What Price Shandalar?

Note: The following story is based on the MtG comic Ice Age by Jeff Gomez and Rafael Kayanan, and published by Armada

Dominaria, the Ice Age. 2900 years after the Brothers War.

Leshrac Nightwalker hovered slightly above the surface of Dominaria's Null Moon, wisps of shadow trailing from his midnight black cloak. Four balls of corrupted fire orbited his bone-white hair, while the hair itself wavered like a pale flame, wisps of smoke even seeming to curl from his eyebrows. Apart from his leathery, grim face and hands, the planeswalker seemed barely human, composed entirely of contrasting light and shadow.

In front of him stood an ornate metallic structure. It looked suspiciously like a temple. Perhaps the old wizard has finally gone mad, thought Leshrac. But he did claim to finally have an answer to why their ability to planeswalk had been reduced to a mere twelve planes. Twelve planes, cut off from the rest of the multiverse. ‘The Shard of Twelve Worlds’ it had been named. Probably by Faralyn, mused Leshrac. Pretentious bastard. He glided inside.

It was not often that a Gathering was called. Leshrac immediately sensed the fivefold energies of Taysir, supposedly the most powerful planeswalker that ever lived. Not that he ever did anything useful with his vaunted power. He was as stuck here as the rest of them. He stood on a balcony, wearing his infamous purple turban. His lover, Kristina of the Woods, stood next to him, pale skinned and freckled, seeming to Leshrac like waves of tranquil green power. Leshrac frowned. She was stronger than last time they clashed…but no. Not her. There was second figure, winged, hovering in the shadows, emanating similar energy. But the green didn't quite manage to stifle her fiery core. She must be the upstart half-elven planeswalker, Freyalise. Hmm. She had…potential. Yes.

The dark bitter power of Tevish Szat lurked in the centre of the room, the other planeswalkers giving him and his blue-scaled tentacles a wide berth. He nodded at Leshrac, his long snakelike tongue flicking. And of course, there was Faralyn himself, with his mortal spellsquire, Ravidel. Wait. Near Faralyn...not a planeswalker, but still very powerful. Leshrac's eyes focused on a metal-skinned dragon standing behind Faralyn and his Ravidel. Rhuell the Chromium! What was Faralyn playing at, inviting an Elder Dragon?

‘This is an historic moment,’ began Faralyn. He looked suitably ancient - his beard was long, flowing and white, and his face and hands were heavily lined. His eyes were rather striking – red with white irises. Unfortunately, noted Leshrac, he was clad in a golden gown, and wore a ridiculous spiked crown of the same metal. The crown was studded with rubies.

‘Welcome to Temple Faralyn – all five of you.’

The old man had lost his wits after all.

‘I thank you for yielding to my summons,’ continued Faralyn, waving a silver staff imperiously in his right hand as he spoke, ‘I cannot remember so potent a Gathering. It took courage to set aside your differences. I promise, you will not be disappointed.’

‘Get on with it, Faralyn’ whispered Leshrac, his voice quiet, but dripping with power. He gestured at Chromium. ‘Though in light of the company you’ve chosen, I question your sanity. Tell us this Secret of the Shard.’

‘Wait one moment!’ exclaimed Rhuell angrily, his voice like scraping metal. ‘No one told me this bag of air Leshrac was coming! Into my jaws with thee!’

The dragon lunged past Faralyn, his long neck bringing his teeth perilously close to Leshrac. The planeswalker slowly raised a hand, dark shadows coalescing at his fingertips - but then Ravidel grabbed hold of the dragon.

‘Hold, Rhuell, my friend! Remember, you swore an oath!’

‘You will excuse the chromium dragon,’ said Faralyn to Leshrac, ‘Young Ravidel’s point is good, petty griviences must not disru…’

‘The grievance is not petty,’ spat Ravidel. ‘A century ago Leshrac enslaved Rhuell’s brother, Arcades. The dragon was destroyed by Leshrac’s opponent!’

‘He speaks the truth,’ came the quiet voice of Kristina, ‘I’m sorry, Rhuell. I was that opponent.’

The elder dragon lowered his head slightly, acknowledging Kristina’s apology. He withdrew, though his eyes remained fixed on the Nightwalker.

‘All the more reason to proceed with due haste, Faralyn’ whispered Leshrac, lowering his hand.

‘Indeed,’ rumbled Rhuell.

‘Indeed not!’ hissed a new voice. It was Tevesh Szat. ‘I was told this was a Gathering of Planeswalkersss. Rhuell is a beast, Ravidel a mere wizard. You’ve long been known to tinker in our affairs, Faralyn. This reeksss of conspiracy.’

‘My motives are sound,’ replied Faralyn firmly. ‘With the help of Rhuell, Freyalise and my spellsquire Ravidel, I have investigated the phenomenon of the Shard. It’s as if a mighty hammer has struck our continuum of a trillion worlds, and splintered a mere dozen into the ether! We’ve been bears in a cage as cold and frozen as the world below us, and look at how we’ve changed. We’ve become idle killers, false gods mad with boredom. But at last, I have found a way out!’

Leshrac had had enough of the grandstanding. He moved faster than thought, his fingers encircling Faralyn’s right wrist. He noticed that Faralyn’s nails were long, and painted crimson. Odd.

‘I must have the answer now, Faralyn!’

‘Unhand me, Nightwalker,’ said Faralyn, easily breaking Leshrac’s grip, and shoving him back towards Tevesh Szat. So the old man was not as frail as he seemed. Interesting.

“The Ice Age and the Shard are linked,” Freyalise said, her voice lilting, almost musical, as she stepped out of the shadow, revealing long, blonde hair, and wings composed entirely of leaves. “They both came into being at the end of the Brothers’ War.”

“This is their fault?” hissed Szat. “I should have forced those two upstarts to throw their tantrums elsewhere.”

“If I have located a flaw in the Shard,” said Faralyn, “Then the cataclysm of the twelve planes can be reversed. We can halt Dominaria’s Ice Age.”

“You must admit, Faralyn,” said Freyalise, looking at Tevish Szat, “Our histories are spattered with blood. It would be hard to expect us to overcome such rifts.”

“I would like to vote in favour of a treaty,” said Kristina, “If we worked together instead of trying to kill each other all the time – who knows? We could layer disciplines, combine spells, what do you think Taysir?”

“A wise plan. But I advise caution where it concerns Leshrac and Tevish Szat.”

“Count yourselves fortunate we choose to cooperate,” hissed Szat angrily.

Faralyn waved his staff again.

“And let us not forget the other elven planes, most of which are suffering as much of Dominaria. Yes, plain Kristina speaks wisely. Why it’s small wonder Rhuell has forgiven her the death of her brother.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Faralyn?” whispered Leshrac angrily, his voice carrying through the temple. “I couldn’t care less who Rhuell forgives or what is happening in the other realms.”

“One of those ‘Other Realms’ is mine, villain!” yelled Ravidel, his fists clenching “I take deep exception to your tone, villain!’

“So shouteth the upstart youth astride his lovingly polished…familiar,” hissed Leshrac.

There was a roar of anger, and a fireball erupted from Rhuell’s mouth. Leshrac seemed to shift slightly, and the fireball passed though him harmlessly.

To hit Tevesh Szat instead.

“That will cost you, dragon,” said Szat, his voice low and dangerous.

Circles of azure power flared up around the blue-scaled planeswalker, spinning into intricate patterns as his bitter energy seemed to tinge all the air in the temple. Purple energy erupted from Rhuell’s body. The dragon screamed in pain, before collapsing, all life drained from his corpse.

“By the Djinns of Erhnam!” exclaimed Taysir.

Then everything happened at once. Ravidel fell to his knees in horror. Lightning crackled in the air around Freyalise as she launched into the air, and darted towards Szat, leaves trailing in her wake. White lines of power sprang into life around Taysir and Kristina, but Leshrac swirled towards them. He raised a hand, dark power exploding outwards in a wave that knocked the two of them off balance.

“To the nether void with you!”

That was Faralyn, waving his staff again. But this time, the staff glowed with power, and white runic circles surrounded Leshrac, Taysir and Kristina. The circles flared brighter than the sun, seeming to turn everything to white. The three paused, waiting for the light to fade. It didn’t. They were hovering in a place void of all but whiteness. A slow grin spread across Leshrac’s face. They were in the nether.

“Magic is hard to cast in this place,” he whispered, “Good thing I remembered to pack.”

A metallic cube appeared by his side, and he raised both hands.

“A mana matrix! Take cover!” yelled Taysir to Kristina, “My circles won’t protect us!”

Spheres composed entirely of purple fire hurtled towards the two of them.

“Glorious,” chuckled Leshrac, “Lim-Dûl is missing such fun!”

“What cover?” yelled Kristina, instead focusing her attention on the cube, as she dodged back and forth between the rain of black flames. There was a loud crack, and the cube split in half, vines covering its surface. The orbs faded to nothing. Leshrac hissed in displeasure, and the three planeswalkers eyed each other warily, waiting for the next move to be made.

“I have known Faralyn for years,” said Taysir suddenly, “Why has he allowed this to happen?”

Leshrac frowned, thinking. Faralyn had acted oddly, mentioning the death of Arcades a seconed time, as if...

“He deliberately provoked us,” whispered the Nightwalker.

“I don’t want to believe you,” said Kristina, “But you may be right. I’m ending this duel now. Embrace Tranquillity.”

The white light around them shattered, and they fell to the ground, back in the temple again. Freyalise and Szat were nowhere to be seen. Leshrac suspected they were off fighting somewhere - after all, Szat had destroyed her homeland. Ravidel was still on the ground, stricken with grief. Faralyn was bending over Rhuell, but straightened as he saw the three.

“Surprised to see us alive, Faralyn?” asked Taysir. “Talk fast, turncoat, or face Rabian justice!”

Faralyn smiled chillingly.

“No need for that now. The juncture begins. I had thought to use the spark of a dead planeswalker, but it seems that the life force of an Elder Dragon is not so different.  I’m afraid I must leave now, Shandalar will only be close enough to the Shard for a short time. This Gathering is adjourned!”

A ribbon of white and blue flowed from the dead dragon’s head, wrapping around Faralyn. Leshrac darted towards him, just as he raised his staff and vanished. Leshrac swore.

“Track him Taysir!” he hissed desperately.

Taysir shook his head.

“I cannot. He used Rhuell’s power to break through the Shard. He has gone beyond my ken.”

Ravidel seemed to return to his senses.  He looked up to see the Nightwalker hovering over the body of Rhuell, the planeswalker apparently deep in thought.

“Leshrac! I’ll you pay!”

Ravidel lunged towards the dark figure, but Leshrac faded out of sight, reappearing behind the young spellsquire.

“Let us partake,” said Leshrac, “In a covenant of flame. I find it has a calming effect.”

A column of pure black voidfire erupted from the ground below Ravidel, lancing upwards into the sky. The darkness consumed the body of Ravidel completely.

“Confound you, Leshrac!” said Kristina, “Ravidel was pure at heart. His rage was out of friendship. You didn’t have to kill him.”

“I would appreciate silence,” spat Leshrac. “I am trying to think. There may still be a window of opportunity. He said something about Shandalar, and a juncture. All I would need is another…spark.”

Lightning wreathed Taysir’s fists.

“We are not in the nether anymore, Leshrac. You are outnumbered and outgunned. Make a move, I dare you.”

Lesrac laughed mirthlessly.

“No, Taysir. I will not be your means of escape. Why don’t you ask Kristina.”

Leshrac glanced back at the corpse of Rhuell, and left the temple.

Elsewhere.

A fireball hurtled out of the sky, crash-landing in a field of grass. A figure emerged. She was wounded, badly burned, and a mass of clotted blood covered her right eye. Most of her blonde hair had been burned away, and her wings were completely gone.

“We can…layer disciplines…combine spells…wise…this Ice Age will end!”