Jaina's Probe

Deep within a cave in the Burning Plains, lava flowed slowly through the ravines, steaming the scent of sulfur into every inch of the air. Nefarian stood before an experiment table, Shadow Energy swirling around his fingertips as he precisely carved a piece of Black Dragon Scale before grafting it onto the remains of a Red Dragon.

"Hang in there, baby..." he murmured, a fanatical gleam flickering in his dragon eyes. "This time, it will work."

The test subject's muscle tissue twitched under the shadowy stimulation, black-red bloody foam seeping from the gaps in its scales. Nefarian casually wiped the blood splashed across his cheek away, then activated the Arcane Containment Array on the other side.

At that moment, a Half-Dragon Servant approached tremblingly, holding a Shadow Crystal in both hands.

"Master, a message from Blackwing Lair..."

Nefarian did not even raise his head. "Read it."

"Lord Deathwing orders you to confirm Princess Onyxia's movements. It is said that she has been engaging in some unusual activities lately."

Nefarian's fingers paused slightly before he let out a cold laugh. "Unusual? When has my sister ever been 'normal'?" He crushed the crystal in his hand, and the Shadow Energy vanished in his palm. "Tell Father that I'll be 'keeping an eye' on her."

The Half-Dragon Servant bowed and withdrew, while Nefarian's gaze returned to the test subject.

"Father? Sister? I'll deal with that when I have time!" he scoffed, suddenly driving his fingers into the subject's spine. "Let's see what sort of trick you're playing, dear sister..."

The morning mist over the Swamp of Sorrows had yet to disperse when Deren was already standing in the newly built warehouse district, clutching a crumpled supply list in his hand, his brows twisted into a knot.

"The third batch of sulfur isn't pure enough..." He bit the end of his quill and drew a cross in the ledger. "Those goblins are watering it down again."

The soft rustle of scales scraping over sand came from behind him. Onyxia had appeared at his back without him noticing, resting her chin on his shoulder as her scorching breath brushed his ear. "Want me to burn their cargo ships?"

"No. Business is about the long game." Deren turned his head, his lips accidentally brushing against one of her dragon horns. "The Reactor in Ironforge should be finished by now, but transporting it will be a problem."

Onyxia's tail suddenly coiled around his waist. "So?"

"So—" Deren turned around and cradled her face in both hands. "I want to ask Jaina to use Mass Teleportation to send it directly here."

The Black Dragon Princess's pupils instantly narrowed into slits.

The air froze for three seconds.

"You want to leave me alone and go off with that human princess?" Her voice dropped into a dangerous growl, her claws digging into the belt at Deren's waist.

"I'm just teleporting a piece of equipment—"

"She's a princess with an entire city!" Onyxia suddenly raised her voice, shaking roof tiles loose in a rattling shower. "Fountains! Gardens! Damn bakeries!"

The shaking made Deren dizzy, and he blurted out, "And you only have a stinking dragon nest!"

Time seemed to stop.

The Dragonborn workers all dropped flat to the ground.

Every scale on Onyxia's body stood on end, Black Flame racing from her fingertips to the ends of her hair. Her dragon eyes blazed with molten light, and the low rumble rolling from her throat made Deren's bones tremble.

"What I mean is—" Deren suddenly stepped forward and pressed his forehead to hers. "That's exactly why you only have me."

The Black Flame went out at once.

Onyxia's claws were still gripping his collar, but her hold loosened slightly. Her lashes fluttered rapidly, as though she was not used to the suddenly shortened distance.

"...Come back quickly." In the end, she released him and turned her face away. "Otherwise, I'll go to Ironforge to 'pick you up'—and curl every dwarf's beard while I'm at it."

Smiling, Deren reached to his waist and pulled out a pendant polished from a Black Dragon Scale. "Will you hold onto this for me? I heard dwarves charge extra tariffs on dragon-made goods."

Onyxia stared at the little object in her palm—the scale had been carefully polished into the shape of a heart, with Mithril threads set along its edges. The tip of her tail suddenly perked up happily.

"Get lost." She tucked the pendant into the innermost layer of her scales. "And remember to bring back Dwarven Mead."

The Furnace District of Ironforge sweltered with rolling heat as Deren followed Jaina through rows upon rows of steaming brass pipes. Dwarven shouts, hammer blows, and boiling lava blended into a deafening roar that made his eardrums throb.

"The Reactor is up ahead." Jaina's voice cut through the noise. "Prince Copperbeard personally supervised the final assembly."

Deren wiped the sweat from his forehead, but his gaze was drawn to a tapestry on the wall. It depicted dwarves, humans, and elves drinking together, with a small line embroidered in one corner: "May the ale never cease to flow."

"First time in Ironforge?" Jaina noticed where he was looking.

"I came here before to discuss trade, but this is my first time seeing the Furnace District in person." Deren smiled. "Before, I'd only heard about it in games... uh, in stories."

Jaina tapped the ground lightly with her staff, and a soundproof barrier silently spread out. The surrounding clamor immediately faded away.

"Now you can tell me." She turned around, her blue eyes fixing on Deren as her tone suddenly sharpened. "How did a Westfall refugee who was nearly starved to death get involved with the Black Dragon Princess?"

Deren was inspecting the Reactor's bolts, and the wrench nearly slipped from his hand at her words. "Uh... good luck?"

Jaina narrowed her eyes. "I looked into your background. Deren Losen, a Westfall farmer. After the nobles confiscated your land, you wandered Westfall for years and nearly starved to death at Sentinel Hill. Yet a few months ago, you appeared in Treasure Bay with the Black Dragon Princess at your side and enough gold in your pockets to buy half a street."

Deren's Adam's apple bobbed. "Trade secret?"

"And then there was a month ago," Jaina continued. "You had the Black Dragon Princess obediently play along during negotiations with the Goblin Prince, and you even had her act as your bodyguard." She suddenly stepped closer. "So what was it? Black magic? A Soul Contract? Or..." A gleam of gossip flashed through her eyes. "Is your relationship more than a business partnership?"

In the distance, Prince Copperbeard was directing dwarves to pour ale into the Reactor to test its seals—dwarven-style quality inspection. Cheerful dwarven songs drifted faintly through the barrier, forming a sharp contrast with the tense atmosphere here.

Deren fell silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "You investigated me this thoroughly. Don't tell me you're interested in me?"

Jaina's brows rose dangerously. "I'm considering whether I should teleport you into lava."

"Okay, okay." Deren raised his hands in surrender. "It's actually very simple—I made her an offer she couldn't refuse."

"What kind of offer could move a Black Dragon?"

"A chance to make a fortune. Tell me, what could make a dragon happier than gold?" Deren lowered his voice. "Bathing in piles of gold every day—she'd probably laugh in her sleep."

A frost rose condensed at Jaina's fingertips as she pondered aloud. "So you moved her with your ideals?"

"No." Deren flashed a grin. "With a fertilizer formula."

"...What?"

"She was bored at the time, but she didn't have much gold to play with." Deren shrugged. "I told her that instead of rotting away in a swamp, she might as well join me in farming, making fertilizer, and earning big money. So we became partners."

Jaina's expression froze. She had imagined all sorts of dark pacts, forbidden magic, even romantic entanglements, but she had never expected the truth to be so... practical.

Outside the barrier, Prince Copperbeard's booming voice suddenly cut through. "Human! Come sign for it! Your 'Big Barrel' passed inspection!"

Jaina removed the soundproofing spell, and the clamor instantly returned. As they walked toward the receiving desk, she suddenly said in a low voice, "You know, I'm actually a little disappointed."

"Disappointed?"

"I thought I'd hear a more exciting story." A rare trace of humanized annoyance appeared on Jaina's face. "Like a dark ritual, or some forbidden romance."

Deren blinked. "Want me to make one up now?"

"No need." Blue light from a Teleportation Spell gleamed on Jaina's staff. "But if Onyxia ever burns your ass, remember to let me know so I can watch."

Deren: "..."

That night, Jaina wrote in her diary: "Investigation results: 1. No traces of dark magic. 2. No Soul Contract. 3. Flirtatious behavior suspected. Conclusion: more boring than imagined, but more interesting than politics."

A clearing one hundred yards across had been cleared in the receiving area of the Swamp of Sorrows. The Dragonborn used Magic Powder to trace a complex Hexagram Array on the ground. Onyxia stood in the center of the array, her tail impatiently lashing the earth, each strike kicking up a ring of dark-red sparks.

"Later than scheduled," she growled at the air, her claws digging deeply into the rock wall and leaving five molten claw marks in the stone.

Suddenly, the Magic Powder along the edge of the array ignited without wind, pale blue flames racing along the paths of the runes. A crisp crackling sound like shattering crystal rang through the air, and space seemed to be torn open by an invisible hand. First came a thread-thin ray of blue light, then it expanded into a massive oval Portal, Arcane Lightning dancing around its edges.

The scene within the Portal twisted and shifted like a kaleidoscope: the firelight of Ironforge's Furnace District, the snow-covered peaks of Dun Morogh, the shadows of circling gryphons—all of it rearranged itself at astonishing speed. Jaina's staff pierced out of the void first, the Azeroth Diamond at its tip erupting with light as brilliant as the blazing sun and illuminating the hundred-yard area as though it were day.

Blue Arcane Ribbons formed from Arcane Energy wrapped around the Reactor like silk. The metal behemoth, weighing hundreds of tons, broke down into countless streams of glowing light, then reassembled during teleportation. Every rivet and every weld was encased in a honeycomb-like matrix of magic, while tens of thousands of Titan Runes flowed across its surface—the highest-grade spatial stabilization spell in Dalaran.

Bang!

The ground trembled faintly as the Reactor landed precisely in the center of the array. The instant it touched down, the Arcane Ribbons encircling it burst like fireworks, transforming into countless blue butterflies that scattered through the air. These magical creations traced elegant arcs through the sky before finally fading into the dusk.

Deren tumbled out of the Portal right after it, still covered in several undispersed Arcane crystals. He flailed through three midair rolls before Onyxia's tail steadily caught him. The blue crystals hissed like frying steak when they touched the Black Dragon Scales.

"Completely intact!" Deren struggled upright and excitedly patted the Reactor's casing. An unusual blue glow shimmered over the metal surface, and the dwarven craftsmen's signature glittered in the lingering Arcane radiance: "A proud product of the Copperbeard Family, certified Dragonbreath Resistant."

Jaina's figure emerged gracefully from the Portal last. Her golden hair danced like a living thing in the magical turbulence, every strand dotted with fine starlight. The magical runes along the hem of her robes had not yet fully faded, stamping luminous footprints into the mud with every step. Behind her, the Portal collapsed into a miniature black hole. After swallowing every last trace of Arcane Energy, it vanished with a soft pop.

"Remember to settle the shipping fee." She landed lightly and tapped the ground with her staff, dispelling the Teleport Anchor. The moment the staff tip touched the earth, a ring of blue magical ripples spread outward. Wherever it passed, reeds bent by the Teleportation Spell straightened again. "Theramore Harbor always welcomes 'legal' trade."

Onyxia suddenly stepped forward and tossed a huge money pouch toward Jaina, sending it in a magnificent arc beneath the setting sun.

"Give me a discount on the next teleportation fee." The Black Dragon Princess lifted her chin. "Use my personal seal."

The instant Jaina caught the pouch, a faint Arcane spark crackled between her fingers. She suddenly revealed a rare, genuine smile, fine lines appearing at the corners of her eyes. "Looks like I should start a logistics company." Her staff began to glow with the blue light of her return journey, softer this time, like tides under moonlight. "I suggest you stay away from the Reactor for the next three days—"

Before she could finish, the Reactor's exhaust valve suddenly let out a pffft, spraying a stream of malt-scented steam that condensed in the air into the shape of a small dwarf's beard.

Onyxia stared at the spot where Jaina had vanished, her dragon ears twitching slightly. "Did she just make a joke?"

As the sun set, the Reactor's shadow enveloped the bickering human and dragon.

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