BLOODLINES
©1999 Wizards of the Coast LLC.
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of Wizards of the Coast LLC.
Published by Wizards of the Coast LLC. Wizards of the Coast, Magic: The Gathering, their respective logos, and all character names and their distinctive likenesses are property of Wizards of the Coast LLC in the U.S.A. and other countries.
Cover art: Kev Walker
First Printing: August 1999
eBook Publication: March 2018
Original ISBN 9780786913800
Ebook ISBN 9780786966424
640-C5605000-001
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v5.2
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Preface: The Legacy
Book I: The Human Component-(3385-3571 A.R.)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Book II: The Spark of Life-(3655-3863 A.R.)
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Book III: Natural Selection-(4013-4169 A.R.)
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue: The heir
Barrin paused in the classroom’s open doorway, his charitable mood fading.
Barely an hour returned to the Tolarian Academy, the master mage had decided to walk a quick tour of the main building before retiring, a habit he formed over his many years as the academy’s chief administrator. Tonight it possessed the added benefit of giving Rayne a chance to finish her own unpacking. Her private apartment was not far down Scholar’s Row from his own, and when she finished, he thought, they might linger over a second exchange of goodnights
Seeing light spilling down the tiled hallway, Barrin decided to offer assistance to what was certainly tutors up late preparing the next day’s lessons. Students, of course, obeyed a strict curfew, and the academy’s full scholars rarely, if ever, required such late-night preparations. Rayne was likely to be waiting for him—a slight twinge against his conscience—but he knew that in his place she also would be checking in to offer advice. Besides, adding his personal touch helped to keep Barrin in contact with the daily functions of the academy. This had been, after all, his first real leave of absence.
The first thing Barrin noticed was that someone had punched a new door into the classroom. The rough hole in the previously complete wall stood open, not even framed, and at odds with the smooth plaster and elegant woodwork finishes put on academy facilities. A curiosity turned slightly alarming when he recognized the room beyond contained Urza’s primary laboratory. That alarm lasted mere seconds, as Urza himself walked from the back room followed by the silver golem Karn. Both of them carried books and scrolls which they added to a growing pile surrounding the lectern. Barrin frowned over the activity. His scowl deepened as he realized that Urza was too distracted to have yet noticed the mage’s presence—a fact which should have been instantly registered by the planeswalker’s preternatural senses. A distracted Urza could be a most dangerous thing.
The man standing in front of Barrin was known throughout history as the defiler of Argoth and the harbinger of the Ice Age, though Urza himself could not—or would not—admit with one hundred percent certainty that the global catastrophe resulted from his efforts. Barrin was inclined to give the planeswalker the benefit of the doubt, especially since his track record had improved since coming back to Tolaria after the last major disaster, but benefit of the doubt was one thing, careless blind faith was another. The master mage was feeling a bit unnerved by the sight of the deeply focused Urza. As he approached the lectern, Barrin recognized in the ‘walker’s intense stare and disconnected manner that same fanatical drive that motivated and created the last set of cataclysmic events. He knew that Urza was again obsessing on his personal crusade: Phyrexia.
Those creatures had once been the ancient Dominarian race of the Thran—who at the height of their achievements had mastered a level of artifice unknown to anyone since—save perhaps Urza himself. Then some kind of war tore the Thran from their advanced ways and sent them hurtling down a darker path toward wicked corruption. They were forced to leave Dominaria for an artificially created plane—nine spheres nested inside one another turning blacker and more torturous the closer they get to the center—and after a time they emerged from their exile as the twisted, hideous abominations that have plagued Urza for millennia. For the loss of his brother, for the death of his one-time traveling companion Xantcha, for replacing that which was human with corrupted artifice the realm of Phyrexia had earned its place as Urza’s enemy, one planeswalker against nine nested spheres of malignant, venomous force. His vendetta had nearly cost him his life—existence rather—several times over. So far, others had paid that price for him.
Though obsession was doubly dangerous in a being so powerful, Barrin could understand Urza’s pain and nearly forgive the planeswalker his costly mistakes. Barrin believed in Urza’s war on Phyrexia, believed that they would return to Dominaria (had seen them with his own eyes), and that without Urza and the efforts of the Tolarian Academy there would be little in the way of stopping them. For that reason Barrin had helped create the Weatherlight, the skyship that would presumably be the ultimate weapon against the day of invasion. Barrin always doubted the veracity of such an assertion, but Urza had stood adamant—convinced.
If this weapon was capable of defending Dominaria from invasion, why was Urza again demonstrating the distracted intensity which Barrin had learned to recognize and fear?
Karn noticed the mage’s approach first, his deep-set eyes widening with recognition. The silver golem certainly would have spoken a greeting if Barrin had not been prepared and spoke first. Seldom it was that Barrin could take Urza by surprise, and usually he learned something from it—never too old to be a student.
“I had not heard of your return, Urza. Welcome back.” Urza had disappeared six months ago, after helping to settle the refugees from Serra’s Realm across Dominaria and returning only once with a handful of new students and three new scholars, including Rayne.
Urza did not bother to turn around. He simply reformed the patterns of energy which made up his body so that suddenly he faced Barrin. He was obviously too preoccupied for the more subtle nuances which gave the illusion of his still being of normal mortal flesh.
“Barrin,” he greeted neutrally, “I expected you back three days ago.”
How are you? How was your leave? Such courtesies were left as far behind the planeswa
lker as normal life.
“My chances for time away from the academy come seldom. We—I decided to take a few extra days at Angelwood. It’s not difficult to lose track of time on Tolaria.”
The planeswalker did not even bother to feign chagrin at the reference to the island’s temporally-shattered areas where time flowed at different speeds, by-products of the catastrophic failure of Urza’s earlier experiments with time travel. Angelwood was a moderate slow-time environment where the enhanced sunlight and frequent but gentle rains created a paradise of lakes and shaded glades. It was a favorite among academy staff for sabbaticals, though the time differential worked against those desiring an extended term away from work. Meeting Rayne during his vacation had seemed to shorten it even more, the time passing so quickly in conversation and shared meals.
She was a rarity in many ways, not the least of which being that she was one of perhaps a few dozen adult scholars ever admitted to Tolaria. Phyrexians planted sleeper agents all over Dominaria but always as adults—never children. Security at the academy usually demanded that new students be admitted when they were in their young teens. Senior students were promoted to tutors, and then they could advance to scholars and eventually might serve as chancellor, one of the eight academy administrators. Rayne’s natural talent for artifice had won her admission and instant status as a tutor. Four months later Barrin had signed papers promoting her to full scholar, but it wasn’t until their chance meeting at Angelwood that the mage had truly learned to appreciate her. She had long black hair that accented her delicate features, and she possessed an impressive mind and commanded a strong yet subtle presence. Barrin couldn’t explain such feelings to the planeswalker. Urza, Barrin doubted, would not understand. Caught up in his obsession, the ‘walker barely recognized the civilities of friendship.
Not so Karn.
“It is good to see you again, Master Barrin,” the silver golem rumbled out of his cavernous chest, putting an end to the awkward pause that followed Urza’s lack of response.
To Barrin, Karn still sounded a bit despondent. Ever since Jhoira’s decision to leave Tolaria, the golem had been unable to hide his melancholy. Jhoira had been the golem’s best friend for several decades, and even though the silver man claimed to understand why she left, time did not heal his wounds.
“Did you enjoy Angelwood?” he asked.
Barrin smiled, as much for Karn’s courtesy as for the fond memories of the last few weeks. “Very much, Karn. Thank you.”
“Good,” Urza said brusquely, “because we have some hard work ahead of us, important work.” He waved Karn off. “I will need several new desks, Karn, and a large worktable.”
The silver golem nodded perfunctorily to Urza, offered Barrin a grim smile, and then trudged off to fulfill Urza’s request.
“So important that it could not wait for tomorrow?” asked Barrin, now resigning himself to a long evening.
“We have delayed too long already.” Urza glanced toward the classroom’s main sketchboard, covered with a script Barrin recognized as a meld of ancient Thran and the modern Argivian used as the Academy standard. “I’ve proceeded as far as I am able alone. Completing the Legacy will require the facilities of the entire academy if we are to have our defenses readied against the Phyrexian invasion.”
Urza paused, nodded as if agreeing with himself, and then turned away from Barrin and the conversation. He picked up a large roll of plans and moved to the wall, unrolling and pinning them up against a fresh sponge-wood board. They described an apparatus of titanic size and complexity.
“I will annex this room until the new labs are built.” He studied the plans with a critical eye. “I wish I could find Serra and ask her some more questions.”
Thrown off by the abrupt changes of topic, Barrin stared at the planeswalker for a moment, then just shook his head. “New labs?” he asked. “Urza, why should we—”
The planeswalker interrupted without turning. “The existing ones are fine and will certainly be utilized, but cannot accommodate the needs of the Lens and Matrix.”
So much for clarification.
“Urza?” Barrin began but was again cut off.
“I know that the auxiliary lenses will capture ambient mana.” Urza traced a long finger over one area of the plans he studied. “Filters, perhaps? To separate the mana before focusing?”
“Urza.”
“Filters, yes certainly. She must have used them. Even Serra’s Realm was not purely white mana. She mentioned that total purity was not possible. The question is can the Matrix focus one source of mana in alteration of the more basic—”
“Urza!”
In the large open classroom, designed with an ear toward acoustics, Barrin’s shout rang out like a thunderclap. Urza turned slowly from the board and his new plans, whatever they were for, to face the mage. The planeswalker’s eyes sparked with fire, and Barrin recognized them as the twin powerstones over which Urza had fought his brother over three millennia ago. They surfaced in times of weakness or intensity (when the planeswalker was too distracted to maintain the illusion of normal eyes). Barrin possessed no doubts that this was one of the latter.
“The Weatherlight,” Barrin said simply, naming the sky-borne vessel the academy had worked so hard to create, a warship capable of traveling between the planes of the multiverse. “The Weatherlight was supposed to be your ultimate weapon. It is the core of our defense, the one thing that the Phyrexians will be hard-pressed to match.”
Urza smiled, a bit sadly. “I was overconfident,” he said. “The Weatherlight can inspire hope with the wondrous feats already at its command, and it will hurt Phyrexia badly in limited engagements, but it will not win the war on its own.” He paused, his eyes regaining their illusion of being still human. “Barrin, you were there—in Serra’s Realm. That was one battle, and we nearly lost it. Alone, the Weatherlight would have fallen. We still have work to do.”
“It was under powered,” the mage said, playing at contrariness and defending the Weatherlight to keep Urza talking.
“It was inadequate,” Urza said with great weight, putting an end to the argument. “The Weatherlight is the core of the Legacy, not its entirety. Indeed, it may buy us the time we need to complete our defense. As you once pointed out, we cannot assume I will always be present to direct the battle against Phyrexia. The Phyrexians still hunt me with their negators. Other planeswalkers present a threat as well, and there are always unforeseen…occurrences.” Urza possibly alluded to the years he spent as a prisoner of Yavimaya. “Fate might yet intervene, and though I tend to believe that even fate will not dare gainsay my claim to oppose this evil, I will not rely on that fact. Plans must be set down against the future to finish the Weatherlight.”
Barrin considered the Weatherlight as she already sailed. The airship had fantastic speed, powerful armaments, and the ability to travel between planes. What more was there? True, Barrin concentrated on magic over artifice, but in the decades he had spent with Urza he’d picked up a feeling for the craft. The Weatherlight was, in his opinion, already the ultimate artifact, with design mated to purpose. Perhaps they could add a few trappings—install some minor features. Wouldn’t it be better to begin looking elsewhere for answers?
When he put those thoughts into words, Urza readily disillusioned him. “The Weatherlight is more than any regular artifact, defined by its purpose and static in its function. It lives.” As if realizing the implication of his words, he quickly amended the concept. “Not as you live, of course, nor even Karn, but it shares one thing in common with you both—the ability to evolve, to grow beyond its current form and ability. The Legacy will be a series of artifacts, crafted over the years, that can be introduced to the Weatherlight at a later date. Before you ask why we did not incorporate such features into the vessel from the beginning,” he said, forestalling Barrin’s question, “it is because of time constraints and secrecy. There are features I have not even conceptualized yet that will eventually be crafted
, I am sure. Even were we able to add all possible features to the ship now, its power signature would stand out like a blinding beacon, drawing Phyrexia after it. As it is, the Weatherlight will be hard to track until nearer the moment of its final purpose.”
The scope of the project left Barrin nearly dumbfounded. “What is that purpose?” he asked, caught up in the vision and expecting now the grand revelation.
Instead, Urza admitted, “I don’t know.”
Barrin blinked back his surprise.
“The Weatherlight is the grandest artifact ever conceived.” Urza flapped his arms, once, in a very human gesture of frustration. “As I envision it, the vessel will be able to evolve and do almost anything imaginable. What is that to be? Who will imagine it? When will the invasion come? Where? What will be the key to its ultimate defeat?” His voice rose, its edge of frustration and frenzy cutting apart Barrin’s earlier confidence. “Questions! Only questions. I have no answers, not yet.” He took a few seconds to regain control of himself. “This is why the bloodlines will be so important.”
Again, Urza had jumped three steps ahead in his thinking, apparently assuming Barrin to be gifted with sight that allowed him to peer into another’s mind.
“‘Bloodlines’?” the master mage asked, doubt touching his voice as if unsure he had heard correctly. It was not the kind of term to encourage confidence and peace of mind.
“Of course, bloodlines,” Urza said, exasperated. “The second half of the Legacy. A human component. Haven’t you been listening? We can’t say for sure that I will be present for the invasion. There must be someone for the masses to follow who will understand how to beat Phyrexia, someone who will know how to use the Weatherlight in order to save Dominaria.” He gestured back to the sketchboard where flowing Thran script mingled with Argivian. “Within the bloodlines we will discover the inheritor of my Legacy, and in the meantime the project will provide us with warriors with which to stand against Phyrexia and its agents.” He stepped closer to the board, his voice softening and taking on messianic tones. “They will be Dominaria’s soldiers. One among them will be its salvation.”
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