by Jess Lebow
Memnarch’s fortress climbed high into the air, higher than any other structure on the interior. Where each of its five walls joined the next, the line was so sharp and straight, it looked as if it would cut through flesh like a razor. The top rose to a needlelike point, perched atop a room made entirely of glass, opened to the world for all to see in—and for those inside to see out.
From a distance, the tower looked like just one more perfectly formed mycosynth monolith. Up close, it looked more like the scepter of a giant king. Its base was thick and heavy. Its top was adorned with a hefty jewel. Its sides were intricately designed to give off a regal air of power and grace.
A pair of wide doors on the ground floor opened up, and Glissa stopped. She looked up at the Kaldra Champion, then she looked at Bosh and Slobad.
“You ready?”
All three nodded.
The doors lay open, the light of the mana core reflecting off the edges, not penetrating into its depths. Then the darkness beyond began to move. Shadows coalesced into nightmares, and an army burst forth, their shiny hides reflecting back the interior sun’s blinding rays.
“Levelers,” said Glissa and Slobad in unison.
Glissa stepped off the hover hoverer and drew her sword. In a flash the metal beasts were on them. Scythe blades rang out, and the elf parried blow after blow. Catching the tip of her darksteel sword in a joint, she pried free a bolt. After so many fights with these beasts, she knew where to hit them to do the most damage.
Her strike was clean, and one side of her foe sloughed to the ground. Its left half now unarmored, Glissa reversed her stroke and cut deep into the device. That was all it took, two strokes, and the leveler was dead.
Across the way, Slobad loosed his crowbar. Hopping into the air, he jumped over the razor blades of the attacking horde to land atop a leveler. With a practiced flare, the goblin tore into the killing device, taking apart its metal hide in a blink and disabling it with a twist of his hand. Then he was off, leaving the lifeless hulk to rust on the battlefield.
Behind them, Bosh beat the metal devices into the ground. He kicked holes in their hides and tore their insides out. He smashed their vision crystals, blinding them before he dented in their heads, and he ripped their steering sails off. Without them, the levelers could only turn right, and they spun in place, looking like ballerinas dancing a deadly ballet on the battlefield.
Towering above them all was the Kaldra Champion. With each of his great magical fists he smashed a leveler flat. With each of his feet he stomped them into foil.
It was a massacre of titanic proportions. For each victim these killing devices had claimed on the surface of Mirrodin, the elf, goblin, golem, and champion visited five blows upon their heads. The battlefield rang with the screeching of metal, and the ground was piled with debris.
The fighting stopped. The levelers, usually fearless and unrelenting, retreated. Behind them, the gates to Panopticon lay open, and a pair of figures emerged. One was bipedal. His skin shone brilliantly under the glare of the mana core.
The other walked on all fours, not like a wolf or a lion, but more like a spider with only four legs. Unlike his counterpart, this one did not sparkle or reflect the blinding light. Instead he looked a pale blue, as if he were made of flesh instead of metal.
As the pair marched toward them, Glissa recognized the shorter, two-legged creature. “Malil.”
The other bore a striking resemblance to the metal man. Not in his body or even his face—for this creature had six eyes, each covered with a deep blue lens—but in his mannerisms. They were like a father and his son. Each looked different, but both came from the same lineage, carrying the same build, the same set of ancestors—and the same scars.
The levelers parted, and the two creatures stopped a handful of steps from Glissa and her companions.
“I have watched you for so very long, Glissa,” said the spindly legged creature. “At times I have wondered if we would ever meet face to face. Now here you are.”
Glissa gripped her sword. “Everyone seems to know me, but who are you?”
The creature lowered his head and front legs in an elaborate bow. “I am the Guardian of Mirrodin, keeper of all you see.” He stood up. “You may call me Memnarch.”
Something inside Glissa snapped, and she leaped forward, covering the distance between her and Memnarch in two great bounds. With a howl, she hurled her blade at the crablike creature, driven by more than strength or speed, but by the hatred she had harbored for this man since her parents’ death.
Her steel blade whistled, and Malil lunged forward, trying to get between her and Memnarch, but he was too late. The elf’s fury was swift, and the sword connected with one of the Guardian’s legs.
With a great creak and a loud pop, Glissa’s weapon clove through the joint, and the six-eyed creature listed to his left.
Time stopped. A cathartic release rushed through Glissa’s whole body, grabbing her by the spine and shaking every part of her, from top to bottom. This was the moment she’d been living for. This was her revenge, and she’d struck the first blow. Happiness and grief warred with each other, and tears formed in her eyes. Justice was near.
There was a spine-tingling screech, and Memnarch pulled back, waving his hands in the air.
Glissa was lifted from the ground by an invisible force and thrown back. The world blurred. Wind rushed in her ears, and the elf crashed into the ground a hundred paces away from where she had been standing.
Memnarch lifted himself up, rising to the full height of his long, spindly legs. “How dare you?” he shouted. Raising his hand again, he lifted Glissa from the ground with an invisible, magical force, letting her dangle in midair. “I am your god. You should worship me.”
“There is no god in Mirrodin.” Glissa kicked and struggled, but it was no use, she was held fast.
“Facts are fact, no matter if you believe them or not.” Sidling over on his three good limbs, Memnarch looked her straight in the eyes. “That is inconsequential. You have something I want.”
Glissa glared at him. “You took everything I had when you killed my family.”
Memnarch titled his head. “Not everything.” He grabbed the floating elf’s chin, examining her face. “I do not know where the planeswalker spark resides, but it is enough that I have you.” Turning around he found Malil. “Take her to the containment cell.” He looked back at the goblin and the golem. “Kill the others.”
Slobad started jumping up and down. “Smash him!” he shouted.
In a flash the Kaldra Champion swooped in. Malil jumped in front of Memnarch, putting himself between the Guardian and the Champion.
Raising his greatsword, Malil charged the construct. His blade connected then bounced away, having done no damage to the magical avatar.
With a swipe of its hand, the Kaldra Champion knocked Malil back against the wall of Panopticon. His body made a clang as it impacted, then he slid to the ground, disappearing from view behind a pile of ruined levelers.
The avatar moved in on Memnarch, raising his fists, ready to smash the Guardian.
Memnarch placed his hands to his forehead. A beam of brilliant blue mana shot from his eyes. The magical energy swirled around and around the towering Champion. With each revolution, the light spread out, like thread unwinding from a spool, and it surrounded the Champion in a giant sapphire egg.
The mana solidified, and the Kaldra Champion disappeared, swallowed whole by a throbbing blue sphere.
Glissa dropped slowly to the ground, her hopes of bringing justice to her parents’ killer fading.
The giant egg cracked, and the hardened shell dropped away, cascading to the ground in a shower of tiny blue bits. Inside, the Kaldra Champion still stood, seemingly unharmed.
“You claim there is no god here, Glissa,” said Memnarch. “Perhaps this will change your mind.” He looked up at the immobile Champion. “Seize her.”
The Kaldra Champion turned on Glissa. With its magical palms
outstretched, it lurched forward, grasping at the elf. Its hand slapped the ground just as Glissa leaped away, just barely missing being smashed.
“Careful,” shouted Memnarch. “We need her alive.”
Glissa scampered behind a broken leveler. The Champion knocked it aside—sending it spinning through the air and floated forward, looming over the elf.
Glissa looked up at the magical construct she had placed so much hope in. It floated there, ready to snatch her up. Nothing in this world turned out as it should. Nothing she had been told since her childhood had been true. She had placed her trust in something that had been untested, and now she was paying the price.
There was nothing that could be counted on, nothing worth trusting. If she lived through this, she promised herself, she would trust no one but herself—ever again.
The Kaldra Champion reached again for the elf. Glissa backpedaled, but her heel caught on something. It was Pontifex’s hoverer, and she tripped over it. The Champion’s hand closed down around her. Closing her eyes, she prepared to be squashed—or worse.
A long second passed. Nothing happened.
Opening her eyes, Glissa saw the Kaldra Champion being dragged backward away from her. Standing at the base of the Champion’s lower body, straining with all of his might, Bosh had both of his arms wrapped around the magical creature, and he pulled it away from her.
Though Bosh was only a third of the Kaldra Champion’s size, he still had the strength to be a formidable opponent. The golem yanked hard, twisting the Champion’s body and hurling it toward Panopticon. The magical construct flew through the air, landing on the ground several meters shy of the tower’s wall.
Bosh turned to Glissa. “Run,” he shouted.
Glissa stood stunned for a moment. She couldn’t leave him.
“Run,” he yelled again, his eyes growing big in his head, his face creased with concern.
Slobad shot up beside her on Pontifex’s hoverer. “Come on.”
The Kaldra Champion righted itself and grabbed Bosh in one of its huge hands. The iron golem was lifted high into the air. He seemed resigned to his fate, not looking at the Champion but keeping his eyes focused on Glissa.
“Go,” he said, his lips forming the words, but no sound emerging. Then he smiled.
The Kaldra Champion squeezed Bosh, and the golem’s face wrinkled with pain. The sound of metal cracking filled her ears, and Glissa turned away. She couldn’t watch.
Stepping on behind Slobad, she whispered, “Go.”
At full speed, Glissa and Slobad flew away from Panopticon.
* * * * *
“After them,” shouted Memnarch.
The Kaldra Champion opened its fist and let its contents fall to the ground.
“I want the elf alive,” ordered the Guardian. “Alive!”
Silently, the Champion floated off in pursuit of the elf and the goblin.
Memnarch turned and headed back to Panopticon. Near the open doors he found Malil climbing to his feet behind a pile of broken levelers.
“Come, Malil,” said Memnarch. “We will watch from the Eye.”
* * * * *
When they had covered several hundred yards, Glissa looked back over her shoulder. As she did, the Kaldra Champion dropped Bosh’s smashed body to the ground.
“I was wrong,” said Glissa.
“ ’Bout what?”
The elf shook her head, fighting back her tears. “I had thought there was nothing worth trusting in this world.” She turned away from the pursuing Champion to put her hands on Slobad’s shoulders. “But there was … there is.”
“He good golem, huh?” said Slobad. “Slobad miss him.”
“Me too,” said the elf. “Me too.” Wiping her eyes she added, “Just do me a favor.”
The goblin nodded. “What you want, crazy elf?”
“Don’t get killed.”
Slobad nodded. “Slobad try, huh?” He glanced at the Champion behind them. “Not so easy.”
Glissa turned her attention back to their pursuer. Slobad was right, the Kaldra Champion was coming on fast.
“How far to the blue lacuna?”
“Close, huh?” replied Slobad.
Glissa and Slobad sped on, the Kaldra Champion right behind them. In the far distance they could see the entrance to the blue lacuna. To their left, another mycosynth forest loomed up under the mana core.
“Never make it,” said the goblin.
“We might be able to gain some ground if we went through the monoliths,” she shouted against the wind into Slobad’s ear.
“How? Slow us, huh?”
“But they’ll slow him even more,” she said, hitching her thumb over her shoulder.
Slobad shrugged. “Okay, crazy elf.” Leaning to his left, the goblin steered their hoverer toward the mycosynth. They sped off, the Champion gaining ground fast.
The strange crystalline growth rose up before them, and the Kaldra Champion loomed behind. Mere seconds from the edge of the forest, something came out from between two monoliths, blocking their path.
“Thresher,” shouted Slobad, and he leaned hard right.
Glissa wasn’t ready for the abrupt turn, and she slipped, falling off the hoverer and rolling to a stop.
The Champion ignored Slobad, zeroing in on the fallen elf. The thresher too had its sights set on Glissa, and the two pursuers sandwiched her between.
The thresher reached her first. It leaned back, opening up like the other she had faced near the black lacuna, ready to swallow her whole and carry her off. There was nothing Glissa could do but put her hands up to protect her head.
The Kaldra Champion bent down, ready to pluck her from the ground.
The leveler stopped dead in its tracks, its deep central cavern only inches from the elf’s head. A figure stepped out from inside, her hands held high.
“Bruenna!”
The wizard shouted a single power word, the rest of her spell already spoken. Screaming lines of blue power shot from the woman’s outstretched arms like a cannon. The blast hit the Kaldra Champion in the chest and froze him in place, bent over like a question mark, only a few feet from the two women.
Glissa got to her feet. “But how—?”
Bruenna interrupted her. “We must go. This spell won’t hold him for long.”
With that, the human cast another spell.
Glissa and Bruenna lifted from the ground, gifted with the ability to fly. Slobad had circled back, but seeing the two women soar into the air, he headed for the entrance to the lacuna.
The women followed the goblin, racing as fast as they could. As they entered the blue tunnel, they heard the Kaldra Champion let out a tremendous roar.
* * * * *
At the top of the Pool of Knowledge, Bruenna turned to the other two. “You must get to the Tangle,” she said. “You will have a better chance of beating this foe on your own ground.”
“You come with us, huh?” The goblin looked up at the wizard from the hoverer.
Bruenna shook her head. “I must go help defend my tribe.”
“We help you,” said the elf.
Bruenna once again shook her head. “You have problems of your own.” She smiled. “We will meet again, I think. For now our destinies lie on different paths.”
* * * * *
Glissa and Slobad shot from Lumengrid, headed for the elf’s home. They had abandoned Pontifex’s hoverer for Bruenna’s magic, and they flew now, out over the Quicksilver Sea and onto the plain. Not far behind, the Kaldra Champion pursued, though he could not fly. Having to follow on the ground slowed his progress considerably, and the pair managed to stay ahead of their tormentor.
“Do you ever think we’ll stop being chased?” asked the goblin.
“No,” replied Glissa. “I think it’s our lot in this life. Frankly, I was bored with it long ago.” She shrugged. “But what choice do we have?”
The pair approached the Tangle.
“What’s that?” Slobad pointed at t
he ground.
Glissa squinted. “Trolls,” she said. “The trolls have come to our aid.”
There, arrayed before the metal forest were about twenty-five burly, wrinkled trolls, each holding what looked like the trunk of a stout tree between his hands.
Coming down to the ground, Glissa was greeted by Drooge, leaning heavily on his staff.
“You are being followed.” The old troll pointed to the Kaldra Champion, growing larger in the near distance.
“And you have come to fight,” replied Glissa, “as you said you would.”
Drooge took a deep breath and nodded sadly. “This fight has only just begun.” He laid his thick palm on her shoulder, and he smiled. “Go,” he said. “We will keep him busy until you have reached the cover of the deep Tangle.”
Looking up into his eyes, the elf said, “Come with us. If we run deep enough, he won’t be able to get us. He’s too big.”
Drooge shook his head. “The trolls’ time has come,” he said, “but you, young Glissa, have a long life ahead. You are Mirrodin’s last and only hope.” He pushed her toward the interior of the forest. “Seek out the Radix, in the deepest part of the Tangle. It is there that you will find the most power. Go now and prepare yourself. Your fight yet awaits you.”
Glissa stumbled forward, the troll’s hand on her back. “But—”
“Please,” said Drooge. “You will do your part.” He turned back to the plain where the Kaldra Champion was nearly upon them. “Now we must do ours.”
Slobad grabbed Glissa by the hand and pulled her toward the deeper woods. “Come on, huh?”
Glissa took one look back, then she turned and headed into the Tangle, Slobad at her side. They ran as fast as they could, leaping over fallen trees and skirting razor-sharp vines. Soon the reflected light from the plain disappeared from view behind, replaced by the darkness of the deep forest.
A thumping boom reverberated, and the ground shook. The sounds of battle drifted in through the jungle canopy. Images of trolls fighting the Kaldra Champion ran through Glissa’s head. She wanted to turn, make her stand with the brave forest creatures, but that was not her fate.
