Anduin shivered, his own lips curving in a smile. Magni had been right! He could hear the earth itself—themselves? It was so confusing!—speaking to him.
"Can ye understand them?" asked Belgrum excitedly. "What are they saying?"
Magni suddenly threw his head back, arching. He seemed to try to stagger backward, but his feet were held as if rooted in place. No, not rooted… Anduin realized his black boots were turning almost translucent, as if they were suddenly made of glass—as if his feet themselves were suddenly made of glass—
—or crystal… or diamond…
One with the mountain…
No, oh, no, it couldn't be -
Suddenly Magni's foot quivered and a bulge of clear stone formed atop it. Like a living ooze of rock, it began moving upward, along his legs, his torso. It spiked here and there with a sudden groaning sound, forming long crystal spears, as if Magni Bronzebeard was a crystal forming crystals of his own. Magni opened his mouth in a long, wordless cry and lifted his arms high over his head. Diamond ooze scurried to wrap around his hands, shooting out to encircle his body. Magni screamed, a gut - wrenching cry of pure horror. But the merciless clear liquid stone poured into his mouth, silencing him in midscream, hardening so quickly he didn't even have time to close his eyes.
Everyone had been staring, open - mouthed, but now was galvanized into action by the sound, echoing in the diamond cavern, bone - chilling, like no cry of pain or horror they had ever heard.
Rohan began to cast healing spells. Magellas and Belgrum moved forward, seizing Magni's arms, trying foolishly to somehow pull him away from where he stood. But it had all happened too fast, and now it was too late. The echoes of his single shout died away. Magni looked like he had been both turned to stone and encased in it, his head thrown back, his arms spread, the tendons in his neck standing out in pain. And over him, like some bizarre costume, were ragged, gleaming chunks of jagged crystal.
Anduin broke the shocked silence. "Is he… can you…"
Rohan stepped close to Magni, placing a hand on his king's arm and closing his eyes. A single tear leaked beneath the closed lids as he stepped away, shaking his head.
Anduin stared. Disbelief rushed through him, the same disbelief he had experienced after the land trembled and buried Aerin beneath the crushing weight of tons of rock. But… this wasn't possible!
He dragged his gaze to Magellas, who stared as aghast as he.
"I was certain," he murmured, "that it was not literal… we checked every source…."
'You mean—it worked? This is what the ritual was supposed to do?" Anduin cried, his voice treble with his shock and horror.
"Not literally," Magellas said, looking like a panicked hare. "But we—we d - did perform it precisely correctly…."
Unable to help himself, Anduin sprang forward. With a cry, he took the hilt of his ceremonial dagger, and before anyone could stop him, had struck the figure on the shoulder. The hilt shattered beneath the impact, part of it whirling erratically away. The impact jarred his hand, and he dropped the part of the hilt he still held. Clutching his stinging hand, he stared.
There was not a single mark on the image. Magni had been turned into one of the hardest known materials in the world.
As Anduin stared at the diamond lump that had once been a vibrant, hale dwarf, some of the words of the ritual floated back to him. For behold, we are earthen, of the land… For who would not wish to return home?… And so it shall be that you shall become as you once were. You shall return home, and you shall become one with the mountain.
The dwarves were descendents of the titans. Magni had become what he had once been—and paid for it with his life. "He's gone home," Anduin whispered past a throat tight with grief. Tears welled in his eyes and blurred
the image of Magni Bronzebeard. As the torchlight glinted off the statue, Anduin saw only beautiful, fractured lights dancing before his gaze.
He blinked hard, gulping, tears trickling down his face for the kindly dwarf who had only wanted to do what was best for his people, who had wanted to talk to a wounded world in order to help it heal. And for that goal, he had been lost to them.
What were the dwarves going to do now?
Sixteen
Anduin didn't realize how much comfort the constant ringing of the forge had provided until it was silenced.
He hadn't thought of Ironforge as a lively, bustling city, not the way Stormwind was. And yet when the sound of the forge ceased, and the halls no longer echoed with the distinctive sound of dwarven laughter, he realized that the city once did have a cheerfulness to it. Now, even though more people than ever were in Ironforge coming to pay their respects to Magni Bronzebeard, it was somber and bleak.
Within the hour of the disaster, the question of succession had become pressing. Gryphons were sent out immediately in search of Brann and Muradin, Magni's brothers. Thus far, they had met with no success.
Anduin had wanted to go home, but instead his father had come to him. All the leaders of the Alliance had either come in person to honor Magni's memory or else had sent representatives. The young prince had always wanted to meet High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind, who for so long had led the night elves and been forced to be apart from her great love, Archdruid Malfurion Stormrage. And Anduin had been curious about Far Seer Nobundo, the Broken who had been touched by the elements and brought shamanism to his people. Velen, leader of the draenei, had sent Nobundo to honor the reason Magni had fallen—trying to heal the earth, to understand the elements.
So it was that Anduin stood beside Jaina and his father, a few paces away from the night elf high priestess and Malfurion, the archdruid of legend, and the first shaman the Alliance had known. Under any other circumstances he would have been delighted. Now, though, as they stood solemnly gazing at the diamond figure that had once been Magni Bronzebeard, he bitterly wished that he had never met the distinguished personages, if the privilege had been bought at so high a cost.
Even the goblins, too, had sent representatives, and so had the Horde. It was a deep show of respect from Thrall and the Horde in general, and although many eyes looked upon the blood elf and the tauren unfavorably, Anduin found nothing in their behavior to warrant hostility.
Advisor Belgrum had stepped up to fill the void until such time as Muradin or Brann could be found and brought to Ironforge. He was selected for the duty because he had no political agenda other than finding—and serving—a new king, knew Ironforge and its people inside and out, and because his loyalty to the dwarven people themselves was beyond question. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable with the honor, but also knew that someone had to take the reins of power until the rightful leader could be contacted.
Now he stepped forward and looked at the representatives in turn. "Yer presence here is a great honor," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Would that we were celebrating a happy occasion. Magni was no' just a great dwarf—plenty o' leaders have been great. Magni… was good. And that's much harder tae find. He would have been so pleased tae see all o' ye… aye, even ye, too," he said to the Horde emissaries, "for ye've come wi' good hearts an' plenty o' respect." The blood elf seemed to be debating whether or not to be offended, but the tauren nodded solemnly.
"High Priestess Tyrande… yer faith and patience were well known tae Magni, and he spoke with great respect o' yer people. Archdruid Malfurion—ye've done so much tae help our world. Magni would have been right pleased to ken ye had come."
His eyes fell on the humans. "Lady Jaina… sometimes he dinna ken what tae make o' ye, but he was always fond o' ye. King Varian, ye were as a brother tae him. And Anduin… ah, lad, ye've no idea how dearye were tae Magni."