“Rana,” Venser shouted from somewhere, and I could hear the panic in his voice, “RUN!”
I wasted no time questioning him. I was already surrounded by the seething mob, pressing in on me from all sides as they began to process their leader’s screech of a command. They weren’t yet stabbing me or trying to punch my teeth in, though I knew it wasn’t long until they would start – so I scrambled as fast as I could toward the edge of the crowd, desperate to break free.
We can’t fight them, I heard Jace’s voice say, and I scanned the crush of bodies in all directions for him as I ran. No luck. We’re already outnumbered – and on top of that, they’ve got Alanor. We’re going to have to teleport out and regroup.
I can see you both, but I can’t get to you, Venser returned, and as I whipped my head around looking for him now, my eyes suddenly locked onto a figure balanced atop a large, crumbling statue at the far end of the chamber. It clutched two weapons in its fists, which I recognized to be Alanor’s sword and scythe. My heart leapt. There’s no room to teleport close!
Jace’s voice resonated in my mind like a rasp, harsh and strained. Well then, we’re going to have to MAKE room.
Suddenly there was the sharp ring of steel being drawn, and the bodies around me shifted.
My eyes sought the source of the sound as I drew ever closer to the edge of the crowd, and at last they found exactly what they were looking for.
There he stood, a good ten yards away from me but yet visible through a gap in the bodies as they simultaneously drew closer to him and retreated. He crouched low in a battle-ready posture, face drawn, and hefted his broadsword out in front of him – easily, effortlessly, as if its bulk didn’t matter. In his grip, it could have weighed nothing.
For one moment his scanning eyes found mine, and our gazes locked. I froze.
Go, he whispered.
As one, the two of us leapt into action. I had run out of time in my fight to break free of the crowd, and nearly twenty figures – mostly goblins and humans, though there were several ogres thrown into the mix – were advancing on me now, daggers and swords and axes at the ready. Several of them clenched their fists, and fire sprang to life at their command to wreath their entire arms in heat and light.
I grit my teeth, and called forth all the mana I could muster. It surged into me and through me and then all around me, and I could feel the raw ecstasy of it as the hood of my cloak blew back and my hair began to whip about violently, in a wind of my own conjuration. I lifted my arms, and I saw tiny leafed vines creeping their way from my fingertips to my shoulders, even as all of me was wreathed in a shroud of black mist. It felt good. It felt powerful. Hells, it felt glorious.
“Last chance to back off,” I hissed, in a voice that was my own and yet not my own. “Next time, I’m not going to ask so nicely.”
My wild-eyed foes didn’t acknowledge me in the least. They left me no choice.
“Have it your way, then.” I thrust my hands in front of me, and a wave of force rocketed outward that set the aether shimmering. Those unlucky enough to be within its blast radius were thrown back into the bodies behind them, and I felt a wicked grin twist my lips at the sight of them toppling into one another, weapons flying. But only for a moment. Quickly, I closed my eyes, and I focused all of my effort on the task before me.
The aether hummed and shifted beneath my touch, and an instant later three massive figures burst forth from the stone floor with a deafening crash.
Bits and chunks of debris went flying from the sheer force of my trees’ entrance, and fell down upon everyone around like rain. I said a silent prayer to the spirits that Jace wouldn’t be caught up in the crossfire – but at the same time, I knew he could handle himself. Right now, I needed to focus on getting myself the hells out of this chaos, and finding Venser. I would do whatever I had to do.
Right now, that consisted of commanding my trees to slaughter everyone still coming my way.
The first two – similar in size and shape and with matching leaf-beards, though one wielded a broadsword while the other a great axe – charged straight ahead, slicing their weapons in wide arcs around them that took out dozens of cultists at once. The third tree – the root-beard, my most trusted ally that I had summoned both against Vincenius and Sheoldred – followed suit, reaching down with his impossibly thick arms to swipe even more of them away. With every step he took, he crushed still more beneath his boulder-like feet.
Suddenly, there was a great metallic screech, and a familiar voice let out a whoop that echoed across the chamber.
“Alright, let’s see how you bastards like some modified Phyrexian artifice!”
When I took a brief moment to glance up, my jaw nearly dropped – For now, skittering its way through the sea of bodies toward where Jace and I fought, was none other than Venser’s psychosis crawler. The artificer himself was seated atop some contraption that he had built onto its back, and he didn’t even have to move a muscle to urge it forward. It followed his every unspoken command, and each time any of the cultists drew too near, they fell to the floor in a fit of seizing and screaming, instantly. Like clockwork. Incredulity flooded me for a moment as I wondered how the crawler could possibly be debilitating those people so easily – but then I remembered its malfunctioning back in Venser’s workshop, and the brief assault that it had visited upon my ears. I imagined what that assault must be like when directed straight into a mind, and I winced.
“Venser!” I cried, though I knew that it would prove redundant. I had three towering sentinels to alert him to my position, but I felt compelled to say something nevertheless. “This way!”
The artificer laughed, and even from this distance I could see the boyish grin that split his face as he charged closer. “No need to worry, Rana, I see you both.” Despite the din, his voice came out loud and sharp and clear. “Just hold tight!”
My tree’s great wooden broadsword carved a path through the cultists with a single stroke, and I darted into the gap before it had time to close. Mana churned between my fingertips, so thick that I could almost feel it tangibly. My running steps came at a faster pace. “I’m holding as best I can!”
Before I could make my way closer to Venser and his crawler, though, a horrible keening roar stopped me dead in my tracks.
RANEWEN!
Jace’s voice came screaming into my head in time with the buffeting rush of air above me that sent me falling, tumbling helpless to my knees. I grunted and rolled. With a thought, before I had even hit the ground, I pleaded for my trees to come to me, and they did – Swiftly, they formed a protective circle around me, fighting back the cultists that still struggled to reach me and to cleave my head from my shoulders.
When I had a moment to look up and see what in the nine hells had caused that wind, my heart thudded to a halt.
There, banking and curving as it glided toward the far end of the chamber, was a monstrously large, bat-winged, glistening-scaled dragon. Beyond it, atop the same statue where Venser had perched, now stood Alanor, fists raised to the air as deep red mana flared between them and then out to the body of the great beast. It bathed both summoner and summoned in an angry glow of light.
My breath escaped my lips in a hoarse squeak.
“Ranewen!” Jace cried, aloud this time, and my gaze flicked between the legs of my treefolk to find him just a short distance away, trading blows with two blade-wielding humans – the only ones who weren’t either ensnared by his illusions, or caught up in battle against the two cerulean drakes he had summoned. I could see the layers of his leather cut in several places, and bright red blood dripped from his wounds. My gut twisted. “Ranewen,” he yelled again, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second, “just get to Venser and get the hells out of here! There is no way we can fight off that…nngh…!” He flinched as the blade of his opponent’s sword skimmed over an already-open arm wound, and I gasped, “…that damn dragon! Venser can come back for me, but you’ve got to get out of here first!”
“Are you kidding?!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I shook my head vehemently, and felt a sickening curl of dread as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the beast turn about-face. It snapped its jaws, and I could see muscles tensing beneath its scales as it prepared to soar straight back toward us. “Jace, are you an idiot? Look at you! There is no way you can hold your own against all these people, and Alanor, and that dragon!” I slammed my fist into the ground, and a burst of dark mana hissed up around it, curving into tendrils of smoke before my eyes. My temper flared. I relished in the abrupt sound of wood crunching bone as some foolish cultist tried to pass through my wall of tree protectors, and got cracked hard across the chest for his trouble. “We’re leaving together, dammit, or we’re not leaving at all!”
Jace chuckled. “Stupid.” He ducked beneath one opponent’s blade and spun, delivering a brutal blow across the chest of the other that sent him toppling backwards until his head hit the stone floor. Jace kept on spinning, swinging his blade in a wide, controlled arc, until it lodged tightly into the ribcage of the other man, who didn’t even have time to react. The mage yanked his weapon free, and the man dropped to the ground beside his companion with a gurgle. With the back of his free hand, Jace wiped a trickle of blood from his lips. “But if I may say so, very you.”
I wanted to ask him what that was supposed to mean, but I was distracted by the deafening roar of the dragon as it flattened its limbs to its body, and then pushed off from the wall with one powerful wingstroke.
“Look out!” Venser yelled.
It was too little too late, unfortunately.
I didn’t even have the time to conjure a simple mana barrier before it felt as if my entire body were awash in fire – and indeed, it was.
I screamed as the dragon’s breath licked across every inch of me, and before I could grasp onto enough white mana for a pain-dulling spell, my body began to spasm uncontrollably, in agony. It took every single shred of composure I still had to conjure a mass of vines to wrap around me and smother the flames, and even though I did it quickly enough to prevent any truly severe burns…Oh, dear spirits. I couldn’t even comprehend how much it hurt. I could do nothing but lay there, sucking in racking, heaving breaths as tears rolled down my cheeks and stung against the peeling flesh, and I didn’t even have the strength to lift my head and look around. It had all happened so fast. The only things that hovered before my blurred vision now were the charred remnants of my trees, having fallen to ash around me even as their deeper essence dissipated to rejoin the aether from whence it came.
The smell of charred flesh reached my nostrils. I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to prevent myself from being violently sick.
But then, before I even knew what was happening – much less respond – I felt something hard and sharp close around my torso.
I was lifted roughly up into the air, and panic tore at me in the instant I understood.
The dragon had seized me in its claws.
Adrenaline surged through my veins as the floor disappeared beneath me and I was borne higher and higher, until I could see Jace still struggling to hold back wave after wave of cultists, and Venser on his crawler still tearing through the crowd. They were both looking up at me intermittently, and I heard both of their voices cry out my name, but neither of those things really registered. What did, however, was the way Jace was now gripping his sword with two hands and panting as blood rolled down his leathers, and the harsh grinding sounds that Venser’s crawler emitted as more and more cultists threw off its psychic assault and launched themselves at it. They hacked into its spiderlike legs with their weapons, and I saw the machine emit a large cloud of steam. It jerked, sending the artificer nearly tumbling out of his already-precarious seat.
“Damn it all to hells,” I whispered.
All of these thoughts only took a few split seconds to flash through my mind, but when I came back to reality it was as harsh as being jolted out of a dream.
I heard a mad roar of triumph from across the chamber, and I caught a glimpse of Alanor’s cloak billowing out about him as he stood wreathed in a maelstrom of black and red mana, before I realized what was about to happen.
Doing as I had done before, I conjured a thick armor of vines to wind and harden around my body – and not a moment too soon, because an instant later the dragon hurled me straight out and into the chamber’s stone wall.
I felt limp, boneless, as my completely encased self slid down and onto the floor. When my body finally rolled to a halt, I shuddered, and let out a plaintive sob that I didn’t have the will to hold back. I could hear the clattering and the clamor of battle around me. It was distant, muffled, but I could hear the bloodlust in the echoing cries, and then one of my companion’s yells of alarm being cut off, and...it all scared me more than anything. More than my own predicament. I wanted this to all just stop.
I couldn’t deny being afraid for myself, however, because I knew that if I let go of the hold I had on my spell, the dragon would tear me to pieces in an instant. I wouldn’t have time to go on the offensive. Not even a moment.
With a silent prayer for help, I put everything I had into strengthening that spell.
When the dragon lifted me up again and exhaled its fire on me anew, I screamed at the top of my lungs, as the tightly woven vines trapped and intensified the heat until it felt as if my body were blistering, bubbling and boiling and turning to liquid.
“Noooooo,” I wailed. I was a child again, a helpless, terrified girl pleading desperately for her mother. It hurts. It hurts. Please no, it hurts. Make it stop. I writhed uncontrollably, feeling my shell protest against the movements, which only made it hurt worse. “Help me, oh spirits, please, aaahhhhhh---!”
The dragon tore at me, clawed at me, sank its teeth into the heavy layer of plant matter that separated me from an instant’s gruesome death, and then finally spat me out hard onto the ground when it must have realized that its tactics weren’t working.
I couldn’t move an inch in my leafy prison. I could do nothing but shake, and breathe hard, and cry. I could feel my connection with the mana lines coursing into me begin to fade, and my heart pounded hard against my chest as I watched them go.
Jace, I thought, as I tasted the salt and blood of a tear that had made its way to my lips. The inside of my armor positively reeked with my blood, and I felt as if I were going to drown in the scent alone of the heady substance. Venser. Please…
…get out of here.
I could keep a hold on my spell no longer. I didn’t want to let go, I desperately didn’t want to, and every fiber of my being screamed out at me to hold on if I gave a damn whether I lived or died, but…I could do nothing else. I just didn’t have the strength.
I released my grip.
The vines disappeared in a matter of seconds, and I lay on my back now, staring up into the dragon’s blindingly yellow eyes as it lifted me up on a single talon, gingerly, with what I could almost call tenderness.
Then it snarled, and with abrupt and brutal force, it threw me once more against the chamber wall.
I heard my skull crack against the cold stone.
Blood began to rush down my face like a river.
RANEWEN! DAMMIT, NO! Jace’s voice came into my mind then, screaming but yet sounding as far away as I knew my home of Zendikar to be. Or at least, what was left of it.
As I peeled away from the wall and fell, my vision stayed long enough for me to catch a glimpse of him – being forced to the ground beneath the press of two dozen bodies, his sword clattering to the stone as it was yanked from his hands. A swift gust of air blew everyone back for a moment, away from his form...but only for a moment. In that brief time I could see the mage laying on his back, still, save for the trembling rise and fall of his chest as he strained to breathe. He was covered in blood.
Beyond him, I saw Venser standing straight up in the chair of his crawler, fists clenched at his sides as his eyes locked on me and he, too, screamed my name. He didn’t seem to care that his machine was crumpling beneath him, at last quelled by the might of an endless sea of cultists.
Then I saw nothing more. I could only hear and feel as my legs hit the ground, and snapped like twigs beneath me.
I heard the dragon then, too, rumbling and letting out a long, loud roar that echoed in tune with the same victorious howl of its master.
I guess this is the last time I have to go through this, then. My thoughts floated, as dissipate as fog beneath the dappled sunlight that poked through the canopy of the jaddi-trees. Or had, once. Maybe I would see my old home again, in a short while. Alive, and vibrant. Just the way I remembered it. No more waking up safe and sound.
A shudder ran through my body, and then nothing seemed to hurt anymore. Even as I felt the dragon’s weight part the air as it rushed down toward me, I welcomed the release.
I’m really going to die.
“NO!”
A loud pop rang in my ears, so jarring that I found myself opening my eyes, forcing them to see from whence the sound had come.
To my utmost surprise – and horror – I saw Venser crouched over me, arms spread out to his sides as a shimmering barrier formed a wide dome around us both.
No, I thought weakly, save yourself. Get out of here.
But of course he couldn’t hear me. He wasn’t Jace the telepath. He was an artificer, and now Venser the artificer grunted as the dragon crashed headfirst into the barrier, and reared back on its hind legs. The beast screeched. Venser staggered.
I couldn’t speak, but I desperately wanted to. A sob built in my broken chest to somehow make its way up and out past the blood that poured from my mouth. You’re not supposed to die with me, dammit, I would have said. The artificer’s face turned to me, pale, and he reached down to brush a gentle hand against my cheek. It shook. I wanted to fling him away, to yell at him and shake him by the shoulders, no matter how much that simple gesture did comfort me – anything that would get him away from here, and danger. Away from me. You have to save yourself…save Jace…
But as if he had read my mind he leaned in and spoke, his fingertips digging into my skin as the dragon threw itself against the barrier once more.
“I’m not,” he whispered harshly, even as the ground beneath us shook, “leaving you.” Bits of stone broke off from the ceiling above us, and made sharp skittering sounds as they fell and bounced off of the barrier. When Venser opened his mouth again, I could hear something in his voice tearing at the edges. “So don’t you dare die on me, Rana.”
The dragon screeched again as it prepared for another strike, and all I could muster was another desperate sob. I couldn’t look away from Venser’s brown eyes, from the mixture of emotions that I was so far from being able to grasp as I hovered here, now, impossibly aware, on the edge of life and death.
But just before the creature came crashing down on us both, there was a flash of brilliant white light.
This is it, I thought. This must be what it’s like to die.
Venser fell back onto his knees. Had I been able, I would have let out a cry. I felt the overwhelming sensation of white mana as it poured out from somewhere and into everywhere, and filled the entire chamber with its resonating strength.
There was a bone-chilling, wordless shout – a war cry. Steel rang like a bell, and I was reminded of the many steeples and belfries that I had come to know already, in my short time that I had spent here in Ravnica. I was vaguely aware of a smile, spreading unbidden across my lips. There were screams.
I drifted.
When I became aware again, I felt a warmth – a sensation akin to being cradled against someone’s chest, in arms that were at once strong and gentle. Whoever held me did so with such a featherlight touch that I felt as if I were floating – or perhaps, it was that I simply couldn’t feel anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised. I didn’t feel pain.
I could feel a different warmth too, now – that same radiance of white mana that had overwhelmed me before. Whether it had been seconds or hours ago, I didn’t know. I didn’t care to know. I was so tired.
“Who…are you?” Venser’s voice came from above me, incredulous, and that was the last thing I heard before I let go, and slipped away into the arms of blissful nothingness.
I wondered vaguely whether I would wake up in the end or not.
You are good. That is a cliff-hanger to be proud of. Really. I'm betting it's not Elspeth...and it's not Gideon...but then...who? Ajani, perhaps? Or someone brand new? Oh dear this is gonna drive me nuts. Very well done. And...umm...Jace and Venser are badass.
BTW, this chapter also awesome chapter, excel in descriptions of the scuffle.
Venser take a ride in Psychosis Crawler is an interesting idea. Even though Phyrexian machine, its pathetically sincere loyalty to him.
Well as you were saying, I'm glad to see Jace accustomed to wielding Kallist's sword
I'm really can't wait for next!
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sorry for my poor English.
From Japan with love \('-'*)
I just got back from a weekend out of town, during which I had absolutely zero time to write. So Chapter 20 will be up by Wednesday (I'd rather take a bit extra time to make it good than rush all day today and only crank out something mediocre...plus, I'm in dire need of some sleep). Hope that's okay with everyone!
I think I speak for everyone when I say that is no problem at all. This quality of writing is more the worth waiting for. Take your time, we can wait a few more days :).
A/N: Crossing my fingers that this turned out the way I hoped. Aaaghhh.
On a related note, Chapter 21 will, indeed, be up on Monday (as usual)!
Chapter 20:
Contrary to my expectation, I did, in fact, wake up.
“Rana?”
I groaned. My eyelids were still closed, but I could see the shadows of movement beyond them, dark against a curtain of red. Little multicolored dots danced in whatever it was I could call my field of vision.
“Rana, can you hear me?”
“Mmmmn.”
Whoever my conversation partner was, they chuckled. No – he. I was too disoriented still to recognize who he was, though I felt like I should.
Oh.
“V…Ven…ser?”
Now I recognized the quiet rumble of the artificer’s voice. He was laughing, gently. “Well, now I know for sure you’re feeling better. You called me by my full name this time!”
Huh? My eyes slid open a crack, and I saw his brown ones – clear and bright – gazing down at me from the edge of my bed. My bed? I’m back in the compound? He brushed a bit of hair out of his face as he leaned over, and he smiled. Despite the welcome sight though, I groaned again.
“Whazza supposta mean?” I slurred. Clearly, my tongue wasn’t quite prepared for function after what felt like so long a rest. I didn’t know how long I had really been out, but it felt like an absolute eternity.
Venser leaned in a little closer, and as sensation slowly began to return I realized that one of his hands was reaching up to press something cool and wet against my forehead. The touch of it tingled, and even in my groggy stupor I recognized the sensation to be mana.
“When you were out,” the artificer said, matter-of-factly, as he procured a small bottle from somewhere at his waist, “you would respond to me, sometimes.” His smile turned into a crooked grin as he took out the stopper and poured a few drops onto his index finger, which he pressed for a brief moment between my eyebrows. When he pulled it back, a strange warmth spread from the spot. I blinked. “You always called me Ven, though. You only really gave one-syllable responses, so honestly, that was the best I could ask for.” He recorked the bottle and slipped it back into what I now saw to be a satchel at his belt, overflowing with herbs and vials and spirits knew what else. When he turned back to me, he was positively beaming. “But it sounds like you’re doing much better now!”
I laughed. The sound came out like a hoarse, breathy rasp – but still, it was better than nothing. “I…like that.” I coughed once then, despite my marked improvement in speech, and the motion sent a knife of pain through my chest. Venser scrunched up his brow in concern, but I shook my head to indicate that I was fine. He seemed to relax. “I-It’s…ngh…it’s cute. You don’t…have a nickname, and you gave me one, so…why not?”
Venser’s cheeks reddened. I wanted to giggle, seeing as how I must have injured his masculine pride by referring to him with such a feminine word, but I wasn’t sure if my muscles would be able to manage that. I settled for a grin instead.
“I guess it’s only fair,” the artificer said. He bowed his head a little, and reached up to comb his fingers through his hair as, at last, he grinned in return. “I’ll just have to get used to it, then, huh?”
I nodded. “Mm.” There was a pause as my gaze skimmed past him and out to the rest of the room, which, to my surprise, now held a long table in one corner that was covered from end to end in…well, in what I could best describe as a small laboratory. Bottles lined the whole back of the table, in all shapes and sizes, and filled with many different colors of liquids. Small boxes of herbs and other dry ingredients were stacked on both of the table’s sides, and in the center there stood several metal contraptions the likes of which I had never seen before, with the only one I recognized being a mortar and pestle set made of smooth black stone. Papers were strewn all about the workspace, and a quill pen stood upright in an inkwell off to one side. I felt my head tilt in a gesture of confusion, and I turned to look at Venser.
“What is all that?” I asked. My voice had almost returned to normal by now, though my tongue still felt a little thick. I managed a chuckle. “You didn’t find it stashed away in some secret compartment of my closet, did you?”
Venser sighed. “Ah…no, unfortunately. That would have been way more convenient. Some of it’s mine, and the rest is borrowed from Vincenius. I told you he was teaching me alchemy, didn’t I?”
“I think so.” I took in the array once more with a growing curiosity. “Why did you bring it all here? Need to practice since you’ve been away for awhile?”
The artificer laughed lightly. He shifted a little, and the bed squeaked underneath his weight. “No, though I’m sure Doc would appreciate the sentiment.” Now he was the one to tilt his head as he regarded me, and he smiled. “Rana, you know I don’t know any healing magic, right? All that is what I’ve been using to take care of you.”
My face flushed a bright red before I could stop it. Take care of me? But that means… “Ven, you’ve…” I paused for a moment. Even though I had just dubbed him with that nickname, it felt perfectly natural on my tongue, and for whatever reason that flustered me. I shook my head. “Why have you been doing that? How long have I even been out?”
He shrugged. “A week and a half, about. And what else could I do? I wasn’t just going to leave you here with all your injuries untended.”
My blush deepened. A week and a half? He’s been taking care of me for that long? I felt the dire need to protest. “But what about Vincenius? Getting him would’ve saved you all that time---”
But Venser shook his head. “No. I thought about it, but he’s been incredibly busy lately – When I went back to make sure I had everything, I found out there was another raid on the camp shortly after we came to Ravnica. Doc’s been busy tending to the injured, and knowing him, he probably hasn’t gotten any sleep in days. I knew I could deal with your injuries on my own, so I just borrowed what stuff I needed from him and left. I’m sure he won’t mind. He said I could use it if I ever needed to.”
I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t stop the heat that had spread so quickly and so unexpectedly across my cheeks, so I just tried my best to ignore it. “I can’t believe it. You really didn’t have to do all that for me, Ven…”
“Of course I did!” I looked up, startled to find the artificer significantly closer to my face now. He had the same little bottle from before in his hands, and he was leaning in to press his finger on my brow, above both eyes. It was hot, but this time I could feel mana as it coursed into me, along my nerves and down my spine. “Stop acting like you’re not worth my time, Rana. I’m not going to have any of that.” Finished, he pulled back and smiled. This expression held no less warmth than any of his others, but for whatever reason, I felt something in my chest stutter a little when I met it. “I had the skills to help you, and I used them. I’m going to keep using them, too, up until you’re fully healed.”
I realized that he wasn’t going to budge from his point, so I sighed and allowed myself to lean back against my pillows. My hair splayed out all around my head, but I didn’t care enough to fix it. “Fine. I give. You win.” I noted out of the corner of my eye when his smile morphed itself into a wry grin, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt my own smile coming on, unbidden. “But…thank you, Ven. I don’t really remember much of what happened, but I’m grateful that it’s you who’s taking care of me.”
Venser flushed again. I wanted to giggle. He was…cute, when he was embarrassed.
Wait…what?
“Uh…” He reached up to muss his hair a little. “Well, you’re, ah…you’re welcome.” He was looking down at his knees now, but it wasn’t enough to hide the fact that his grin had broadened. “It’s what I do.”
There didn’t seem to be more to say, so for a moment I simply lied there, still and warm and comfortable beneath all my blankets - and despite the fact that my body felt weaker than I had ever remembered it, I couldn’t feel any pain. Whatever Venser had concocted up to numb me, it was working like a charm. “What all of me is hurt, anyway?”
“Hm?” Venser looked up and blinked, as if slipping out of a daze. “Oh. Well, your skull was cracked open, which is why you lost so much blood at first. That’s mostly healed, though – I put the majority of my effort toward getting that to repair itself, since I figured that was the most dangerous.” Frowning in concentration, he began to count off my injuries on his fingers. “Both your legs are broken, which is what’s keeping you bedridden for so long. The first layer of your skin was badly burned, and you had all kinds of minor scratches and bruises everywhere on your body.” Abruptly, he blushed. “Uh…mostly on your torso, so if you feel any soreness there, it’s probably because they’re scarring over. I let those heal on their own – I just put a poultice on them to prevent infection.”
I tried to move my legs. I could do it, but the flare of pain that accompanied the motion was a strong deterrent from trying again. I winced. “That’s…” I gasped, trying to fight back the wave of nausea that swiftly followed in the wake of my discomfort. “That’s…a lot to work with.”
Venser laughed nervously. “Yeah. It is, but like I said, it’s mostly your legs that are the trouble. Everything else is either healed or healing.” He stood up to procure a tiny vial with some pale blue liquid from the table, which he came back over and handed to me. I took it, examining the contents with a careful eye. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with your stomach.” I trusted him, so I did. The stuff was a little hard to swallow, but it didn’t taste unpleasant – like milk mixed with honey water, oddly enough. I felt a tickle in the back of my throat once I had gulped it down, and I was about to ask him if that was a normal side effect when a thought inched its way into my mind and gave me pause.
Blue…
Suddenly, my heart stopped. All the questions that had been bubbling on my tongue, of how Venser and I had gotten out of the damn tunnels alive in the first place, or what it was that had saved us, or what had happened to Alanor and the cult, were crushed beneath the weight of my newfound panic.
“Jace,” I gasped, jerking forward to take hold of the artificer’s arm. My movement was so sudden that it must have startled him, because he flinched, and his eyes went wide. “Venser, where is he? Where’s Jace? What happened to him?!”
“Calm down, Rana,” he said, tone dropping to a comforting rumble as he placed both of his hands overtop mine. Despite the touch, my heartbeat picked up instead of slowed down. “He’s fine. He’s over in…Ovitzia, I think it was ? He’s visiting some healer friend of his. He said that if she ever found out he got hurt and didn’t come straight to her, she’d kill him. Considering all that, I’d say he’s in considerably better shape than you.”
Even as relief washed over me, my heart sank. She? “Oh.” I let my hand slip from Venser’s arm, but he kept ahold of it even so, until my breathing slowed and I allowed my shoulders to slump. “Well, that’s…that’s a relief to hear. Sorry for freaking out.” I shook my head, and took a deep breath in an attempt to relax. It didn’t work. Well, at least I tried. “How did we even get back here, anyway? I thought for sure that I was dead. I’d lost so much blood…”
Venser hesitated, exhaling deeply as he shrugged. “You did, but…well…” He bit his lower lip. “Akroma was able to stop it in time. She stopped your body from going into shock, too.”
Who? I wanted to ask, but before I could even open my mouth there was a clattering to my right, and I turned my head to see an exquisitely beautiful woman leaning against the doorframe, gold and turquoise-encrusted wings framing a cascade of violet hair. She shifted in position and crossed her arms over her chest, causing the sword at her back to make the same clattering sound from before as it bounced against her equally-adorned armor.
My jaw dropped.
An…angel?!
“Unfortunately,” she spoke, voice rich and resonant, “I could not do more at the time.” She bowed her head a little as she regarded me, but I could only stare back at her in complete wonderment. I might have been embarrassed of my behavior, had I been in less of a state of shock. “I had already expended a great deal of mana destroying the cult leader and his summon, and healing magic has never been my specialty. As such, I left the task of your recovery to this young man here.”
“I…” I couldn’t think of what to say. A million thoughts were racing through my mind as I met her eyes, which seemed to shift color from green to blue to violet to black, then even to a shimmering gold. “You…you killed Alanor?”
“Beheaded him,” Venser whispered, leaning in close. “One clean stroke.” I winced, and he nodded sympathetically. “The rest of the cultists fled the second they saw it.”
Across from us, Akroma stood tall and nodded.
“He and his forces were causing harm to the man who summoned me, and to his allies,” she said simply. She raised one gauntleted hand as she spoke, and for a moment I marveled at how white and pristine her armor was. It nearly glittered with a light of its own. “You were at a disadvantage, and all three of you were close to death. I saw no other option. I had to kill him.”
“We thank you for that,” Venser murmured. He seemed to sense that I was still processing what she had said, and so he bowed his head to the angel respectfully, as she had done. One hand lifted off of mine to curl into a fist and clap firmly against his heart. “It’s true – You did save our lives, when you intervened back there. We’re all in your debt, Akroma.”
She nodded, and to my surprise I saw a hint of a smile touch the corners of her lips. “No,” she said softly, “it is I who am in your debt. I have been given new life thanks to your companion. As he regards you in high esteem, so too shall I. My sword is yours to command should you wish it.”
Though I wasn’t sure how to go about dispensing pleasantries when it came to an angel, I couldn’t hold back my question any longer. It was about ready to burst through my rib cage. “Akroma,” I said, leaning forward as much as I could without causing any pain in my legs, “what do you mean, ‘your summoner?’ Who are you talking about?”
“Ah.” The angel uncrossed her arms, slowly, and a genuine smile began to spread across her face. “I apologize. I suppose I should explain.” Gently, she cleared her throat. “The summoner I speak of is your Jace Beleren.” At those words I swallowed hard, and I noticed that she was looking directly at me now, eyes sharp. My cheeks heated for what felt like the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes. My Jace? “Long ago, my first master Ixidor shaped me into being in a dream, without his own knowledge. His grief for his lost wife was so great, and his will and command of mana so strong, that I simply manifested as flesh – a whole being. I passed long ago, however, and I was unaware that some shred of my consciousness still existed until your battle one week ago. Jace Beleren commands a similar magic to Ixidor, though it is not quite the same – But nevertheless, his desperate grief as he saw his companions fall reached me in whatever place I existed, and I responded to it, likely because I could connect to the tide of mana flowing through him. I have a feeling there is something more to it, but…at this moment, I know not what it is.” She shrugged delicately. “I simply know that I am here now, and that there must be some purpose for my being called back into this world.”
Beside me, Venser let out a quiet sigh. “Huh.” I turned to him, and found him staring intently at Akroma, brow furrowed. He folded his hands together beneath his chin. “Akroma, would I be correct in saying that you were once part of Karona?”
The angel nodded, though she looked a bit taken aback. “You would.”
Venser smiled, and suddenly I noticed a gleam in those brown eyes of his. “Just like Jeska…” There was a pause, and then at last his other hand let go of mine and he sat up, leaning heavily against his knees. His gaze continued to bore a hole through Akroma’s. “Well, I have a theory. It’s a little far-fetched, but I think it has some merit.”
Akroma tilted her head. A flicker of amusement crossed her porcelain face. “Go on.”
“My theory,” Venser began, leaning forward, “is that you, too, have a planeswalker spark now. Not like Urza or anyone like him, but…like mine. Like Jace’s and Rana’s.” His gaze flicked to me briefly, and I gave him a look that made clear my confusion as to what was going on – but to my dismay, he simply winked in response. When he looked away, I realized that there was something fluttering in my chest, and I briefly wondered whether or not my fractured skull had been accompanied by any brain trauma.
“Jeska was a part of Karona too, as Phage,” the artificer continued. “When she was reborn as her original self, she was Jeska Planeswalker. She said that she didn’t understand how it had happened, but then again, do any of us really know much about the spark? I know I don’t.” He paused for a moment, and then suddenly he inhaled sharply, eyes widening. His face erupted in a grin. Clearly, he had just thought of something important. “It fits, too! Your spark could have provided that extra tether to our world that allowed you to latch onto Jace, and use his mana to pull you back into existence!”
Though Akroma was skilled at keeping her expression neutral, I caught one brief instant where her own eyes widened, and she leaned forward from the doorframe. “I see what you are saying,” she said, her voice a thoughtful murmur. “You are right. It is far-fetched – but yet, it makes sense.”
Venser nodded eagerly. “I wouldn’t go rushing headlong into the Blind Eternities anytime soon, but I certainly think it’s worth giving some thought.”
The angel nodded. “Yes. Indeed I will, Venser. I thank you.”
The artificer blushed, and I smiled as I saw the redness spread all the way up to his ears. Dammit, why am I smiling at him so much?! “You’re more than welcome,” he said quietly.
When Akroma’s gaze shifted smoothly to me, I straightened up without even realizing what I was doing. Her presence was so commanding that the motion was almost an instinctual response, as was the way I sucked in my breath and held it tight.
“What are you going to do now?” I found myself asking, before blinking in surprise at the words that had come out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it – beneath my veneer of reverence, I was genuinely curious. What could such a creature like her – a radiant, potential-planeswalker angel, something I had never even dreamed of meeting – possibly have in mind as far as her goals went? Did she want to lead armies to victory in glorious battle? Did she want to serve as the vanguard in some all-out effort to save to world, a beacon of hope and light for all the people she commanded? Would she, perhaps, be willing to help us in our fight, and to save my home plane from complete consumption?
“Me?” The angel smiled, and I could feel its warmth from all the way across the room. “As I told you, I am in your debt. Until the day that Jace Beleren dismisses me, I will fight for whatever cause he allies himself to, and I will protect those he holds dear so long as I am able.”
I blinked. Wait. Could it…really be that easy? “Did Jace tell you about what we’re all planning to do? Is that why you’re sticking with him?”
She shook her head, and I watched as one lustrous strand of hair tumbled down and into her face. My breath caught in my throat at the sight, and I wondered how a single living being could possibly be so beautiful. “No,” she said, eyes meeting mine for one brief, charged second. “He has not.”
“But I do believe there is plenty of time for the three if you to fill me in, yes?”
***
It took nearly two more weeks for me to fully regain the use of my legs, but it was two weeks well spent.
Whenever plans weren’t being discussed and battles recounted with Akroma, I was simply spending time with Venser – which, not in the least to my surprise, was always enjoyable. No matter how dark the circles under the artificer’s eyes grew, or how long I heard him tinkering away at his makeshift desk in the opposite corner of the room as I slipped beneath the cloak of sleep, he never failed to greet me with a warm smile.
One morning I awoke to find him fast asleep in a chair beside my bed, a vial rolling in one open palm and a thick strip of leather tightly clutched in the other. I didn’t have the heart to wake him, so I simply reclined against my pillows until he did on his own, and tried not to smile too big when he yawned and stretched his arms high above his head.
“This is for you,” he said sleepily, once he had roused himself enough, and then he handed me the strip of leather. When I turned it over, I realized that it was an armband – carved all around both edges with a tiny, intricate leaf pattern, so small that at first I wondered if I hadn’t imagined it. My heart leapt at the sight.
“You need something to wear Elspeth’s sigil on, don’t you?” His eyelids drooped, but still he smiled at me kindly. When I could only stare at him, mouth slightly agape, he laughed. “Besides, I needed something to pass the time when I’m not talking to you.”
No you don’t, I thought, even as I felt the sudden urge to force the last vial of his sleeping elixir down his throat. Unbidden, I felt a lump forming in my own. You’ve been staying up nearly every night trying to make these potions and poultices and whatever the hells else they are for me, and you’ve worked yourself completely ragged. You didn’t need to pass the time. You need to sleep. You made this because you wanted to…
…for whatever damn reason…
Instead of chastising the artificer, though, I just smiled, and wrapped the warm leather around my upper arm. “Thank you, Ven,” I said. My voice was quieter than usual, but for once, I didn’t ask myself any questions. “It’s…it’s really pretty. I love it.”
“Here, I’ll get that for you,” he said, and he leaned forward to tie the laces snug where my fumbling grasp had failed. I could see that he was beaming. The calluses on his fingers felt rough when they brushed against my skin, but…in truth, it wasn’t a bad feeling. His touch was gentle. I assumed it was from years and years of working with small, delicate, breakable things – a category which, apparently, a woman like me could be counted among.
When did I start thinking about stuff like this? I wondered, even as I fought back the blush that threatened to give away my sentimentality.
***
When the two weeks had at last drawn to a close, I was well enough to be walking on my own again, though I still needed Venser’s help to make my way up and down the stairs.
I put the majority of my weight against his shoulder now as I swung myself out and down, hovering over the next step for a moment before I finally alighted.
“Better!” the artificer exclaimed. His arm around me squeezed lightly, and he grinned. I turned to him and returned the expression. “Next time try not to lean on me so much, but still, that was definitely an improvement!”
My laugh then came out more like a snort. I didn’t care enough to be embarrassed, though. “I’m sure my tribe would’ve just loved to see me like this, huh? One of their best and brightest hunters, needing the arm of a big strong man to help me climb down twenty feet – Spirits, I’d be laughed out of the home tree!”
Venser chuckled, and helped hoist me a little as I hobbled my way down the next two steps. “Well then, I would have to teleport up there and yell at them until they personally dragged you back and apologized. I can see a little teasing about one broken leg, but two?” His eyes shone as they held mine. “Now that’s just downright mean.”
The ceiling lowered over my head as we passed into the common room landing, and I was about to open my mouth to respond when suddenly my eye caught a glimpse of bright blue – which, when I paused and looked again, revealed itself to be a familiar tattered cloak. My heart skipped a beat.
“Jace!” I cried, and made to jump down the last three stairs before Venser caught me and held me back, keeping me from tumbling flat on my face. I nearly laughed aloud at my own stupidity.
“Ranewen,” the mage breathed. He set down the book he was perusing and swept to his feet in one quick motion, his cloak billowing out around him. When his gaze fell on mine, my breath caught in my throat at the emotion in those blue eyes. For a moment – just one – I caught their profound relief before something in them shifted and they became inscrutable again, but it was enough. Jace made his way over toward the two of us, and I had to resist the urge to launch myself at him and hug him until he passed out. Having been worried sick about him for the past two weeks, it was more than a little difficult.
“Venser,” he said, smiling warmly at the artificer as we descended the last stair and he came to stand in front of us. “It’s really good to see the two of you alright.”
“A little less than alright,” I corrected, sticking out the better of my two legs, “but I’m getting there.”
Jace’s eyes widened for an instant, but then he relaxed, and shook his head. He chuckled. “Well, it’s better than dead, that’s for sure.” There was a pause, and then the small smile faded from his face as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a concerned frown. “I…thought you were dead for awhile, Rana. You have no idea how relieved I was when Akroma told me you were safe…”
My heart nearly stopped outright this time. Rana. He used my nickname. I shook my own head, vehemently, and now that I wasn’t on the stairs anymore I pulled gently free of Venser and took a step closer to the mage. It was more like a shuffle, in truth, but I managed. “Well then, how do you think I felt? The last thing I see of you is you lying on the ground, bloody, in the middle of a circle of cultists – and then when we make it out of everything alive, I don’t get to see you for three weeks!”
“Two,” Venser corrected from behind me. I didn’t turn around to see his face, but his tone clearly held a hint of amusement. “You were mostly unconscious for the first one, if you remember.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help my grin. “Right. Whatever. Two weeks.” I lifted my gaze to meet Jace’s again, and when he held it unwaveringly I felt my heartbeat pick up to doubletime. “All that time, I have no idea how you’re doing, or even where you are, really. I have no clue where Ovitzia is.” I folded my arms over my chest with a huff. “So you’re not going to get any sympathy complaining to me, got it? And I mean it, too.”
Jace barked out a short laugh. He smiled, and the expression quickly spread all the way up to the corners of his eyes as they bunched. “Right. Sure. I’ll just, uh…pretend I believe you, okay?” But before I could protest – or even respond – he reached out to pull me into a hug, warm and welcome and friendly, and I found it very hard to breathe. The gesture drew a small squeak from me before I could stop it. Suddenly, I was very sure that Jace could hear my now-frantic heartbeat. Great.
I wasn’t one to complain, though, so it didn’t take long for me to relax and melt into the embrace.
The only thing that stopped me from doing so completely, however, was the strange sensation that I felt when Jace’s right arm wrapped itself around my back.
I laughed gently as he pulled away a moment later, keeping his hands on my shoulders to hold me out at arm’s length. “What, are you wearing armor beneath that glove now?” Even with the fabric covering it, his touch had felt…different – smooth, and strangely hard. It felt as if he had on some sort of metal gauntlet beneath the glove, which he always wore all the way up his right arm. Or perhaps he had injured his hand worse than Venser had admitted, and it was some sort of rehabilitative brace. The latter thought sent a pang of sympathy straight through my gut.
“Ah.” Jace’s voice had dropped at least an octave, and now instead of its previous cheer, his tone held only…anxiety. I furrowed my brow as I looked at him, puzzled. All he could do was shake his head and sigh.
“I figured this would come up eventually, but not so soon. …Damn.”
“What?” I asked.
Behind me, Venser’s breath hitched. This time I turned to look at the artificer, and his eyes were wide. A chill of dread rolled down my spine. “Don’t tell me…”
“Yeah.” Jace chuckled, ruefully, and began to peel off his glove. “I won’t tell, I’ll show.”
He let the fabric fall to the floor, and then when he pushed up his sleeve with his other hand, I gasped.
There, in the place of his flesh-and-blood arm, was a twisting amalgamation of metal and mana, the dull grey alloy glowing blue under its own light source. His metal fingertips came to points at the ends of long, thick strands of more metal, and as I stared in a mix of horror and fascination he wiggled them, like any normally accoutered person might do.
I couldn’t speak, so fortunately Venser came to stand by my side and do it for me. As he, too, stared, he shook his head in disbelief.
“I think you have some explaining to do, Jace,” he said quietly.
First one eyebrow was this high, then the other came to join it. Walkroma + Esperjace? I'm sure you have much entertainment to derive from such ramifications!
Vincenius (boyfriend) and I DO enjoy coming up with, ah, shall we say...unconventional ideas. It's way too much fun.
Plus, it's a challenge for me to incorporate them in writing. And I'm always up for a challenge!
Now that I can relate with. It's the reason I enjoy the Custom Cards forum and building esoteric combo decks - the possibility to make people think in new ways and to make a masterpiece from the most awkward constraints (Doubling Season/Opalescence/Followed Footsteps: Priceless).
Now that I can relate with. It's the reason I enjoy the Custom Cards forum and building esoteric combo decks - the possibility to make people think in new ways and to make a masterpiece from the most awkward constraints (Doubling Season/Opalescence/Followed Footsteps: Priceless).
It's one of the most fun things about being an author, to me. Creating something good (or at least decently so) out of something unexpected and strange is just the best feeling.
On a side note, though, I have to say that there's a little more to Esper!Jace than meets the eye...;)
All things come to those who wait...and it was worth it!
Akroma...one of my all time fave angels (both in the canon, and as a card) appears, and as a planeswalker! This is too good to be true. And the best part? It does make sense, in a way. Jace is an illusionist, as was Ixidor. If a rush of emotion, unbidded and charged with power could create her, another should be able to give her life again. And besides, who knows how dead she was? Karona was a bit of a mess anyway, so it makes sense that she could be recovered from nothingness.
As an aside...Etherium? Mhm. Seems Jace learned something from ol' Tezzy afterall.
And is that the hint of a love triangle I spy between Jace, Venser, and Rana? Oh I love this alot.
More then worth the wait. I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapters, as always. And, for the record...that cliffhanger from last time? Perfect payoff.
Akroma...one of my all time fave angels (both in the canon, and as a card) appears, and as a planeswalker! This is too good to be true. And the best part? It does make sense, in a way. Jace is an illusionist, as was Ixidor. If a rush of emotion, unbidded and charged with power could create her, another should be able to give her life again. And besides, who knows how dead she was? Karona was a bit of a mess anyway, so it makes sense that she could be recovered from nothingness.
Wooo, that's a relief! I'm glad to hear that you think it made sense. I knew the idea was going to be a bit out there, but I really wanted to try it nevertheless - I just didn't know how well it would be received since I'm starting to dabble in pre-Mending canon, which I'm not as well versed in (yet).
And is that the hint of a love triangle I spy between Jace, Venser, and Rana? Oh I love this alot.
Just you wait, my friend. Just you wait...in a few chapters you're either going to love things even more, or you're going to want to mercilessly throttle me. I'm guessing a little of both.
Acquired? As in took from? But, the only time that would have happened is when Jace...oh dear...could that be...oh dear me :o. Thats...actually really awesome of Jace, if its what i think it is. Wow...thats sort of dark, when I think about it like that. Awesome, but dark :p.
“Rana,” Venser shouted from somewhere, and I could hear the panic in his voice, “RUN!”
I wasted no time questioning him. I was already surrounded by the seething mob, pressing in on me from all sides as they began to process their leader’s screech of a command. They weren’t yet stabbing me or trying to punch my teeth in, though I knew it wasn’t long until they would start – so I scrambled as fast as I could toward the edge of the crowd, desperate to break free.
We can’t fight them, I heard Jace’s voice say, and I scanned the crush of bodies in all directions for him as I ran. No luck. We’re already outnumbered – and on top of that, they’ve got Alanor. We’re going to have to teleport out and regroup.
I can see you both, but I can’t get to you, Venser returned, and as I whipped my head around looking for him now, my eyes suddenly locked onto a figure balanced atop a large, crumbling statue at the far end of the chamber. It clutched two weapons in its fists, which I recognized to be Alanor’s sword and scythe. My heart leapt. There’s no room to teleport close!
Jace’s voice resonated in my mind like a rasp, harsh and strained. Well then, we’re going to have to MAKE room.
Suddenly there was the sharp ring of steel being drawn, and the bodies around me shifted.
My eyes sought the source of the sound as I drew ever closer to the edge of the crowd, and at last they found exactly what they were looking for.
There he stood, a good ten yards away from me but yet visible through a gap in the bodies as they simultaneously drew closer to him and retreated. He crouched low in a battle-ready posture, face drawn, and hefted his broadsword out in front of him – easily, effortlessly, as if its bulk didn’t matter. In his grip, it could have weighed nothing.
For one moment his scanning eyes found mine, and our gazes locked. I froze.
Go, he whispered.
As one, the two of us leapt into action. I had run out of time in my fight to break free of the crowd, and nearly twenty figures – mostly goblins and humans, though there were several ogres thrown into the mix – were advancing on me now, daggers and swords and axes at the ready. Several of them clenched their fists, and fire sprang to life at their command to wreath their entire arms in heat and light.
I grit my teeth, and called forth all the mana I could muster. It surged into me and through me and then all around me, and I could feel the raw ecstasy of it as the hood of my cloak blew back and my hair began to whip about violently, in a wind of my own conjuration. I lifted my arms, and I saw tiny leafed vines creeping their way from my fingertips to my shoulders, even as all of me was wreathed in a shroud of black mist. It felt good. It felt powerful. Hells, it felt glorious.
“Last chance to back off,” I hissed, in a voice that was my own and yet not my own. “Next time, I’m not going to ask so nicely.”
My wild-eyed foes didn’t acknowledge me in the least. They left me no choice.
“Have it your way, then.” I thrust my hands in front of me, and a wave of force rocketed outward that set the aether shimmering. Those unlucky enough to be within its blast radius were thrown back into the bodies behind them, and I felt a wicked grin twist my lips at the sight of them toppling into one another, weapons flying. But only for a moment. Quickly, I closed my eyes, and I focused all of my effort on the task before me.
The aether hummed and shifted beneath my touch, and an instant later three massive figures burst forth from the stone floor with a deafening crash.
Bits and chunks of debris went flying from the sheer force of my trees’ entrance, and fell down upon everyone around like rain. I said a silent prayer to the spirits that Jace wouldn’t be caught up in the crossfire – but at the same time, I knew he could handle himself. Right now, I needed to focus on getting myself the hells out of this chaos, and finding Venser. I would do whatever I had to do.
Right now, that consisted of commanding my trees to slaughter everyone still coming my way.
The first two – similar in size and shape and with matching leaf-beards, though one wielded a broadsword while the other a great axe – charged straight ahead, slicing their weapons in wide arcs around them that took out dozens of cultists at once. The third tree – the root-beard, my most trusted ally that I had summoned both against Vincenius and Sheoldred – followed suit, reaching down with his impossibly thick arms to swipe even more of them away. With every step he took, he crushed still more beneath his boulder-like feet.
Suddenly, there was a great metallic screech, and a familiar voice let out a whoop that echoed across the chamber.
“Alright, let’s see how you bastards like some modified Phyrexian artifice!”
When I took a brief moment to glance up, my jaw nearly dropped – For now, skittering its way through the sea of bodies toward where Jace and I fought, was none other than Venser’s psychosis crawler. The artificer himself was seated atop some contraption that he had built onto its back, and he didn’t even have to move a muscle to urge it forward. It followed his every unspoken command, and each time any of the cultists drew too near, they fell to the floor in a fit of seizing and screaming, instantly. Like clockwork. Incredulity flooded me for a moment as I wondered how the crawler could possibly be debilitating those people so easily – but then I remembered its malfunctioning back in Venser’s workshop, and the brief assault that it had visited upon my ears. I imagined what that assault must be like when directed straight into a mind, and I winced.
“Venser!” I cried, though I knew that it would prove redundant. I had three towering sentinels to alert him to my position, but I felt compelled to say something nevertheless. “This way!”
The artificer laughed, and even from this distance I could see the boyish grin that split his face as he charged closer. “No need to worry, Rana, I see you both.” Despite the din, his voice came out loud and sharp and clear. “Just hold tight!”
My tree’s great wooden broadsword carved a path through the cultists with a single stroke, and I darted into the gap before it had time to close. Mana churned between my fingertips, so thick that I could almost feel it tangibly. My running steps came at a faster pace. “I’m holding as best I can!”
Before I could make my way closer to Venser and his crawler, though, a horrible keening roar stopped me dead in my tracks.
RANEWEN!
Jace’s voice came screaming into my head in time with the buffeting rush of air above me that sent me falling, tumbling helpless to my knees. I grunted and rolled. With a thought, before I had even hit the ground, I pleaded for my trees to come to me, and they did – Swiftly, they formed a protective circle around me, fighting back the cultists that still struggled to reach me and to cleave my head from my shoulders.
When I had a moment to look up and see what in the nine hells had caused that wind, my heart thudded to a halt.
There, banking and curving as it glided toward the far end of the chamber, was a monstrously large, bat-winged, glistening-scaled dragon. Beyond it, atop the same statue where Venser had perched, now stood Alanor, fists raised to the air as deep red mana flared between them and then out to the body of the great beast. It bathed both summoner and summoned in an angry glow of light.
My breath escaped my lips in a hoarse squeak.
“Ranewen!” Jace cried, aloud this time, and my gaze flicked between the legs of my treefolk to find him just a short distance away, trading blows with two blade-wielding humans – the only ones who weren’t either ensnared by his illusions, or caught up in battle against the two cerulean drakes he had summoned. I could see the layers of his leather cut in several places, and bright red blood dripped from his wounds. My gut twisted. “Ranewen,” he yelled again, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second, “just get to Venser and get the hells out of here! There is no way we can fight off that…nngh…!” He flinched as the blade of his opponent’s sword skimmed over an already-open arm wound, and I gasped, “…that damn dragon! Venser can come back for me, but you’ve got to get out of here first!”
“Are you kidding?!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I shook my head vehemently, and felt a sickening curl of dread as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the beast turn about-face. It snapped its jaws, and I could see muscles tensing beneath its scales as it prepared to soar straight back toward us. “Jace, are you an idiot? Look at you! There is no way you can hold your own against all these people, and Alanor, and that dragon!” I slammed my fist into the ground, and a burst of dark mana hissed up around it, curving into tendrils of smoke before my eyes. My temper flared. I relished in the abrupt sound of wood crunching bone as some foolish cultist tried to pass through my wall of tree protectors, and got cracked hard across the chest for his trouble. “We’re leaving together, dammit, or we’re not leaving at all!”
Jace chuckled. “Stupid.” He ducked beneath one opponent’s blade and spun, delivering a brutal blow across the chest of the other that sent him toppling backwards until his head hit the stone floor. Jace kept on spinning, swinging his blade in a wide, controlled arc, until it lodged tightly into the ribcage of the other man, who didn’t even have time to react. The mage yanked his weapon free, and the man dropped to the ground beside his companion with a gurgle. With the back of his free hand, Jace wiped a trickle of blood from his lips. “But if I may say so, very you.”
I wanted to ask him what that was supposed to mean, but I was distracted by the deafening roar of the dragon as it flattened its limbs to its body, and then pushed off from the wall with one powerful wingstroke.
“Look out!” Venser yelled.
It was too little too late, unfortunately.
I didn’t even have the time to conjure a simple mana barrier before it felt as if my entire body were awash in fire – and indeed, it was.
I screamed as the dragon’s breath licked across every inch of me, and before I could grasp onto enough white mana for a pain-dulling spell, my body began to spasm uncontrollably, in agony. It took every single shred of composure I still had to conjure a mass of vines to wrap around me and smother the flames, and even though I did it quickly enough to prevent any truly severe burns…Oh, dear spirits. I couldn’t even comprehend how much it hurt. I could do nothing but lay there, sucking in racking, heaving breaths as tears rolled down my cheeks and stung against the peeling flesh, and I didn’t even have the strength to lift my head and look around. It had all happened so fast. The only things that hovered before my blurred vision now were the charred remnants of my trees, having fallen to ash around me even as their deeper essence dissipated to rejoin the aether from whence it came.
The smell of charred flesh reached my nostrils. I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to prevent myself from being violently sick.
But then, before I even knew what was happening – much less respond – I felt something hard and sharp close around my torso.
I was lifted roughly up into the air, and panic tore at me in the instant I understood.
The dragon had seized me in its claws.
Adrenaline surged through my veins as the floor disappeared beneath me and I was borne higher and higher, until I could see Jace still struggling to hold back wave after wave of cultists, and Venser on his crawler still tearing through the crowd. They were both looking up at me intermittently, and I heard both of their voices cry out my name, but neither of those things really registered. What did, however, was the way Jace was now gripping his sword with two hands and panting as blood rolled down his leathers, and the harsh grinding sounds that Venser’s crawler emitted as more and more cultists threw off its psychic assault and launched themselves at it. They hacked into its spiderlike legs with their weapons, and I saw the machine emit a large cloud of steam. It jerked, sending the artificer nearly tumbling out of his already-precarious seat.
“Damn it all to hells,” I whispered.
All of these thoughts only took a few split seconds to flash through my mind, but when I came back to reality it was as harsh as being jolted out of a dream.
I heard a mad roar of triumph from across the chamber, and I caught a glimpse of Alanor’s cloak billowing out about him as he stood wreathed in a maelstrom of black and red mana, before I realized what was about to happen.
Doing as I had done before, I conjured a thick armor of vines to wind and harden around my body – and not a moment too soon, because an instant later the dragon hurled me straight out and into the chamber’s stone wall.
I felt limp, boneless, as my completely encased self slid down and onto the floor. When my body finally rolled to a halt, I shuddered, and let out a plaintive sob that I didn’t have the will to hold back. I could hear the clattering and the clamor of battle around me. It was distant, muffled, but I could hear the bloodlust in the echoing cries, and then one of my companion’s yells of alarm being cut off, and...it all scared me more than anything. More than my own predicament. I wanted this to all just stop.
I couldn’t deny being afraid for myself, however, because I knew that if I let go of the hold I had on my spell, the dragon would tear me to pieces in an instant. I wouldn’t have time to go on the offensive. Not even a moment.
With a silent prayer for help, I put everything I had into strengthening that spell.
When the dragon lifted me up again and exhaled its fire on me anew, I screamed at the top of my lungs, as the tightly woven vines trapped and intensified the heat until it felt as if my body were blistering, bubbling and boiling and turning to liquid.
“Noooooo,” I wailed. I was a child again, a helpless, terrified girl pleading desperately for her mother. It hurts. It hurts. Please no, it hurts. Make it stop. I writhed uncontrollably, feeling my shell protest against the movements, which only made it hurt worse. “Help me, oh spirits, please, aaahhhhhh---!”
The dragon tore at me, clawed at me, sank its teeth into the heavy layer of plant matter that separated me from an instant’s gruesome death, and then finally spat me out hard onto the ground when it must have realized that its tactics weren’t working.
I couldn’t move an inch in my leafy prison. I could do nothing but shake, and breathe hard, and cry. I could feel my connection with the mana lines coursing into me begin to fade, and my heart pounded hard against my chest as I watched them go.
Jace, I thought, as I tasted the salt and blood of a tear that had made its way to my lips. The inside of my armor positively reeked with my blood, and I felt as if I were going to drown in the scent alone of the heady substance. Venser. Please…
…get out of here.
I could keep a hold on my spell no longer. I didn’t want to let go, I desperately didn’t want to, and every fiber of my being screamed out at me to hold on if I gave a damn whether I lived or died, but…I could do nothing else. I just didn’t have the strength.
I released my grip.
The vines disappeared in a matter of seconds, and I lay on my back now, staring up into the dragon’s blindingly yellow eyes as it lifted me up on a single talon, gingerly, with what I could almost call tenderness.
Then it snarled, and with abrupt and brutal force, it threw me once more against the chamber wall.
I heard my skull crack against the cold stone.
Blood began to rush down my face like a river.
RANEWEN! DAMMIT, NO! Jace’s voice came into my mind then, screaming but yet sounding as far away as I knew my home of Zendikar to be. Or at least, what was left of it.
As I peeled away from the wall and fell, my vision stayed long enough for me to catch a glimpse of him – being forced to the ground beneath the press of two dozen bodies, his sword clattering to the stone as it was yanked from his hands. A swift gust of air blew everyone back for a moment, away from his form...but only for a moment. In that brief time I could see the mage laying on his back, still, save for the trembling rise and fall of his chest as he strained to breathe. He was covered in blood.
Beyond him, I saw Venser standing straight up in the chair of his crawler, fists clenched at his sides as his eyes locked on me and he, too, screamed my name. He didn’t seem to care that his machine was crumpling beneath him, at last quelled by the might of an endless sea of cultists.
Then I saw nothing more. I could only hear and feel as my legs hit the ground, and snapped like twigs beneath me.
I heard the dragon then, too, rumbling and letting out a long, loud roar that echoed in tune with the same victorious howl of its master.
I guess this is the last time I have to go through this, then. My thoughts floated, as dissipate as fog beneath the dappled sunlight that poked through the canopy of the jaddi-trees. Or had, once. Maybe I would see my old home again, in a short while. Alive, and vibrant. Just the way I remembered it. No more waking up safe and sound.
A shudder ran through my body, and then nothing seemed to hurt anymore. Even as I felt the dragon’s weight part the air as it rushed down toward me, I welcomed the release.
I’m really going to die.
“NO!”
A loud pop rang in my ears, so jarring that I found myself opening my eyes, forcing them to see from whence the sound had come.
To my utmost surprise – and horror – I saw Venser crouched over me, arms spread out to his sides as a shimmering barrier formed a wide dome around us both.
No, I thought weakly, save yourself. Get out of here.
But of course he couldn’t hear me. He wasn’t Jace the telepath. He was an artificer, and now Venser the artificer grunted as the dragon crashed headfirst into the barrier, and reared back on its hind legs. The beast screeched. Venser staggered.
I couldn’t speak, but I desperately wanted to. A sob built in my broken chest to somehow make its way up and out past the blood that poured from my mouth. You’re not supposed to die with me, dammit, I would have said. The artificer’s face turned to me, pale, and he reached down to brush a gentle hand against my cheek. It shook. I wanted to fling him away, to yell at him and shake him by the shoulders, no matter how much that simple gesture did comfort me – anything that would get him away from here, and danger. Away from me. You have to save yourself…save Jace…
But as if he had read my mind he leaned in and spoke, his fingertips digging into my skin as the dragon threw itself against the barrier once more.
“I’m not,” he whispered harshly, even as the ground beneath us shook, “leaving you.” Bits of stone broke off from the ceiling above us, and made sharp skittering sounds as they fell and bounced off of the barrier. When Venser opened his mouth again, I could hear something in his voice tearing at the edges. “So don’t you dare die on me, Rana.”
The dragon screeched again as it prepared for another strike, and all I could muster was another desperate sob. I couldn’t look away from Venser’s brown eyes, from the mixture of emotions that I was so far from being able to grasp as I hovered here, now, impossibly aware, on the edge of life and death.
But just before the creature came crashing down on us both, there was a flash of brilliant white light.
This is it, I thought. This must be what it’s like to die.
Venser fell back onto his knees. Had I been able, I would have let out a cry. I felt the overwhelming sensation of white mana as it poured out from somewhere and into everywhere, and filled the entire chamber with its resonating strength.
There was a bone-chilling, wordless shout – a war cry. Steel rang like a bell, and I was reminded of the many steeples and belfries that I had come to know already, in my short time that I had spent here in Ravnica. I was vaguely aware of a smile, spreading unbidden across my lips. There were screams.
I drifted.
When I became aware again, I felt a warmth – a sensation akin to being cradled against someone’s chest, in arms that were at once strong and gentle. Whoever held me did so with such a featherlight touch that I felt as if I were floating – or perhaps, it was that I simply couldn’t feel anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised. I didn’t feel pain.
I could feel a different warmth too, now – that same radiance of white mana that had overwhelmed me before. Whether it had been seconds or hours ago, I didn’t know. I didn’t care to know. I was so tired.
“Who…are you?” Venser’s voice came from above me, incredulous, and that was the last thing I heard before I let go, and slipped away into the arms of blissful nothingness.
I wondered vaguely whether I would wake up in the end or not.
And as far as Jace and Venser go, I just try to give them credit where credit is due! Haha.
My bet is this turns out to be a Planar Chaos-esque setting and it's actually white Bolas
An excellent chapter, I can't wait to see how it continues.
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
Untrophied Wins:
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Perhaps! Who can say? It's a mystery!
But seriously, thank you! This chapter was rather a lot of fun to write, so I'm glad you liked it.
From Japan with love \('-'*)
Ooooh, I like your thinking! I guess you'll have to wait and see for sure, though...
Venser take a ride in Psychosis Crawler is an interesting idea. Even though Phyrexian machine, its pathetically sincere loyalty to him.
Well as you were saying, I'm glad to see Jace accustomed to wielding Kallist's sword
I'm really can't wait for next!
From Japan with love \('-'*)
I just got back from a weekend out of town, during which I had absolutely zero time to write. So Chapter 20 will be up by Wednesday (I'd rather take a bit extra time to make it good than rush all day today and only crank out something mediocre...plus, I'm in dire need of some sleep). Hope that's okay with everyone!
Cheers,
Anaithnid
- Velus, Synod artificer
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
Untrophied Wins:
Perfect MCC Scores: 2
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On a related note, Chapter 21 will, indeed, be up on Monday (as usual)!
Chapter 20:
Contrary to my expectation, I did, in fact, wake up.
“Rana?”
I groaned. My eyelids were still closed, but I could see the shadows of movement beyond them, dark against a curtain of red. Little multicolored dots danced in whatever it was I could call my field of vision.
“Rana, can you hear me?”
“Mmmmn.”
Whoever my conversation partner was, they chuckled. No – he. I was too disoriented still to recognize who he was, though I felt like I should.
Oh.
“V…Ven…ser?”
Now I recognized the quiet rumble of the artificer’s voice. He was laughing, gently. “Well, now I know for sure you’re feeling better. You called me by my full name this time!”
Huh? My eyes slid open a crack, and I saw his brown ones – clear and bright – gazing down at me from the edge of my bed. My bed? I’m back in the compound? He brushed a bit of hair out of his face as he leaned over, and he smiled. Despite the welcome sight though, I groaned again.
“Whazza supposta mean?” I slurred. Clearly, my tongue wasn’t quite prepared for function after what felt like so long a rest. I didn’t know how long I had really been out, but it felt like an absolute eternity.
Venser leaned in a little closer, and as sensation slowly began to return I realized that one of his hands was reaching up to press something cool and wet against my forehead. The touch of it tingled, and even in my groggy stupor I recognized the sensation to be mana.
“When you were out,” the artificer said, matter-of-factly, as he procured a small bottle from somewhere at his waist, “you would respond to me, sometimes.” His smile turned into a crooked grin as he took out the stopper and poured a few drops onto his index finger, which he pressed for a brief moment between my eyebrows. When he pulled it back, a strange warmth spread from the spot. I blinked. “You always called me Ven, though. You only really gave one-syllable responses, so honestly, that was the best I could ask for.” He recorked the bottle and slipped it back into what I now saw to be a satchel at his belt, overflowing with herbs and vials and spirits knew what else. When he turned back to me, he was positively beaming. “But it sounds like you’re doing much better now!”
I laughed. The sound came out like a hoarse, breathy rasp – but still, it was better than nothing. “I…like that.” I coughed once then, despite my marked improvement in speech, and the motion sent a knife of pain through my chest. Venser scrunched up his brow in concern, but I shook my head to indicate that I was fine. He seemed to relax. “I-It’s…ngh…it’s cute. You don’t…have a nickname, and you gave me one, so…why not?”
Venser’s cheeks reddened. I wanted to giggle, seeing as how I must have injured his masculine pride by referring to him with such a feminine word, but I wasn’t sure if my muscles would be able to manage that. I settled for a grin instead.
“I guess it’s only fair,” the artificer said. He bowed his head a little, and reached up to comb his fingers through his hair as, at last, he grinned in return. “I’ll just have to get used to it, then, huh?”
I nodded. “Mm.” There was a pause as my gaze skimmed past him and out to the rest of the room, which, to my surprise, now held a long table in one corner that was covered from end to end in…well, in what I could best describe as a small laboratory. Bottles lined the whole back of the table, in all shapes and sizes, and filled with many different colors of liquids. Small boxes of herbs and other dry ingredients were stacked on both of the table’s sides, and in the center there stood several metal contraptions the likes of which I had never seen before, with the only one I recognized being a mortar and pestle set made of smooth black stone. Papers were strewn all about the workspace, and a quill pen stood upright in an inkwell off to one side. I felt my head tilt in a gesture of confusion, and I turned to look at Venser.
“What is all that?” I asked. My voice had almost returned to normal by now, though my tongue still felt a little thick. I managed a chuckle. “You didn’t find it stashed away in some secret compartment of my closet, did you?”
Venser sighed. “Ah…no, unfortunately. That would have been way more convenient. Some of it’s mine, and the rest is borrowed from Vincenius. I told you he was teaching me alchemy, didn’t I?”
“I think so.” I took in the array once more with a growing curiosity. “Why did you bring it all here? Need to practice since you’ve been away for awhile?”
The artificer laughed lightly. He shifted a little, and the bed squeaked underneath his weight. “No, though I’m sure Doc would appreciate the sentiment.” Now he was the one to tilt his head as he regarded me, and he smiled. “Rana, you know I don’t know any healing magic, right? All that is what I’ve been using to take care of you.”
My face flushed a bright red before I could stop it. Take care of me? But that means… “Ven, you’ve…” I paused for a moment. Even though I had just dubbed him with that nickname, it felt perfectly natural on my tongue, and for whatever reason that flustered me. I shook my head. “Why have you been doing that? How long have I even been out?”
He shrugged. “A week and a half, about. And what else could I do? I wasn’t just going to leave you here with all your injuries untended.”
My blush deepened. A week and a half? He’s been taking care of me for that long? I felt the dire need to protest. “But what about Vincenius? Getting him would’ve saved you all that time---”
But Venser shook his head. “No. I thought about it, but he’s been incredibly busy lately – When I went back to make sure I had everything, I found out there was another raid on the camp shortly after we came to Ravnica. Doc’s been busy tending to the injured, and knowing him, he probably hasn’t gotten any sleep in days. I knew I could deal with your injuries on my own, so I just borrowed what stuff I needed from him and left. I’m sure he won’t mind. He said I could use it if I ever needed to.”
I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t stop the heat that had spread so quickly and so unexpectedly across my cheeks, so I just tried my best to ignore it. “I can’t believe it. You really didn’t have to do all that for me, Ven…”
“Of course I did!” I looked up, startled to find the artificer significantly closer to my face now. He had the same little bottle from before in his hands, and he was leaning in to press his finger on my brow, above both eyes. It was hot, but this time I could feel mana as it coursed into me, along my nerves and down my spine. “Stop acting like you’re not worth my time, Rana. I’m not going to have any of that.” Finished, he pulled back and smiled. This expression held no less warmth than any of his others, but for whatever reason, I felt something in my chest stutter a little when I met it. “I had the skills to help you, and I used them. I’m going to keep using them, too, up until you’re fully healed.”
I realized that he wasn’t going to budge from his point, so I sighed and allowed myself to lean back against my pillows. My hair splayed out all around my head, but I didn’t care enough to fix it. “Fine. I give. You win.” I noted out of the corner of my eye when his smile morphed itself into a wry grin, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt my own smile coming on, unbidden. “But…thank you, Ven. I don’t really remember much of what happened, but I’m grateful that it’s you who’s taking care of me.”
Venser flushed again. I wanted to giggle. He was…cute, when he was embarrassed.
Wait…what?
“Uh…” He reached up to muss his hair a little. “Well, you’re, ah…you’re welcome.” He was looking down at his knees now, but it wasn’t enough to hide the fact that his grin had broadened. “It’s what I do.”
There didn’t seem to be more to say, so for a moment I simply lied there, still and warm and comfortable beneath all my blankets - and despite the fact that my body felt weaker than I had ever remembered it, I couldn’t feel any pain. Whatever Venser had concocted up to numb me, it was working like a charm. “What all of me is hurt, anyway?”
“Hm?” Venser looked up and blinked, as if slipping out of a daze. “Oh. Well, your skull was cracked open, which is why you lost so much blood at first. That’s mostly healed, though – I put the majority of my effort toward getting that to repair itself, since I figured that was the most dangerous.” Frowning in concentration, he began to count off my injuries on his fingers. “Both your legs are broken, which is what’s keeping you bedridden for so long. The first layer of your skin was badly burned, and you had all kinds of minor scratches and bruises everywhere on your body.” Abruptly, he blushed. “Uh…mostly on your torso, so if you feel any soreness there, it’s probably because they’re scarring over. I let those heal on their own – I just put a poultice on them to prevent infection.”
I tried to move my legs. I could do it, but the flare of pain that accompanied the motion was a strong deterrent from trying again. I winced. “That’s…” I gasped, trying to fight back the wave of nausea that swiftly followed in the wake of my discomfort. “That’s…a lot to work with.”
Venser laughed nervously. “Yeah. It is, but like I said, it’s mostly your legs that are the trouble. Everything else is either healed or healing.” He stood up to procure a tiny vial with some pale blue liquid from the table, which he came back over and handed to me. I took it, examining the contents with a careful eye. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with your stomach.” I trusted him, so I did. The stuff was a little hard to swallow, but it didn’t taste unpleasant – like milk mixed with honey water, oddly enough. I felt a tickle in the back of my throat once I had gulped it down, and I was about to ask him if that was a normal side effect when a thought inched its way into my mind and gave me pause.
Blue…
Suddenly, my heart stopped. All the questions that had been bubbling on my tongue, of how Venser and I had gotten out of the damn tunnels alive in the first place, or what it was that had saved us, or what had happened to Alanor and the cult, were crushed beneath the weight of my newfound panic.
“Jace,” I gasped, jerking forward to take hold of the artificer’s arm. My movement was so sudden that it must have startled him, because he flinched, and his eyes went wide. “Venser, where is he? Where’s Jace? What happened to him?!”
“Calm down, Rana,” he said, tone dropping to a comforting rumble as he placed both of his hands overtop mine. Despite the touch, my heartbeat picked up instead of slowed down. “He’s fine. He’s over in…Ovitzia, I think it was ? He’s visiting some healer friend of his. He said that if she ever found out he got hurt and didn’t come straight to her, she’d kill him. Considering all that, I’d say he’s in considerably better shape than you.”
Even as relief washed over me, my heart sank. She? “Oh.” I let my hand slip from Venser’s arm, but he kept ahold of it even so, until my breathing slowed and I allowed my shoulders to slump. “Well, that’s…that’s a relief to hear. Sorry for freaking out.” I shook my head, and took a deep breath in an attempt to relax. It didn’t work. Well, at least I tried. “How did we even get back here, anyway? I thought for sure that I was dead. I’d lost so much blood…”
Venser hesitated, exhaling deeply as he shrugged. “You did, but…well…” He bit his lower lip. “Akroma was able to stop it in time. She stopped your body from going into shock, too.”
Who? I wanted to ask, but before I could even open my mouth there was a clattering to my right, and I turned my head to see an exquisitely beautiful woman leaning against the doorframe, gold and turquoise-encrusted wings framing a cascade of violet hair. She shifted in position and crossed her arms over her chest, causing the sword at her back to make the same clattering sound from before as it bounced against her equally-adorned armor.
My jaw dropped.
An…angel?!
“Unfortunately,” she spoke, voice rich and resonant, “I could not do more at the time.” She bowed her head a little as she regarded me, but I could only stare back at her in complete wonderment. I might have been embarrassed of my behavior, had I been in less of a state of shock. “I had already expended a great deal of mana destroying the cult leader and his summon, and healing magic has never been my specialty. As such, I left the task of your recovery to this young man here.”
“I…” I couldn’t think of what to say. A million thoughts were racing through my mind as I met her eyes, which seemed to shift color from green to blue to violet to black, then even to a shimmering gold. “You…you killed Alanor?”
“Beheaded him,” Venser whispered, leaning in close. “One clean stroke.” I winced, and he nodded sympathetically. “The rest of the cultists fled the second they saw it.”
Across from us, Akroma stood tall and nodded.
“He and his forces were causing harm to the man who summoned me, and to his allies,” she said simply. She raised one gauntleted hand as she spoke, and for a moment I marveled at how white and pristine her armor was. It nearly glittered with a light of its own. “You were at a disadvantage, and all three of you were close to death. I saw no other option. I had to kill him.”
“We thank you for that,” Venser murmured. He seemed to sense that I was still processing what she had said, and so he bowed his head to the angel respectfully, as she had done. One hand lifted off of mine to curl into a fist and clap firmly against his heart. “It’s true – You did save our lives, when you intervened back there. We’re all in your debt, Akroma.”
She nodded, and to my surprise I saw a hint of a smile touch the corners of her lips. “No,” she said softly, “it is I who am in your debt. I have been given new life thanks to your companion. As he regards you in high esteem, so too shall I. My sword is yours to command should you wish it.”
Though I wasn’t sure how to go about dispensing pleasantries when it came to an angel, I couldn’t hold back my question any longer. It was about ready to burst through my rib cage. “Akroma,” I said, leaning forward as much as I could without causing any pain in my legs, “what do you mean, ‘your summoner?’ Who are you talking about?”
“Ah.” The angel uncrossed her arms, slowly, and a genuine smile began to spread across her face. “I apologize. I suppose I should explain.” Gently, she cleared her throat. “The summoner I speak of is your Jace Beleren.” At those words I swallowed hard, and I noticed that she was looking directly at me now, eyes sharp. My cheeks heated for what felt like the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes. My Jace? “Long ago, my first master Ixidor shaped me into being in a dream, without his own knowledge. His grief for his lost wife was so great, and his will and command of mana so strong, that I simply manifested as flesh – a whole being. I passed long ago, however, and I was unaware that some shred of my consciousness still existed until your battle one week ago. Jace Beleren commands a similar magic to Ixidor, though it is not quite the same – But nevertheless, his desperate grief as he saw his companions fall reached me in whatever place I existed, and I responded to it, likely because I could connect to the tide of mana flowing through him. I have a feeling there is something more to it, but…at this moment, I know not what it is.” She shrugged delicately. “I simply know that I am here now, and that there must be some purpose for my being called back into this world.”
Beside me, Venser let out a quiet sigh. “Huh.” I turned to him, and found him staring intently at Akroma, brow furrowed. He folded his hands together beneath his chin. “Akroma, would I be correct in saying that you were once part of Karona?”
The angel nodded, though she looked a bit taken aback. “You would.”
Venser smiled, and suddenly I noticed a gleam in those brown eyes of his. “Just like Jeska…” There was a pause, and then at last his other hand let go of mine and he sat up, leaning heavily against his knees. His gaze continued to bore a hole through Akroma’s. “Well, I have a theory. It’s a little far-fetched, but I think it has some merit.”
Akroma tilted her head. A flicker of amusement crossed her porcelain face. “Go on.”
“My theory,” Venser began, leaning forward, “is that you, too, have a planeswalker spark now. Not like Urza or anyone like him, but…like mine. Like Jace’s and Rana’s.” His gaze flicked to me briefly, and I gave him a look that made clear my confusion as to what was going on – but to my dismay, he simply winked in response. When he looked away, I realized that there was something fluttering in my chest, and I briefly wondered whether or not my fractured skull had been accompanied by any brain trauma.
“Jeska was a part of Karona too, as Phage,” the artificer continued. “When she was reborn as her original self, she was Jeska Planeswalker. She said that she didn’t understand how it had happened, but then again, do any of us really know much about the spark? I know I don’t.” He paused for a moment, and then suddenly he inhaled sharply, eyes widening. His face erupted in a grin. Clearly, he had just thought of something important. “It fits, too! Your spark could have provided that extra tether to our world that allowed you to latch onto Jace, and use his mana to pull you back into existence!”
Though Akroma was skilled at keeping her expression neutral, I caught one brief instant where her own eyes widened, and she leaned forward from the doorframe. “I see what you are saying,” she said, her voice a thoughtful murmur. “You are right. It is far-fetched – but yet, it makes sense.”
Venser nodded eagerly. “I wouldn’t go rushing headlong into the Blind Eternities anytime soon, but I certainly think it’s worth giving some thought.”
The angel nodded. “Yes. Indeed I will, Venser. I thank you.”
The artificer blushed, and I smiled as I saw the redness spread all the way up to his ears. Dammit, why am I smiling at him so much?! “You’re more than welcome,” he said quietly.
When Akroma’s gaze shifted smoothly to me, I straightened up without even realizing what I was doing. Her presence was so commanding that the motion was almost an instinctual response, as was the way I sucked in my breath and held it tight.
“What are you going to do now?” I found myself asking, before blinking in surprise at the words that had come out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it – beneath my veneer of reverence, I was genuinely curious. What could such a creature like her – a radiant, potential-planeswalker angel, something I had never even dreamed of meeting – possibly have in mind as far as her goals went? Did she want to lead armies to victory in glorious battle? Did she want to serve as the vanguard in some all-out effort to save to world, a beacon of hope and light for all the people she commanded? Would she, perhaps, be willing to help us in our fight, and to save my home plane from complete consumption?
“Me?” The angel smiled, and I could feel its warmth from all the way across the room. “As I told you, I am in your debt. Until the day that Jace Beleren dismisses me, I will fight for whatever cause he allies himself to, and I will protect those he holds dear so long as I am able.”
I blinked. Wait. Could it…really be that easy? “Did Jace tell you about what we’re all planning to do? Is that why you’re sticking with him?”
She shook her head, and I watched as one lustrous strand of hair tumbled down and into her face. My breath caught in my throat at the sight, and I wondered how a single living being could possibly be so beautiful. “No,” she said, eyes meeting mine for one brief, charged second. “He has not.”
“But I do believe there is plenty of time for the three if you to fill me in, yes?”
***
It took nearly two more weeks for me to fully regain the use of my legs, but it was two weeks well spent.
Whenever plans weren’t being discussed and battles recounted with Akroma, I was simply spending time with Venser – which, not in the least to my surprise, was always enjoyable. No matter how dark the circles under the artificer’s eyes grew, or how long I heard him tinkering away at his makeshift desk in the opposite corner of the room as I slipped beneath the cloak of sleep, he never failed to greet me with a warm smile.
One morning I awoke to find him fast asleep in a chair beside my bed, a vial rolling in one open palm and a thick strip of leather tightly clutched in the other. I didn’t have the heart to wake him, so I simply reclined against my pillows until he did on his own, and tried not to smile too big when he yawned and stretched his arms high above his head.
“This is for you,” he said sleepily, once he had roused himself enough, and then he handed me the strip of leather. When I turned it over, I realized that it was an armband – carved all around both edges with a tiny, intricate leaf pattern, so small that at first I wondered if I hadn’t imagined it. My heart leapt at the sight.
“You need something to wear Elspeth’s sigil on, don’t you?” His eyelids drooped, but still he smiled at me kindly. When I could only stare at him, mouth slightly agape, he laughed. “Besides, I needed something to pass the time when I’m not talking to you.”
No you don’t, I thought, even as I felt the sudden urge to force the last vial of his sleeping elixir down his throat. Unbidden, I felt a lump forming in my own. You’ve been staying up nearly every night trying to make these potions and poultices and whatever the hells else they are for me, and you’ve worked yourself completely ragged. You didn’t need to pass the time. You need to sleep. You made this because you wanted to…
…for whatever damn reason…
Instead of chastising the artificer, though, I just smiled, and wrapped the warm leather around my upper arm. “Thank you, Ven,” I said. My voice was quieter than usual, but for once, I didn’t ask myself any questions. “It’s…it’s really pretty. I love it.”
“Here, I’ll get that for you,” he said, and he leaned forward to tie the laces snug where my fumbling grasp had failed. I could see that he was beaming. The calluses on his fingers felt rough when they brushed against my skin, but…in truth, it wasn’t a bad feeling. His touch was gentle. I assumed it was from years and years of working with small, delicate, breakable things – a category which, apparently, a woman like me could be counted among.
When did I start thinking about stuff like this? I wondered, even as I fought back the blush that threatened to give away my sentimentality.
***
When the two weeks had at last drawn to a close, I was well enough to be walking on my own again, though I still needed Venser’s help to make my way up and down the stairs.
I put the majority of my weight against his shoulder now as I swung myself out and down, hovering over the next step for a moment before I finally alighted.
“Better!” the artificer exclaimed. His arm around me squeezed lightly, and he grinned. I turned to him and returned the expression. “Next time try not to lean on me so much, but still, that was definitely an improvement!”
My laugh then came out more like a snort. I didn’t care enough to be embarrassed, though. “I’m sure my tribe would’ve just loved to see me like this, huh? One of their best and brightest hunters, needing the arm of a big strong man to help me climb down twenty feet – Spirits, I’d be laughed out of the home tree!”
Venser chuckled, and helped hoist me a little as I hobbled my way down the next two steps. “Well then, I would have to teleport up there and yell at them until they personally dragged you back and apologized. I can see a little teasing about one broken leg, but two?” His eyes shone as they held mine. “Now that’s just downright mean.”
The ceiling lowered over my head as we passed into the common room landing, and I was about to open my mouth to respond when suddenly my eye caught a glimpse of bright blue – which, when I paused and looked again, revealed itself to be a familiar tattered cloak. My heart skipped a beat.
“Jace!” I cried, and made to jump down the last three stairs before Venser caught me and held me back, keeping me from tumbling flat on my face. I nearly laughed aloud at my own stupidity.
“Ranewen,” the mage breathed. He set down the book he was perusing and swept to his feet in one quick motion, his cloak billowing out around him. When his gaze fell on mine, my breath caught in my throat at the emotion in those blue eyes. For a moment – just one – I caught their profound relief before something in them shifted and they became inscrutable again, but it was enough. Jace made his way over toward the two of us, and I had to resist the urge to launch myself at him and hug him until he passed out. Having been worried sick about him for the past two weeks, it was more than a little difficult.
“Venser,” he said, smiling warmly at the artificer as we descended the last stair and he came to stand in front of us. “It’s really good to see the two of you alright.”
“A little less than alright,” I corrected, sticking out the better of my two legs, “but I’m getting there.”
Jace’s eyes widened for an instant, but then he relaxed, and shook his head. He chuckled. “Well, it’s better than dead, that’s for sure.” There was a pause, and then the small smile faded from his face as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a concerned frown. “I…thought you were dead for awhile, Rana. You have no idea how relieved I was when Akroma told me you were safe…”
My heart nearly stopped outright this time. Rana. He used my nickname. I shook my own head, vehemently, and now that I wasn’t on the stairs anymore I pulled gently free of Venser and took a step closer to the mage. It was more like a shuffle, in truth, but I managed. “Well then, how do you think I felt? The last thing I see of you is you lying on the ground, bloody, in the middle of a circle of cultists – and then when we make it out of everything alive, I don’t get to see you for three weeks!”
“Two,” Venser corrected from behind me. I didn’t turn around to see his face, but his tone clearly held a hint of amusement. “You were mostly unconscious for the first one, if you remember.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help my grin. “Right. Whatever. Two weeks.” I lifted my gaze to meet Jace’s again, and when he held it unwaveringly I felt my heartbeat pick up to doubletime. “All that time, I have no idea how you’re doing, or even where you are, really. I have no clue where Ovitzia is.” I folded my arms over my chest with a huff. “So you’re not going to get any sympathy complaining to me, got it? And I mean it, too.”
Jace barked out a short laugh. He smiled, and the expression quickly spread all the way up to the corners of his eyes as they bunched. “Right. Sure. I’ll just, uh…pretend I believe you, okay?” But before I could protest – or even respond – he reached out to pull me into a hug, warm and welcome and friendly, and I found it very hard to breathe. The gesture drew a small squeak from me before I could stop it. Suddenly, I was very sure that Jace could hear my now-frantic heartbeat. Great.
I wasn’t one to complain, though, so it didn’t take long for me to relax and melt into the embrace.
The only thing that stopped me from doing so completely, however, was the strange sensation that I felt when Jace’s right arm wrapped itself around my back.
I laughed gently as he pulled away a moment later, keeping his hands on my shoulders to hold me out at arm’s length. “What, are you wearing armor beneath that glove now?” Even with the fabric covering it, his touch had felt…different – smooth, and strangely hard. It felt as if he had on some sort of metal gauntlet beneath the glove, which he always wore all the way up his right arm. Or perhaps he had injured his hand worse than Venser had admitted, and it was some sort of rehabilitative brace. The latter thought sent a pang of sympathy straight through my gut.
“Ah.” Jace’s voice had dropped at least an octave, and now instead of its previous cheer, his tone held only…anxiety. I furrowed my brow as I looked at him, puzzled. All he could do was shake his head and sigh.
“I figured this would come up eventually, but not so soon. …Damn.”
“What?” I asked.
Behind me, Venser’s breath hitched. This time I turned to look at the artificer, and his eyes were wide. A chill of dread rolled down my spine. “Don’t tell me…”
“Yeah.” Jace chuckled, ruefully, and began to peel off his glove. “I won’t tell, I’ll show.”
He let the fabric fall to the floor, and then when he pushed up his sleeve with his other hand, I gasped.
There, in the place of his flesh-and-blood arm, was a twisting amalgamation of metal and mana, the dull grey alloy glowing blue under its own light source. His metal fingertips came to points at the ends of long, thick strands of more metal, and as I stared in a mix of horror and fascination he wiggled them, like any normally accoutered person might do.
I couldn’t speak, so fortunately Venser came to stand by my side and do it for me. As he, too, stared, he shook his head in disbelief.
“I think you have some explaining to do, Jace,” he said quietly.
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
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Plus, it's a challenge for me to incorporate them in writing. And I'm always up for a challenge!
Now that I can relate with. It's the reason I enjoy the Custom Cards forum and building esoteric combo decks - the possibility to make people think in new ways and to make a masterpiece from the most awkward constraints (Doubling Season/Opalescence/Followed Footsteps: Priceless).
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
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It's one of the most fun things about being an author, to me. Creating something good (or at least decently so) out of something unexpected and strange is just the best feeling.
On a side note, though, I have to say that there's a little more to Esper!Jace than meets the eye...;)
Akroma...one of my all time fave angels (both in the canon, and as a card) appears, and as a planeswalker! This is too good to be true. And the best part? It does make sense, in a way. Jace is an illusionist, as was Ixidor. If a rush of emotion, unbidded and charged with power could create her, another should be able to give her life again. And besides, who knows how dead she was? Karona was a bit of a mess anyway, so it makes sense that she could be recovered from nothingness.
As an aside...Etherium? Mhm. Seems Jace learned something from ol' Tezzy afterall.
And is that the hint of a love triangle I spy between Jace, Venser, and Rana? Oh I love this alot.
More then worth the wait. I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapters, as always. And, for the record...that cliffhanger from last time? Perfect payoff.
Wooo, that's a relief! I'm glad to hear that you think it made sense. I knew the idea was going to be a bit out there, but I really wanted to try it nevertheless - I just didn't know how well it would be received since I'm starting to dabble in pre-Mending canon, which I'm not as well versed in (yet).
"Learned." Hmmm. In this specific case, a better word might be "acquired..."
Just you wait, my friend. Just you wait...in a few chapters you're either going to love things even more, or you're going to want to mercilessly throttle me. I'm guessing a little of both.
You've got me grinning like a giddy little schoolgirl. Seriously. Thank you so much, Dark Fire - This really made my day!
[Clan Flamingo] Tier Archivist
[15:21] <@CC> Remember, if you argue, you are an idiot.
Untrophied Wins:
Perfect MCC Scores: 2
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