#thaclel

           Thaclel wakes up in dark, damp, and cold dungeon. A lone window high above lets in a pale yellow light, but offers no view of the outside world. All four of her arms are bound to the smooth stone walls in chains. Across from her, several yards away, is what is undoubtedly Marius. That stupid haircut is recognizable a mile away. He looks unconscious and similarly bound.

           The Phyrexian tries to remember how she came to be here. Vague images of a heavy built shirtless man, a leather clad woman, and a well dressed goblin come to her mind. Slavers. They had to be. Who else would bear the names of Snatcher, Taker, and Seeker?

           She tests her strength against the chains. But even in her Compelated body, these chains hold fast. Whatever they’re made of or enchanted with must be something exceptionally potent.

           Marius awakes with a start. “Hey! Whoa!” He scrambles to his feet. “Where are we? Is this a dungeon? Sweet Sigharda! Did we get captured by slavers!?”

           Thaclel merely rolls her eyes. “Astute observations, Marius of Zelzo.”

           He pauses, staring at her in an intensity that quickly made her uncomfortable. Incredulous, Marius asks, “Did you just…get snarky with me?”

           “We’ve been captured by slavers and imprisoned in a dungeon and what you deem worthy of comment is my level of sarcasm? Really?”

           Marius gives her a huge stupid grin. “Look at you, Thaclel! Ah. You Phyrexians grow up so fast.”

           “Silence, fleshling.” Thaclel hisses, turning away.

           Now it’s his turn to test the strength of the chains. His results are about the same as Thaclel’s. “I can’t even cast spells. This almost seems like… Azormithium! The Azorius use this on Ravnica to cut off all access to mana on their prisoners. But…how?”

(Vedalken Shackles: Masterpiece Series: Kaladesh Inventions) (Art by Svetlin Velinov)

           Thaclel sniffs the air streaming in through the window high up above. “The air seems clean, if a bit dusty. I cannot smell industrial pollutants. We must not be on Ravnica.”

           The human strains against his manacles uselessly. “Probably not. If I’m right about these things, then someone had to bring this Azormithium here. A Planeswalker, no doubt.”

           A door at the far end of the dungeon slams open. Snatcher walks in head held high. “I hope you like your accommodations.” He says with a grin. The broad chested man strides up to Marius, his beard braids and dreadlocks bouncing lightly with every step. “It would benefit you to get used to them.”

           “Let us go, Snatcher!” Marius shouts, pulling on the chains.

           Snatcher chuckles and clasps his hands together. “But of course, master Marius. How could I turn down such a polite request?”

           “You’ll never get away with this!” Marius yells at him.

           Thaclel groans. “Please Marius. Just stop. You’re being cliché. Not even good cliché. Just stop. Please.”

           Snatcher raises his palms to face Marius then spreads his arms out to his sides. The chains holding Marius at suddenly pulled tight against him, slamming him against the wall with a resounding thump! Marius is pressed against the wall so tightly even breathing is a challenge now.

           “You think,” Snatcher begins. “that your life is a story. Perhaps you might fancy yourself the hero.” He takes a couple of steps toward Marius, hands clasped behind him. “You see evil all around you and somehow you believe that you can make the world a better place. Any world. Theros. Ravnica. Innistrad. You’re convinced that maybe if you play your role right, if you set the example, you might just make a difference.”

           Marius struggles against his chains again, this time hoping for even the slightest bit of wiggle room. The cold damp of the dungeon wall pressed all along his back reaches deep to his core. But it’s useless; chains aren’t budging.

(Arrest: Scars of Mirrodin) (Art by Daarken)

           Snatcher goes on, stepping a little closer. “But let me tell you something, Marius… Life’s not one of your ‘feel-good’ stories. The ‘good guys’ don’t always win and the ‘bad guys’ don’t always lose. Sometimes good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people.” He stands now, a hand’s width away from Marius. “Even now I’m certain you think that you’ll make it out of this. Perhaps you dream that when my guard is down you’ll spring free and ‘shut down’ whatever operation it is you think that I’m running. Come now Marius. Tell me I’m wrong.”

           Thaclel speaks up. “Why do you torment the poor-“ but she doesn’t get to finish. Snatcher raises a palm in her direction and presses his fingertips together, without taking his eyes of Marius. The Phyrexian feels her neck and jaw muscles clamp up and speech becomes impossible. Try as she might, she can’t.

           Snatcher goes on. “Go on now, Marius. Spit in my face. Tell me that you’ll ‘get me for this’. Show my your defiance somehow. I’m waiting.” Marius glares at him but remains silent. The slaver grins and says, “You think you’re going to be the hero, Marius? Do you know how many would-be champions and heroes I’ve brought to this dungeon?” Snatcher sets a hand on Marius’ shoulder, his other hand still silencing Thaclel. “You’re not the first, Marius. You won’t be the last. You’re not important. You’re not special. You’re just another sad sap would-be-hero. I’ve seen dozens of your type. I see that flare in your eyes. Every single would-be-hero before you has had that same fire in their eyes too.”

           He steps away and turns his back to Marius. “I’ve watched every single one of those fire die, Marius. One by one. Every single time. They all listen to my speech and think they’re going to be the one to prove me wrong. They all think they’re going to be the one to make a difference. The one to succeed where the others failed.”

(Snuff Out: Garruk vs Liliana) (Art by Steve Argyle)

           Snatcher raises his free hand and the chains on Thaclel’s wrists go taught. He then waves his hand in a circle and the chains magnetize against the wall, pinning her as tightly to it as Marius is. The man waves his hand again and Thaclel starts shaking violently. Her body begins to arch out, away from the wall, while her arms are still pressed flat against the wall. Though her neck and jaw muscles are locked, the screams are muffled but powerful and panicked. She tries to flail against the chains but they remain taught. With one final crack Thaclel goes limp, her chest rising ever so gently. Snatcher lowers his hands and turns to face Marius.

           “I’ve ripped open her back and extended her spine.” He explains. “Phyrexian metal was tricky to learn but rewarding. The chains are pulling her constantly against the wall, but her spine is constantly pushing away. Your friend is going to remain there, suspended off the ground against the wall, in an excruciating game of tug-of-war against the wall. Pretty soon, her metallic-flesh bones will reach their stress point and break.” Snatcher walks up to Marius and grabs him by the chin, forcing them both to lock eyes. “I am going to break her. Mentally. And physically. And there is nothing you can do about it. Hero.”

           The slaver lets go of Marius’ chin and starts to walk away toward the dungeon exit. “You are not the first person to come into this dungeon thinking you’ll be the last. I’ve broken many, many, would-be-heroes before you and there will be many after you are gone.” Snatcher arrives at the door and turns to face Marius one last time. “You are not special, Marius. You’re just another unlucky chump who thinks they’re hot stuff. The sooner you give up your illusions of grandeur the less heartbreak you’ll experience in the long run.”

           With a slam, the door closes behind him, the vibrations shaking pent up tears from behind Marius’ eyes. Pressed up tightly against the cold damp of the dungeon wall, his range of vision is limited to little more than the sight of Thaclel’s distorted, tortured, body. All he can do is shut his eyes and try to tell himself that Snatcher is wrong.

           “Don’t listen to him. Thaclel.” Marius says, pushing back tears. “I will break this cycle. I will stop him. He’s wrong Thaclel. You’ll see.”

           “Marius…” Thaclel wheezes out, apparently somehow still conscious even after her violent distortion. “It’s so cold…”

           “I’ll get us out of here Thaclel!” He shouts. “I swear! I’ll get us out of here!”

           An explosive whirring from the end of the dungeon opposite to door distracts them both. A wide two meter cylinder rises out of the floor. Made of concentric rings around a cylindrical glass wall housing a pale blue light, the machine continues to lightly shake but the whirring stops. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, the machine begins to release small waves of white mist. Almost immediately the temperature of the room drops noticeably.

           On top of the machine is a small box with a fine circular grid across its one opening. “This is a gift from Seeker.” It says, the voice very clearly Snatcher’s. “Our little friend is a technological genius. He calls this an Air Conditioner. Funny name that. Conditioner. At first I wondered why he wanted to call it that. But then I realized… That air isn’t what’s being conditioned. It’s you who is being conditioned, by the air. Quite clever. Anyway. I’ll send some food out sometime. When I remember next.”

           Marius hangs his head, as low as he can that is, and tries to fight off tears. “I’m so sorry, Thaclel.” He mutters. “This is all my fault.”

           “So cold, Marius.” Thaclel wheezes, her voice fading. “So cold… My bones. All of it.”

           “I’m sorry Thaclel! I can’t help you! I’m so sorry!” Marius shouts, tears now flowing and leaving streaks of burning cold in their trail.