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deathsmajestyLiliana walked down the stone halls of the mausoleum, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. In regular intervals in the walls stood giant skeletons, her head only coming up to mid-chest, made even taller by the plinths they stood on. Humanoid, but not human; the sides of their faces were shadowed by ivory tusks, their arms too-long proportionally for their bodies, their legs too short. Some might recognize them as some breed of ogre.
Liliana knew they were Onakke, the ogres that lived on Shandalar.
This was the Onakke tomb. She was here for...something. Kothophed had sent her, even though Kothophed was dead. "Keep it in the light," his voice whispered, crawling through her mind like a slug. What is it's purpose? Not your concern. But if you try to use it, you'll regret it."
A laugh, cold and cruel, and when Kothophed spoke again, it was not his voice alone but joined by the Raven Man's.
"...And surely you have enough regrets."
And then it was simply the Raven Man's soothing baritone, like rotten ice under a thin skin of pristine snowfall. "Don't you, my Lili?"
"Shut up," Liliana mumbled. "...don't get to...not your Lili..."
She kept wandering through the stone halls, ignoring the beautiful carvings that adorned the walls, the bas-reliefs, the mosaics, the sophisticated frescoes. Where was it? Surely it must be here! She still couldn't quite remember what she was looking for, but she was getting more and more frantic as she searched and could not find it. First dread set in and then panic. No! She needed it! Where was it? Who had taken it?!
More whispers now, a chorus instead of just one or two, individual voices indistinct, a susurrus of malice. "For eons we have rotted in this tomb, too slowly the grains of time slide through the hourglass. The stars crawl their eternal circuit through the heavens while we remain trapped in darkness--waiting for the one who will set us free."
She'd heard those words before. She knew them. How did she know them? What did they mean?
"Could it be her? She has found the key. But is she strong enough to use it?"
"Be silent," she moaned. "No more. Be quiet."
Dread built. She knew what was coming. It was him, the dirt-mage, coming to take vengeance on her for killing a herd of wild pigs - wild pigs that had chased her, that had attacked her horse and killed it and would have done the same to her. What was his name? The Planeswalker when he'd stank only of animals and sweat, not corruption? Ah yes.
Garruk Wildspeaker.
For a moment the feeling of phantom hands rose up to crush her throat and Liliana ran. Because part of her recognized that this was a dream and any dream about being choked eventually turned into Then and even with the mounting dread, Now was better than Then and what waited for her in that destroyed sick room...
She ran into an atrium and there was the largest Onakke skeleton yet, a strand of carved beads winding from its tusks to hang down. This was it, this was what she was looking for, but she also knew that was a lie - she'd thought it had been the object of her search, but it hadn't been. It had only been the key. She blinked and it was in her hands, a doorway filled with purple light appearing in the wall next to her. Behind her, she could hear the Wildspeaker thrashing, his rage-filled howls losing sanity. She couldn't stay here, but she didn't want to go through the door, either. Didn't want whatever was waiting for her through that doorway.
But part of her did want it. Part of her exulted in it, gloried in it. It was power and power was dangerous and power came with a price and power brought with it regret...but when was power not worth the risk? Worth any risk?
"But a soul isn't a trinket you can hand over to a demon, or an ember it can seize upon your death." The deep rumble of Nicol Bolas' words, so deep she felt it in her feet as well as heard it with her ears. "You'll give up your soul, all right - because no one with a shred of soul could possibly undertake the tasks you will perform to pay off your debt. But why should that bother you after all that you have already done?"
And everything she would do in the future. A name danced just out of reach of her mind, just on the tip of her tongue.
"Tavelia..."
"Perhaps you have already given up your soul."
The name didn't pull back the curtain of forgetfulness. Whoever or whatever Tavelia was remained shrouded in shadows and for that, Liliana was grateful. Her footsteps carried her further and with the waning of the dragon's familiar voice came the waxing of the choir again. "This is hallowed earth. Here the seed took root. Here the void drew its first breath. The hourglass has shattered. Finally, it has begun."
"No. No." Liliana thrashed about. "Shut up."
Vessel of destruction. Vessel of corruption. Our vessel. Ours. You were promised to us. Ours. Ours. Ours.
"No!" Liliana bolted upright in bed as the remains of her nightmare shattered around her. Just a nightmare. One crafted from her memories, yes, but still just a nightmare. Nothing she couldn't ignore.
*Ours...* the spirits in the Chain Veil whispered one last time.
Liliana knew they were Onakke, the ogres that lived on Shandalar.
This was the Onakke tomb. She was here for...something. Kothophed had sent her, even though Kothophed was dead. "Keep it in the light," his voice whispered, crawling through her mind like a slug. What is it's purpose? Not your concern. But if you try to use it, you'll regret it."
A laugh, cold and cruel, and when Kothophed spoke again, it was not his voice alone but joined by the Raven Man's.
"...And surely you have enough regrets."
And then it was simply the Raven Man's soothing baritone, like rotten ice under a thin skin of pristine snowfall. "Don't you, my Lili?"
"Shut up," Liliana mumbled. "...don't get to...not your Lili..."
She kept wandering through the stone halls, ignoring the beautiful carvings that adorned the walls, the bas-reliefs, the mosaics, the sophisticated frescoes. Where was it? Surely it must be here! She still couldn't quite remember what she was looking for, but she was getting more and more frantic as she searched and could not find it. First dread set in and then panic. No! She needed it! Where was it? Who had taken it?!
More whispers now, a chorus instead of just one or two, individual voices indistinct, a susurrus of malice. "For eons we have rotted in this tomb, too slowly the grains of time slide through the hourglass. The stars crawl their eternal circuit through the heavens while we remain trapped in darkness--waiting for the one who will set us free."
She'd heard those words before. She knew them. How did she know them? What did they mean?
"Could it be her? She has found the key. But is she strong enough to use it?"
"Be silent," she moaned. "No more. Be quiet."
Dread built. She knew what was coming. It was him, the dirt-mage, coming to take vengeance on her for killing a herd of wild pigs - wild pigs that had chased her, that had attacked her horse and killed it and would have done the same to her. What was his name? The Planeswalker when he'd stank only of animals and sweat, not corruption? Ah yes.
Garruk Wildspeaker.
For a moment the feeling of phantom hands rose up to crush her throat and Liliana ran. Because part of her recognized that this was a dream and any dream about being choked eventually turned into Then and even with the mounting dread, Now was better than Then and what waited for her in that destroyed sick room...
She ran into an atrium and there was the largest Onakke skeleton yet, a strand of carved beads winding from its tusks to hang down. This was it, this was what she was looking for, but she also knew that was a lie - she'd thought it had been the object of her search, but it hadn't been. It had only been the key. She blinked and it was in her hands, a doorway filled with purple light appearing in the wall next to her. Behind her, she could hear the Wildspeaker thrashing, his rage-filled howls losing sanity. She couldn't stay here, but she didn't want to go through the door, either. Didn't want whatever was waiting for her through that doorway.
But part of her did want it. Part of her exulted in it, gloried in it. It was power and power was dangerous and power came with a price and power brought with it regret...but when was power not worth the risk? Worth any risk?
"But a soul isn't a trinket you can hand over to a demon, or an ember it can seize upon your death." The deep rumble of Nicol Bolas' words, so deep she felt it in her feet as well as heard it with her ears. "You'll give up your soul, all right - because no one with a shred of soul could possibly undertake the tasks you will perform to pay off your debt. But why should that bother you after all that you have already done?"
And everything she would do in the future. A name danced just out of reach of her mind, just on the tip of her tongue.
"Tavelia..."
"Perhaps you have already given up your soul."
The name didn't pull back the curtain of forgetfulness. Whoever or whatever Tavelia was remained shrouded in shadows and for that, Liliana was grateful. Her footsteps carried her further and with the waning of the dragon's familiar voice came the waxing of the choir again. "This is hallowed earth. Here the seed took root. Here the void drew its first breath. The hourglass has shattered. Finally, it has begun."
"No. No." Liliana thrashed about. "Shut up."
Vessel of destruction. Vessel of corruption. Our vessel. Ours. You were promised to us. Ours. Ours. Ours.
"No!" Liliana bolted upright in bed as the remains of her nightmare shattered around her. Just a nightmare. One crafted from her memories, yes, but still just a nightmare. Nothing she couldn't ignore.
*Ours...* the spirits in the Chain Veil whispered one last time.
