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“You gave her access to everything, right?” Dad asked as he walked into his archives, leaning heavily on his cane. Tibalt and I were right behind him – mostly in case he stumbled, since he was still recovering from Ob Nixilis’s attack.
Uncle Anhelo nodded. “Of course. She and that Vivien woman spent a whole day combing through it all.”
I wouldn’t say it aloud, but I knew the Halo that had been in there was no longer around because I didn’t smell it in the air as strongly. It was such a harsh smell, threatening to be overwhelming. It would kill me if I were to ever use it. What remained of New Capenna’s angels did not seem to take kindly to what I was.
Tibalt was staring at everything with wide eyes. Unlike me, he hadn’t been in here yet. “This is...a lot of stuff. Reminds me of the Markov Manor, if I’m being honest.”
I grimaced, remembering the last time I had seen my family’s ancestral home. “Except without the dead bodies stoneworked into the walls,” I remarked as I carefully moved through the room. I stopped in front of an angel statue, staring up at the stone face. My heart raced in my chest. It looked...so much like my sister. I hadn’t seen her in years. And she was gone now, completely unmade. I realized I was crying, so I quickly wiped my face with my sleeve.
“...Mathias? You good?” I heard Tibalt ask as he made his way back towards me. He sounded worried.
“...Yeah.” My voice cracked. “This one just...it reminds me of Avacyn.”
Tibalt sized up the statue himself. “It does look like her. Well, before she went nuts, but still. Even the wings are feathery.”
I reached up with a gloved hand and touched the statue’s cheek. My mind was a jumble of emotions, but above all, I missed my sister so much. I wished I had at least gotten the chance to say goodbye.
“You don’t have to be so sappy over it,” Tibalt said, making a face.
I reminded myself that he was a pain mage. I didn’t look away from the statue yet. “Chug a dick, Tibalt.”
He idly flipped through the pages of a book he picked up. “Well, as fascinating as this is, since Elspeth ran off Nixilis...you and I need to head to Innistrad.”
I jerked away from the statue. “...Right...”
I expected Dad to ask about it, but Uncle Anhelo beat him to it. “Why are you going there?”
I took a deep breath and reached into my pocket for the shard of broken glass I always carried with me, ever since my escape. I pulled it out and showed it to the older vampires. “Because I need to jam this in the throat of Runo Stromkirk.”
Dad smiled softly. “Be safe, Mathias.”
“Of course, Dad,” I promised as Tibalt and I stepped back out of the archives to planeswalk. “Tibalt, ready to go?”
Tibalt nodded before he disappeared in a flash of cinders. I closed my eyes, tracking his spark as he left, and vanished into smoke to follow him through the Blind Eternities.
---
Innistrad was dark and drab. Of course, it had always been like that, but it was even darker and more drab when compared to New Capenna’s glitz and glamour.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The sea was quite the distance away, which means we weren’t in Nephalia. The smell of blood and fear meant we were in a place with a high density of vampires compared to humans. Not as much rot and wet dog in the air, so not many zombies or werewolves. “Stensia?” I guessed, glancing around at the cliffs and rocks around us. We had landed near a house, but it looked abandoned.
“Got it in one!” Tibalt tossed me some clothes that he had already stolen from the clothesline. I fumbled the catch. “Change into those and buckle as many of the belts as possible, or you’re gonna stick out too much.”
I shook my head and headed into the house. It was a single-room dwelling. Whoever had lived here had done so alone, and it seems like they had left in a hurry – most of their belongings were still here. A thick layer of dust covered every surface.
I picked up an abandoned lantern and frowned. “Oh house, what have you seen through the years...” I muttered, more to myself than to the walls. I set the lantern back down and quickly changed into the clothing Tibalt had thrown at me. I layered it over my New Capennan clothing to protect against the biting cold, hiding my black suit pants and black button-up shirt under many layers of coat and belts. So many belts. It was like people here thought their clothes would fly away if they weren’t strapped down.
I finally stepped back outside and was unsurprised to see that Tibalt had also changed into Innistrad clothing. Knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had stripped down out in the open to change.
“So, what do we want to do first? Go fight Runo? Cause some trouble?” Tibalt asked.
I froze. What was I doing, trying to take on a vampire progenitor? I wasn’t a warrior. I wasn’t even a particularly skilled mage. I was a scared kid trying to get revenge for ten years of being trapped and forced to sing for the entertainment of other vampires.
I flinched when a hand rested on my shoulder and looked up at Tibalt. The half-devil gave me a lopsided grin. “Chin up, kid. This isn’t my first rodeo, especially not here. We’ll cause some trouble and get you a bit of a confidence boost. Let’s go see a friend of mine.”
I had my doubts that Tibalt actually had friends, especially on Innistrad, but I smiled anyway. It was shaky and I could feel it. “Alright. Lead the way.”
---
There was nothing scarier, I discovered, than a human woman with a sword. Especially when she was pointing it at you. Or rather, pointing it at the person you were hiding behind.
“You have a twisted idea of what the word ‘friend’ means, Tibalt,” I muttered.
“Hey, what can I say? I’m a very charming man,” Tibalt said, seemingly missing the point.
Thalia scowled at him. “Look. I don’t give a damn what you’re doing here, Tibalt, but I’ve had a long couple of days and don’t need your bullshit on top of it.”
I sniffed the air a little. Another vampire was nearby, but Thalia didn’t seem to be worried about it. Was that related to what she said?
“I literally just got here!” Tibalt pleaded. “I’ve even been good.”
Thalia’s blade didn’t waver, but her eyes turned to me. I squeaked and hid behind Tibalt’s coat tails.
“...Whose kid did you kidnap?” she demanded.
“Hey, he’s almost a grown ass adult, and either way I didn’t kidnap him! This is Mathias, he’s another planeswalker from here.”
I quietly thanked the fact that I hadn’t drank any liquids recently, so my eyes didn’t betray my half-and-half heritage. I stayed behind Tibalt, but peered back around him at the human.
Thalia’s blade finally lowered. “I haven’t seen you around, kid.”
I realized she was talking to me. And, frankly, I was starting to feel bitter. “That’s kind of what happens when you spend ten years of your childhood as a songbird.”
Thalia’s eyes widened. “I’m...sorry to hear that.”
“That’s not even the tip of the iceberg. His first planeswalk was right into that War of the Spark thing, where a dragon was trying to steal our souls to become a god. Anyway, we’re here because he’s aiming for revenge on the vampire that held him captive that long. I figured you knew a thing or two about fighting vampires and could give him some pointers,” Tibalt explained.
Thalia sighed and finally sheathed her blade. “Come inside, then. Odric is here, and...things are complicated.”
She led us into her home, which was larger than I expected it to be. She seemed to be important to the people of this village. And though the smell of blood and another hung heavily in the air, it was now cloaked by the smells of food cooking. Curious, I followed my nose to the kitchen and found the source of the vampiric smell – a tall man, a cathar, whose eyes bore black sclera.
I smiled nervously at him. “Can I help in here?”
The man regarded me for a moment. He could definitely smell what I was. But he finally nodded. “Sure.”
We worked together in the kitchen, though I was a bit clumsy with the various utensils. I learned that this was the Odric that Thalia spoke of, and I introduced myself in turn like I was supposed to.
“You’re a vampire too, aren’t you?” Odric finally prompted, cutting some vegetables.
“Half,” I admitted. “The other half is demon. I’m better than both of my biological parents, I’d like to think.”
“It must be painful, being born this way. I can’t imagine what the hunger would be like as a child,” Odric mused aloud.
I remembered. It had kept me up for hours at night when I didn’t want to admit to my sister that I was starving. But she knew, and she willingly fed me her own blood. “It was rough. My sister was kind and let me drink from her when I was starving. But after I was kidnapped... Lamp oil is gross. And cheap wine is worse. Ten years as a songbird taught me that lesson well.”
“You’re so young... How old were you, at the time? If you don’t mind my asking,” he quickly added.
I thought back. “Six years old. My sister went missing, then I was kidnapped by a demon and sold to a vampire noble.”
I could hear Thalia and Tibalt arguing in the other room and glanced through the doorway. Thalia was glaring at Tibalt. “This is surprisingly nice of you, Tibalt. Taking care of a younger planeswalker. What’s your angle?”
Tibalt lowered his voice, but I could hear him anyway. “The vampire who enslaved him? It’s Runo Stromkirk. Even I draw the line there.”
Thalia’s eyes widened. She looked like she couldn’t believe it.
“Did they forget that we can hear them?” Odric mused. “I can’t imagine how...painful all of that was for you. Stromkirk is...”
“A monster in a league of his own,” I whispered. “Which is why I’m back to kill him. If I don’t, his influence will hang over me forever.”
Thalia and Tibalt finally noticed the two of us watching and made their way over. “So,” Thalia began, “Tibalt filled me in. Runo Stromkirk is still a huge threat in Nephalia, and if there’s anything we can do to help...”
“There is,” I said quickly. “You two bear my sister’s holy symbol. Do you know what happened to her spear?”
“Your sister- Avacyn,” Odric realized. “Of course. That’s why you said she went missing ten years ago...”
“It’s...in pieces,” Thalia said, answering my question more directly. “The blade is all that remains.”
“It will do,” I decided.
---
The forge was overwhelmingly hot. I raised the hammer again, striking to finish my new blade under the watchful eye of the blacksmith, who nodded his approval. I picked up the cooling dagger by the hilt, staring at the moonsilver blade. It practically hummed in my hand – not as a threat to my self, but as a symbol of my sister’s legacy. The blade was probably too long to call a dagger, but it felt too short to be a sword proper – not like the thin blade that Thalia wielded, nor the larger blade that Odric always kept within reach.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered. I wished I didn’t have to reforge her weapon into my own. I wished I still had my sister. But I wouldn’t be in the position I was now in if she hadn’t gone missing and then mad, if our father hadn’t unmade her.
I returned to Thalia’s home and showed her the blade. She nodded her approval. Odric was of a similar mind. “Would you like our help?” he offered. “Four people have a better chance at survival than two.”
“I would,” I admitted. “I’m just, uh, gonna apologize for Tibalt being Tibalt ahead of time.”
“We’re used to it, unfortunately,” Thalia said, deadpan. “We’ll head out in the morning.”
---
I could tell when we were close, because I wanted to run in the opposite direction from the manor. I tightened my grip on my new dagger, and my other hand dipped into my pocket to grab the glass shard.
“Want a drink?” Tibalt offered, pulling up his sleeve. I almost said no, but I needed the strength, so I let my fangs extend and sank them into his arm. The taste was sharp, harsh, spicy, and almost painful, but I drank a fair amount and let it settle. Tibalt cauterized the wound with his own fire magic and pushed his sleeve back down.
“Ready?” Thalia prompted, drawing her blade. Odric did the same. Tibalt pulled out two knives from angels-know-where. I took a deep breath and summoned all of my courage.
Remember, kit, I could remember Kitt Kanto saying, you can be as nervous as you want. Just make sure you get done what needs to be done. “Ready.”
The door was kicked in by Odric. Thalia and I darted past him, taking the Stromkirk spawn by surprise. I recognized most of them and, honestly, enjoyed driving the holy blade into their bodies, watching them hit the ground and not get back up. They had tortured me for ten years. I had only waited one year for my revenge.
Tibalt went past me, knives flashing like fangs as he took vampires down with a predator-like efficiency. Odric and Thalia fought together in harmony, covering each other’s backs.
I ripped my dagger out of another vampire, watching the blood spray. I must have looked wild – blood splatter across my face and chest, darkened sclera from my feeding, a wild grin on my face. This wasn’t like the War of the Spark, where I was a civilian in a war zone. I was a hunter of those who had wronged me, and they were all penned up.
The last vampire hit the ground. I forced my way through the halls and to the songbird cages. I recognized a few faces – and others were new, in the cages of those who had been killed. Tibalt was beside me, breaking the locks and handing the prisoners – humans, other vampires, werewolves even – off to Thalia and Odric to bring outside safely.
“We haven’t found him yet,” I growled. I could barely recognize my own voice.
“He’s here. I can tell.” Tibalt raised his head, as though trying to see through the walls. “I’m going to guess...balcony. For the drama of it all.”
“Maybe I can pitch his body off of it.”
“Now you’re speaking my language!”
T ogether, we continued storming the manor, until we made it to the master bedroom and I kicked the door in myself. As Tibalt predicted, Runo was standing on the balcony, turned away from us and looking far too casual for someone whose manor was being invaded. In one hand, he held a staff or bent trident of some sort.
Something was wrong here.
I slipped into the room, staying near the left wall and keeping my eyes locked on Runo. Tibalt stayed near the other wall, disappearing into the shadows like a geist.
“Mathias Markov.” His voice had haunted my memories and nightmares for eleven years now.
“Runo Stromkirk.” I kept my dagger at the ready.
“I knew you would be back. Birds always return to the nest.”
My anger roared inside of me. But I kept a wary eye on Runo. What was his angle? Edith – bless her heart – had taught me how to move like a Maestro agent, to know that everyone had an ultimate goal. He’s a coward, I remembered hissing about Ob Nixilis. First to run when things don’t go the way he wants them to. We just have to catch him off guard.
Runo turned to face me, hopefully not seeing Tibalt. He was grinning in an unhinged manner. “Some progenitors prefer to consort with demons. Me? I have the old gods.” He raised his hand theatrically. “COME TO ME, KROTHUSS, LORD OF THE DEEP!”
Nothing responded to his call. At least, not yet, and I wasn’t about to wait to find out if anything would.
I lunged forward. His staff blocked my dagger, and I kept pushing. He was stronger than me, but he was also blabbering about the old gods or something. Despite all of his theatrics and boasting, nothing rose from the waves as we fought.
He threw a punch, which I jerked out of the way of, but he shoved me away. My back hit the balcony door, slamming it shut and separating me from Tibalt. I growled and dodged the pointed edge of his weapon, getting closer. I used my dagger to keep the weapon to the side and slammed the broken glass into his throat.
“When you meet your gods,” I growled, “tell them that Mathias Maestros sent you.” Runo choked on his own blood, and I shoved him over the railing and watched as his body hit the ground with a sickening crunch.
Then I threw up.
Tibalt finally got the balcony door open behind me and awkwardly pat my back. I clung to the railing, my knuckles as white as paper, and breathed deeply. “Good job, little bro. How do you feel, besides the throwing up?”
“Like I might do it a second time,” I groaned, before throwing up over the edge a second time. Blood hung in the air and on me. The smell of the sea no longer sent fear through the core of my very being. The man who had enslaved me for ten years and haunted me for another was finally dead.
I was free. Genuinely, truly, honestly free.
“Let’s get down to Thalia and Odric,” Tibalt recommended. I nodded, finally straightening up. I realized he was limping as he moved.
“Did you get hurt?” I double-checked.
“Eh, a little bit. This is far from the worst injury I’ve sustained,” he dismissed. I hummed to acknowledge that. Then I offered my arm for support anyway. Tibalt shook his head with a small smile and accepted my aid.
---
Thalia and Odric were glad to see us, which was a stark contrast to how Thalia originally reacted to Tibalt. We sent the freed humans to the town and directed the freed vampires and werewolves towards Stensia and Kessig, respectively. I didn’t know what they would do now, but it wasn’t my job anymore. One werewolf, an older woman, promised to take care of the vampires and lead them to Stensia, since she was going that way to rejoin her howlpack.
“You did a great job in there, Mathias,” Odric said. “You showed more bravery than most cathars I’ve known.”
I smiled a little. “It’s...nice to have that weight off of me now.” My hand dropped to the sheathed dagger on my belt. “And it’s nice to have my sister’s legacy.”
“Speaking of legacies,” Tibalt began, with as much tact as a rhox with a sledgehammer, “do you want to go talk to your father? Sorin?”
I hesitated.
He had put the plane before me. I understood why. Innistrad needed all of the help it could get.
But he had also unmade my sister. Left me at the mercy of the Stromkirks. Never looked for me. Didn’t even notice I was in the middle of the War of the Spark.
I made up my mind. “Yeah. Yeah, I should.” I looked at Thalia and Odric. “I don’t want to keep asking more of you two, because you guys have your own duties, but-”
“We’ll come with you,” Thalia promised. “For as long as you’ll have us, we’ll be with you.”
I smiled. It was nice to have friends, I decided.
---
Markov Manor was more put-together than I remembered it being. A lot less bodies in the walls, for one. Cleaner. Darker.
The waning gibbous moon peeked over the horizon as we walked to the doors. I took hold of the giant door knockers and slammed them against the sturdy wood three times, then stepped back. My stomach felt like it was twisting into knots.
Footsteps. The door cracking open, then being flung open. Arms around me, a hug – a hug – and the near-forgotten smell of my father. His voice. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry, Mathias.”
I hugged back. “I know, Papa. I know.” I didn’t have to forgive him.
The next few hours passed like lightning. I told my father about what had happened, how I got free, the War of the Spark, being taken under Ajani Goldmane’s wing for a little bit, winding up in New Capenna, about Dad, training under Kitt Kanto, and finally returning to Innistrad with Tibalt and getting Thalia and Odric’s help to kill Runo Stromkirk.
And the four of us finally learned about why Avacyn went mad – the planeswalker Nahiri, the dragon Ugin, the Eldrazi, using Zendikar as a prison and then Innistrad becoming a sacrifice. Then the attempt to create an eternal night, first from the werewolf Tovolar and then Olivia Voldaren kidnapping my great-grandfather and marrying him (which was gross).
I pondered it all later that night, staring up at the gibbous moon, sitting alone on the roof. It was hard to put all of my thoughts into words. I tried anyway. “Innistrad is where I was born,” I said, starting with the facts. “It’s where I spent most of my life. It’s where I spent my entire capture. It’s where I’ve felt the most pain.”
I thought about the high-soaring buildings of New Capenna and realized something . “New Capenna is my home . It’s where I feel safest. It’s where Dad and Uncle Anhelo are. It’s...where I was put before the plane. It’s where I have a family in the Maestros.” That’s what I wanted. A family. Not just the ghost of a legacy and a surname that was a curse.
Something was moving down below. I squinted, picking out the small child in the moonlight. She was dark-skinned, probably around eight years old. Not meant to be here, especially not at this hour.
I stood up. I hadn’t cleaned up yet, so I was still covered in blood, but I didn’t have time to get changed and clean up. I slid down to a balcony, then made my way down to the ground from there. The girl was still standing there, so I approached her. “Hey there, kid. Are you okay?” I asked.
Moths fluttered around her. She looked up at me, as if analyzing me. Her dark eyes were very sharp, too intelligent for someone her age. One of the moths brushed against me, but I tried not to react to it. “I’m okay,” she finally said. “I’m Aminatou. I’m a planeswalker.”
“So am I,” I said. “I’m Mathias. Do you need anything to eat?” Her stomach growled. She giggled. I smiled, trying not to seem threatening. “Guess that’s a ‘yes’. Come on in, we’ll get you something. And I can introduce you to some other planeswalkers.”
“I’d like that,” Aminatou softly agreed.
---
“Ajani’s going to be sending more young planeswalkers your way,” Sorin warned me and Tibalt. “There’s a chance that Dominaria and New Phyrexia are going to clash soon, so he’s gathering up planeswalking kids and sending them to somewhere he thinks is safe. New Capenna is at the top of his list.”
Tibalt kept an arm on my shoulder, effectively using me as a cane. “Well, I’m not exactly the parenting kind of guy.”
“We can tell,” Thalia grumbled.
“You don’t have to be,” Sorin deadpanned. “Just keep the kids safe until this blows over.”
“We can do that, Papa,” I promised. I had washed up my face, but my stolen coat was still covered in bloodstains. “I’ll let the family heads know.”
Aminatou clutched my hand tightly. “Will we be okay?” she asked.
“We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe.” At first, I thought there wasn’t much I could do. But I had killed Runo Stromkirk, so clearly I could do something. “Thalia, Odric, at least let us walk you guys back to your place.”
“It’s safest to move in groups,” Odric agreed. With that, the five of us were off again.
---
New Capenna was a bright, beautiful relief compared to Innistrad. The three of us – myself, Tibalt, and Aminatou – touched down outside of the pre-arranged Broker safehouse that Dad set up for us. We made it through the door without trouble, and I felt myself relax when I saw Dad again.
I offered him a smile. “Hey Dad.”
“Mathias,” he replied, sounding relieved. His eyes swept down my coat, taking note of the blood splatter that I still hadn’t cleaned up. “Please tell me that’s not your blood.”
I grinned. “Nope. Stromkirk’s. Made good on my promise.” I looked down at Aminatou, who was still calm. “Aminatou, this is my dad, Xander. Xander, this is Aminatou, she’s a planeswalker like me and Tibalt.”
“Except she’s got freaky moths,” Tibalt grumbled. “And can manipulate fate with them.”
Dad knelt down – mostly on his bad knee – to look at Aminatou. He offered her a smile. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hello. Mathias and Tibalt said you were nice,” she said softly.
“I said he was nice, Tibalt said he looked nice, and that means something very different,” I corrected. Tibalt cackled, and Dad looked like he didn’t want to know.
Once Tibalt got done cackling, he relayed Sorin’s message. “She’s not the only kid coming your way. Ajani’s basically been collecting children planeswalkers and is looking for a safe place for them to stay until this New Phyrexia thing gets taken care of.”
“Ajani?” Dad repeated.
“Ajani Goldmane,” I clarified. “He’s a leonin, one of the nicest planeswalkers you could ever meet. I met him when I planeswalked for the first time. He wants to make sure that everyone eventually finds a home.”
Like I had found New Capenna .