MTG Cardsmith Community Forums
Planar Collapse: Story Reveal!
Heya everyone! As you may know, I've been working for a couple of months now on a custom megaset, Planar Collapse. Well, now that the set is reaching near 400 cards (which I'm ecstatic about), I've decided that I should start writing the story for it. So welcome! I'm gonna try to do it like Wotc-ish with a story and showcase a few related cards along the way. If you want, you can check out the full set here:
Planar Collapse
As always, feedback is super appreciated on cards.
If you see card in the set that you would like to know more about storywise, you can message me and I will do my absolute best to write that part of the story as well.
As always, cheers! And I can't wait to get this whole big story on the road.
Planar Collapse
As always, feedback is super appreciated on cards.
If you see card in the set that you would like to know more about storywise, you can message me and I will do my absolute best to write that part of the story as well.
As always, cheers! And I can't wait to get this whole big story on the road.
Comments
Cierne hastened down the corridor, refraining from running despite the gravity he felt now weighing down on him. If what his friend had told him was true…
“Good morning, Grand Toven!” A bright-eyed monk passed by, smiling, and waving.
Cierne smiled and nodded back but refused to ease up his pace. Normally he would have stopped to talk with the monk. He would have spent an hour discussing matters of the monk’s training, enlightenment, and the beauty of the world. But now, for the first time in his life, his duties as Grand Toven superseded all of that. The peace of that life was at stake, and if he didn’t act soon enough, it could very well be taken from him forever.
Not even the smell of the cherry trees blooming could calm him as he turned and entered the sacred meditation grove. This was his favorite time of year; the cherry trees were in full bloom, their beautiful white flowers voluminous and fragrant.
His sister, Mienje, was seated underneath one of these trees now. Her eyes were closed, and her body relaxed. Her robe was dancing every so slightly in the breeze. She seemed a statue. It was such a shame he would have to rouse her from such deep meditation.
“My dear sister,” he said, drawing close.
She opened her eyes, her calm face turning to mockery in but a moment. “Now that you’re Grand Toven you can interrupt my meditation for stupid things, but I can’t interrupt yours?”
Cierne folded his hands in front of him. “I’m afraid that this is of planar importance,” he said softly.
Mienje smiled, rising slowly from her seated position. “Losing a game of yuteim is not of planar importance, brother.”
Cierne ignored her. He looked towards the sky, towards the sun, shining beautifully in a sea of cloudless blue. He held his hand to shield his eyes some. “Tell me, Mienje, does something seem strange to you about the sun?”
Mienje chuckled. “Brother, we both know that the sun shines every day, sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, but it is the great essence of life.”
He didn’t look back at her. He continued measuring. Calculating. Sizing up the imminent devastation. “What if I told you that the sun’s size has decreased by twenty percent in the past day?”
Mienje laughed. “Brother! Please, is there some point to this? The sun has not done such a thing. We would have felt it, no? I mean, such a change we would see empirically.”
“Perhaps,” Cierne said, nodding. “Or perhaps what is in the sky are the last few images of our sun that we shall see.” He turned quickly towards her. “Marinus has informed me that we have stopped orbiting it. We have taken a ninety degree turn away from it, in fact.”
Mienje frowned, looking into the sky. “But what could cause such a thing, and how does he know?”
“I don’t know,” Cierne continued. “But what I do know, is that it is an imminent threat. I need you to help me fortify the Tovenkiel.”
“Fortify it from what?”
“I don’t have the answer to that either.”
“Well then how do you…”
The ground beneath them shook, and the light above them vanished as though a candle had been blown out. The sky was replaced with flashing lights of stars.
The earth cracked beneath Cierne’s feet, and he leaped back. He swirled the wind to him, cloaking himself and rising an inch above the ground. Reaching out, he called the wind to hold the stone of the Tovenkiel. But when he did so, all he felt was the great cracks. The whole world was cracking. The Tovenkiel was already severed from the Lokem, and he could feel the cracks ripping into the Muntem Peaks. With what strength he could muster, he swirled all the air he could grab. His reach went for miles.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing that he was turning the whole Lokem into an airless vacuum, and dooming hundreds to die, but he was entrusted to keep the Tovenkiel safe, at any cost. He swirled the mass of air, encircling the Tovenkiel in a massive bubble of air.
A crack reached the bubble. It shot through the ground and pierced the beautiful sanctuary Cierne had made.
How is that possible? The crack wasn’t a crack in the earth, it was almost as if…
It was a crack in space itself.
He took a deep breath. “Venyu, I sacrifice,” He whispered. Out from his chest burst a magnificent white snow owl. He could feel its wings, its talons, everything scratch him inside as it stole his life energy. But as Grand Toven, it was his ultimate trump card. To call upon the Wind Sovereign herself by sacrificing part of his own life.
Venyu flapped her wings, sending a thousand thousand feathers sprawling forward. They flew towards the bubble he had made, as though by magnetism, sticking themselves to the inside. And as each fell into place, locking with the next as though part of a puzzle, a small burst of energy seared the feathers together. In mere moments, the whole inside of his bubble was layered with Venyu’s feathers, sealed with the Sovereign’s energy.
“You must hold, my child,” Venyu said softly, landing on his shoulder. “I do not foresee this being a short journey.”
…
“Awaken. Awaken. Awaken.”
Cierne’s eyes snapped open. He was standing, in the Tovenkiel still. Venyu was flying in front of his face, her golden eyes staring into his. “It seems we have arrived.”
“Where?”
Venyu did not answer.
“How much will you take?” He asked.
“I will stay,” she said, landing on Cierne’s shoulder. “But do no worry, I need no more life of yours.”
Cierne eyed the Sovereign suspiciously, still maintaining his spell for the moment.
Venyu motioned slowly to the ground before them with her wing. Cierne could feel dread spread through him. He looked down, and found, at his feet, Mienje, lifeless. Energyless.
“She asked that I take her instead,” Venyu said softly.
Cierne let go of his spell and sank to his knees. Mienje’s face, though without life, was somehow soft and…almost smiling. It seems that she was at peace.
“Tell me…”
“Yes,” Venyu interjected. “It was painless and instantaneous. She lives in the wind now.”
Feathers began to pepper the ground around Mienje’s corpse, until she was completely covered. Then, in one moment, they all vanished, and so too had Mienje.
“We will mourn her when we hear the wind howl,” Venyu said. “But for now, we must protect the Tovenkiel from whatever horror this is.”
Cierne looked up. His spell had disappated. So had Venyu’s. They were staring up, through the grove, through the spires of the Tovenkiel, still intact, at the night sky, filled with a thousand stars. But there, in the sky, hung two moons.
“Ciestou doesn’t have two moons,” he said softly.
“You’d be correct.” Marinus, his voice sweet and charming, said, approaching them from behind. “I think you will find much more that Ciestou doesn’t have if you’ll follow me.”
Cierne didn’t know what to say. Mienje was gone. He knew he should mourn her, but he also knew that as Grand Toven, he first had to prioritize the safety of the Tovenkiel. He begrudgingly rose to his feet and followed Marinus out of the grove, to a nearby balcony. Marinus motioned widely with his arm at the landscape before them. To the west, as per usual, sat the familiar faces of the Muntem Peaks. But to the north, where should sit the Lokem, sat more mountains, all unfamiliar to him. The rocks that built the mountains were even different from those that built the Muntem Peaks.
“Ciestou didn’t have a mountain range like that,” Marinus said.
Venyu landed on the balcony’s edge. “And the mana is…” She paused. “I can feel Ciestou’s leylines, but they’re broken. Shattered, spread apart over miles and miles. Thousands of miles.”
“Meaning?” Cierne asked.
Marinus stared at the two moons in the sky. “Meaning the whole plane of Ciestou has been picked up and transplanted somewhere else.”
“So, we’re no longer on Ciestou?” Cierne asked. The words Marinus had just said didn’t make sense. You couldn’t just pick up and move a whole plane.
“To be exact,” Marinus stated, scratching his beard anxiously. “Ciestou doesn’t exist anymore. It has, if my calculations and divinations are correct, been completely fused with something else; some other plane.”
“So, where are we?”
“A new reality,” said Venyu. “This is the cosmos now.
End of Story I
Hope you enjoyed the first story, stay tuned to find out more about Planar Collapse! Cheers!
Me and a couple other people have been working on something called The Script, it compiles canon and fanon mtg history from people on MTGCardsmith, if you want, I can have your story put into it.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hpFQEeLsAgpedVuWxcgUbcLsLZTShVxk02kICL9EZ3o/edit?usp=sharing
That sounds really cool! Definitely go right ahead!
Story II, Part I
The morning breeze was blowing in softly from the harbor. Ships with white hulls and golden sails filled Sinronce’s natural cove. Sunlight was twinkling off the white stone buildings of Sinronce, their burnt Tuscan rooftops neutralizing the harsh reflected sunlight.
Even this early in the morning, the city was beginning to move. The harbor was bustling with merchants and traders, brimming with news of new planar collapse or perhaps the Dread Captain Caston.
Idella, watching over this bustle from her balcony high in the palace, unfolded her wings for the first time today. The fragrant and salty sea air traced its way through her feathers, sending a pulse of relief through her. She relished in the simplicity of this moment every morning.
Sinronce was more than just the Jewel of the Goldsea. It was her jewel. After many, many years of sacrifice, struggle, and subservience, she had subverted her deals, gained her power, and marked this world. Sinronce was her sacred slice of Amsu, her protectorate, her kingdom. And her people didn’t even care that she was a demon. Every day she unfurled her wings high above her city and renewed her commitment to protect it from this planar catastrophe.
As she retracted her wings, she became alert to the soft flapping of another pair of wings nearby. Her moment of silence had already been shattered.
“And what news are you bringing today?” she asked, not bothered enough to turn.
The sound of wings petered out, and she felt something land on the railing. “Not even a hello?”
Idella turned briskly towards the arrogant voice. Perched delicately on the railing was Ayeulion, with his perfect smile and multicolor-colored wings. “Hello,” she said with a snark. “Now would you mind getting to it?” Ayeulion played this stupid formalities and drama game every time he showed up. Idella couldn’t tell if he was just too dumb to realize she didn’t have the time for it, or if he thought he was cool or important enough to not have to worry about wasting her time.
“Well,” he said, withdrawing his beautiful wings, “There was another collapse last night.” He spun ever so delicately on the railing to gaze out over Sinronce’s bay.
Idella tapped her fingers on the railing. “If so, then today’s not really one for dramatic flair.”
“Very well,” Ayeulion muttered. “I’ll proceed with my report as plainly and boringly as possible.”
“Appreciated,” Idella shot back with jest.
“One plane collapsed in last night,” Ayeulion continued. “Some pockets of civilization managed to survive, but mostly fragmented, destroyed landscapes prevailed. As it may concern you, three islands appeared in the southern Goldsea, off the coast of old Hazum, and some academy or monastery or something appeared in the eastern Sinju Mountains.”
“That’s all?”
“In the immediate area,” he said with a nod.
She drummed her fingers on the railing once more. To survive planar collapse, one either needed great luck or great power. Both of those were things she needed. But she couldn’t afford to weaken her Sinroncen forces sending countless emissaries into the unknown with the potential for them to be killed by some malevolent or vain power.
“And did you learn anything about them?” she asked. Perhaps she could minimize the need to send out other scouts and emissaries.
“Well, I got shot at flying over the islands,” he said with a smile and a slight shuffle of his feet. “So, I noped out of there as fast as I could.”
“And the academy thing?”
“When I got close, I noticed an exorbitant amount of energy there. I think that some sort of primal entity or deity was there. I didn’t want to proceed alone.”
Idella nodded. Ayeulion’s magic was some sort of strange magic that gained strengthened the more of his kind were around. Even though his dramatic flair was often annoying, Idella couldn’t help but admire the calculated tactician that was hidden underneath. At the end of the day, it was why he was her greatest ally. He assessed his risks and made sure he wasn’t making any missteps.
“And planeswalkers?” she asked softly. Ayeulion had powerful magic that kept him in tune with not just the magic of the various planes crashing into Amsu, but more importantly, the planeswalkers like himself that were being brought to the plane. She knew he could manipulate tons of kinds of mana, but his power increased exponentially in the presence of other planeswalkers.
“I sensed four in total,” he said. He ruffled his wings a little bit. “One of them was on the islands, but I obviously couldn’t get there. I tried to send the message not to planeswalk telepathically, but…” Ayeulion trailed off and shrugged, his wings fluffing out slightly.
“Anyways, I found someone who might be helpful to you…or us…whatever,” he continued. With a swift flap of his wings, he sent a gust of wind hurtling towards the door.
Idella turned half-heartedly with Ayeulion’s theatrics. The door swung open with a creak to reveal a young man standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“You told me to stand here until…” the young man stuttered.
“And this is…?” Idella cut the young man off. She wanted information as quick as possible, not any of this time-consuming waste.
“Keszin,” Ayeulion replied.
Keszin stepped forward and awkwardly extended his hand.
“Keszin is, I believe, a potentially invaluable ally,” Ayeulion said.
Idella stepped forward and grasped Keszin’s hand firmly. Keszin’s gaze dropped to the ground for a moment and then returned to Idella’s. “Keszin,” he said softly.
Idella nodded. “I’ve gotten that. So, are you a—”
“No, he’s not,” Ayeulion interjected. “But Keszin is a very powerful and unique mage.”
Idella’s interest had been piqued. Even if the man standing in front of her wasn’t a planeswalker, a regular mage that caught the eye of Ayeulion for uniqueness had the potential to be an invaluable asset.
“So, Keszin, what is your magic? Can you demonstrate for me?”
Keszin’s eyes flicked to Ayeulion, then back to Idella. He smiled nervously. “No.”
Idella felt herself flinch a little at the bluntness and disrespect. It wasn’t really a question. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
Keszin looked at the sky. “Well, my magic revolves around the moon. I draw power from the mana that aligns with the moon to create spatial rifts that I convert into various arrangements of teleportation.”
“Some sort of portal or personal teleportation?”
“Either.” Keszin’s voice had grown a little stronger. “But my main power is in portal teleportation. I have been around for quite a while for this…“planar collapse” I believe you call it, and I understand that you are trying your best to muster at least some sort of defenses or something of the sort.”
Mobility. Ayeulion had brought him here for mobility. He wanted to extend Sinronce’s influence beyond Sinronce. She could see the benefit in that; to have a large network of portals that connected various strongholds of her power. Unfortunately, there were a few holes that were nowhere near being adequately filled.
“You said that your magic is based on the moon? What happens to the portals when the moons go down?”
Keszin scratched the back of his neck. “They deactivate but will instantly reactivate when the moon’s mana is back.”
“That’s where I hope your amassing will come in handy,” Ayeulion interrupted. “If we were to gain the allyship of some sort of moonmage or artificer who could trap and store the moon’s mana, we could essentially power the portals indefinitely.”
Idella squinted and smiled at him sardonically. “There’s more problems than just that. Say we lose control of a portal. We would instantly give an enemy free reign over my protectorate.”
“Actually no,” Keszin said, his chin tilted a little upwards. “Only those who have been blessed by me can enter the portals. Otherwise the moon’s mana will incinerate you instantly. It’s a very…primal, planar type of energy.”
Idella turned away from the angel and young man standing on the balcony and looked out over Sinronce’s bay once more. She trusted Ayeulion. Perhaps more than anyone. He was her greatest ally in the fight against her. And as much as her heart was telling her that she should just hold onto Sinronce, the jewel she had made, her mind was telling her that even then it wouldn't be safe. That wretched demon wouldn’t stop. But maybe; just maybe, if Idella did something now, she could stop this catastrophe, even if that curse restricted what she could divulge. She could take her down. She could amass her own army. She could end this planar collapse. She could ensure the safety of her city and her plane for eons to come.
She turned around and looked at Ayeulion. He was standing there, examining some of the feathers on his right wing. As Idella faced him, his eyes lit up eagerly. “Ayeulion, go find the other three planeswalkers that arrived with yesterday’s collapse. Implant the message not to planeswalk. It’s crucial we stop collapse as quickly as possible. Be safe.” She turned to Keszin. “Keszin, I’d like to hear about these portals in some more detail. And then I’d like to sketch a plan with you about proceeding with a network of them.”
Ayeulion nodded, his smile firmly set in his face. With just the sound of the flap of his wings, he vanished. Idella knew he was already high in the sky to begin his search. She was left with Keszin, who was smiling nervously, though his eyes were eager.
“Let’s get to work. We’ve got a world to protect.”
End of Story II
Thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Cheers!
Story III, Part I
Roshin stared out over the empty calm seas. Last night, he and his father had barely managed to keep the Kaon Isles intact as they had hurdled through the Eternities. It had been taxing, to say the least. His arm was sore most of all; the fluctuating energies had ripped at it in a way he hadn’t felt for years.
Sitting on the cliffs just outside of Kaonon, the Isles’ largest city (perhaps more like a walled town), he tried again to connect with the world’s leylines. He could feel his home planes’ leylines, but they were fractured and dispersed. Interwoven amidst familiar leylines were other fragmented leylines from what seemed like dozens of different planes.
The gulls shrilled high above him.
The pain in his arm sent him back through his memories, to that time when he first felt the strange mana of another plane. And it had a taste of him.
It had been a strangely calm night. He remembered he was always told stories that began with some variation of a dark, stormy night, but that night had been anything but. The sun was just setting when his father had knocked on his door, an unsuspecting young teen. His father entered teary eyed and broken, a face Roshin had never seen of the Isles’ Lord. Between stuttered breaths, his father had managed to let go that Roshin’s mother had died.
Angry, he had tried to push his father out of the room using magic, but just as he tried to use it, he felt a great pain in his arm and a feeling of nausea begin in his gut. He felt himself almost whisked into an unfeeling void, and he lost nearly all of his own senses save for the incredible pain in his arm.
As the blackened void faded, he found himself on soft grass with the fragrant scent of a sea breeze. And blood. Even though there was an excruciating pain in his right arm, he couldn’t really feel it, only look down in shock. And there he could see his arm, mangled with mana. Parts of his flesh were still there, but his arm had been twisted and replaced and rewritten almost with mana. As he vomited at the sight of it, there was something else strange about it: the mana interwoven into the hideous appendage wasn’t completely familiar to him. While some of it was familiar, other of it was completely foreign.
At the time, Roshin hadn’t realized he wasn’t still on his home plane. He had thought he had merely teleported on his own world. But instead, he had planeswalked for the first time. And in the process of using magic at the same time, it had twisted his arm and infused it with mana from his home and from the new, foreign plane.
As he moved around the strange plane, he was cast as an outcast, of course, for his strange demonic arm. Rumors began to spread that he had made a pact with a demon and that he had sacrificed his humanity for power. Everybody stayed away from him.
Alone, penniless, and hungry, he had been taken in by a kind family that lived on the outskirts of a town. They took care of him, though were always inquisitive of his past. He didn’t really ever know. He didn’t understand what had happened. All he knew was that the mana of this place was strange and that he felt as though he didn’t belong.
Time passed, but he didn’t realize. Soon he was a young adult that had become accustomed to the strange plane. Even his new family had come to accept him and ease off of his past. That is, until the eldest of the daughters one night tried to take advantage of him. After fending her off, she manipulated the father against Roshin, and the father sent Roshin scurrying into the forest with a few knife wounds leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Bleeding quite badly, he had sat at the edge of the cliff where he had arrived, staring off at the sea. The gulls were shrilling above him, but all he could think about was home. His real home. He hadn’t thought about his father in years really, and he had realized that he had been cruel to flee and not even try to return.
And in those moments, he had whisked back to his home, not knowing what had happened, and fallen into the warm embrace of his father.
As he sat now on the cliffs of the Kaon Isles, staring blankly into the distance, he felt a strange feeling he hadn’t felt in a short while. Mana. Specifically that mana.
It was the gulls. It dawned on him, and he reached out, feeling the mana woven through this mosaic of a world, to the gulls that were swirling with the energy of that second home. It was here too.His moment of silence was shattered as a blur shot through the gulls, scattering them. Roshin only heard a soft flap of wings before a winged figure was floating before him. It was a man, or something like a man, with great, multi-colored wings. Roshin remembered his father talking about an entity like that that the deadeyes had fended off last night.
“I’m not in the mood—” Roshin started
“I’m delivering a message,” the strange man said.
Roshin eyed him warily. He could tell just by the way this world’s twisted mana seemed to gather around the winged man that he was more than slightly powerful.
“We’re not in the mood for a message” he said placidly.
The winged man smiled. “Well good, it’s only for you.”
Roshin felt his eyes narrow. A message for him? He began to reach out a begin to grasp at the wisps of mana around him. Even if this man was friendly, Roshin wasn’t about to be caught off-guard.
“Pacify.” The winged man uttered a single word, and Roshin felt himself stop grasping for the threads of mana.
“What did you—”
“Truth field,” the winged man uttered, and Roshin noticed a white globe envelope them both.
“I’m quite like you,” the winged man continued, before Roshin had a moment to recollect his thoughts. “I too planeswalk, and have seen other worlds. Though, I’m sure you too can notice this is…strange,” he said, motioning to the world around.
“I don’t care,” Roshin replied.
“Evidently,” the man continued with a laugh. “I’ve just come to tell you not to planeswalk away.”
Roshin stared at the man. That was quite a threatening thing to say. Roshin tried to say something back, but found the words quelled in his mouth.
“That’s my truth field,” the winged man said. “It prevents those of us with sparks from lying in its domain.”
“You’re a bother, you know that?”
The winged man smiled and nodded. “I was instructed to simply implant the idea not to planeswalk in your head, but I made the judgment that you seem like a rather reasonable person and that I’d like to chat.”
The statement brought a flurry of questions to Roshin’s mind. “Instructed? So you’re someone’s little lapdog?”
The winged man snickered. “Yeah, sure, you can say that. Willingly though.”
“And you thought I looked like a reasonable person?” Roshin pressed, holding up his mangled, demonic looking arm.
The man shrugged, and flapped his brilliant wings. “It’s really not a concern of mine. My only concerns are making sure you don’t try to planeswalk, and stopping the source of this calamity.”
“Why’s my planeswalking so important to you?”
“I get stronger when I’m surrounded by planeswalkers, so I’d like to keep you around,” the winged man said with a smirk.
Roshin snickered. “Oh, the little lapdog needs a lapdog himself?”
“Don’t get cheeky with me,” he said, flapping his wings once more. When his wings settled, the man’s face became stern. “Seriously though, don’t do it. It would seem that planeswalking causes more planes to be drawn into this one.”
“So it’s not just selfish then?”
“No,” the winged man said, “And it would seem that no planeswalker has successfully managed to escape it as well. They are always drawn back into it.”
Roshin nodded. “Why can’t I be the first?”
“Well, that’s where you being a reasonable person comes into play.” The winged man motioned again to the world around him, this time with his magnificent wings. “For the people stranded and struggling in this new reality, and those out in the multiverse unaware of its occurrence, stay here and prevent it from destroying anything else.”
Roshin looked down at his arm. “Well, I’m not that great at not destroying things, but sure. I won’t planeswalk.”
The smile returned to the man’s face, and he floated slowly down to Roshin. “My name’s Ayeulion,” he said, extending a hand.
Roshin stared at the hand, hesitating.
“It’s all right,” Ayeulion said, “I’m not really afraid of you ripping my arm or anything.”
“Roshin,” he said, grabbing Ayeulion’s hand with his traumatized arm.
“Well, Roshin, it’s a pleasure to meet you, and I thank you for your cooperation.”
Roshin nodded.
“In other matters,” Ayeulion continued, “I’d like to ask you to consider speaking with myself and—”
“Your master?” Roshin interrupted
Ayeulion winced. “I like to consider us good friends,” he said with a laugh. “But I can tell that’s not going to sway you, so yes.”
Roshin pondered it for a few moments. He knew that his father’s stance on this event was one of isolation. In fact, the Kaon Isles had a chance to maintain that isolation. But Roshin had a certain…skepticism of his father’s tactic. His father hadn’t planeswalked, and didn’t understand the sheer unknowable power that sat beyond the veil of the stars. His father hadn’t experienced the power of Seizonim Six. Roshin had. And since their plane was here, they were certain to be here too. Beings that powerful could end the isolation that his father wanted.
“On a condition,” Roshin finally muttered.
“Better not get cheeky on me again,” Ayeulion replied with a smirk.
“My father wants to remain an isolated island. That’s not my style, but I would like to help him protect my home.”
“Ooh, sometime you may have to tell me your style,” Ayeulion said, still smirking. It faded quickly though. “But certainly. We have a proposition; an alliance we are trying to form, that you might consider should you speak with us.”
“And that would be when?”
“I can take you to speak with my friend now, should you desire. And I vow that I’m not lying that that’s what I’m doing,” Ayeulion said, pointing with his wings to the still present magical sphere around them. “All you have to do is tell me.”
“Then let’s go.”
End of Story IIIAs always, if you look through (or have) the set (linked at the top), and see a character that you would like to learn about, tell me and I will write and/or hasten the writing of their story so that you can find out!!
Story IV, Part I
Only a single garden in all of Sinronce grew snow cherry blossoms. Perhaps it was because Sinronce was so warm during a good part of the year, or that it was right up against the sea, or even maybe it was because the trees were delicate and frail. Regardless, it always seemed a shame that there were so few.
Back in her home, Mi Ogi often spent hours choosing the best snow cherry blossom tree to sit under. Here in Sinronce, though, she only had a handful to choose from and none compared to those back home.
But she had to content herself with the meager trees that were there. After all, Idella was kind to her, and gave her plenty of time to delve into her stories. In fact, that’s all Idella ever wanted from her really, and Mi Ogi was more than happy to do so. She finally settled with one of the trees and sat underneath. She opened her book, today a fine, red leather bound book, to its next empty page, and she stared off over Sinronce’s beautiful rooftops and over the glistening sea.
She could picture in her mind a shallow lake. It seemed to stretch for miles upon miles, though it looked to be no deeper than a deep puddle. In the distance, clouds clung to the surface of the lake, and the water’s surface reflected the image of the sky and clouds in an image of infinity.
Sitting in the center of the lake was a massive structure. Rising from the mirrored waters, it seemed to have hexagonal sides that were at the same time impossibly infinite. And in each archway, it seemed was a door, an opening, more like. Each opening revealed itself to a beautiful other world, and from where she stood, Mi Ogi could see a beautiful mountain range reaching up into a midnight sky.
She could feel a desire bubbling up inside of her to see what had created such a magnificent structure; its impossible beauty was simply stunning.
And then, from one of the opening, stepped a massive creature. To Mi Ogi, it seemed like some stunning, massive, humanoid heron, that stood even as tall as the structure in brilliant crimson and indigo robes. When the robes’ beautiful and long angel sleeves parted, for just a moment, it seemed as though Mi Ogi could see a whole other world contained within; a deep red and orange sky with a blazing sun appeared briefly before being swallowed by the sleeves once more.
The magnificent being strode out of the opening, and stood tall against the clouded horizon. With a sharp movement, its head snapped around, and its eyes stared directly at Mi Ogi.
“And what dream brings you here?” Its mouth opened and the words boomed across the shallow lake.
Mi Ogi shook her head and found herself staring back at the beautiful harbor of Sinronce.
She didn’t know what happened. That shouldn’t have been possible. She was only daydreaming, after all, it wasn’t as though she was actually viewing that creature or anything. Yet it had seemingly spoken to her. That had never happened before.
She shook her head again, trying to shake the strange feeling that was settling in. She looked down at her book. Several pages had been filled with words etched in dark ink. The last words written in it seemed etched bolder than the others: “And what dream brings you here?”
She closed the book and nodded. That was certainly something that Idella would like to hear about. Perhaps it was just a strange daydream. Mi Ogi hoped so. Yet at the same time, she secretly found it quite exciting, to daydream about some fascinating being that might have a power she could not even conceive of.
She glanced up to the sky. The sun had moved quite far while she was daydreaming. Idella’s meeting was probably starting soon. She tucked her book into her belt, grabbed her parasol, and headed inside.
The vaulted hall was oddly quiet, even though Mi Ogi seemed to be one of the later individuals to arrive. As she looked around, she smiled slightly. The silence seemed to stem from the absence of Ayeulion. That beautiful angel was the hero who had brought all of the others gathered around together, even if Idella was the mastermind behind it all. And, of all the people sitting and standing around the massive hall, Ayeulion was the most agreeable, at least Mi Ogi had found. He was the least judgmental of them, that was for sure. She would be happy to daydream about him any day.
Idella was sitting in her chair, insouciantly spinning and floating a crystal orb in her hand. Every once and a while she would look up, scan the room, sigh, and go back to staring aloofly at the orb.
Mi Ogi by now knew most of the other characters in the room. After all, she had daydreamed about many of them. The other ones Ayeulion had picked up on his travels and wanderings. For those, once she had met them, Mi Ogi was not one to forget such magnificent and wonderful heroes.
The loudest of all those present was the group of angels, who had all hailed from the same world and were all essentially a tight family with Ayeulion. In addition to Ayeulion, two other planeswalkers had been born among them: Evara and Haasen. Evara, the youngest among the angels that had survived from their plane, she was a resilient woman who, though powerful, seemed often overshadowed by her fellow angels. Haasen, on the other hand, seemed overshadowed by his production; apparently, ever since arriving, he had sunk deeper and deeper into a dark state of mind, only briefly returning for glimmers of respite.
The other two angels, Veija and Lesedu, were the two remaining matriarchs that had survived collapse. As such, apart from the planeswalkers, all the other angels seemed mostly bound to their decisions.
Only two other seemed to be conversing: Keszin, the mage Ayeulion had found that could create portals based on the moon’s energy, and Rehi, a planeswalking demigod who was accompanied by his fellow planeswalking demigod Noji, who was a wolf. Rehi and Noji were both demigods of the moon, so likely the two were discussing ways to implement the designs of Keszin’s moonportals in order to have them fully functional.
The remaining individuals were all spread about the room, seemingly indifferent to the conversations about them. To be fair, all of them were powerful individuals and Mi Ogi knew they all had things that they probably wish they were doing.
The strange and depressing Roshin was leaning in a corner, probably concerned that the others would be too concerned about the nature of his hand to discuss with him (Mi Ogi had perceived as such a couple of days ago in a daydream).
The Sallova, the last disciple of an ancient order, was sitting perfectly oriented in her seat, seemingly in a state of meditation. Mi Ogi remembered her daydream about the Sallova quite starkly, simply because the Komya the Sallova watched over was incredibly beautiful.
Ellya, the so titled Premier of Daggerpeak, a city of dragons and dragonspeakers, was standing sternly next to the long table. Looking closer, Mi Ogi noticed she was actually staring at the small blue, twelve winged dragon that sat perched upon the shoulder of a young woman across from her. The girl, strangely called Elya, was a strange being that planeswalked with her dragon companion on her shoulder, Duaxitrun. Duaxitrun seemed to be asleep at the moment, however, and Elya seemed to be nodding off herself.
Entozca, a druid warrioress, was seated at the table, drumming her fingers slowly against the table. Every once and a while, the wood would warp slightly to her fingers and then return to its shape.
In another corner stood Aodhas, perhaps the one Mi Ogi had dealt with the least. As far as she knew, he was out in the wilderness most of the time, but she knew he was called the Shadow Frost for some reason. Ayeulion had found him, but she knew very little else.
And finally, was her own personal friend, the planeswalker Xihan, a woman who had ascended to demigodhood on their plane before planeswalking. Now she sat at the table, her wide brimmed hat dipping over her face to cover her eyes.
Mi Ogi quickly shuffled over and took a seat next to Xihan. She pulled out the red leather-bound book and passed it to her friend. “The most exciting and interesting thing happened while I was daydreaming today!”
“Ayeulion finally showed up to this meeting?” Xihan said, her eyes still closed.
“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute!” she replied.
Xihan nodded, still not opening her eyes. “I’m sure,” she said sarcastically, reaching out and picking up the book in front of her. Finally, she opened her eyes and briefly scanned over the most recent pages.
“They looked at you? And spoke to you?” Xihan asked, glancing to Mi Ogi out of the corner of her eye.
Mi Ogi nodded. “I was so surprised I basically snapped out of it!”
Xihan closed the book and handed it back to her. “I’ll keep a lookout for this giant heron—”
Xihan was cut off as a loud flapping sound came from above. Mi Ogi glanced up, and sure enough, Ayeulion was quickly descending from above.
“I apologize for the delay!” he shouted, landing next to Idella and promptly taking a seat. “We can start now.”
Idella looked over at him. “No, no, don’t worry Ayeulion. None of us are pressed for time. You could delay us another hour if that suits you? Come on, I mean, you’ve already forced us to wait on you.”
Ayeulion smiled. “Well, this chaos doesn’t stop, so…”
Idella reached over and yanked his wing slightly. “Oh, shut up already you oaf!”
Ayeulion nodded. His wings lowered with his eyes.
“Alright,” Idella continued. “Now that we’re finally all here, we might as well get this started.” She motioned to the seats around the table, and the room of figures quickly shuffled to their seats. “We’re here to attempt to put an end to this. I don’t care what motivates you to sit at this table, only that you are committed to this in some capacity. If it hasn’t been made clear by the fact that this was all organized by Ayeulion and I, an angel and demon, I don’t care who you are, only that you are here to cooperate towards our shared ends.”
She nodded to Ayeulion. He swirled his hand, and from thin air produced a rolled parchment.
“This,” Idella pressed on, “Is the treaty that we are here for today. It is a commitment on our part to work together to end this crisis, and to end the suffering it has caused. It is for the protection of the communities we serve, and for the improvement of the condition of communities yet to come.”
Ayeulion flicked his wrist, and the parchment unfurled into a long document. Idella placed the orb she had been swirling on the table, and it opened to reveal ink and a quill. She picked up the quill, dipped it, and signed the floating document.
“It’s not magical ink, don’t worry,” Ayeulion said with a smile. “But please, signing this document is a commitment to the cause and will be seen as such. You can be expected to be held to that.”
Slowly, Mi Ogi watched the document pass around the table, each person signing it. She was surprised a little when even Duaxitrun signed it (telepathically of course), but then realized it was such a stupid thing to be surprised about.
The parchment landed in front of her, and she grabbed the quill. This was a commitment to protect people. She could become the hero she loved to read about, to daydream about. With fervor, she signed it. She only hoped in years to come, people would tell stories about how she too signed the Treaty of Mektalor.
End of Story VIStory V, Part I
Lei Dao sat with her legs crossed pristinely as she watched the dozens of dignitaries streamed through the halls of the Illuminate Palace. As the eminents passed by, Lei Dao scanned their movements briefly. After a moment, she dropped her gaze, and picked up the book beside her, turning to the page she had left off on.
Though one might think she should care about the eminents in front of her, especially because of her own position, she really could not care any less. In fact, caring about those pompous fools was perhaps the most reckless action she could take. She was, after all (at least as she was known to others), the Emperor’s Insurance. She was not his eyes, nor his ears. Her only duty was to protect the interests of the Emperor.
As she resumed her reading, her eyes caught a brief glimpse of movement, as though someone had moved towards her. She raised her gaze. Sure enough, striding towards her was one of the dignitaries, draped in his fanciest clothes, carrying with him his uptight air of self-entitlement.
“Excuse me,” he said, stopping in front of Dao. “I heard you are the Emperor’s Insurance?”
Lei Dao looked at the man and tilted her head. “You may address me as Ms. Lei, as everyone else does, and it is a courtesy to bow.”
It took a moment for the sharp words to cut into the man’s mind. He quickly took a step back and bowed. “I apologize, Ms. Lei.”
She scanned the man up and down. The arrogance of his approach was still on her mind. Perhaps it was because his bow was rather shallow. “It’s also a courtesy to bow fully, as though I’m an equal.”
The man seemed to freeze before slowly entering a deeper bow. “Forgive me, Ms. Lei.”
She closed her book. She had the feeling that this would be something that would take a while. “Yes. Now what can I be bothered to help you with?”
The man rose from his bow. “I have come into some intel about some shady dealings between some…”
“I’m afraid that’s not my business,” she replied, cutting him off.
“Are you not the one that makes sure the Emperor’s interests are being upheld.”
“Yes,” she nodded, “But not in that manner. You have to find someone else to scheme with.”
“It doesn’t make much sense though,” the man stammered. “If you protect the Emperor’s interests you should be concerned with what I have to say.”
Lei Dao sighed, and crossed her legs the other way. “I’m impartial in the matter. It’s the Emperor’s interests, not mine, so it’s all for the Emperor to decide, not me. If I were to make those decisions for myself, well then, I would be serving my interests, not the Emperors.”
At this time, Lei Dao noticed a young woman, clearly not one of the dignitaries, probably a clerk or something, shuffling towards them. She bowed deeply, cutting the man off as he was about to speak. “Ms. Lei, I have an urgent message I am trying to deliver to the Emperor, but none of his ambassadors will take my message.”
Lei Dao chuckled, and turned her legs body towards the young woman. “You’re a courier, yes?”
The young woman nodded, still folded into her bow. “Yes, for Marchioness Cironia. The ambassadors won’t meet with me because I’m not the Marchioness herself.”
Lei Dao shook her head and smiled. A simple misunderstanding created by bureaucratic technicalities.
The dignitary standing there coughed. “Of course,” he said, “A leader of any of the territories of the empire must deliver such messages themselves to ensure authenticity.”
Lei Dao held up her hand to stop the man from speaking. “That is the case except for border territories ruled by a Marquess or Marchioness. Due to their place on the border, they may send emissaries and couriers to the Emperor so that they can maintain stability at the border.”
Lei Dao held out her hand. Of course, there was a specific protocol for doing so, and it was a kept secret with the Emperor, the Marquesses and Marchionesses, and a few others. It was time to see if this courier was truly versed in the protocol for delivering such a message.
Still bowing, the woman produced a small golden emblem, inlaid with small silver and crimson crystals. She offered it to Lei Dao, who took it, and examined it. Surely enough, it was the emblem of the Marchioness, though more than that, it was the Marchioness’ personal emblem, and it was authentic. Lei Dao handed it back to the woman.
“Continue,” Lei Dao said. The woman produced an envelope bearing the seal of the Marchioness. The seal was unbroken. Lei Dao nodded.
The woman finally ascended from her bow. “The Marchioness is requesting more troops to fortify the Petal Point Pass.”
The dignitary, who Lei Dao had forgotten was there, laughed. “The Marchioness must be pretty ignorant to think that the Emperor would just send troops with the rising insurrections.”
Lei Dao glared at the man. “That is a matter for the Emperor to decide. Not to mention that the insurrections are meant to be dealt with by local authorities, which I’m sure you should be a part of.”
“The Marchioness is concerned about the advancing waves of refugees that are attempting to break through the Pass,” the woman continued, “But she is more concerned now that the Holy Auspex has called for a Crusade, and our projections place his only point of entrance into the empire through the Petal Point Pass.”
At the Auspex’s name, Lei Dao turned her head back to the woman. That wasn’t a name she was expecting to hear. These days, most discussions focused on the rising insurrection being spurred by the so called “Liberation from Heaven”. The Holy Auspex was a different problem.
“The Holy Auspex?” the man snickered. “What is that some religious zealot? Can’t be any worse than what we’re dealing with here with Melishir.”
“It is quite worse,” Lei Deo sighed. “According to our records, the Holy Auspex is a zombie that has lived on Amsu for thousands of years.”
“A zombie?” The man interjected. “You’re scared of a zombie?”
“By some unknown means,” Lei Dao continued, ignoring the dignitary completely, “he seems to be unlike other zombies in that he possesses an acute sense of self and an intact will. With that, he desires another body.”
“So just give him one, and be done with it? One less zombie.”
Lei Dao shook her head. The stupidity of these dignitaries was astounding. “He only desires the body of a certain type; that of a traveler from another world. Only a body like that could possibly restore him. Throughout Amsu’s history, when these travelers have appeared on Amsu, he has declared a ‘Crusade’, in which he has rallied thousands of lost souls to hunt those travelers. In each case, he has been thwarted, but it is unclear how he has been thwarted. All we know is that over the thousands of years, he has become more enraged and more dangerous.
“I’ll pass this on to the Emperor,” she finished, nodding to the woman. Of all the dignitaries and district leaders, Marchioness Cironia was perhaps the one that Lei Dao like the most. Perhaps she shouldn’t be that biased in her profession, but for Lei Dao, Cironia was one of the few who grasped what it took to lead in Amsu’s new reality.
As Marchioness of one of the border territories, Cironia was tasked with keeping the border intact. With the chaos occurring in planar collapse, there were thousands of refugees flocking to the empire’s borders. Cironia’s territory, Petal Point Pass, was the only passage into the empire from the eastern front. And she held that territory with a bloody fist.
In the name of the safety of the empire’s people, she refuses entry to almost all who arrive, and she disposes of those who linger for “the greater good.” In fact, Lei Dao was certain that Cironia would light the whole pass ablaze to keep her borders safe.
They were the same in that regard. For people like Lei Dao and Cironia, it’s not about the people, it’s about the principle.
End of Story V
Story VI, Part I
The wind whispered its way through the open face of the room. Tasja sat in her chair, looking out of the great hole in the tower’s wall. At one point, this had certainly been a great observatory of some erudite researcher. But now, it lay in shambles, with a good number of its walls missing and the scientific paraphernalia looted or in shambles.
In with the wind wisped white ethereal strings, the marks of spirits waylaid by the catastrophe some called planar collapse. They swam through the air towards her, before calmly resting in the space around her.
The spirits of her world had told her of the impending doom moments before her world had fallen through the sky. And in their final moments, they shielded her before being obliterated by the void and being dispersed into the aether. Here, she had felt more alone than she had in years, since before she had found her connections with the restless dead. The spirits of her world had sacrificed themselves to make sure she had made it safely, but when she arrived, she found that she struggled to want to go on without them.
Then, as though by providence, her mind was filled with the screams of the sufferings of thousands. Soon, she was surrounded by countless spirits of the restless dead, those who had perished so close to surviving the catastrophe that their souls had not been consumed by the void. And the souls of those taken by subsequent conflicts on this world began to flock to her soon.
She had taken up in this observatory as a place to give those spirits refuge. Certainly, they would not find rest any time soon, but they could at least rest from the dangers of this world. After all, the spirits of the dead were often the first to be exploited in such a calamity.
Apparently, word must have gotten out that she was protecting spirits in the observatory. As she stared out over the plains beyond the observatory’s walls, she chuckled to herself about how many soldiers the nearby kingdoms had mustered. She doubted that even a couple of handfuls in the thousands standing out on the open plains could even hold a blade against an ethereal enemy like a spirit. The others were just new spirits waiting to be born.
One of the spirits manifested beside her. “Lady Tasja, what should we—”
“It’s fine,” she replied, rubbing her temple. One of the side effects of her powers of communicating with the restless dead were painful headaches. And one of them was annoyingly deciding to surface now. “The tower is warded. They can’t break in and they’re really not a threat.”
She watched as catapults lined up in the rows of soldiers drew back to fire, before their projectiles were ignited.
In a few short seconds, the catapults hurled their projectiles towards the tower. Tasja rubbed her temple a little more rigorously as the projectiles collided with her magical wards, evaporating, and shaking the tower.
She closed her eyes and braced herself for another moment of the tower’s shaking. She wondered how many volleys it would take before the kingdoms’ forces below realized it was a futile endeavor.
But no further attacks came.
She opened her eyes, surprised to find several of the spirits around her to have manifested. They were all petrified in a state of shock.
Tasja followed their stares out over the plains, until it landed upon a great, massive door that was now standing in the mountains behind the kingdom’s forces. Tasja rose to her feet.
She felt a drop of fear enter her blood. The great, ancient door stood silent above the plains, and the army below stood still in awe.
“Quick, get all of the nearby spirits inside my ward,” she said, turning to the spirits behind her. She only had until…
The door opened.
Story VI, Part II
“Stop!” Tasja yelled. “Stay inside, there’s no time.”
From the door emerged silently the sigh of a thousand screams and the extinguishing of infinite lives.
And then a blur flashed across the plains, and in a moment, the armies below stood still. This time though, they were not struck in awe, but struck in the coldness of death. And their silent screams and sighs added to the chorus of infinite suffering that was now echoing across the plains.
Tasja covered her mouth.
One of the spirits appeared at her side. “It’s the Ninth Door,” it muttered.
Tasja nodded. The Ninth Door. That meant that the one thing that was still living on the battlefield below was Kejouwei. Some of the spirits had told her the ancient legend of the Nine Doors when she had first arrived. They were from one of the worlds that had fallen across the sky. Legend had it that in times of great upheaval, one of the Nine Doors would emerge, and its patron spirit would be released upon the world. Each spirit had different inclinations, and the patron spirit of the Ninth Door, named Kejouwei, was one inclined towards the creation of suffering. Tales told that it killed and then bound the spirits of those it killed, forcing them into endless servitude.
She shook her head. As quickly as Kejouwei had silenced those soldiers, it had silenced their souls. She could feel that their restlessness had been instantly quelled as Kejouwei’s chains had fallen upon them.
“Tasja.” The spirit next her spoke once more. She looked over and noticed the spirit pointing down to the plains. She followed the spirit’s directions and looked.
There, at the base of her tower, just outside of her ward, was a spirit. It must have stood some eight to ten feet tall. Slowly, behind it were gathering the corpses and spirits of those felled on the plains below. As she stared down, the spirit raised its head, three porcelain-white faces revealing themselves from behind the red veils that hung from its conical headpiece. Each face seemed to be looking at her, even though they seemed as lifeless as a porcelain mask. Perhaps they were.
“Will the ward hold?” the spirit beside Tasja asked. She could sense the fear in its voice.
Tasja nodded. “Yes. But you all cannot leave this tower. Kejouwei’s chains will ensnare any of you that leave my wards.”
Kejouwei lowered its head, turned, and stalked off. The corpses and spirits it had shackled followed behind.
“I’m going to have to increase the range of my wards.”
Tasja had completely forgotten about the throbbing headache in her temple. Now, as she watched Kejouwei walk off with thousands of enslaved souls, it returned with more ferocity than ever before.
End of Story VI
Just noticed I made a mistake earlier. This is actually story VI, not the story with Mi Ogi (that was supposed to be IV whoops), but it's too late to change it so whatever! Cheers!