You remembered

[moonshadows]

The night elf woman skipped happily along the streets of Darnassus, head turning this way and that as she tried to look everywhere at once, blue braid bobbing jauntily with each step. The silvery-blue dress she wore did not attract much attention from the other night elves despite being thousands of years out of fashion, nor did the tune she hummed as she made her way towards the Cenarian Enclave.

Motion in the sky caught her eye, and she paused to watch a stormcrow circle up from the Archdruid’s tree-office and catch an airstream headed towards Moonglade. A sly smile spread across her face, and she darted for the cover of some lesser trees.

The woman might not have attracted any attention, but the sinuous shape of a blue dragon streaking towards the sun certainly did.

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Malfurion Stormrage was used to hearing his name whispered on the wind. Usually, however, there were trees nearby to do the whispering. In the barren expanse between Teldrassil and the northern edge of Kalimdor, this phenomenon was a bit more disconcerting. He did his best to look in every direction, the keen eyes of his stormcrow shape alert for any motion, but he could not see who had called him.

“Fuuuuuuuuuriooooooooonnnn…”

There it was again! Someone was calling him, and in a voice that almost sounded familiar.  The way his name had been shortened and separated into a sing-song that fell just short of being a taunt…

Suddenly, he veered straight up, wings pumping as he fought for as much height as he could get, as fast as he could get it. He felt the air currents shift, then shift again, and the air gained a bite he hadn’t tasted in a long time. Figuring he had enough empty air below him to manage the change back if he guessed wrong, the archdruid reverted to night elf form and looked around as inertia continued to carry him up.

For an instant he hung there, suspended in the sky, alone at the top of his arc.

As gravity began to reclaim him, the air rippled and shimmered and a familiar blue-scaled claw snatched him up.

“You remembered!”

The incongruous joy in the blue dragon’s voice brought a smile to Malfurion’s face. “Azureon! It’s good to see you again. You don’t look a century older than the last time I saw you.”

“I’d shower you in false modesty at the flattery, but it’s not.” The dragon grinned at his captive passenger, still riding the bitter wind towards Moonglade. “You certainly filled out since I last saw you. Why, I remember when you were a skinny little boy with hair just turning teal and little nubby horns, and now look at you! All grown up, hair so green it makes all the dryads sigh, and quite an impressive rack!”
            “Well,” Malfurion said dryly, “It has been ten thousand years.”

“Not for me, it hasn’t!” The cheerful chirpy tone would have been disconcerting from a dragon of any other color. “I just got back earlier this month.”

The night elf frowned. “Got back?”

“You know, from ten thousand years ago? I thought my purpose in life had already been fulfilled, and I guess as far as the Lifebinder was concerned, it had been – but the Timeless One must have been paying attention at some point, and decided that someone needed to get punted back to make sure the timestream remained stable, and I drew the lucky straw!”

They flew on in silence while Malfurion wrapped his mind around that concept.

“Say, what ever happened to your brother, anyway? He’s not still locked up, is he?”

“No…he’s…the last I saw him, he was stepping through a portal to another world.”

“And how’s your priestess doing?”

The druid grinned. “She’s not my priestess. I’m her druid.”

“Whatever,” they chorused in cheerful unison, laughter trailing behind them as the ocean below gave way to mountains and trees.