Return to Argentum: 7

At the end of the world, there was only a goblin. He was strapped, against his will, to a device of his own making. A device that connected him to the rest of the world, in most intimate fashion.

The filaments stretched from Slobad to the cuffs that bound him, from the cuffs to the machine, from the machine to the tower, from the tower to the lacunae, from there…

When the Green Sun rose, when the power cleansed the plane again…

Slobad was no longer just a goblin. He was a god.

“Try it before you give it up,” Karn had said.

Slobad had experimented, floating up and flying around, weightless, as if in a dream. But it didn’t compare to the other feeling…

“No, bring her back!” he had shouted. Shouted. Why did I shout? Why was I so afraid?

“Are you sure?” Karn had said.

“YES.”

So the power had flowed out from his ascended body, and back into all the rest of Mirrodin. Slobad had never felt so deflated. But when he lifted his limp head, Glissa had been standing there, over him, smiling. His friend was alright.

“You’re the stupidest goblin I’ve ever met.”

“Not saying much, are you, crazy elf!”

From there, it was more of the same. They tried to do good things, build things, but everything failed and things turned dark. Glissa became more angry, more afraid. Slobad found it harder and harder and then, impossible, to make her laugh. The world wanted more and more mana. The ground turned hotter, and the skies more brittle. Slobad often wondered if he’d made the wrong decision.
____________

“Elesh Norn is the only power on this plane with the capabilities to do what you’re asking,” Jor-el said as he twitched the reins on his mount.

“But it sounds like that’s really far away,” Liliana complained, moving her Chrome Steed up to match his.

“Yes.”

“Do we have that kind of ti--"

“I don’t see any other way,” Jor-el said, his tone ending the conversation. Venser watched as Liliana reined her steed back, dropping away form Jor-el. Her expression was cold.

“Prrrrrrrrrrrroblemsssss?” Venser whooshed as he neared Liliana, completely out of control. His mount was doing whatever it wanted, his zombie hands unable to give it the nuanced signals it desired. Venser’s Chrome Steed tossed its head and sidestepped, nearly throwing its undead rider to the ground. Venser grunted and smacked the steed with his disembodied arm.

“Ugh,” Liliana said, rubbing her temples with one hand.

The sun rose, burning everything beneath it.

___________

Karn looked through tears upon his son.

Memnarch had converted himself to an insectoid shape. The Praetor was cold and calculating, more machine than man. Karn had not intended for this to be his destiny. He had hoped the guardian of Argentum would find peace in tending a perfect metal world. Instead, his progeny had lost his mind, had done violence unspeakable, had found no peace at all. The silver golem bowed his head.

And am I much different? What I set out to do and what I did are two entirely different stories.

“Memnarch?” Karn said.

___________

The fires danced in her hair. The light caressed her skin, and the shadows haunted her steps and her eyes and made him hurt.

Hurt? Why should he hurt?

But he did.

Urabrask stood unmoving next to a pillar in a the Furnace Level. He strove to make his breathing as even and quiet as possible.

Completely out of reach, the emerald-and opal -and red jasper human bent to retrieve something from the rocky floor.

Urabrask blew smoke out of both nostrils, both ears, and all twelve valves in his body.

____________

“It could be a trick.”

“It could.”

Vorinclex and Glissa rode steadily through the rusting Tangle. A light acidic rain fell weakly on their shoulders as their mounts and those of their retinue broke trail towards the white cliffs.

“Why should she want to meet here?”

“It is fairly neutral.”

“I don’t like it,” Glissa grimaced and set her jaw. Vorinclex knew this was a sign of her extreme anger.

“Come, it will be fine,” he said. The words were soft and strange, and Glissa looked at him immediately with a suspicious frown.

“Ahem,” said Vorniclex. “Captain, you may be relieved of your duties if you can’t see this through. I will lead our Tangle troops to Elesh’s stronghold myself.”

“Sir,” said Glissa, “You know that is not necessary.”

“Good,” Vorinclex said, forcing a harshness he did not feel into his response.

Glissa, however, seemed at ease with his gruffness, and rode forward contentedly. Vorinclex delighted himself for half a minute watching the rain drip from her corded hair, and noted with joy how the wild birds seemed to flit from branch to branch, following his Captain’s advance. Then Glissa glanced back and Vorinclex pasted a dour frown onto his face. Glaring at her like a Praetor should.

She turned around, leading the party through a nasty clumping of bloodsucking vines, and thus didn’t notice Vorinclex humming and tapping his fingers rhythmically on his mount.

____________

The plaza was whitish but tinged with pink, and Liliana smelled the distinct scent of epidermal decay.

The blue sun hung low in the sky above the organic, artificial promenade and gave everything an even more charming greenish cast.

“Prrrfct for ahhhhoneymoooon,” Venser whooshed.

“Shut up,” Liliana snapped, tensing as she saw a svelte figure appear on the horizon.

This is all to get you back to functioning, flesh-and-blood form, may I remind you… Liliana mentally gritted at her zombie minion.

How selfless of you Venser’s blue eye flared back at her.

“Liliana? Elesh Norn welcomes us,” Jor-el  smiled grimly back at them, and Venser restrained an urge to throw his detached arm right at his face.

What in Urborg do you see in that guy? Venser thwacked the razor grass with his arm as they rode closer and closer to the pale figure ahead.

Do you know why he doesn’t look like the rest? He thinks the vanity of the Auriok condemned them to doom; contributed to their loss at the hands of the Phyrexians. So he renounced their practices. That’s why his hair is brown instead of blond. Liliana regarded Venser with a dramatically arched eyebrow.

So, you like him because he feigns more modesty than the rest of his golden posse? Venser put one skeletal hand over what would have been his breastacular region, had he been whole.

He gave up his entire ingrained belief system in order to bring his people a new way of life. In order to give them a future. To bring them hope.

I’m pretty sure he just took the wealth he used to spend on hair treatments and skin bronzer and reallocated those funds. Namely, funneling them into wine and 3,000-thread-count sheets.

To Venser’s shock, Liliana laughed.

How in the helvault does a guy like you know about thread counts? she smirked. He shrugged his one good shoulder.

I couldn’t sleep one night. Stayed up and counted them.

Wait, what--while we were sleeping under them? Liliana’s smirk changed to a dark glare. Venser’s silent stare was guilty. Were you there the whole night?!

It’s not like you’ve given me a lot of choices to pass the time in this damn place.

Liliana’s face twisted in indignant disgust. I should have known better than to trust you to be off my radar even for a few hours--

The guy snores like a beast. Did you realize that? About two minutes after you guys pass out, he starts up and it’s like listening to a two hundred year old baloth trying to blow snot bubbles out of its open mouth--I mean, you look amazing, of course, My Lady, but between your farting and his viscous blubbering, it kind of ruins the vista of your repose...

Enough. Liliana’s eyes were dangerously dark. Venser noticed she was grinding her teeth, which he had thought she only did in her sleep...

You know, the great thing is I found out that I can detach my head in a certain way that allows me to screw it back on. So, when I’m lying under your bed, I can unscrew my head, hold it in my good hand and lift it out from under the mattress, and if I tilt it up and to the left I can get this truly stunning angle on your a--

“ENOUGH!” Liliana exploded, raising her clenched fist as it swirled with black mana. Jor and the rest of the Auriok escort turned to look at her, alarmed. Venser watched in fascination as an uncharacteristic flush crept from her clavicle up her neck. He was surprised by the stab of pleasure he suddenly felt in his gut--er, where his guts would be. Liliana shrank contritely beneath Jor's gaze and composed herself, lowering her hand. And batting her eyes apologetically. Jor nodded sternly and turned back to his vigil of greeting the Praetor.

When Liliana next caught Venser in her sidelong glance, it was icy. He looked away.

They all resumed watching Elesh Norn and entourage approach.

Really, how’s a guy supposed to sleep through that? Venser mused hesitantly a moment later.

I like him because he’s a success at what he does Liliana's words seemed to come from a distant place as she rode forward towards Jor-el. The mystic, formerly Jor Kadeen before he had so "humbly" renounced his glorious ways, lifted his hand towards Liliana with a quiet smile. Her answering smile was serene, her eyes calm and dark. She raised her hand to the Auriok lord with supreme grace and allowed his fingers to touch her palm. Together, they turned to face Elesh Norn.

You have no idea why we’re really here, do you, dear Spencer, naive fool.

Liliana’s last words, before she severed the connection, echoed in frigid waves at the edges of Venser’s mind. He shuddered as her voice faded away, the statement chilling him...that is, it would have, if he had any hope left.

To be continued...Interested in Mirrodin's beginnings? Check these out:

The Demon Inside by Andy Rogers

This week I'm pleased to feature a flash fiction piece and casual decklists by Moxy MTG's first guest writer, Andy Rogers. Let us know what you think in the comments or via Twitter!



Ajani rolled out of the way of the blast. Black plague from the Lord of the Pit scorched the ground where
he had been only seconds prior. The pestilent smell turned his stomach.

“Curse the dark rituals that summoned you,” Ajani spat. “You’ll not reign anywhere in this plane while I
live to defend it.”

Since Jazal’s murder, pain and fear were constant companions. The only thing that kept Ajani from
succumbing to them was unrestrained anger. It was the fuel that burned the pyre of his inhibitions. The
desire for vengeance burned so hot that nothing would stand in the way of finding his brother’s killer.

Had Jazal been alive he would not have approved of the fiery recluse Ajani had become. He would’ve
said, “Hate consumes. Temperance is wisdom.” But Ajani believed that hate is exactly what would keep
him alive. Not even a demon lord could best him while he burned so hot.

The dark figure reared back to strike. Ajani leapt, sword in hand, and sunk his mageslaying blade deep
into the monster’s chest. In the same moment he felt his opponent’s claws rip into his back.

“Little lion cub,” the creature whispered. “You think you can kill me? You’re killing yourself.”

Ajani was confused, but he held a glare that would’ve leveled a weaker foe. He resolved never to flinch
in the face of evil again, even if it killed him. His days of taking it on the chin were over. They both bled
increasingly, plying their blades into one another.

“I am the fire inside you. Kill me and kill yourself.” Darkness surrounded them.



The demon’s hideous laughter still rang in his ears as Ajani woke, sweating. The night sounds of Naya
unsettled him. He’d slept in a forest clearing, careless of exposure in his exhaustion. Like a lost cub,
anyone could have found him.

But he was not a lost cub anymore.

He growled and scanned the shadows around him. They were empty. There had been no demon to slay.
No demon at all.

Or was he wrong?

Ajani ran deeper into the trees, wanting to put distance between himself and the place of his torment.
His vengeance drove him, even as his doubts increased.
________________

Follow Andy on Twitter: @ALRstories


Lord of the Pit deck list:

4 Lord of the Pit
4 Deranged Assistant
4 Dregscape Zombie
1 Rotting Rats
1 Viscera Dragger
1 Etherium Abomination

2 Dark Ritual
3 Doom Blade
2 Forbidden Alchemy
2 Murder
2 Vapor Snag

1 Absorb Vis
1 Profane Command
2 Rise from the Grave
3 Tome Scour
2 Unburial Rites

1 Diabolic Servitude

3 Drowned Catacomb
7 Island
11 Swamp
3 Tainted Field



Ajani Vengeant deck list:

4 Ajani's Pridemate
4 Ajani's Sunstriker
4 Blade of the Sixth Pride
2 Healer of the Pride
2 Pride Guardian
2 Savannah Lions

4 Ajani Vengeant

1 Flash Conscription
1 Furious Resistance
1 Increasing Vengeance
3 Lightning Helix
1 Shattering Blow
1 Skullcrack
1 Stave Off
1 Stir the Pride

1 Ajani's Mantra

1 Mob Justice
1 Titan's Revenge
2 Vengeance

4 Boros Guildgate
8 Mountain
9 Plains
2 Smoldering Spires

Return to Argentum : 6

“So you’ve been talking to our enemies!” Liliana hissed, hands on hips.

“No—yes, I’ve been talking, but they are not necessarily our enemies,” Jor countered, his eyes blazing. Jor-el Galesun, formerly Jor Kadeen, ran his hand through his wayward brown hair. The spiritual leader of the Auriok was sweating bullets in his own office. An office that had been demolished by his fight with Liliana's undead minion "Venser" and that now was wrapped in stifling blackness so the conversation could not be overheard. Jor silently cursed himself for being so vulnerable to this turn of events.

“You figured you’d give them Melira, in exchange for information?” Liliana said softly, not looking at him. Melira gasped, looking at Jor with wide, fragile eyes.

“What are you talking about?!” Jor exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the broken desk. Liliana slid her eyes sideways and up, meeting Melira’s supergreen gaze.

“Perhaps,” Liliana continued, staring at Melira only, “Glissa promised you secrets to the inner workings of this World, if only you’d give her the healer that would stop the plague that is striking down their armies even as we speak.”

Liliana showed no emotion as Melira bit her lip, not breathing, not quite believing, looked to Jor-el for a contradiction, for assurance it was not so.

“She offered that, but—“ Jor began, then hesitated. The hesitation was all Liliana needed—she snorted condemnation on cue. Melira lowered her face and broke down in a silent sob, covering her face with her hands and her flaming hair.

Venser swiveled his head toward Liliana disapprovingly.

What are you doing? He thought to her.

Working to save our asses. Liliana replied. Quiet.

“I never agreed to such!” shouted Jor, but the seed was planted. Melira peered up at him with glittering, wet eyes, her broken heart carved in high relief on every part of her.

“Dear, men do what they have to do. They will never hesitate to use you,” Liliana said softly. Melira slowly turned and locked eyes with Liliana. She nodded ever so slightly. Liliana smiled confidentially, just for the two of them. She reached out an put her hand on Melira’s shaking arm.

She’s ours. Liliana exulted in her head.

You’re a raving bitch. Venser thought.

You’re a dead man short two balls.

True.

Alright then. Attend to Melira.

“Jor, I don’t fault you for this,” Liliana was saying silkily. “It’s smart business. Why don’t you and I talk about it over dinner?”

Jor looked at her coldly. His gaze slid to Melira, who was standing weakly as Venser helped her put on her cloak with his one good arm.

“Please?” Liliana said. When Jor-el continued to stare at her impassively, she walked over to him, standing open and inviting, trusting, above him. “Please? You should tell me of your plans, so I can help. I would have done the same in your place, with the girl. But my feminist loyalties demanded she know the truth…”

“I did not—“ Jor started to say. Liliana bent down and kissed him hard.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not becoming,” Liliana breathed. Jor’s hands tightened around her upper arms.

I just threw up in my mouth—a lot. Venser’s one eye flared as he gently turned Melira away from the scene.

Good thing you don’t have a stomach. Liliana laughed inside his head.

______

Venser had hoped that after the brawl, perhaps things would change and he wouldn’t have to endure the inanities of Liliana’s and Jor’s narcissistic relationship.

To his unsurprised dismay, however, things only got worse.

Following the confrontation about Jor’s overtures to The Tangle leadership, Liliana and the Auriok mystic cavorted around the Furnace Level like blossoming youths at a May festival. They danced, they drank, they laughed, they reveled in each other's good looks. Venser, broken jaw and all, was left to see to Melira.

“He was the first person I saw when I came here,” Melira was saying. Venser nodded automatically, his jaw waggling in its jacknifed state (held in place as it was by darksteel clothespins). His one dark eye socket and his flaring blue one drifted noncomittally toward the vents of the Furnace Level, where Liliana and Jor were tasting through an apparently endless array of fine Mirrodin wine.

“I was so scared, and he…he came over and put his cloak around me…” Melira said softly. Venser the zombie lowered his head into a skeletal hand and exhaled.

“I felt like I’d come home…finally,” Melira breathed, her voice trailing off painfully. Venser turned and looked at her.

She really was quite a beautiful girl, not in the gods-what-is-that?! way that Liliana was, but in a fey, youthful, hopeful way—like a sunrise through the fog. The fires of the Furnace Level were always reflecting off her hair, the phoenix shades cavorting in the twisted locks that hung down over ivory shoulders.

“Venser?” she said hesitantly, her expression confused as she caught him staring at her.

Venser rose, picking up his severed arm in his good hand, and gestured for her to follow him.

_________

Once, a metal man thought he was akin to a god.

Once, a metal man thought he could create a world with a narrative so perfect that it would exist in harmony for ages unending.

Little did he know that his grand plan would be undone by a smear of something on his foot.

So long ago, Karn had made Argentum from his best creative instincts. He had imbued the perfect metal world with all of his passion for peace, beauty, and harmony. He hoped the new plane would be a reflection of the best parts of himself.

And it was. It was also a perfect reflection of his pride.

As he gave Memnarch his final instructions, a little bit of crap slipped from Karn’s silver boot onto the surface of Argentum. Memnarch, a golem created in the image of his master, was left alone with a perfect world and a tiny pile of poo.

The pile of poo, however, was Phyrexian poo.

And after Karn had left, and battled, and traveled, and schemed, and then returned again when he felt the Phyrexian plague touch his heart as he closed the rift over Urborg—he discovered, to his horror, that his metal Eden had been corrupted—

By that little bit of Phyrexian shit. And everything stunk.

_________

“STOP.” The hordes of black and blue turned their heads at the bellow.

“That was good,” said Slobad’s hand.

“Thanks,” said Karn.

Jin-Gitaxias clicked his head in the direction of the intruders. There was a large, impossibly shiny silver golem with a goblin hand on his shoulder. The hand appeared to be whispering things into the golem’s ear. This was irregular.

“Excuse me, but can we get on to whatever’s next? I’m losing feeling in my tail,” Sheoldred said as she dangled upside-down over a Mimic Vat.

“Silence,” clicked Jin-Gitaxias.

“How rude!” hissed Sheoldred.

“You don’t remember me?” Karn said, his large eyes sad and heavy as he looked at Jin-Gitaxias.

“SHOULD I?” clicked the Praetor, but no one understood him.

_______

“Jor, we need someone who can build what we need.” Liliana was strumming her fingers impatiently on the head of the metal dog that attended her.

“I told you that we don’t have such here, not that I’ve seen.” Jor inserted his nose deep into a bulbous wine goblet and inhaled deeply. Venser saw Liliana clench her teeth in annoyance and narrow her eyes. The zombie limped forward with Melira at his side. The healer beamed hopefully at Jor-el as she patted her smoothly combed hair.

“Yes?” Liliana snapped, turning toward them. Venser shrugged, his bright eye flaring innocently. Melira ducked her head and blushed visibly.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t know we were intruding,” she said.

“Unless you have a way to get the five suns of this godforsaken plane to realign in the center of the world and then somehow miraculously drift back to their places in the sky, then yes, you are intruding,” Liliana sighed loudly, draining the wine that Jor had carefully poured for her in a very unladylike gulp.

“Mmeeeeeeeeeeee,” Venser whooshed, standing beside Melira in a protective stance that annoyed Liliana to no end.

“Excuse me?” Liliana rolled her eyes at him. “Jor and I have been talking for hours about how to find some talent on this plane that can create a construct to do what it is we need done. I need to move suns, Venser, my dear. Suns. You have something to offer?”

The zombie took hold of his broken jaw in his hand and tilted it up in semblance of a smile.

Really. He heard Lilana sneer in his head.

“What was your previous occupation?” she said aloud, curiosity piqued. Jor-el deigned to grace him with a full-on look, brown eyes skeptical and distant.

“Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrtificsheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer,” whooshed Venser.

Liliana froze, wine goblet halway to her lusicous mouth. Jor-el raised an eyebrow.

Are you a walker? Liliana’s voice resounded in Venser’s head—pulsing, throaty, desirous, passionate.

Aren’t you? Venser thought to her in return.

Mmmmm, clever minion… Liliana replied. Aloud, she said,

“Melira, my dear, wherever did you get such a fine silver comb as that one?”

“Uh, um…he gave it to me?” Melira indicated the zombie with a flash of her green-blue eyes.

“Ah. I see,” said Liliana. Venser cringed. Maybe he shouldn’t have given the healer one of the necromancer’s baubles. But then again, Melira had nothing beautiful to enjoy.

He’d done the right thing.

The right thing and the wise thing are not the same, my love. But, I am glad you made her happy for a moment…A comb is a comb—your disloyalty is what interests me.

Venser let the sultry voice echo around his psyche for a few moments. Then he thought back:

Your soulless dark heart is what interests me.

There was no answer.

To be continued.