#ithora

            Kheve stared at Ithora, running a cloth over his Kithos to clean the long bladed weapon. The action came as naturally as breathing him and was a nice outlet for his energy as he digested the new information. The steadiness and familiarity of the blade always helped ground him when something tough was happening.

           “So, I’m a…Planeswalker?” He asked, having listened to her little explanation for the past hour or two. As soon as they had arrived, the woman had sat him down, sent Ridil and Sana away and started explaining the multiverse to him. Quite bluntly too, dismissing his doubts and questions until she finished.

           “Glad you were listening despite that blank look on your face,” The red head said, reclining back on the chair she had commandeered. “Planeswalker. Meaning that the Multiverse is your playground. You have power now, Ghildeer. And it seems that you’ve squandered it. Any plane and here you are, a runner on Kaladesh. Disappointing.”

           “Hardly my fault,” Kheve glared, blood running hot at the insult. “It’s not like you told me anything to help on that end. I ended up here with no explanation. I was almost convinced that Arangar….was gone.”            “Of course it isn’t.” Ithora snorted, brushing her hands off as she got to her feet. “Now are you ready to go? I have use for you, assuming you haven’t lost your edge. And judging from what you did to those goons earlier, I doubt it. Though that violatile nature of yours is rather annoying to deal with.”

           “Of course not….wait, I can’t just leave. What about Ridil and Sana?”

           “The dwarf and the girl? I do suppose you want to talk to them first before we leave.”

           “I’m not leaving. Those two…they’re important to me.” Kheve snapped, snapping his blade into its back sheath. “I-”

           “It’s not like we’re not coming back. I just plan on showing you how your powers work and few planes, maybe get your assistance on some matters.” She sighed at him. “I’m not abducting you here. Just tell them that I’m offering you a job or something like that.”

           “Fine,” Kheve nodded, making some sense of Ithora’s points. Perhaps it was for the best if they didn’t know the complete truth, it would really bug them. Besides, he was itching to see the rest of the ‘multiverse’ now. He found that he didn’t doubt Ithora at all, he knew that what she had said was the truth. Not to say he trusted her. She had managed to keep this from everyone one on Arangar and she always seemed to be plotting something at all times anyway. “I’ll do that and then we can get going.”

           “Very well, just make it quick. I would like to get going.” Ithora agreed. “’I’m leaving in two hours, with or without you.”

          Kheve stumbled, body shaking from the drain of planeswalking. He took a deep breath as he tried to gather himself. He wasn’t prepared for the amount of energy the magic would take. It was an odd feeling, different then using any old magic.

           Suddenly he felt a burning sensation against his skin and whipped out his blade, looking around. Ithora stood before him, dark blue magic calmly swirling off her fingers. She smiled at him as the magic faded.

           “Lesson one, Ghildeer. Always be ready for a fight after planeswalking. You never know what will be on the other side of a planeswalk and if you aren’t prepared, it could spell disaster for you.” She commented, ignoring his glare.

           “Then why didn’t you just say that instead of blasting me with magic?” Kheve grumbled as he brushed himself off and looked around the new plane. They appeared to be in a long curving road that cut through a mountain, leading to towering gothic structures in the distance. He felt a shiver run down his spin. There was a darkness looming in the air, it seemed more pervasive than just the dusk that floated around them.

           “Because that wouldn’t have gotten the point across,” Ithora pointed out before clapping her hands. “And welcome to Innistrad. As much as I’d like to be able to stand around and gawk, we should get moving. Things may be problematic if we don’t reach Thraben by nightfall. I’ll answer any questions you may have on the way.”

           “Innistrad, Thraben?” Kheve inquired, feeling rather better as they started walking. However, his gaze flicked nervously about them, ready for any of the trouble that his companion had mentioned.

           “Thraben is a town, rather well defended and as safe as you get here on Innistrad.” Ithora answered calmly, keeping their pace swift as the light faded. Her apparent rush was a slight cause of concern. The mage woman caught on to his concerns and elaborated. “Innistrad has some dark influences. Monsters are more prevalent here, werewolves, vampires and the like. They get rather aggressive at night.”

           “Oh, wonderful.” He said, walking quietly for a moment. “Alright, next question. Why are you helping me? You’re hardly one for charity, unless you’ve changed dramatically since I last spoke to you.”

           “No, I’m not. Though nothing is ever as simple as it seems. I followed your exploits back on Arangar. I know what you’re capable of, and that was before your spark ever even ignited.” Came the reply. “So, just look at it this way then. You’re a planeswalker now and some day, I may need to call in this favor?”

           “So you’re just helping me for a debt?”

           “Hardly. The Multiverse is a big place. I like having access to so many different places but there are a lot of different threats about. I think you’ll help keep the multiverse…healthy. And….” She paused, staring at him and pursing her lips for a second. “No, never mind.”

           “Right. What dangers are…wait, what’s sound?” The warrior stopped, looking around. They were surrounded by trees, with the walls of what he assumed to be Thraben peeking over the tops. He’d relaxed but the sound of twisted howls queued him to draw his weapon, and made him wish he’d grabbed his offhand one as well.

           No sooner had it left his sheath that a clawed shadow slammed into him, knocking him back. The beast snarled at him as he slid to a stop, lightning crackling about his body. It appeared to be a wolf, but with longer limbs and an odd gleam to its eyes. One of the werewolves Ithora had spoken about. It snapped forward but Kheve was ready this time and flashed to the side whipping his weapon around in a viscous arc and biting deeply into the wolf’s side. It howled and twisted, slashing with its long claws.

           Kheve hissed as the claws cut into his flesh before kicking his foe back, then charging the off balance and his blade twirling around with deadly precision. With a whimper, the dog fell to the ground, dead. He felt a pang of guilt from killing it, knowing that it used to be a human. His grievance was quickly interrupted by another snarling beast from the woods.

           The arangarian reacted quickly, adrenaline rushing through his body now. Arms raised, lightning blasted out from his body in a beam. A howl and the smell of burnt flesh filled the night as Kheve’s second foe fell to the ground in a heap. Kheve walked toward it, ready for more retaliation but the beast just looked at him with glassy eyes. He paused. In that moment, the wolf scrambled to its feet and fled, disappearing into the darkness.

           Kheve smiled, glad to have one threat gone before standing still, his staccato breathing peppering the sudden calm. Slowly, the lightning he was generating faded and he relaxed. His gaze snapped back in a panic, sudden concern for his companion reemerging. He hadn’t paid attention to Ithora during the fight and if she was injured or worse…

           Yet Ithora was calmly smoothing her robes as dark black-blue fog churned maliciously around her.  Several ethereal swords drifted calmly orbited her as if waiting for someone to try something, like attack dogs. Smiling at him, she waved her hands and the dark fogs and weaponry faded into wisps. “Well, wasn’t that invigorating? I’d hoped to avoid that; it seems I miscalculated some. You have my apologies.”

           Kheve opened his mouth to speak but his cuts suddenly burned painfully as the rush of battle left him. He gritted his teeth, focusing on ignoring the pain. Ithora raised an eyebrow. “You were injured? Well, we better get to town than. Until then…”

           The woman pulled some cloth out of a pouch, quickly putting a poultice onto it before wrapping his wound and slipping the vial back into her robes. “There. That will numb the pain and staunch the bleeding.”

           “Thanks.” He said quickly, motioning for her to continue leading. He had no interest in slowing and showing his pain. He was out of practice, two wolves nearly ending him, and that truth cut deeper than any battle scar, not exactly wanting to share that.

           The rest of the walk was done in silence, ending rather soon as they came upon large town gates. Two guards stood watch on the walls, spotting them quickly. They seemed to be giving them the once over but the second guard was already starting to prepare to open the gate. “Hail, you two. Names and business in Thraben, please.”

           “Of course, of course. Lady Ithora, my body guard and I are coming to meet with some clients we have here. Unfortunately, we were just ambushed by some werewolves in the forest nearby and he was injured.”

           “Werewolves? Are you two alright?” Concern suddenly replaced the bored tones of the guards. “I’ll fetch the Cathar of the Sun immediately, I believe he was planning to go hunt those particular werewolves soon anyway, they’ve been a nuisance and-“

           “There’s no need for that. Despite Kheve’s…. unkempt appearance, my guard is extremely adept. Those werewolves won’t be a bother anymore,” Ithora interrupted, waving a hand dismissively.

           “Oh…well, alright. Welcome to Thraben, then. I assume you know the healer’s place?” The guard said, recovering from his surprise rather quickly.

           “Of course,” Ithora said with a smile at the guard, before motioning to Kheve follow. The warrior followed, mouthing ‘Unkempt?’ with more than a touch of annoyance. The mage just rolled her eyes and walked into Thraben, with a nod of thanks to the guards.

           Two hours later, a healed Kheve accompanied Ithora to the front of a towering manor in the back of the town. She’d dropped him off at some house that kept spotting nonsense about “Avacyn this” and “Avacyn that” while they cast some light healing spells on him. If it hadn’t actually healed his wound, he would have continued to ask about that Avacyn lady but his first query on the subject had only garnered some odd looks and he resigned himself to silence until Ithora retrieved him.

           “Yes, yes, of course I know who Avacyn is. She’s the Guardian Angel of Innistrad. She’s the one who grants the priests their magic and wards.” Ithora said after his inquiries. “And sorry for leaving you there, I wasn’t lying about those clients and I needed to stop by them before coming back here.”

           “This plane is strange.” Kheve sighed, shaking his head. “And I can’t shake this feeling I have about it. Like something is about to jump me at all times.”

           “Indeed. Innistrad does have an air about it. Always making you feel like you have to look over your shoulder,” Ithora agreed before slamming the knocker against the door. “I like the architecture though.”

           Several seconds passed before the large double doors creaked open and a young man’s face peeked out. The face quickly split into a grin and the door was thrown open. “Mistress Ithora!  You’re back!”

           “Ah, Garth.” The planeswalker smiled as the door was thrown open for her. “It is good to see you again. Has everything been well in my absence?”

           “Of course, I have kept everything as you left it. An inspector came by last week but it was rather ritual and no problems arose.” The man said, closing the door behind the duo as he brushed his suit. “Will you or your guest require any assistance?”

           “I don’t think so; we’ll just be using the basement.”

           “Ah, I understand. Well, I will go prepare some refreshments for you then.” The butler gave a quick bow before heading making his way toward what Kheve assumed to be the kitchen. “I wish you luck, Lady Ithora.”

           “Thank you, Garth.” Ithora smiled, motioning for Kheve to follow her as she produced a key from her robes and unlocked a door, revealing a downward spiraling stair case.

           “Now, I know you have more questions, Ghildeer, but please hold them for the moment.” The witch commented as they descended. “I will answer them in time. Until then, I’ll explain what we’re doing on Innistrad because I know you’ve been keeping questions about Arangar barely held back.”

           “How…?”

           “Mind reading, to some extent. Not that I needed it. Your desire to return Arangar is splayed over your face. It was your home after all,” Ithora unlocked another door at the bottom of the stair case. “But I have kept you from Arangar for a reason. You’re dead there. It’s been three years since your little stunt. Not to mention Arangar has changed since then. You need to be ready when you head back, not on an impulse like you would now.”

           “What do you mean, changed? And-“ Kheve frowned, staring at Ithora intently, crossing his arms. “What’s to stop me from going back right now?”

           Ithora sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “Nothing, actually. You could planeswalk there right now. Nothing is stopping you but I am simply warning you here. Arangar is not as you left it and you shouldn’t return until you are ready to accept that.”

           “And that’s it?”

           “Of course not,” Ithora chuckled, as if the mere proposition was insulting. “I would like you to stay, discover your powers and limits. That said, I do have my own reasons for that. I’m not asking for you to not return but Planeswalkers are a rarity and I don’t want you to throw your life away, if only because I’d like to use you later.”

           “That’s rather blunt of you,” Kheve said, rather surprised at her honesty. He’d never trusted her back on Arangar. She always seemed to know more than she let on and always knew what she wasn’t supposed to. This honesty was new. Had she changed this much in three years?

           Kheve swung the box up, hefting it onto the overhanging shelf. Sighing, he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked around the storehouse. The light drifted lazily from the window, a deep red as the day slowly dragged into night. He let himself smile, having made it through another day of work.

           It wasn’t that he disliked his job. He liked being a runner, sprinting through the streets of Ghirupar to make sure parts or inventions made it to where they needed to be. It needed to be done and it was hardly ever boring but…he missed the thrill of war. He’d been on Kaladesh for nearly three years now. And he hadn’t had any combat in that time. Sure he got into fistfights and such with thugs but no battle. He hadn’t been able to pull out his blades for anything more than maintenance in all this time. But…Kaladesh was peaceful, so different from Arangar.

           Though, the safety was a plus. He hadn’t had another incident like what had brought him here either. He shook his head as he locked up the warehouse and headed back to his apartment.

 *Roughly three years agp (AKA, where the last story left off) *

           “Where…am I?”

           “Where…? I guess those injuries took more of a toll on ya than I thought! Yur in Ghirupar, boy.” Kheve’s eyes finally adjusted and were greeted by the sight of a short, rotund man with way too much metal decorating his body. Kheve blinked at him and the man looked confused. “City of Wonders? Aether above, boy, ya really took a number.”

           “Right…” Kheve’s throat was dry so he grabbed the glass of water that set next to the bed he was resting on and downed it. His mind cleared a little and he put the question of where he was on the backburner. “Did…did you save my life?”

           “Sure did. Not that ya made it easy. You look like ya wrestled with a dragon.” The midget snorted, leaning on the hammer he was holding. “Which reminds me, keep yur movements to a minimum. Those bandages won’t hold if ya go dragon wrestlin’ again, hehe.”

           “Right, I’ll…do that.” Kheve grunted as he righted himself, taking care not worsen his wounds this time. “Well, thank you for your assistance then. I do appreciate the help.”

           “You’re welcome, o’ course. Though, I can’t take all the credit. Sana was the one who found ya in the gutter bleeding out yur internal organs.”

           “Sana?”

           “Yuuuuup. Human girl who fancies herself an aeronaught inventor. Hangs around here and tells everyone I’m her mentor.” The man huffed, shaking his head. Scratching his head with a piece of scrap metal, he continued. “She’ll probably be by later, act’lly.”

           “You don’t sound like you like her much.” Kheve said tentatively, a bit thrown off by the surrealism of the situation.  Not sure where he was and now talking to some elderly dwarf (at least he assumed that he was a dwarf, he matched the descriptions he’d heard well enough) about, well, Sana, he guessed. And Kheve was still just confused on why he wasn’t dead.

           “Nah, I guess she’s alright. She’s a pretty good girl, hardworker just a handful.” The dwarf grumbled. “It’s actually kinda nice to have some youthful excitement around.”

           “Right…” Kheve nodded, realizing he was being gazed at expectantly. He sighed, wincing from the pain in his chest at that. “Look, I appreciate the help but I’m still really lost. I have no idea where ‘Ghirupar’ is and I by all means should be dead. I mean what happened to the Smoke? The war?”

           “Smoke?” The dwarf’s eyes crinkled. “Is that some new drug? Because if yur just some junky, I need ya to walk on out of here. And there’s certainly no wars around on Kaladesh right now?”

           “Kaladesh?” Kheve stared, sure the man was making things up at this point. Maybe he was a mage? Was this some elaborate illusion? But it felt so real. “And how do you mean? How do you  not know the Smoke? It’s been killing us for..for forever! I don’t know what keep this is but how can you not know the biggest threat on Arangar? Who are you?”

           “I’m just a simple artificer, Ridil, if yuv heard of me but by your words, I don’t think that’s real likely…” Ridil squinted hard, clearly thinking. “I don’t know anything about this…Smoke or Arangar or other nonsense. I think whatever happened to ya took a lot out of ya, boy. How ‘bout ya lay back down and get some rest? I’ll wake ya if Sana stops by so you can thank her.”

           Kheve could only knod and lay back, stomach twisting in black knots. Arangar nonsense? Where….where was he? Could he…could he not be on Arangar? Is this Kaladesh…not Arangar?

           It was a weird thought, one that should feel wrong, that he should push against. But instead, it seemed to click and make sense. Like he wasn’t still on his home but somewhere else.

           “Kaladesh.” He breathed and faded into sleep.

 --

*Present *

Kheve’s ears perked up as walked back to his apartment, taking in the abundant sounds of Kaladesh. Even after all this time away from Arangar, he still just wasn’t used to the plethora of sounds. He just took it in, enjoying the extreme range of sounds. Crashing of machinery, hums of machines, voices…one voice in particular bubbled out, catching his ears.

“Look, look, I told you goons, my thopters are not. For. Sale.” An angry female voice snapped, clearly not amused whatever its owner was going through. “So how about you screw off and go give your servos wings, you dung-“

“Sweetheart, you don’t get it. We ain’t buyin’ what you ain’t sellin’.” A gravelly voice chuckled.

“That…did that even make sense?” Replied the confused tones of one Sana Asir, confirmed visually for Kheve as he rounded the corner.

“It did. Look, I’m telling you to give us the thopters. Or we make sure the whirler prodigy of Sana Ahir are never heard again.” The not so eloquent threat came courtesy of tattooed thug, standing crossarmed in front of her, backed by to similar brutes that differed in race but not demeanor. The leader gave Kheve a clear ‘keep walking’ glare as he walked over.

Which just prompted a sigh from him. Sana just couldn’t keep herself out of trouble, huh? The Arangarian subtly took in the thugs builds and stances as he walked over. “You guys looking for trouble? Because that didn’t sound all that nice.”

“Beat it, buddy. We’re doing business here.” Leader made the motion of someone brushing away a fly. Sana just rolled her eyes.

“Right, right, thievery is a legitimate business. You dunces are the reason why the Consulate restricts the Aether. Thanks for the help, Kheve, but I can handle this.” The girl snorted, moving to brush past the goons.

“We haven’t finished yet-“ The goon’s hand reached out to stop her but was quickly stopped by Kheve’s firm grasp.

“One chance to walk.” The man said, with a rather disconcerting smile.

“Kheve, let him go. If you make another incident-“

She was cut off by the swears from Kheve. The man’s free hand yanked a long knife from his side and lunged at his captor. Who just grinned, fluidly responding by stepping in and flipping the man over his shoulder and slamming to the ground. Two loud cracks resounded through the road, one from the impact on said road and a second one from an angry Kheve’s punch colliding with the man’s head.

Shaking his hand from the force, the arangarian righted himself again as the man slumped, out cold.

“Aether above, here we go again,” Sana snapped at Kheve as the two goons each drew long blades as well. The warrior mage didn’t respond, instead taking a stance in preparation for the now inevitable fight. And he savored it on some level, missing the rush of adrenaline.

He didn’t have to wait long, either as the second thug charged with a flurry of quick of slashes. The planeswalker ducked back, having to dance around her to avoid getting cut. Kheve didn’t keep that up for long though, realizing her form was sloppy and uncoordinated. There was no strategy to her attacks, no direction, allowing Kheve to easily wrench the blade from her grasp before borrowing it into her shoulder. She screamed and fell to her knees as Kheve pulled to the blade back out again, satisfied that she wouldn’t be a problem again.

Twirling the shortsword around to get a feel of the blade he turned to the last foe, fully into the heat of battle. He could hear Sana scolding him but zoned it out as he focused on his opponent. The last remaining opponent shuffled nervously, rather apprehensive to attack after seeing his companions dispatched. Before he could act, Kheve snapped forward with lightning crackling around him. His free hand connected with his stomach. If the force wasn’t enough to remove him from combat the volts of electricity were.

He stepped back, dropping the shortsword by the coughing goon. And then promptly froze. Sana was shooting daggers at him as she finished throwing a bandage on the thug that he had stabbed. He coughed, rubbing his head.

“You happy with yourself?” She snapped.

“No?”

“Seriously, what the heck is wrong with you?” She threw up her hands. “First off, I can handle myself. Those guys weren’t going to pull anything here in public! Second, you just freaking stabbed and blasted them in public. Aether above, you are dense. This is going to be another Consulate visit where you’re going to have to lie out your butt to avoid getting arrested. Again.”

“I have the feeling there’s a third complaint too.” Kheve sighed.

“Outside of the gratuitous violence. Stabbing a guy, geez.” She sighed, rubbing her temples. Several moments ticked by in silence.

“Sorry, I just thought I should help out and they had it coming…” Kheve said.

“They did have it coming,” Sana agreed, looking at the thugs were in various states of consciousness or pain. “But, thanks. Now, we should probably get back to Ridil’s. He said he needed to talk to you about something.”

 --

*Flashback *

“Boy, boy, wake up. Hullo?” Ridil’s voice eased out Kheve out of sleep, blinking rapidly, memories of what had transpired flooding back.

“Sorry, I’m up,” He said quickly, sitting up. He actually felt surprisingly refreshed and the aching from his wounds had significantly declined.

“Yeah, yeah. Sana’s here and I think that ya owe her a thank you.” The elderly dwarf said, as he only gave him a sidelong glance before tweaking some artifact that was on his workbench in front of him.

Kheve nodded, swinging his feet onto the floor and shambling to his feet. As he did, another figured waltzed into the workplace.

“Wow, I would say that you look awful but you don’t seem to be actively dying anymore so I consider that a plus.” She said in a chipper voice, tucking a wild wave of hair behind her ear. “I’m Sana, by the way. I’m sure Ridil’s already complained about me. “

“You’re the one who saved me, right?”

“Well, saved is a rather strong word. I just found you in that gutter and helped get you back here.” She shrugged, fiddling with a piece of filigree on her arm. She looked like that she was trying to hold back a question, though that didn’t last long and she blurted out. “What the heck happened to you? What’s with your clothes and armor? Where’d you get those tattoos? Why were you carrying those weird swords?”

Kheve blinked at the flurry of questions. “First, thank you for saving my life. I owe you a debt that I don’t know if I can repay. As for my tattoos and weapons, they are common in my homeland of Purita.”            “Purita?” Sana inquired, not looking familiar.

“In Arangar?”

“Never heard of it. Is that near Lathnu?”

“Maybe, I honestly don’t know how I got here…” Kheve said slowly, that pit in his stomach making its return. A second person never of hearing common places only cemented his theory that he wasn’t on his home anymore. “As for my injuries, I was in a fight that didn’t go my way.”

Before Sana could continue to question, Ridil cut them off. “Sana, ya need to finish those Thopter plans if ya want them to be ready for the tourney next week. ‘Sides, Kheve here looks like he’s about ready to fall over again and needs to get back to resting’.”

“Oh, gotcha. Well, nice meeting you, Kheve. I’ll stop by after I finish with the thopters because I’m really curious about what the heck you did to get beat up like that,” She said, popping away to through one of the other doors, out of sight.

 --

*Present Day *

The duo walked into the warehouse, throwing up the doors and entering. The main workspace was clear, the dwarf artificer distinctly absent.

“Oi, Ridil, where are you? I got Kheve with me, like you asked. Where you hiding out?” Sana shouted, looking around the building.

“In tha office, be right there.” Ridil shouted back as the door to the office opened and he walked out, followed closely by a woman. “Ah, Kheve, my new friend here says that she knows ya. This true?”

Kheve froze, staring at the woman. Standing there, looking identical to that day back on the battlefield, stood a certain woman. She gave him a smile as she smoothed her pristine white robes. He stared, world spinning around him.

Kheve adjusted his sparse armor plates, nervously making sure they all were all in place. Gazing out over the shattered landscape, he could see the dark clouds floating maliciously closer.  Kheve knew what they harkened. He knew what was coming.

Death, oppression, pain.

The Smoke was coming.

And no one was ready for it. Sure, they had dealt with The Smoke before but this was different. It knew that it’s foes had dropped their guard. It knew, somehow it knew what it was doing, no longer content to just be a natural disaster. No, it wanted dominion now. And Kheve wasn’t ready for that.

“You always look so tense, Kheve. Lighten up once in a while,” A melodious voice cascaded over him, prompting him to turn. A small smile tugged at his face at his visitor, dressed in her usual glamorous white robes, even in a desolate wasteland like their current situation.

“Well, it’s not exactly looking up today, is it?” He snorted, resting his back against one of the walls of the ruins that sheltered them. “I’ve probably only got a few hours left…which reminds me, I thought you escaped already?”

“I will, no worries on my end.” Ithora assured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I just wanted to warn you before I left. The Smoke…it’s wrong. There’s something leading it. I think someone is controlling it.”

Despite his circumstance, the young warrior nearly laughed. The idea of someone trying to lead the Smoke was insane. “Controlling it? Maybe you are as mad as they say.”

“I’m not mad. I just know more than you could even start to wrap your mind around. There are bigger forces at work here that surpass your feeble understanding, Kheve. Your little plan? Your stand?” Her voice was ice, slicing through any reserves of strength that Kheve still held onto. “It will fail. You won’t slow the Smoke. You won’t save anyone. You will die here and no one will remember.”

“You’re wrong,” The warrior’s breath caught in his throat. Why wouldn’t she have said this earlier? Why now? No, that wasn’t what was important. He knew she was just trying to help. “Look, I can slow it down, you know I can. Just get back to the group and make sure they can warn the keeps-“

“Is that all you care about?” Ithora hissed angrily. Her eyes flashed, before she calmed again. “Fine, I wish you the best. Perhaps I was wrong this time and you’ll defy my expectations. Not many do but…perhaps you have gifts that you don’t know yet.”

“You can’t just be straight with me,” He sighed, some relief coming from her words. It was the closest that Ithora had ever gotten to praising him, even after the several years of knowing the mysterious woman. “I promise, I’ll do what I can, just get to safety.”

“Very well. I will leave you to your…glorious suicide.” The wizard woman sighed before turning on her heel and walking away.

Kheve looked off toward the Smoke before a thought occurred to him. “Ithora, before you go…” He trailed off as he glanced back and she was gone, without a trace. He frowned for a second, before realizing he had bigger concerns at the moment.

Breathing in deeply, he grabbed his kothicks, grabbing the weapons firmly in each hand. The long blades comfortingly rested weightily in his grasp with the metal weapons extending past his hands and along his forearm. His mind drifted away from all of his other concerns, Radia and his squad, his home keep of Purita, all of it slowly fading out. His mind sharpened, breathing steadied, vision narrowing on the cloud and shambling shapes beneath it. Lightning crackled around him before he roared out, the energy around him blazing toward the Smoke. The magic impacted, detonating with an impressive shockwave. The Smoke paused for a second before it’s horde screamed out. A cacophony of the dead army under the smoke cried out it anguish as bits of itself were incinerated on the spot and searched for the cause. And Kheve didn’t make that job hard, lightning crackling around him as he sprinted at them. The undead horde of the Smoke snapped back from the attack before surrounding the raging warrior.

Blades flashed and lightning snapped out in every direction, blasting Smoke skeletons as the dashed at him. He twirled and dodged, trapped in some horrid ballet of the dead and crackling doom. Time twisted as the battle raged, seemingly endless enemies squealing angrily at him. He slowed, not able to keep up with the undead attacking at him with endless strength. Blades began cutting into him, sending pain searing though him. But he fought on, labored breaths stagnating in the air. Soon, he didn’t know how long it’d been happening, how many of the Smoke’s drones he had slain, how many hits he had taken, how long it had been. All he knew was the rush of battle around him, violent conflict blurring together and numbing him into his automatic instinct until-

A hand grasped his throat, lifting him up before slamming him back into the ground. Keheve gasped, blood dribbling out of throat from the force as his vision faded in and out. Through the haze, he saw two cruel green orbs staring down at him.

“So, you’re the obstruction. Annoying. I assume you’re responsible for that meddling Planeswalker and the group of fleeing soldiers?” Kheve felt the voice spit on him but he hardly had the strength to move, much less dodge it. He could only manage to move to get a better look of his tormenter, a figure adorned in blood red dress as they lifted a hand at him. “For that,” He hissed, for despite the gravelly undertones was a distinctive masculine voice. She held and power about him, reminding him of Ithora oddly enough, as magic gathered on his fingertips.  “You will suffer before you die. No one disrupts my plans and lives.”

Without a chance to puzzle who this man was or what his words were (What was a ‘Planeswalker’?) a brilliant suffering engulfed him. His mind bent under the pressure, threatening to break as his body seized in pain.

Then a fiery warmth ripped him apart. But…not in the putrid way that was plaguing him but in a way that warmed his body, a way that felt right, as he felt himself leave Aranaga. The horrible afflictions subsided slightly and he struggle to cope with the sudden peace as his mind drifted off.

-

When he finally awoke again, his body ached. No surprise, as in all likely hood, he should be dead. Kheve forced his eyes open before slamming them shut again from the bright lights. He tried again, using his hand to dampen the brightness and attempted to sit up. The action took a lot of effort, eliciting complaints from his body.

“Ahhhh, so the mystery man awakens! Good, good! I was beginning to think you were more dead than I could fix!” A voice exclaimed loudly, blasting against Kheve’s ears. “How do you feel?”

The warrior mage slowly took in the words as his eyes adjusted to the light. A response was forming slowly in his head but was ripped away to nothingness as his mouth flopped open at the sight that greeted him. He blinked several times but the sight didn’t change. He appeared to be in…a metal room, lit by bright blue tubes and complex light fixtures. Gold metal twisted around and he could see artifacts in various states of repair dotting the room. One seemed to have been recently abandoned, with its apparent master looking at Kheve with a pleased look on his face.

Several seconds ticked by of awkward silence ticked by, broken only by the sounds of metalwork in the background.

Finally, the newly awoken planeswalker managed one sentence.