This will be the first part in a long-spanning story about a Planeswalker, one who saw what the Time Spiral would wreck and spend several millennia striving to prevent it from happening. The story of a Blue-Red mage, the Morphling who got pulled into the future, and twisted into the Torchling. Upon his return, he became both, and more: a Planeswalker. Gathering many weapons, tools and items of magic power, he strengthened himself to protect Dominaria, and Dominia itself, from planar entropy. This is the story of Tordoc Niason, the Elementalist Supreme.
Prologue
Bored. Something you're often when you're the most intelligent being in the world. Today was no exception. Today was a special day though: the Millennial, the day where it is remembered that one thousand years ago the world had risen out of chaos into a state of law, where everybody, from the lowest goblin to the most powerful demon, was under the effect of the web of order, and was safe and protected. In theory, that is.
The Guildmaster looked at the people gathered in front of him and sighted. They were members of the guild, trying to impress their Guildmaster with feats of magic and thought. It was rather pathetic though, magic spells that proved too powerful or backfired, incinerating their users. Why did he allow every member of the guild to try and impress him? Sure, it thinned out the incompetent in sometimes gory fashion, but that was about it. Nobody today had even triggered a feign of interest. The last man trying to impress him was promptly eaten by his summoned heads made of lightning, and they began to come after the other members of the Guild.
With everyone else in the room chased away, the Guildmaster shook his head and turned his gaze at the last man in the room. He wore the colorful fabrics dyed in the colors of the Guild. "You are the last. What can you do?" he asked the man bluntly, wanting to attend other matters. Without a word, the man began to approach the Guildmaster. Curiously, the Guildmaster stayed silent as well as the man came close, but when he touched the him, the Guildmaster wanted to question what he was to about to do. The question was quelled as the Guildmaster was thrown through a wall of what only could have been intense pain, although he did not move himself. He wanted to shake off the man who touched him, but failed. Then, he felt himself pulled out of his world, and he fell silent. He beheld eternity. In a few moments, the Guildmaster was dropped out of this strange place, and landed on a slab of hardened lava. As he regained his senses, he saw a world completely alien from his own.
He saw the man who had taken him here standing not far from him, with his back to the Guildmaster, arms behind his back.
"Kidnapping a Guildmaster? I ought to immolate you for that." he told his attacker.
"Try it. You'll fail." the man only said. The Guildmaster was infuriated. This man took him against his will to another world, then insulted his abilities as well? He'll see how hard you'll fail. Taking a deep breath, the Guildmaster produced a cone of flame that enveloped the man. When they burned out, the man still stood, his clothes were not even smoking.
"Told you." the man replied to the attack.
The Guildmaster looked around. "Where did you bring me?"
"The island of Shiv, on the plane of Dominaria." the man replied.
"Plane... so there are other inhabitable worlds out there. How many planes are there?" the Guildmaster asked.
"Infinite. It would take you eternity to count them all, and planes will be created and destroyed during the process of counting. Nobody knows." the man replied again.
"I see. Who are you? How did you bring me here? Why did you do it?" the Guildmaster's heart began to race. Here were things he did not know. Here he could learn, something he hadn't done in millennia. Not on this scale, at least.
"I am Tordoc Niason. I am a Planeswalker, a divinity of the Multiverse. I travel the worlds that are part of existence, and from them I learn, grow stronger and collect things." Tordoc turned around, and looked the Guildmaster in the eye. Something few dared. "I brought you here for this reason. You are ancient, and have access to magic that I do not know. I offer you my knowledge of the Multiverse, knowledge that nobody on your world would ever be capable of knowing, in exchange of your teachings."
"And ripping me from my world was your best way of getting this across?" the Guildmaster asked again.
"Would you have believed me if I had just told you in your tower?" Tordoc shrugged.
"Believed? I already thought it to be quite likely that other worlds outside of mine exist. I would not have given your offer a thought though, without this... demonstration." the Guildmaster paused. "What would you do if I declined your offer?"
"Take you back to your plane, and erase all your memories of this conversation. You are strong, Guildmaster, but I am a god. I can destroy your free will and turn you into my slave with a touch." the Planeswalker said without bluff.
The Guildmaster smirked. "Don't think that could happen without a fight. But I agree to your terms, as long as you take me back safe."
"Then we have a deal." Tordoc spoke, and touched the Guildmaster again. This time he was prepared for the first impact, and landed on the floor of his tower gently.
One of the Guildmaster's aides entered the room and bowed deeply. "My lord, the last of the lightning heads have been destroyed. Three died, seven were injured of which two critically, and twelve had minor wounds."
The Guildmaster nodded. "Very well. I want to dictate a note about today for the Guild."
"Of course, Guildmaster." the man conjured a notebook and writing utensils. "When you're ready, my lord."
He cleared his throat, a deep, rumbling sound. "To all members of the Izzet League. A thousand years ago, we united under my banner, and I lead you to greatness. I promised you that those amongst your number who had proven themselves worthy with a test or achievement. Today at the Millennial, one of your number has risen. He will no longer be remembered as the man he was, but by his new name: Tordixiz. He shall receive the touch of the Firemind, be immersed in the brilliance of passion, and become more than he might ever had become. Work hard, think creative, and ascend as well. So decrees Niv-Mizzet, the Firemind."
The aide rolled up his text roll. "I will see to it that this is spread immediately to all our members." he bowed and left the room.
"'Become more?' I believe I already am more than any member of the Guild, even you." Tordoc laughed.
"Don't push it, kid." Niv-Mizzet grumbled. "You might be a great wizard, but I am still big and heavy as a house, and power won't save you from being crushed to death."
"We'll see, Guildmaster. We'll see." the Planeswalker smiled.