Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [63]
In the heart of Alara, the five planes touched, forming a region composed of all five of the former shards. The interior boundaries had gone, and the terrain crushed in on itself, compressing the landmasses into a dense spiral of matter. The spiral formed a depression that widened and deepened as the planes continued their inchwise inward march.
At the very center of the depression, where lines of the five worlds’ ambient mana converged, a mote of energy flared into life. No bigger than a grain of sand, it hung in the air, sparkling.
Deep inside his Grixis lair, Bolas stopped, his head cocked to one side, as if listening. Something was different. He felt it.
“It’s begun,” he said to the walls around him.
THE BLIND ETERNITIES
Bolas hovered in the chaotic void between the worlds, watching the shards of Alara converge. He had invested years of time in the strange plural plane and a scheme as old as some of his human minions. His plan was not to collapse the five planes—as that had already been destined since the world of Alara was rent asunder centuries ago—but to reap the benefits of their impending conflux for himself. Soon his preparations would pay off, and he could seize the power robbed from him on Dominaria.
He enjoyed watching the planar edges fray, watching the landmasses intersect in untidy ways—the way Grixis intruded into Esper like fangs through skin, or the way Jund’s stifling dystopia heaved lava over the rainforests of Naya. Just the mayhem of the physical convergence would destroy thousands of tiny lives, and that was pleasing. But it was the intersection of the worlds’ mana that was his true goal.
Yes, he could sense the beginnings of it. As the worlds blended into one once more, the limited mana of each shard began to trickle over the borders into the neighboring shards. It wasn’t much—not nearly enough to cause the storm of mana Bolas required—but that was to be expected. The ancient mana obelisks would help focus that energy. With them active, all that was required was a global incentive for Alara’s denizens to use magic in massive amounts.
Bolas was exhausted. Staying too long in the Blind Eternities scoured his scales and drained his vigor. He returned to Grixis to prepare his servants for the next step.
BANT
Rafiq took a deep breath as he sat down in Aarsil the Blessed’s court in Valeron. The merchant Gwafa Hazid was safely in custody, so Rafiq’s mission for Aarsil was complete. But he had the feeling that that was only the first of his unusual tasks for her. The world was changing faster than he could comprehend. He and Mubin sat quietly as the Blessed presided over a meeting in her court.
Aarsil took her seat in the marble hall. Her attendants spread out her gown around her throne, and she was ready to begin.
“Thank you for coming,” said Aarsil. “I bring somber news. Over the last few days, you may have seen the storm brewing on the horizon, or felt the tremors in the earth. Messengers from Jhess have brought strange reports from the coast, which we believe to be related to this phenomenon. The reports are scarcely to be believed. Towers made of an unknown metal have struck their way up through the fields near the coast, they say, killing Mortar-caste by the dozens. Screeching, scaly creatures have flown out of the horizon beyond the sea, devouring our livestock and terrorizing the orchard workers. Humanoids stalk onto Bant’s soil, deploying exotic magics our mages cannot recognize. Truly, a dark time is upon us. Today we hear the words of one who may possess insight into this catastrophe.”
Rafiq and Mubin exchanged a glance.
“Bailiff, if you would,” said Aarsil.
“The court of Valeron recognizes Iama of the Order of the Skyward Eye,” said the bailiff.
“Thank you, your honors,” said Iama.
“So you