Prologue:

"Well," Bronn said to himself as the hordes of Feral Elves decended upon him and his regiment, "I'm fucked."

The once plentiful mana in the battlefield had been swallowed by the soldiers on both sides of this Gruesome conflict, leaving nothing but a stain in the air. The corpses of elves, men, merfolk, giants, and all manner of beast surrounded them like leaves fallen from the now smoldering trees. Bronn was spending the last few moments of his life deciding how he would have used the mana if it had been available. Would he have created a wall of fire to slow down the elves? Would he have summoned a pack of wolved to act as reinforcements? Would he have even been able to create an illusionary dragon to give the elves some doubt in their plan?

It didn't matter now, Bronn noted, as the elves were barely an arenas length from them. Bronn and the rest of his fellow soldiers lifted their weapons meekly, refusing to go down without a fight but too tired to put up much resistance. Bronn wondered how many were hoping an elf would just run into the end of their sword.

Then the elves hit.

Most men from lands without the elves presence beleive them to be graceful creatures, weilding fine silver swords and donning elegant armour, killing with mercy and aiming for a peaceful resolution to conflict. Elves were closer to goblins or hungry dogs. Elves would rush in force, killing with clubs or crude spears whilst wearing armour carved from whatever beast they had managed to hunt, skin, and tan. The elves would start devouring their enemy, whether the attacks had killed the poor victim or not. Elves were so akin to beasts, in fact, that a sorcourer skilled enough in the Green magic of nature could pull strength directly from them.

Bronn was not this skilled.

Bronn watched as the men in front of him were slaughtered and feasted upon, watching his enemy fight over the fresh corpses of his friends. Bronn watched as the elves behind these clambered over their kin and started killing more men. Bronn watched this happen several times before the first elf reached him.

Lifting his sword he managed to slit the throat of the elf in front of him out of pure luck, watching the next approach him whilst hearing the screams of the men that stood before him seconds ago. Bronn tried to fight but was quickly overcome by a combination of fatigue and the volume of elves that were trying to kill him or simply push past him to other prey. As Bronn fell to the floor, he felt his chest give way as an elf stood on him to stop him getting away and allow the elf time to enjoy their meal. Bronn felt the warm pain of the elf biting into his leg, and the rip of the elf pullin the flesh away. Bronn felt the course texture of his thrat, and only then realised he had been screaming in pain. Past this Bronn was only barely aware of what was happening. Bronn tried in vain to summon the last of the mana that he hoped was inside him but nothing happened. Bronn gave himself to the growing darkness, hoping the pain would soon subside.

**Chapter One**

Bronn woke up.

Taking a few moments to realise what this meant, that he had just dreamed the ordeal, Bronn moved to climb out of his bunk to prepare for the upcoming battle. As he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, his body collapsed under his weight and he screamed in agony. What Bronn had been ignoring up until this point is the bandages over his body and the soft white glow around them, none of which had been there when he went to sleep the previous evening. Stranger still is that Bronn wasn't in his bunk, but in some sort of marble building which was far cleaner than any he had seen in many years.

As he took in his surroundings, through eyes blurred from the recent pain, Bronn found himself to be in the room by himself with only his bed, a Basin, and a door. With a sudden out of terror, Bronn realised he must have rund away from the battle somehow and was now being treated so he could be tried as a deserter. Bronn climed slowly back into the bed, hoping that his lack of recollection would at least help him in the coming trial.

No sooner had Bronn managed to convince himself he needed to sleep, the door of the room gently opened and a young man wearing a blue cloked walked in. Bronn eyed the new face suspiciously, having not encountered this type of uniform before, and barely caught the man introducing himself.

"My name is Seidan," said the young man as he was emptying his, surprisingly deep, pockets of bandages and bread "may I ask who you are?"

"Corporal Bronn of the Icatia Royal Army. I would like to make this my first formal apology of fleeing from conflict. Whilst I do not recall how I escaped, I can only assume is was blind cowardice." Brann responded as he pulled himself into a sitting position, interupting his speach with grunts of discomfort.

"A soldier you say?" Seidan said, moving closer with the bandages. "Pehaps the Boros healers may have been better for this. Ah well"

Seidan started to reach for Bronn's leg and whilst his intent was clearly to help, Bronn instinctivly pulled away and flinched. Siedan raised his hands in a show of peace, indicating to the bandages he was holding and then to Bronn's leg. Bronn nodded after a second and allowed the strange man to work.

Bronn noticed that Seidan was lost in throught whilst changing the bandages and, as he couldn't bare to look at what his leg must look like if his dream was a reality, started to realise that his desertion had barely been registered by the man.

When Seidan had finished applying the fresh bandage, Bronn began to speak.

"Who are you? Where am I? Wha- What the fuck is going on right now?"

"I am Seidan, I am a part of the Simic Combine. You are in one of our guest houses at the moment. I brought you here as I didn't feel it was fair to have our mages," Seidan paused for a beat. "ah, fix you up without your consent. As to what lead to you being here, I am as unsure as you are. I was out looking for a few samples for a project when a sudden light distracted me. I went to investigate and saw you lying there glowing. I had assumed you were a member of the Izzet League trying out
some new form of transportation, however since you seemed as confused by your appearence as myself this either isn't true or you have seriously hurt yourself."

Seidan looked at Bronn with an expression that indicated he wanted the blanks filled in.

Bronn shrugged and said "I have no idea who the Izzet League are, nor how I got here. How far from Icatia am I?"

"I have never heard of such a place," responded Seidan, shrugging. "However when you are able to walk properly, you may be able to find some more information in the City. I would suggest you rest some more first though."

"If this place is anything like Icatia, that's probably wise. If I may stay in your care for a few more days to recoup, I would be happy to repay any debt that I owe."

Seidan chuckled and nodded, handing some bread to Bronn. "You may stay as long as you need, my friend. You owe me nothing, except maybe some housework once you are able to do so. I prefer to deal in favors rather than finance as I want for litte. This is probably just as well, as I doubt anywhere in Ravnica will accept the coin you hold."

Seidan indicated to Bronn's bag, and explained he had checked in case anything looked to explode upon recieving a slight glare from Bronn.

Nodding in understanding, Bronn started to lay back down.

"I am started to feel weak again, so I will rest if that is okay?" said Bronn

"Of course, if there is anything you need I will likely be just beyond this door." Seidan said retreating towards the same door he entered through. "There is a washroom to the left and I will leave some fresh clothes there for you.

Bronn nodded and muttered his thanks as he began to slip out of conciousness.