"No, no, NO!" Sorin Markov shouted, slamming a fist down on the table. It broke in two, sending sheets of paper flying. The vampire growled in frustration, putting a hand to his face. There was no way to remove Nahiri from the Helvault without serious risk to her wellbeing or without replacing the Helvault. Both would require copious amounts of mana that he still was recovering, and no doubt that by the time he had the power to rectify his mistake, he will likely have forgotten or Nahiri would be mentally and emotionally scarred by what was to come. He should have listened…

"Is there no way to free her?" Avacyn asked from her perch on the rafters above him.

It had been a week since he trapped Nahiri within the Helvault. He believed she of all people would be able to escape, given her power. She had yet to emerge. That's when Sorin started to worry and see if he could remove her, only to be met with disappointment. The Helvault could be shattered, but at the risk serious injury or death to Nahiri. The Helvault was impenetrable without becoming ensnared himself. Nahiri was stuck.

"What cannot be destroyed must be bound," he had told Avacyn when he brought the Helvault. To the Planesbound of Innistrad, this would simply mean the demons that plagued them. But Sorin and his creation, Avacyn, knew it was so much more than that. It could, and successfully was, imprison Planeswalkers, godlike being of great magic power who could shapeshift and create and destroy worlds on a whim. Any who Planeswalked to Innistrad with the intent of doing harm would be locked away in the Helvault. The great structure was also a warning to other Planeswalkers, an "Enter if you dare" to them. So far, Sorin hadn't felt the tug of leylines except for Nahiri. The Helvault could do other things as well: Prevent large scale disasters, dampen the power and hunger of Demons, Vampires, Werewolves, Necromancers, and the Undead; prevent access to Innistrad via Planar Bridges like on Dominaria, and keep non-Planeswalker interplanar travelers from entering. Now it was back to bite him in the ass, with his protégé, a woman who had been like a daughter to him, trapped in moonsilver.

Thump, thump, thump!

Sorin and Avacyn looked to the chapel doors. They both knew what it was though. Another Planeswalker had come to Innistrad despite the warning, not that Sorin was completely dissuading them. He went and opened the door, a cold, damp wind rolling in. Standing outside in the rain was Karr Ivorring, shoulders slumped and eyes cast downward. The rain likely masked it to any he passed, but Sorin knew the man was in tears.

"Come in before you get sick," he ordered, moving aside.

"Thank you," Karr responded, stepping into the dimly lit church.

Sorin went to the cabinet for towels and tossed a couple to Karr, who caught them easily, though half-hearted and out of respect to not waste them. He knew the vampiric Planeswalker well enough now to know Sorin hated waste.

"What happened?" Sorin asked, coming over and wiping Karr's face.

"I didn't think it was possible, but Amanisa is dead," Karr answered.

Sorin took a step back. Amanisa Dragonspeaker was 3,000 years his senior, and like him was seemingly impossible to kill. But they were not completely immortal. They could still be killed. One just never heard of a Planeswalker being killed often enough. And here it was, one of the oldest and wisest was dead.

"She knew if Nathiel had gotten to her, he would force secrets from her," Karr explained. "So she died to keep her secrets safe. I carried her to her final resting place, where several of her artifacts and books were sealed away. Those whom had been her friends, teachers, and confidants held a grand funeral for her."

"And Nathiel?" Sorin asked.

"I chased him across the Multiverse," Karr answered. "We landed on Hadroia where we fought and tried to kill each other. The lands were mutilated and burning, so I called on the Avians to usher the people the treetops and the summits of mountains. I had to drown most of the world to save it. And Nathiel still got away." He sobbed. "That damn bastard…"

Sorin sat him down on one of the pews, draping a towel over his shoulders. He felt a small stab in his heart. Amanisa always made it her business to know other Planeswalkers, to offer her wisdom and advice should they need it. Sorin had gone to her for help on the Helvault and Avacyn. He sighed and tried his best to comfort Karr, getting him dry and getting him to sleep.

"You'd think after 5,000 years I'd stop caring," he sighed.

"But you do," Avacyn assured him, gliding down to him. "It's just who you are. Strict, but caring." She gave barest glimpse of a smile, the first ever and the last for a long time. "If you didn't care, I wouldn't be here now."

Sorin nodded. "Thank you."