MTG Salvation

Disclaimer:
[Magic: The Gathering] (C) Wizards of the Coast.
I do not own Magic: The Gathering or any of the names which are property there of. I wrote this to express my love for that particular game not to harm it in anyway.

Part 1: Vansan’s Lunacy

Forests of green pastures surrounded everything in sight. Tree’s seem to swirl upward revealing heads full of leaves spreading in all directions’ possible. The sun couldn’t shine through a canopy so thick with greenery, yet all plants and living creatures received it’s glorious rays.
Bears and Lizards, Birds of all assortments and smaller creatures that can’t be seen play in these forests. It’s there home, there land. Rivers run through it all. Serenity seems to pierce all things.
Until a summon calls. It’s usually Beasts of all assortments that leave, but sometimes the sky loving birds go too. All life obey’s the summons.
The great city beyond the huge forest that seems to go on forever is full of hate and cunning. Many people go there. An easy meal can be one. Anyone can get a good nights rest. But what of the people who can’t fight there battles in there giant arena’s? What about the people that can’t teach new spells to Young Adepts or House Masters? What of Vansan, Dreamer of Dreams?
Cabal City isn’t as huge as it appears. It’s mainly full of dirt roads that lead to houses controlled by one of the city’s greater magic wielders. There’s your bed and hot meal in the morning. All for the price of a Pit Fight. The wage on in the inner city like some sort of animal bloodbath. Indeed, it very much is like that. But for the poor souls who can’t fight, they end up like the meals they feed to the summoned animals.
It’s not just the forest that gets summoned to Cabal City, it’s the surrounding plains, islands and mountains. Everyone and everything eventually feels the pull of the city, or they’re summoned there, like everyone else.
Vansan wasn’t a man of royalty. Nor a man of great spells or fighting ability’s. News of his dreams reach to the inner city and even to the Cabal Patriarch, but no one would listen. He told of great power so strong that no plansewalker (if they even existed, he questioned) could match it. They all laughed at him. Head Masters simply threw him onto the streets, while school children cast simple locus spells about him. He headed off to his home, where his Wife would feed him, his children ask of what new trinket he had squandered off some poor soul lesser then themselves.
Tonight he had no trinket, only a silver spoon with the initials K.R., which he believed belonged to his neighbor of three months. He had died a week ago. His valuables still circulating around the city until strangers from far lands would buy them and use them in their odd rituals.
His house was aflamed with smoke and fire. He rushed in to find his Wife on the floor, and his children missing. A portal of light shone through the kitchen, revealing the City Pit where the battles took place. Several men stood before it, laughing as they tossed a few plates and other objects back into the portal, landing inside his house. Vansan checked her pulse, only to find she had a massive blow to the head. He got up, and looked back at the now closing portal. They had summoned her. His wife. Why? He owed them nothing! No one had any grudge against him! Why?
He was answered by a knock at his now burning door. The Cabal Patriarch stood before him, small eyes gleaming. “You shouldn’t spread rumors of such powerful magic, Vansen Haldrid.” He entered the house, letting his outfit (which happened to be a silver silk robe with gold cuffs at the end) catch fire. “But I forgive you.” He laid his hand on Vansan’s shoulder. “I forgive you.” With a thought of the wild forest outside the city, the Patriarch summoned enough power to transport Vansen to the wilderness, with his wife. The house burned a cherry red, and stood far longer then it should have before collapsing.
Vansen let loose tears of sadness above his wife as he inhaled the fresh forest air. He looked into her eyes and saw what she was. A charred beauty not fit for this world. The love of his life taken away for what he had seen. What he knew. He gazed at her body, knowing that he hadn’t the strength to lift her, or to bury her.
He gathered weeds and plants of all sorts about her, laying them like a funeral bed. “Someday.” He said. “Someday they’ll pay. They’ll all pay.”
Vansen headed deeper into the forest, searching for the tallest tree to sleep under. Surly no one would take interest. Surly no being would harm someone that smelled of death.

He was possessed by images he couldn’t control. Of great strength and great creatures. Nothing could stop him. No one. Not even the Cabal Patriarch, who was said to have power older then memory. He crushed the city in his dreams. Giant animals the likes he’d never seen or heard.
The images came every night and soon every day in the morning. He tried to shake them off, make them go away. But they wouldn’t leave. They only intensified when he dunked himself in the forest streams that wined’s through all life. They only stopped when he thought of her. His beloved. He had been in the forest for a long time now. A year? Two? He couldn’t be sure. He only knew that he had never seen his children again, and that no animal had ever come near him.

On the anniversary of his Wife’s death, a being finally came to him. A Centaur the likes of which he’d read about as a child but never saw. Large and strong in all aspects, it lowered it’s hand to him, and lifted him to his back. “Your’ not real!” He shouted at it. He repeated it over and over until he passed out on it’s back. When he awoke, he found himself surrounded by all sorts of the creatures. From the very young to the very old they watched him, with his carrier behind him.
“We sense a trouble in you, forest dweller. For too long you have been with us in the green. Eating our food and using our surroundings as clothing. What have you in return, hm?” Vansen couldn’t be sure which was talking to him. They all had their mouths moving with some motion. “I-I-I..” He started, but couldn’t find words. Was this real? Where these really Centaurs? Creatures that lived in the wood to protect it from strangers and intruders? He rubbed his eyes until they started to blur. His eye’s shiny with wonder and aw. “I have nothing. Nothing. I have nothing.” He started. He tried other words, but he couldn’t make them come out in an audible sentence.
“We know.” The creature from behind him said. “We know why your here, who brought you and why. Now we must know something.”
Vansen glanced around. They all had their unblinking eyes on him.”You, you want to know?”
He raised his hands to his head, poking at it like a strange object. “What’s in here? You want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, yes. Ok. You know. You know.”

He spent a time with the Centaurs. They treated him like family in his lunacy. He wasn’t aware most of the time of anything other then the dreams. Which seemed to be his reality. He was only aware when he was asleep. He would wake and spend time writing down all sorts of symbols and words on the great forest tree’s. All that he had seen during the day and which he could only make sense of at night. All night. When he should have been sleeping. No sleep, no no.
Finally it came to him. One day, when the Centaurs had left him alone in his tree nest he had made for himself. He wasn’t crazy. No. He was sane. Everyone else was crazy.
He jumped from his nest, and landed on soft grass on feet made strong from venturing so long in the green land. He had cracked the code which puzzled him. Why they had taken his wife, children and life away from him to live in this hell of an existence. They were jealous of him! All of them! He knew! He knew what they didn’t! He knew of... What? What did he know? What he had told the Centaurs. The Power. The power that was in us all. The power so great, that no Plansewalker could bear it. No Master Wizard or House Master could understand.
But the Centaurs knew! They knew! They can’t know! Only me! It’s been entrusted to me!I have to protect the information from them! What have I done! Oh my stars what have I done!
Vansen raced through the forest searching. Finding only beasts and birds, small animals and rivers. Where were they? Where would they go?
To the edge.
Yes! To the edge!
He imagined it, so far away. How can I get there? They’ve been gone a long time know. I’d never make it!
“It?” Asked a centaur to his left.
“Huh? What?” Vansen looked around. The forest was behind him. “Where?” He spun around. “How?” He pointed his fingers at all the Centaurs.
“Chief, Vansen is here.” Said the Centaur, calling to a creature in the front.
“Vansen? I thought he was staying in the tree?” He shouted back. But Vansen didn’t hear them. He only saw them for what they were. Crazy. All of them. They only used him. To gain his wisdom of his dreams. They must be stopped. Stopped!
A burst of flame erupted from the ground next to the Chief Centaur, sending him across the ground, lightly on fire. “By the power of-“ The Chief started, but was cut short by a fireball headed to the chest. He burned but for a second, before dying with a giant hole in his chest.
“Ambush! Ambush!” Some of them were yelling. They were frantic, running into the forest. But it wouldn’t help them. No one could help them.
Several screams came a moment later, as they started running out into the clear again. Several wurms of giant size where crushing out. Killing with a bounce, and killing with a bite several Centaurs that were in it’s path.
“It’s a trick!” Shouted one of them. Pointing to the city. “It’s finally happened! The Cabal have broken their Peace Treaty with us! They’ve turned nature against us all!” The Centaur started to the city when it noticed a red light headed his way. Several red lights.
“By the power of the Plansewalker Arma-“ He started, but was blown away like the Chief by a fireball, fallowed by several others.
“Full ahead!” They all started screaming. Running past Vansen and to the city as more red lights in the distance gathered speed. “Attack the City! Attack the City!”
A Centaur (Urganfor’f) picked up Vansen on the way down. “You’ll be safe with me.”
Vansen nodded, and climbed on his back.
“I’m sorry.” Vansen said to no one.
“What?” Shouted the Centaur, grabbing a club off his back for battle.
“I’m sorry.”
Something blurred his vision, a green object that was quite small. A small head. A tiny tail, a green body. The object became clear in Vansen’s vision as it revealed itself to him. A Rootwalla.
It bounced from his face to the Centaurs back, where it crawled up to his head in an instant and bit down on Urganfor’f. Crushing his skull in it’s jaws. Vansen gave a smile as his ride stumbled and fell.
The giant Wurms were coming out of the forest now, almost at a fast pace. The Centaurs were already ahead of them, but a few were behind helping the wounded. They wouldn’t live. Vansens’ ride had plummeted to the ground, smashing it’s chess. Vansen got up unharmed, and let the Rootwalla crawl across the field, trying to snag a Centaur by the foot.
Vansen took out a small knife, and cut open the centaurs back, letting the blood spill in his hands. “I summon thee... “ He started, lifting his hands into the air. “To come up and take all that you deserve.”
Fire rose out of the ground as it did before, but this time more. Lots more. All Centaurs fell. Vansen lifted his head to the sky, and let the air mix with the sulphur to fill his lungs. “Take them all. Take them all...” He drifted in his thoughts as more illusions of fire filled it. Death fallowed. Soon he could see all of what he had been shown. All of his madness in one, comfortable vision.


Part 2: Vansen’s Revenge
He left the Centaurs in their fiery grave of bone and skin. The hillside had become a blasted landscape full of dark holes and burning forest. Vansen descended down the hill to Cabal City.
Halfway, he saw that they had seen what had happened. A small army of foot soldiers stood before the end of the hill, some carrying bows and arrows and others simply sitting on small pedestals. Some of the Pit Warriors were present as well. Vansen only continued walking down.
The city, he could see, was gathering every which way. People were trying to get a good view of what had happened. They would all see what would happen.
“Holt!” Shouted one of the Foot Soldiers. “By the Order of the Patriarch, you are here by barred from Cabal City.” The woman shouted above a roll of parchment. “If you try to enter, we have been ordered to stop you at all costs.” She rolled up the parchment, and handed it too a Soldier to her right.
Vansen looked into her eyes. Trying to find why she would want his knowledge. It didn’t matter, they all wanted it. Everyone of them. They can’t have it. They mustn’t!
Vansen charged the Foot Soldiers with all his strength. He started with a run, letting his clothes catch wind. The distance between them shortened drastically. The Soldiers strung their arow’s, and fired.
Vansen waved his hands, letting black mana encase him. The arrows stung him, but to no avail. He ran into the men, pushing them to the ground. They screamed and scraped at their clothes and skin at the black substance that had been passed onto them. Vansen stopped, and turned to a warrior to his left.
It was a Pit Fighter, wielding two swords. He chopped at Vansen, but to no effect. His slashes simply went through him, as Vansen took his hands to the warriors chest, and grabbed hold. Letting the black mana corrupt his skin.
He let loose a wild smile as the warrior fell to the ground. Looking at his hands like an artist, he turned to his next opponent. A man on a pedestal. He was sitting their.
“Black magic...” He whispered to himself. “Unholy beings...” Vansen felt the power of the fields, and channeled it at the man on the pedestal. A blast of light hit him, but nothing happened. Instead the man got down from the pedestal, and placed his hands on the ground. Black arms like an octopus reached out from the fertile land. They seemed transparent, but their tracks of charred grass said otherwise.
Vansen summoned a creature from the forest, a beast of which he never saw jumped out of a small glimpse of a portal at the Unholy Man. The creature tore into the Man’s chest, but was quickly dismissed by one of the black arms. Another man from a pedestal approached with two more soldiers. They started to flank Vansen.
Feeling a bit of dread, he looked deep into himself. Why would they want my knowledge? The Patriarch sent me away because he didn’t believe me! Why would he want me dead now? Why?
He reached out his hands to his sides, and called to the sky, letting loose a high screech. Rain poured heavily, soiling the ground. He whipped out a cane from his side, and stabbed the end of it at on of the surprised soldiers, who fell. He ducked his head when he heard an object coming, and avoided a sword as the soldier fell over Vansen. He placed a hand on the soldiers head, which started to burn. The black arms had reached Vansen, and the flanking taking there tole. “Is this what your Patriarch wants?! To kill an old man who just wants to live in peace!” The rain turned into a haze of dark spots. “He’ll have to kill every man alive to kill me! Every man ali–“ The soldiers fell to the ground, along with everything else around him. Even the ground seemed dead. Black spots sprouting from Vansens’ enemy’s. Vansen dropped to his knees, and placed his face in his hands. He looked around frantically. What happened? Who did this? He felt around with one of his hands, but felt nothing. He could see all had fallen with the haze but himself.

He sat their for a time. How long he couldn’t be sure. The haze hadn’t left quickly. He couldn’t hear any signs of life. Even this close to the city, he could only hear a few birds screaming in the distance. He got up carefully, looking even closer at his surroundings. He made his way to the city.
There was a man near the front gate. Vansen had never seen him before, and sure that he would remember someone so big and tall. He wore some sort of cloak and armor, bearing only a small sword as a weapon.
“The Cabal Patriarch requests an Audience with you, Vansen, Dreamer of Dreams.”
He felt the man’s clothing, hardly believing he was real. “Who? Who demands what?” He sputtered, but to no effect. The man lead the way to the Inner City.

Vansen stayed to the side of the mysterious man, almost behind him, peering out. He knew were he was going. The town was silent, and no one dared look out a window, let alone walk on the street. “Going to see the man. Going to see.” Is all Vansen could say. Mumbling it to himself more then to the man in front of him.
They entered the great building in the City, to which no guards stood. The door was ajar.
The man stood aside from Vansen at the door. “The Patriarch has requested only an Audience with you.” He turned his back, and took his place at the door as watchmen. Vansen peered in, letting his head pour a long shadow across the hall. Come in. Come in. A voice seemed to whisper. No harm will come to you here.
He entered the building, letting his feet drag as he entered. Saliva started to drip at the side of his mouth.
He walked for an hour. Two. Three before finding the Great One, as he had heard the townsfolk refer to their leader as when Vansen lived in the city. He sat in a great chair of red velvet, tall black hat, and a cloak made for all occasions. “Welcome, Vansen Haldrid. It’s been a long time.” The Patriarch motioned for him to sit at one of the great chairs in the room. A small table with an assortment of foods and wines laid before Vansen. “Please, eat. You must be hungry.”
Vansen couldn’t be sure, but he thought he could see other people in the room as well.
The Patriarch had laced his fingers, watching Vansen eat.
“Do you know why I’ve summoned you, Vansen Haldrid?” He asked.
“You” he started as he ate and drank. “You want my knowledge. Like everyone else.”
The Patriarch watched him. “No, Vansen. No one has ever wanted your knowledge. Not the Centaurs, not the Soldiers, not your wife or your children.”
Vansen looked up at him then.
“Not even me, Vansen.”.
He only looked at the Great One. Eyes wide with something he couldn’t be sure was either anger or great sadness. “Vansen, I want you to work for me. I need you to work for me.”
Vansen only stared with that glare the he didn’t understand the feeling for.
“Vansen, you have a little something.” He pointed with his finger to his lips, which were pale and pruny.
Vansen got up. “No. I won’t give you my knowledge. Not now not ever not when I’m dead not when I –“
The Patriarch stopped him by getting up himself. “Vansen Haldrid!” He shouted. “Bow down to me and give me your obedience!”
Vansen fell to the ground, crawling on the stone, trying to get away.
“Vansen, Dreamer of Dreams! You shall give me your obedience!” He roared, but Vansen could only stare in stark horror. He wants my knowledge! Everyone wants it! Everyone wants–
Vansen tried to crawl, but found himself unable. The Patriarch’s shadow fell over him, his hands outstretched.

Vansen awoke in a dark, shadowy room. Smelling of rich wine and food.
“Ah, you, you awake!” Squeaked a small creature from the other side of the room. “The Patriarch has been waiting! Yes yes!” The creature bounced against bars. Or bars fell on the creature, Vansen couldn’t tell.
“Where am I?” He asked, noticing that, for the first time, his thoughts didn’t involve anger or sadness, dread or happiness of any sort.
“You, you in the cell!” The creature jumped up and down. “Yes! In the cell! In the cell!”
Vansen felt around, feeling bars around him.
“What is this?” He inquired again.
The door opened on the far end of the room.
“Vansen Haldrid. You have been summoned to fight.” Said a woman in armor.
“As this is your first fight, you are entitled to choose between Attacker or Defender. What is your choice?”
Vansen looked across the room to the creature, which could be seen in part by the light from the door.
“What’s going on? Where am I?” He asked again. And again to himself.
The women approached his cell. “Vansen Haldrid, correct?” She asked.
He looked at her, noticing her calm approach. He nodded.
“Vansen, as a cost for the Cabal Patriarch cleansing your mind of all knowledge that has forsaken you from our land, you must fight in the pits. Three months.” She opened his cell with a key. “Attacker or Defender?”
“Defender...” He said, trying to make sense as to why this “Patriarch” would cleanse his mind.
“Why?” He asked.
“Why what?” She asked, giving him a small raise of her eyebrow.
“Why was I cleansed?”
“You were not well. As were all of the creatures here. Don’t worry, your better now.”
Vansen walked with her to the door, and turned to the creature that had first spoken to him. “Don’t worry, little Centaur. They won’t get away.”
They’ll never gain my knowledge. Not one of them.

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Well, that's it. I've been meaning to write this story for a while (since the set Torment came out). It shows my love for the Madness spells. Anyone who's read Chainer's Torment (Torment: for those of you who don't know, Torment is copyrighted by a different company and not even a Magic: the gathering novel) knows what Cabal Patriarch is like, and why he does the things he does. So you should have some insight to the story at least if you've read that book. In fact, if you read the Oddyessy cycle you should have a clear view of the story. But you should be able to understand it by itself. Hope you enjoyed it.

-Dustin

Either I'm a really bad writer, or all of you have something against replying to Magic fanfics'. Isn't this any good in any way worth commenting on? 30 views ( or close to ) and not one reply? I find it hard to belive that 30 of those people are MTSer's without accounts.

8^)

I read it from start to end twice. Im also a fan of chainers torment, but when I read it the first time I noticed somthing, It has ALOT of misspellings, I cant tell where a quote begins and one ends. But im not trying to be mean and overall it is quiet a good story.

It has ALOT of misspellings

Funny, I ran it through a spell checker, only the made up words should be improper.

it is quiet a good story

That's what I really wanted to hear. Thanks for the review and for reading it!