When one is locked out, shut down, forced to hide, what does one do? One becomes desperate. All will fall at the hand of that desperation.- First Prophecy of the Curious.
Eons ago three powerful entities were sealed in a cage of immense proportions. Nicol bolas, the god, Wesly Rice, the traitor, and Jacob Wilson, the curious. All of these powerful being were planeswalkers, and had the power to kill with naught but their minds. Bolas was the scourge of the multiverse, the only being capable of destroying entire planes effortlessly. Wesly was his apprentice, and a personal friend of Wilson. Wilson was the defender of earth, and the seer of his time. The cage in which these three were imprisoned was impenetrable, or so was thought. With the combined might of three Planeswalkers, nothing is impossible. After eons of torture, scheming, and gathering knowledge, the prison is about to crack. A fissure, is about to let one escape. A blank void in the multiverse waited. Emptied of its once greatest plane, earth.
Wesly channeled his energy, sparks flying from his hands, mana flowing into his soul. The last mana, in fact. This was the thousandth attempt at breaking free, and only one thing separated it from all the previous failures, the planeswalker Wilson lent assistance. Wilson and Wesly had both been raised by the witch Lelliana Vess, but even before Wesly and Wilson had known each other. Lelliana had brainwashed Wilson's mind, and Wesly's as well. After eons in this cage, however Wesly's mind was his own.
"Are we all clear on the plan?" Wilson asked, giving a wink toward Wesly.
"Not much to it," Bolas said, his voice a gnarled twist of lies and deciet. Wesly simply nodded. Once the veil between earth and the multiverse had been torn, Wesly had been instructed by Bolas to tear the portal open from the other side, with the help of Chandra and Jace, the only two surviving planeswalkers. Nicol Bolas had enslaved Jace after his defeat, and he stationed him on the plane of Ravnica, city of Guilds. Chandra would most likely be on Innistrad with Thalia and, unbeknownst to Bolas, Lelliana. All three women needed Wilson alive for their own reasons. This was assuming that they were even still alive. Thalia was most likely to be dead of old age, and Lelliana could have very well been slain by Chandra. Chandra was still alive because Wilson was, for they were permanently conjoined by their souls. It was time to stop thinking however, as the fissure in the shield was about to fall.
"Now!" Wilson said, giving Wesley a trusting look. They had their own plans, a way to stop bolas. Wesly took into the air, propelled by magical flames spurting from his fists. Freedom was his, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. Wilson collapsed as Wesly left the plane, and Bolas was the only thing that remained with him. Wesly turned to face Ravnica, not to seek Jace, but to make a delivery, and to hopefully never return.
Rakdos parties are... Interesting to say the least. Blood and gore were never exactly his taste, although Wilson would love partying with the undead. Howls and screeches filled the air, and blood dripped from the ceiling. It didn't take Wesly long to find the individual he was looking for. He might not be able to escape the cage, but he could send a message with ease. The boy scrambled up to him, holding his hand out. His piercing bobbed up and down as he strode, scraping his chin with the barb. His hair was jet black, streaked with red. Blood dripped slowly from his mouth, splattering against the floor, flowing to the corpse he had just ripped a chunk of flesh from. Tendons and gristle fell from between his fingers, dragging across his arms, leaving tendrils of blood that curled all the way down to his elbow, where the streams conjoined and flew off, the droplets scattering across the floor, and then rejoining into one pool at the lowest ground point. Wesley looked at the pool before simply crossing over it and striding to the boy. The boy eyed Wesley as his rioting behavior slowly calmed. Wesley reached into his satchel, and drew forth a ring. Three scars from where the ring had once shattered shone, reflecting off near fires. Wesley pulled the ring inward, silent and quick, scarcely avoiding the man's grasp. Snarls flew from between the mans lips. He grasped at his side, removed a pouch, and hurled it at Wesley. Wesley caught it in one deft grasp, then threw himself across the blind eternities without a second thought, dropping the ring to the ground. The boy turned the ring left behind in his hands. A key to into infinite power. The secret to the victory of Rakdos. The ring slipped onto his finger of its own accord, plunging spikes deep into the finger of the boy, rooting itself into him. He lurched, writhed, and finally, collapsed in a pile on the ground. His body didn't stop twitching for days, however. The day it stopped twitching, it was no longer his. The ring was an artifact that could hold a part of someone's soul, and it allowed the entity to dominate the mind of the wearer. As it turned out, Bolas was the only person stall in the cage.
Wilson dragged himself toward the Izzet guild gate.
"The hell do you want!" Wilson shouted over his shoulder, eying the gateless rebels behind him. The gateless rebels simply roared as a mob, quickly advancing upon Wilson. Wilson's arm bled and oozed, and his fingertips scarcely flared as he tried to cast the most simple of spells. The body he had inherited was weak, and its magical properties were useless in their current state. Lightning shot by Wilson's face, fiery and discolored. The bolt had come from a guildmage. He was tall in stature and appeared to be very old. Then is smacked Wilson in the face like a frisbee. That was blue magic! The spell had created a wall of fog. The man grabbed Wilson's wrist,
"Nice ring," he eerily toned, "mind if I take a look?" Wilson writhed, struggled, pulled, but to no avail. The man removed the ring from Wilson's finger, and sent the boy back through the wall of fog. "I am the architect of thought," he said, eyeing the ring, "but you know me as Jace Berlin." He held no surprise at seeing another planeswalker. Jace had waited, careful and predictably, eons for Bolas to break free, but he was not disappointed at his lack of arrival. "I suppose you have many questions for me," Jace started, "and I many for you." Jace took the ring in his palm, careful not to let is slip onto his finger, then stood straight, walked forward, and smiled. For the first time in his life he felt truly free.