be able to prevent himself from getting lost.

While Ichigo was focused on not getting lost, Andradia was facing a slightly different problem.

Walking a few feet behind Ichigo, her pace purposely kept slower, a small frown adorned her face as various thoughts and ideas tugged at her mind.

She still couldn't explain why Ichigo's survival of her black flames was so important. For all she knew, her flames were just extremely hot and dangerous flames that any mage could conjure. The black coloration of them just indicated how strong she was. She tried to remember something, anything, about why her flames were this powerful or why she expected something to happen to Ichigo besides him burning to death, but all she received in exchange for her efforts was a sudden and painful headache.

She tried to place what was wrong, but all she could understand was that Ichigo should have died a horrible death from her black flames. The fact that he hadn't, and was very much alive and well, meant something strange had happened. She was beginning to assume that Ichigo had more to do with her current state than he was letting on. She was sure of it. The only question was how to convince him to undo whatever he had done to her without the help of her memories.

"Galakrond be damned. This is troublesome," she muttered, irritated at her lack of memory, before her eyes widened ever so slightly. She had no idea why she had just said that. She didn't even know who Galakrond was supposed to be or why she had mentioned it.

A familiar cawing came from overhead, causing Andradia's eye to involuntarily twitch. She didn't need to look upwards to know that the damned crow was back, and most likely circling overhead. At that moment she made a note to herself. She would kill that bird even if it were the last thing she ever did.