A Past Forgotten, a magic: the gathering fanfic

It was a beautiful, clear night. Chandra stared out the window, cheek in her hand, contemplating her life choices as she stared at the moon. It was something her grandmother always told her to do. "When you're confused, look to the moon for answers." Chandra always thought it was just the typical nonsense the High Priestess would speak. Lately though, she's been finding herself doing it more and more often. The last time she turned to the moon, it told her to seek out the Monks of Mt Keralia for training. Tonight, it was silent.

She sighed and turned back to the dye vats, giving them another good stir. When she first arrived on Regatha, she had found herself in the capital city, almost 100 miles from the mountain. Flat broke and with no means of transportation, she went to earn money the only way she knew how: sewing. Sewing was the one thing her mother always insisted she know how to do, even going so far as to have Chandra apprentice as one in her youth. She didn't keep up with it much, and 100 years later she found her skills were lacking. So really she was the grunt of the head seamstress doing all the jobs no one else wanted to do. For example: watching over the dyeing vats through the night because "the fabric is very delicate and can disintegrate if you're not careful, stupid girl!"

That's how she was when he walked in. Tired, cranky, covered in blue and green dye, and just a total mess hunched over the vats and trying to see if the fabric was the right color yet. His cough made her jump, splashing some of the green dye onto her clothes in the process. She swore under her breath and was about to rip this guy a new one when she looked up at him and stopped. He was young, maybe not much older than her, with shaggy dark hair and the iciest blue eyes she'd ever seen. Handsome, perhaps in an untraditional way. He was a skinny little bean pole that looked as though a stiff wind could knock him over.

"What do you want? We're closed," she finally said, moving off the platform and over to a bucket. She figured she should try to salvage her shirt, but it was probably a lost cause.

"I'm sorry, I saw a light on and assumed…" He trailed off. "Is it ruined?"

"No, it's just got a big splash of dye on it, it's totally fine." Her back was to him, so Chandra couldn't see his face, but she could feel him wincing from the sarcasm. As she was about to toss the rag away, the stain vanished. Confused, she looked back at him to see his eyes dimming, as if they had just glowed with the use of his magic. "Thanks. Now what do you want?"

He held up a bundle of blue fabric and unfurled it. It used to be a cloak, the hood was still intact but there was a huge, jagged tear down the center. "Can it be repaired?" he asked sheepishly.

Chandra took the cloak to inspect it and felt a familiar sting of magic woven into the fabric. She turned it this way and that as he watched, anxiously. "Yeah the tear's easy enough to fix," she said, handing it back to him.

"But?"

"But… I can't do it. At least not tonight. Whenever we get a garment that has spells on it, we need a spell weaver to come in and make sure it's still solid. Then she hovers over us as we fix it to make sure it stays intact. And seeing as I'm the only on here at the moment…" He nodded in understanding. "Look, if you want to leave it here, I'll send word to her first thing and let you know. Do you have an address that I can send a message to?"

He shook his head, rolling the cloak up again. His brow furrowed, and she supposed he was having trouble deciding what to do.

After a minute, he asked, "The tear… Is it going to be obvious?"

"Oh yeah," Chandra said with a slight chuckle.

"…Do you think you can design something? To hide it, that is."

Chandra gave him a small smile and grabbed a few pieced of paper and a pencil. She sat down at one of the cutting benches and, after pushing away some odd and ends, gestured for him to sit next to her.

"I'm Chandra, by the way," she said as he took his seat.

"Jace. Nice to meet you."

"Can you fix it?"

Chandra looked down at the sweater and then over her imaginary glasses at Jace, who at least had the decency to look sheepish and embarrassed. She arched an eyebrow. He cringed. Gideon laughed in the doorway.

"You're screwed man," he laughed, scrubbing his wet hair with a towel. "Better run now, lest the boys end up with nasty burns." He wiggled his eyebrows, let out a little chortle, and kept on his way down the hall.

"How did this happen?" Chandra's voice was surprisingly even as she set the torn sweater aside and turned back to Jace. She crossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap, and leveled a glare on him that could (and should) have killed him right then and there.

"Well you know that telekinesis isn't my forte," he started, biting his lip. There were few things he feared in life, and Chandra's cool rage was top of the list. At least when her hair was on fire and she was screaming he knew exactly how pissed she was. But calm and controlled provided no indicators of how deep her anger went. It terrified him. "And neither is it Zane's, apparently." That was all the explanation he was going to give. Until, of course, Chandra's eyes narrowed. "I swear I didn't mean to throw him into that tree!"

"WHAT"

"It was an accident and he's perfectly fine! But his sweater caught on a branch on the way down… Broke his fall, actually."

"You threw my son into a TREE?!"

"To be fair, he tried to toss me off a cliff just a few minutes earlier. But that was an accident too!" Chandra groaned and put her head in her hands. "Like you didn't do worse when you were training."

"You're both morons," she muttered into her hands. She picked her head up and just sighed. "What made me think you'd be any better than his other masters? What made me so delusional?"

"My dashing good looks?" he offered, puffed up for only a second before her stare made him small again. "So they say."

She just shook her head and looked at the sweater again. It was Zane's favorite, and the hood and a sleeve was torn off, along with a bunch of holes. Easy enough to fix, most everything was torn on a seam, but there was something bothering her…

"What makes you think I can fix it?" she asked, her anger dissipated. Jace didn't answer right away and this time she turned to him. His brows were furrowed, he was looking straight down at the floor, and he was picking at his left thumb nail. Chandra wasn't even sure if he was aware he was doing it, but it was his typical pose when he was trying to recall something. She felt a pang in her heart that went right down her spine. A familiar feeling these days, so much so that she stopped flinching months ago.

"You just seem like a capable person I guess," he said, shaking his head. He knew that wasn't right but he couldn't figure out why, and Chandra felt that pang again. She still didn't flinch. "Didn't you tell me once that you could sew?"

"Must have," she said, slumping in her chair, pain clear on her face. He was still looking at the floor, so she took the chance to turn her back to him. The only thing worse than his not remembering is his not noticing her pain. "Just… don't do this again, okay? I lost his father, I can't lose him too."

She'd never see the look he gave her as he picked his head up. A mixture of sympathy and agony. The mention of Zane's father always stirred up a dark part of his heart. He gulped down the lump in his throat and nodded, even though she couldn't see it.

"I promise."

They spoke all through the night. Most of it was designing the new additions to the cloak, but in the wee hours of the morning the conversation shifted to more philosophical grounds (as things tend to do when you're sleep deprived). Chandra could see a deeply intelligent mind beneath the tattoos and the eyeliner. Every word he spoke was calculated, measured, and thought out; such a counter to her impulsive and mostly explosive responses. It made for an interesting night. When the shop owner returned in the morning, Jace finally left with a promise to return later. The spell weaver arrived shortly after he left and Chandra mended the cloak in record time.

As promised, Jace returned later in the day, just as the shop was about to close. When he walked in, the owner gave Chandra a knowing look and smiled at her. She just signed and handed Jace the cloak.

"Well let's see it," she said, a proud smile on her face. "Go on, put it on. Make sure it still works properly."

He arched an eyebrow at her and with a flourish, draped the cloak around his shoulders. He pulled the hood up and he was able to relax for the first time in days. The spell to block out everyone's thoughts was still working, and he could let go of his own spell. It felt good to not have a chunk of his concentration going to that every minute of every day. And the familiar weight of the heavy cloak felt good around his shoulders.

"It's perfect," he said, giving her a thankful smile. "And it looks great. Thank you."

"Any time," she said with small giggle. "It was no big deal."

Jace settled the bill with the shop owner and turned back to Chandra, who was packing up her bag. "So how can I thank you? Can I walk you home?"

"No," was the simple reply. "I don't let strange men know where I live."

"Dinner then?"

The boldness of the offer stopped her half way out the door. She expected it to be a joke, but when she turned back to look at him, she could see he was serious. That made her weary. The last man who asked her to dinner ended up as cinders after he tried to force himself on her. She didn't much trust men after that, especially not handsome ones that catch her off guard. Though, he did have the entire night before to try and do something and he didn't…

"Like a date?" she asked, sticking her chin up in the air. He just smiled under the critical stare.

"That was the idea but if you don't like that, then it's just a thank you for doing such a good job," he said, shifting so the cloak closed around him.

"You're buying," she said, stepping out the door.

She started to walk down the street, not waiting for him but knowing that he'd follow anyway. Of course he did, and fell into step with her easily. It didn't matter how much she sped up and slowed down, he managed to stay right by her side the entire time. Somehow, even though she felt like she was leading them, he drew her into a tavern that she didn't even know existed. A little hole in the wall that had few people and a wonderful ambiance. He led her to a back corner booth and she could instantly see why. From there, sitting adjacent instead of across, they could both see the entire room, front and back doors, and couldn't be snuck up on.

"What a wonderful tactical instinct you have," she said with a small chuckle as she sat at his right side.

"Noticed that, did you?" he asked, amused. He waved over a bar maid and ordered drinks.

"My brother was a solider. He taught me a lot," she said with a small nod. She looked him up and down, from his tattoos to puffy shirt and vest, to those pants that hugged every curve just right. "So I've never seen a gypsy with facial tattoos on Regatha before."

The maid had just returned with two pints of ale and he'd taken a sip when she said that. He damn near choked. "'On Regatha'?" he asked, a nervous chuckle on his lips. "You say that like there's somewhere else I can be from. That's impossible. Improbable. Complete fantasy."

When he looked at her and saw that knowing smiling on her face he knew he was found out. She took a satisfied sip of her ale and said, "Ya know, most people don't pick up on that bit. For them, that plane is the only plane they know or care about. Planeswalkers," he perked up at that bit "on the other hand, only hear that last part. They're the only ones to defend it."

That impressed him, and it was written clearly on his face. "I should take a lesson or two from you in deception."

"It's not deception," she said, only partially offended. "The parts of a sentence people focus on tells you a lot about them. So where are you from?"

He shook his head, picked up his mug, and drained it in one go. "Vryn."

"Kaladesh." His eyebrows shot up into his hairline with that. The smug look on her face, the self-satisfaction that came with his reaction. He cursed himself for not figuring it out sooner. No one on Regatha looked like her! "I've never heard of Vryn. What's it like?"

"Backwater," was the only word he could think of. "Boring. Kaladesh, on the other hand… I've been there. I-I've never seen anything like it before… Anywhere! It's gorgeous."

"That's one word for it," she said bitterly. Her entire face squished up like she just sucked on a bad lemon.

"So what brought you here?" he asked, eager to change the subject. She didn't seem like the kind of person you want ticked off. "Why Regatha?"

"There's a monastery in the mountains I hope to train at," she said, her face going kind of blank.

"Keral Keep?" he asked, his eyebrows disappearing again. "The place for pyromancers?"

"The same. Are you shocked?"

This time it was him giving her a good once over. "I shouldn't be."

"Disgusted then?" she asked, that sour look coming back to her face. "Repulsed? Scared?"

The descriptors that she used frightened him more than her magic. He'd been taught from a young age that all magic was sacred, something to be revered and treasured. And from their short time together he could tell that she was as precious as the magic he so loved. So why would she speak of herself that way?

"I don't think there's a single thing in all the multiverse you could do that would make me disgusted or repulsed by you." He found that his words were, surprisingly, honest. He wasn't sure what it was about this woman, perhaps her fire was burning away whatever lies he could think of. He tried to pry into her mind but was met with a wall of heat that almost knocked him off his chair. When he looked into her eyes, they were glowing with a fire so intense that he almost blinked himself out of existence.

"Mind magic?" she asked, her eyes squinting up with distrust. "That's what you do? You invade people's minds?"

"I've never heard it put quite that way before…" he said sheepishly. "I'm sorry. Whenever I can't figure a person out, I read their thoughts. It's a bad habit. But I've been doing it since I was a baby. At least that's what…" His brows furrowed up, and he looked straight down at the ground. She watched him, curious, as he started to pick at his left thumb. "My master always told me I'd get in trouble one day with that…"

"Just don't do it again, okay? I value my freedom, that includes my mind." All he could do was nod vigorously. "Now how about some food? I'm starving."

With another nod and a chuckle, Jace was heading towards the bar. Chandra had to curse that damn cloak, it robbed her of the best view. She took a few steadying breaths and closed her eyes. Mind mages, her mortal enemy. Yet here she was, kind of considering getting involved with one. She wondered if she should just leave it here, one dinner as a thanks and then never see him again. She'd nearly saved enough for passage to the monastery, maybe she should just go and skimp out on a few things. Start early with the whole chastity thing and avoid the temptation of a handsome man that was very obviously trying to seduce her.

So lost in her thoughts was she that she didn't notice the already drunken creep coming up to her until he was an inch from her face. She fought down the reaction to punch him in his crooked nose and instead jumped back. Or at least she tried do as she had already put herself in the corner of the booth and found she had nowhere to go.

"Hey there pretty lady," the creep slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol so badly she almost barfed. "You're looking lonely. Mind if I join you?"

"I do mind actually," she hissed, racking her brain for any solution, any lie. "I'm here with my boyfriend and he's going to be pretty pissed when he sees you." Her eyes darted towards the bar, but she couldn't see even the smallest speck of Jace's blue cloak anywhere. Damn him!

"I don't see nobody. And you're still lookin' lonely. So why don't you and I go have a little fun somehweres, huh?" he asked, a lusty grin coming to his face and his raked his eyes over her, licking his lips. She felt violated, and started to summon her inner fire to deal with this moron. Small flames licked at her hair just as the darkness left his eyes and was replaced with… Well she couldn't quite place what it was, but something reminded her of the glossy eyes of a marionette. He backed away and said to her softly, "Gee I'm awful sorry, miss. I don't know what came over me. I know my mamma done taught me better than to speak to a lady that way."

"I'm sure she did…" Chandra cast her eyes around the bar again. She did find Jace this time, at the other end of the bar, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared right at the creep. She smiled slightly and mouthed a 'thank you' to him. "Now would you please leave me be?"

"Right away, miss. And again, awful sorry." He gave her a small nod and mimed tipping his hat before he vacated the booth and left the bar. Jace returned to her side a moment later with what smelled like a mincemeat pie.

"Okay I'll admit, that was pretty cool," she said with a chuckle as she cut herself a slice.

"What?" he asked, playing innocent. "Bringing pie is cool?"

"No, what you did with that guy. Thanks."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

He looked smug, and she was grateful. She wiped away a small bead of sweat that had formed on his temple and took a drink. Maybe mind mages weren't so bad. Or perhaps it was just him.

They saw a lot of each other over the next few days and almost always in the same pattern. He'd meet her at the shop with coffee and a pastry, hang out for an hour, and then pick her up in the evening to grab some food before parting ways.

Chandra was enjoying herself more than she'd like to admit. He was handsome and funny, and she found herself locked in a battle of wits with him more than once. She kept trying to fool herself into thinking this all just a nice distraction. This was her, pretending to be a normal woman just seeing a guy and that they weren't both incredible powerful supernatural beings. Most everywhere she went, men were either running in terror or trying to violate her. It was nice, for once, to have someone who seemed genuine. However, despite her best efforts to convincer herself otherwise, she knew it wasn't going to last; she was going to the monastery soon and he'd likely move on to another plane to do… whatever it was he did. It pained her to think that she couldn't get in too deep…

One night there was a festival, celebrating the founding of Zinara and the Order of Heliud. Chandra didn't care much for the order, or their ideals, or anything having to do with them really. They were already starting to extend their reach outside the city and she found it repulsive. She didn't even really want to go out with Jace that night, just head straight home and avoid all the festivities. The shop owner even offered to let her leave early to get away from it all. It seemed, however, that a certain mind mage had other plans.

Jace showed up early, right as she was about to leave, and swept her away. This made Chandra particularly pissed, as no matter what she said about not wanting to celebrate, the damn fool just didn't listen. He led her out into the main square where a giant bonfire was being built.

"They're going to bring out a small piece of the Purifying Fire to light this," he explained, his eyes filled with fascination and wonder. "I wonder if it really burns white like they say…"

"Don't know, don't care," she grumbled, trying to turn away from it. Jace just grabbed her and turned her back around. "Will you stop?! I don't want to be here, I don't want to have anything to do with this, I just want to go home!" Her rant caught the attention of several workers nearby. One older woman walking past dawdled a little bit, as if to catch more of what they were saying. Chandra turned her burning eyes on the woman. "What do you want, you nosy old cow?!" She squeaked in fear and ran off.

"I thought this was something you'd like to see, that's all…" Jace said sheepishly. "I mean its fire and you're a pyromancer… Also I'm really curious."

"Then be curious without me."

Her tone signaled the end of the conversation and she stormed off without a backwards glace. The rage she felt was so palpable that the people on the streets parted for her. When she got back to her apartment, she slammed the door shut, threw her bag, flipped the coffee table, and collapsed on the couch face down to scream into a pillow. She screamed until she was exhausted, then got up for a glass of water. As she did, she looked out the kitchen window that had a decent view of the square. It was dark by now, and the bonfire was lit. It wasn't white, or magical in any way (she could feel it from there) it was just a normal fire. She could just see the disappointed look on Jace's face and she smiled smugly. Served him right… Now she felt bad. She's stormed off and left him there like it was his fault she hated the Order. She looked up at the moon again.

"Don't give me that," she muttered to it. "He should have asked first." Silence greeted her like an old friend. She sighed heavily. "I know you're right, you're always right, now shut up." She grabbed her bag again and ran out the door.

It turns out that Jace didn't move much in the hour or two that she had been gone. He'd just sat down at one of the outdoor tables and started drinking. That's how she found him, hunched across a table with an empty mug next to him. She chuckled a little. Men are so dramatic. The ale was flowing freely that night, so she grabbed a pint from a passing bar maid, drained it, and grabbed another before she sat down next to him.

"This is boring," she said, making him jolt upright. She looked in his eyes and saw he wasn't drunk at all. Just miserable. "See? Look at your face. You're having a terrible time. I told you."

"Do you want to dance?" he asked bluntly, making her almost choke on her ale. "It would improve this terrible experience significantly. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Famous last words, those," she said with a chuckle. She drained her ale and got up, feeling her head just starting to swim. "But you see I have two left feet and terrible stage fright, so if you want me to dance, I'm going to need some shots first."

With a look that said 'my thoughts exactly', they went inside the bar. One or two shots suddenly turned into a game, and who knows how many shots later they were back outside. It seemed by that point that everyone was at some level of intoxication, so the dancing around the bonfire was less dancing and more flailing.

That was, of course, until Chandra got up there. Jace watched in awe as she spun and swung with the music. Two left feet my ass, he had thought at one point. That wasn't the dancing of a novice, she was trained. Trained for some time, it looked like, as even drunk and working off muscle memory it still showed the effortless skill of a proficient dancer. He wondered for a moment if there was nothing this woman couldn't do.

Of course when dancing with drunkards, it's all fun and games until someone gets knocked over (or in this case, knocked out). Some drunken rat had tried to grab Chandra while she was dancing. Her fiery punch to his face looked more like a gut reaction than something thought out. The grab threw her off balance, and she didn't have her best footing when she spun to punch him. Even though she managed to knock him to the ground, she was falling over too. Thankfully Jace was right there to catch her. With speed (and a little magic) he managed to hook her arm around her waist and caught her just a foot from the ground.

Time stood still. He held her there for a moment and watched the light of the fire play in her eyes and her hair. Having her so close was intoxicating. He could smell her shampoo (eucalyptus, subtle, yet powerful too) and feel her breath on his cheek. His brain was short circuiting as it tended to do around beautiful women. The rational part of his brain that would normally tell him to stop wasn't working when he leaned down and kissed her.

There were no fireworks. No 'spark'. He didn't feel his lust and passion rising. Just peace. A calm, cooling sensation that contrasted sharply with the heat of the fire. Her arms wound around his neck and now he could feel the heat of her inner fire. It didn't burn as he expected, but it was a warmth of comfort that pulled him in and wrapped him up like a blanket. That was something he could get used to.

All too soon, she pulled away, and it left him longing. Though perhaps it wasn't 'soon' as he felt himself gasping for air. He'd forgotten to breathe, and it seemed she had too. He pulled her back up onto her feet and a jolt of pain went through her body. He grabbed her before she could collapse.

"I think I twisted my ankle," she muttered, picking up her leg to rub at said ankle. "Or sprained it. Or whatever…"

"Let me take you home then," he offered. As soon as the words left his mouth he heard the implied meaning. "I mean just to rest! … Your ankle! You don't want to walk on that. Or dance. Or anything really. Just… rest."

Despite herself, she felt a chuckle rise in her throat. "I know what you meant. My apartment's just a couple of blocks away."

"Oh so NOW you're going to let me see where you live?" he teased, letting her lean on him as they walked.

"So long as you promise to behave," she said with a smile.

As they walked, the effects of their drinking caught up with them. Surrounded by people and music, it was easy to forget you were wasted. Now, though? Trying to walk turned more into stumbling and trying not to fall over. It was good she didn't live far away, because by the time they got through her door, they were falling on their faces. She shoved him onto the couch and limped over to a linen closet, where she pulled out an extra pillow and a blanket.

Upon returning to the couch, her pulled her on top of him and kissed her again. This time they did feel lust and passion and they started heavily making out. Though it didn't really go much farther than kissing and touching. Without talking they had both decided sex while drunk was probably a bad idea. But oh did he want to. He wanted to throw her down and fell every inch of her. Suddenly he jolted and pulled away from her, staring deep into those emerald eyes.

"You're a dangerous woman to fall in love with," he muttered softly. It wasn't a judgement, just a statement.

"Are you falling in love with me?" She asked with a satisfied smirk.

"I just might be."

The festival of the Guildpact was an event Jace dreaded every year. But more than that was this massive state ball that he HAD to hold and invite ALL the people he absolutely hated just to watch them kiss ass and grovel. Besides that, he had to wear this uncomfortable tux and a cravat, and his sleeves were buttoned just too damn tight fucking cufflinks.

"Quite the turn out this year." Jace pulled himself from his musings (and messing with his cufflinks) to see Gideon standing not too far away, looking just as uncomfortable in a tux that was far too small. "Are there new faces?"

"Nah, same suspects as last year," Jace muttered, pulling at the links one last time. "For the most part."

Jace cast his eyes to the back corner, behind the stairs, and saw his apprentice doing his best impersonation of a shadow. The poor boy. He'd yet to learn how to block out thoughts properly without his cloak, so an event that had over 100 people in one room must have been torture for him. Even Jace had put more effort than usual into his blocking spell. Their eyes met and Zane started darting from shadow to shadow to get to his master at the front of the room.

Gideon always marveled at Jace's stupidity, but no time more so then when master and student stood next to each other. Zane was Jace's clone, albeit younger looking, sans tattoos and adding eyeliner and a much grumpier expression. How was it that Jace was the only one who couldn't see it?

"Will your mother be joining us tonight?" Jace asked with an arched brow.

"No, she's going to sit at home in her onsie eating bonbons and watching soap operas," came the terse reply. Zane was glaring at Jace, maybe because he was forced to come tonight, more likely because he hated stupid questions more than his master.

"Don't take that tone of voice with me," Jace snapped, making both Zane and Gideon gawk at him. Did he realize he used a 'dad' voice? Zane heard it and all but snarled.

"You're not my father," the boy snapped back, his eyes narrowing. Hardly intimidating since they all knew he was blind, "you don't get to talk to me like you are."

"No, I'm much worse. I'm your master." Zane snarled again at that. Jace just stared at him blankly, like he was still waiting for a proper answer to his question.

"They had some trouble with her hair, she's going to be late," Zane finally said after a tense minute. Jace just nodded his thanks and the boy disappeared into the shadows again.

"He's probably older than all of us and still acts like a moody teenager," Jace sighed, turning to Gideon with a shrug. "The gods cursed me. They gave me an apprentice just like me."

Oh how Gideon had to bite his tongue. "I don't think he's older than you," he managed to say, and had to stop himself from saying more.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty darned." Gideon walked away before he could say more. Chandra had entrusted him with her secrete and he'd be damned if he spilled the beans. He'd been on the receiving end of her rage more times that he wanted, and knew better than the end up there again. He made it to the stairs when the porter stepped up to the top.

"Her Excellency, the High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Oracle, Lady Chandra Nalaar."

The porter banged the staff twice on the marble floor and stepped aside from the door. Chandra walked in the room and one could cut the tension with a knife. Jace looked down in shame for a moment. The title she now bore was one she had avoided for centuries. It was passed down in her family from mother to daughter (or in her case, grandmother to granddaughter) and it was one she wanted nothing to do with. She had confessed to him once that she would have a daughter with anyone just to pass the title on before she had to wield it. But when he was trapped on Ixalan, she had acquiesced to the position to use the resources to make sure he was okay. His situation had pushed her into something she hated. Though to see her now one wouldn't know it. She looked quite smug as she descended those steps.

The very first time she'd attended an event of high society as the Priestess, her outfit made everyone feel criminally underdressed. As such, the fashion of the ladies had adapted to model her, long sleeve, high neck lines, tight dresses, hair up in elaborate braids and curls. Despite everyone's best efforts, she still managed to outshine them all. That night's regalia was no different, though her style certainly was. This time she was in a ball gown of red tulle that had no sleeves to speak of and a neckline that left little to the imagination. As usual, her dress was so beaded that it sparkled and shone with every step. Diamonds and rubies adorned her ears, throat, and wrists. Her hair was down that night, held in place by a simple golden circlet (instead of the usual ribbon) and small pins that kept it off her face. Jace felt his breath rush out of his chest as their eyes met across the hall and she smiled at him. She certainly was the most beautiful woman in the room that night.

Gideon received her at the bottom of the stairs. Jace wished it could be him, but that would be inappropriate; he was the host after all. Gideon at least was a knight of the same Order sworn to protect the Sisters. He led her over to him, as customary, and she inclined her head.

"Quite the party, My Lord," she said with a sly smile.

"Always a pleasure to have you, My Lady." They both found their titles hilarious, and it showed as he kissed the back of her hand. "You've upset all the ladies again."

"That was my goal," she said with visible delight. "You gotta shake things up every now and again. Keeps them on their toes."

"Things certainly aren't boring when you're around," he said with a chuckle. "Perhaps, Excellency, you'd honor me with the first waltz?"

Everything in Chandra was telling her to run. To reject the offer, turn him down, just don't do this again you moron "It would be my honor." DAMN IT "Can't refuse the host, now can I?" FUCK

Dinner moved swiftly, and before Chandra knew it, Jace was leading her onto the dance floor for the first waltz.

"Why does it seem like every time we dance something goes horribly wrong?" he asked with mirth. He was referring, of course, to the first time they danced at one of these events. Not ten minutes after their dance had ended, a currier had come running to Chandra to inform her that Zane was in an asylum facing death. Getting him out was quite an affair. It was also the first time most of Gatewatch (with Liliana as the one notable exception) knew of any child of Chandra's.

"Well let's hope that doesn't happen this time," she said, a smile on her lips that didn't quite meet her eyes. Her memory cast back quite a bit farther. To the very first time, in front of a bonfire, and a kiss that ruined her entire life. Jace nudged her a little and she looked up to see concern on his face. Concern, then recognition.

"I know that look," he muttered, casting his eyes over her sad face. "You're thinking about him." They both knew who him was. "Do you still love him? Is that why you always look so sad whenever you think of him?"

"I suppose, in a way…" Oh this was a script she had memorized ages ago. "Do you ever really stop loving your first love? The father of my child? Besides, we never really got to say goodbye after all. Something in my heart keeps saying 'don't worry, he'll come back… you'll live happily ever after'…" She felt that pang in her chest again, and when she looked into his eyes the pain doubled. "But I know that will never happen. So yes, I am sad when I think of him."

They spun around the room again and Jace pondered over what she had said. There were so many things that were coming to mind, things that could ease her or comfort her, but what ended up coming out of his mouth was, "You seem like a dangerous woman to fall in love with." The way her head shot up and the look of shock on her face told him that the statement needed some clarification. "Well your first husband died, Gideon turned gay, you ignited Ma'Ren's Spark…" Every time you smile at me I forget to breathe and your laugh makes my heart skip…

"He wasn't my husband," she said firmly. "We never got married. He… died before we got the chance."

"Oh I'm sorry I just…" He turned her hand, and looked at the simple obsidian band that sat on her ring finger. "I assumed that was a wedding band."

"Well you're wrong." The music faded to an end and she pulled herself away from him as quickly as she could. She gave a short nod and began to gather up her skirts. "Wouldn't be the first time." With that, she stormed off, leaving Jace alone and confused on the dance floor.

Jace found her later in her room, fighting with the bejeweled pins in her hair. She'd already taken her dress off and was sitting at her vanity in a red silk robe. He knocked on the doorframe and she huffed. She could see him in the mirror. He'd undressed as much as was decent the instant he got home, so he stood in her doorway in his trousers and his shirt half unbuttoned (and sleeves torn because he ripped the cufflinks off). He watched her eyes dance over him and wondered for a moment if it was with lust or if she was looking for a weak spot. Knowing her, it was the latter.

"What?" she hissed, yanking at another pin. He walked over and pushed her hand away, gingerly untangling it and handing it to her. She deflated a little as she asked, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," he said softly, going for the next pin. "I know he's a sensitive subject. You don't say much about him and I just assumed things. So I'm sorry."

"I do talk about him, just not to you." The way she said it make it sound like he wasn't supposed to hear it. One of those thoughts that you accidentally speak out loud. She realized it too as soon as the words left her mouth. She just groaned. He pulled another pin out.

"How did he die?" Jace asked the question slowly, watching her face in the mirror for any indication that he overstepped his bounds. She looked sad again and sighed heavily.

"Military duty." The lie slipped easily from her lips. It was one she'd been telling for years, so much so that sometimes it felt like the truth. She looked in his eyes through the mirror and in that moment felt like it was the truth. Zane's father was dead. "He was conscripted just after I found out I was pregnant. He wasn't even supposed to see battle but…"

"You don't have to continue," he said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder as he handed her the last pin. He picked up the brush and started to carefully brush out the knots in her hair. He realized then just how long her hair had gotten, it was almost to her waist. Didn't she just have shoulder length hair? Did he really pay that little attention to her? He marveled at how soft it was.

"It's nice to bring up his memory every once in a while," she said wistfully, like her mind wasn't all there. "You know on Theros they have this idea… When you die your soul goes to this underworld where it just kind sits there, right? And as soon as you're forgotten about, your soul disappears forever. But so long as you're remembered, even if just by one person, your soul survives."

"It must be something, then, to be remembered by an immortal," Jace mused. "How long were you together?"

"Six amazing months," she said, that sad smile coming back to her face. She seemed far off in her memories, and Jace cursed that he couldn't read her mind. He'd love to be able to see those memories. He finished brushing her hair and gave it back to her. She looked startled when the brush was shoved under her nose, like she hadn't at all noticed what he was doing. "You brushed my hair?" She looked down at her vanity and saw all the jeweled pins there and scoffed in surprise. "Man I am so out of it tonight. Why did you brush my hair?"

"I thought that was something girls liked," he said with a shrug, sinking heavily into an arm chair a few feet away. "And Liliana always liked it when I brushed her hair. So I figured you would too. Was I wrong?"

"No, it was nice," she said with a soft smile. She ran her fingers through her hair, half to inspect, and half nervous. "Not bad. I should make you my official hair brusher."

"Not on your life."

She chuckled and smiled at him again, and he couldn't help but smile back. His heart was pounding and there was just one thought in his head.

I'm in trouble.

Jace woke up the next morning with a terrible headache and a dry mouth, but feeling kind of warm and fuzzy. When his brain finally returned to the head, he found he was still on the couch and Chandra was sleeping soundly on his chest. So he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close and closed his eyes again. He realized then just how small she was. She was shorter than him by a bit, and her waist was so small he could almost wrap his arms around her twice. He could tell she was strong, even sleeping her muscle definition was clear beneath soft skin. He'd wanted to feel so much more of that soft skin last night. But alas, it was not to be. Besides, drunk sex is never any good or memorable. He wanted his first time with her to be something to remember.

Oh there he goes again, thinking that he's actually going to pursue a future with this woman. It was an insane thought. He was going to finish his work on this plane, make as much gold as he could, and move on again. But then he looked at her sleeping face and he sighed. He could see a future with her. It was nice. A wife, children, one steady home that he could always return to…

"Morning." It came more as a grunt than anything else. She grumbled and wiggled a little, then looked up at him through bleary, still sleepy eyes. She blinked only once before closing her eyes again and nuzzling her face into his chest. Even though she'd slept on the couch, she felt more rested than she had in months. He was warm, and his arms around her made her feel safe and secure. After all, she'd felt the distinct hum of magic around them all night, meaning he'd cast something to protect them.

"Morning sleepyhead," he muttered back. He craned his head back and started glaring at the curtains. Before he could fully form the spell, they flew shut… and then they went flying across the room, rod and all. They both jolted up to see where it landed and then collapsed in a fit of giggles. "Okay, okay, telekinesis, not my forte. Won't happen again."

"Stop destroying my house!" she barked through her laughter. That laugh filled him with a joy he never thought he could feel. So elated was he that when he kissed her, he attempted to roll them over. Of course he forgot they were on the couch, and so ended up sending both of them to the floor, resulting in more laughter. "Oh my god, you're a calamity!"

"Are you okay?" he asked, running a hand over the back of her head. "I'm sorry."

"I'm fine! Now get off me! I can't breathe!"

The next week went on much the same as they usually did, this time with the added benefit of a kiss on each greeting and goodbye. Chandra was running on cloud nine. Everyone could see it, and several of her coworkers were scared by it. Everyone at the shop knew how to deal with an angry Chandra; no one quite knew what to do with an elated one.

There were a couple of points, in the middle of the night, when Chandra would awake with a sense of dread hanging over her. Those were the nights when Jace came over. She would look up at him, still sleeping, and feel the weight of the world on her chest. Her brain would tell her to run and her heart would tell her not to move an inch. One night she thought her heard the moon screeching at her, but it was just her imagination. Oh how she wished her grandmother was still alive to tell her what to do…

One day she went to work as usual, and waited. And waited. And waited. Jace never arrived with his customary coffee and pastry. At the end of the day, he wasn't waiting outside the shop to walk her home. He wasn't in their usual tavern. He wasn't even waiting for her back at her apartment. As she made herself a sparse dinner, she felt empty inside. She cursed herself for getting so attached. He was a gypsy after all, he had probably done what gypsies always do and had just packed up and left. She was hurt that he hadn't said goodbye though. Chandra had thought that after all of this, she's at least warrant a note, if nothing else. Then again, they'd only known each other for a little over a month. Perhaps that wasn't enough?

She could barely eat; her stomach was all in knots. So she went to bed early that night. As she laid there, she fiddled with the necklace her grandmother had given her. A simple silver crescent moon, but a family heirloom nonetheless. She sent a small prayer up to the goddess that Jace would come back to her, rolled over, and managed to drift off into a fitful sleep.

It was good that she hadn't slept well that night. Usually she sleeps like the dead, but she was tossing and turning so much that the slightest things were waking her. The dog of the floor above as he plodded around during the night, the faint call of a nightingale in the distance, drunken merrymakers in the streets, and finally a person climbing in through her living room window and crashing onto the floor. She was out of bed in an instant, hair and hands ignited and ready to defend her home. As she ran into the living room, she saw Jace in a heap below the window in a growing pool of blood.

Ice ran through her veins. She doused her fires and ran to his side, rolling him onto his back to inspect the damage. He had a nasty gash on his side, probably from getting slashed with a sword. Her brother taught her just one way to deal with wounds like this. With a quick "This is gonna hurt", she brought fire to her hands again and cauterized the wound. For his part, at least, he didn't scream. Just a small whimper and strained breathing. It seemed to her that he'd had quite a bit of practice internalizing pain.

There weren't many words exchanged as she helped him to his feet and onto the couch. She was grateful her grandmother insisted she at least take part in some her medical training, as it was coming in handy to clean, stitch, and dress the wound. Jace stayed blessedly silent through the whole thing, and for that Chandra was grateful. If he'd started talking, she couldn't be sure that she wouldn't start yelling. It was all she could do at the moment not to chastise him for being so careless. He'd live, of that she was sure. But what about next time? Or the time after that? How long would his luck hold out?

"It'll scar," she muttered as she tied off his bandages.

"Yay first battle wound," he cheered weakly, sarcasm dripping off every word. He gave her a tired smile, and his eyes went wide with wonder. He tried to lean over towards her, but she pushed him back against the couch. "You look like an angel."

"I'm gonna look like an angel of death if you rip those stitches open," she said very matter-of-factly. It didn't diminish the awe in his eyes.

"You're glowing," he muttered, pushing a strand of hair out of her face and twisting it around his fingers. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"And you're in shock." She couldn't help but chuckle a little. Then she turned somber and took his hand, a steadying breath, and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You lost a lot of blood, Jace. What were you thinking? What were you doing? You could have died!"

"Would you miss me?" His tone shocked her a bit. He sounded so desperate, like his life hung on her answer. The way he looked at her, like she was so important to him…

"Of course I would," she said with a sigh. He closed his eyes with a satisfied smile and put his head back. "So many people I love have died on me… I don't think I could handle it if you did too. Damn you for worming your way into my heart and making me fall in love with you. So whatever you were doing, you better promise me not to do it again! … Jace?"

She gave him a small shake when he didn't answer and had to giggle. He'd fallen asleep, probably the second he closed his eyes. It was just as well, she supposed. She managed to get him to lay on the couch and threw a blanket over him. Rest was what he needed and she'd make damn sure he got nothing but. After all, with a wound that bad he wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Paperwork was the bane of his existence. It was days like this, when the stacks were so high he couldn't see over them, he wished he was a pyromancer. That way he could make them all spontaneously combust and feign innocence. After all, how many times had Chandra accidentally set something on fire? Just in the time he'd known her he'd need all of his fingers and toes and still run out of room to count.

He could have sworn the piles are getting bigger, not smaller. An image flashed through his head of him sweeping everything off his desk and running off. It was tempting. He yawned. When was the last time he got a proper night's sleep? He set his quill down to rub his eyes, considering briefly putting his head down and taking a nap. He'd just need five minutes…

"You look like hell." He picked his head up and was momentarily shocked to see Chandra standing beside his desk. She looked concerned, and not a little annoyed. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not a wink," he admitted, gesturing to the stacks. "I was busy."

"Are you still busy? Or do you have time for a lunch break?" She set a canvas bag down on the papers in front of him. There was the most delicious smell coming from it, and he suddenly remembered that he hadn't eaten yet that day. Or yesterday. Or the day before. "And by that I mean you are going to take a break and eat even if I have to shove this down your throat."

She gave him a small smile and he had to chuckle as he unpacked the bag. There was a container with fruit salad and a small thing of yogurt right on the top, and another container full of still warm noodles. That was what he was smelling. He started picking around it with the fork in the bag and scowled. "There's broccoli in here."

"You're iron deficient," came the simple reply. "You're going to become anemic at this rate."

Jace just gave her a look. He wanted to protest, but the smell of food was calling to him. He took a bite. It was delicious. He had to think for a moment that she was mothering him just like she did Zane. Perhaps it was instinct. He was rather like a child, completely inept at taking care of himself, and he would freely admit it.

When he thought about it, she mothered all of them to some extent; and with two distinct 'mom voices'. There was the voice she used with Zane, that of a mature mother with her adult child. The mother who is old friends with Patients and Understanding. The voice she used on the rest of them? Jace felt that 'frustrated 20-something with a screaming toddler' was an apt description. The young mother who has lost her patients and has no time for anyone's shit. She would berate Gideon when he worked out too hard and hurt himself while she tended his injuries. Once, when Liliana was sick and refusing to do anything to help herself, Jace witnessed Chandra shame her to no end and then tuck her into bed and give her medicine. Jace has been on the receiving end of that voice for not eating or sleeping. Even Sorin has been put in 'time out'. The only one to escape That Voice has been Nissa, but Jace felt it was only a matter of time on that count.

He must have been hungrier than he thought, because everything was gone before he could blink. He leaned back in his chair, content, and smiled at Chandra who was still standing there.

"Thank you," he muttered, closing his eyes. Boy he was tired. He could still smell lingering smell of the noodles and it made his stomach growl loudly. "Damn it."

"Still hungry, eh?" Her voice was amused, and Jace couldn't tell if it was from his suffering or not. His eyes were still closed, but they shot open when he felt her straddle his lap. Her arms snaked around his neck and she leaned in close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek. His heart started racing, he could hear it pounding in his ears. She ground their hips together for just a second and a jolt of pleasure ran through his entire body. "How about a little dessert?"

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. For some reason he expected a gentle kiss. But this was hot, open-mouthed and wet. Their tongues danced and he wasn't sure which of them was moaning. Probably both. He felt her hands grab his and guide them to rest on her thighs, and then up under her skirt. Her skin was soft, softer than he'd imagined it, but when he squeezed her thighs he felt nothing but pure muscle. His hands snuck up a little farther. Now he knew that she usual wore shorts under her skirt, just something to keep her a bit modest as she jumped around a battle field. He didn't feel them, and he didn't feel her panties either. Oh boy.

In that moment he praised whatever gods there were that his telekinesis was on point that day. He shifted all of the piles of papers off his desk (without a single stack falling over, thank you) and stood up with her firmly in his arms. With a gentleness that belayed how eager he was he laid her down on the now cleared desk and attacked her neck with kisses. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she let out a guttural moan. He bit down. She almost screamed. It was then that Jace decided a Silence spell might be a good idea.

Are you going to kiss me all day or are we going to fuck? He heard her voice in his head and wondered briefly when he had connected them. Perhaps it was just habit. After all, he couldn't hear her voice with the spell in effect.

My Lady, your wish is my command, he thought back, giving her a sly smile. Gosh where was this confidence coming from, he wondered. Jace figured he was just leaching off some of hers. Or perhaps because she was on her back on his desk, in his office, almost begging him-

Jace had realized long ago that bodily autopilot was a thing and that he did it often. Most of the time it was to keep a semblance that he was fully conscious when work had him almost sleeping at his desk. This time, however, he was pulled from his autopilot when he felt himself pushing into her. She was warm and wet, and he couldn't stop himself from just slamming in. Her reaction made him glad he cast Silence. She had arched right into him, head thrown back, and she was probably screaming. Every thrust sent golden waves of pleasure through his body and he felt like he was losing control. If she didn't have her armor on (why did she have armor on?) his grip would be bruising her hips.

It seemed, however, that Chandra didn't like not being in control for too long. She lifted herself up so they were face to face again, but it made Jace loose his balance a bit. He fell heavily back into his chair and somehow they were still connected. Gravity made him sink farther into her and he thought in that moment the feeling might make him pass out. Then she started riding him and the blinding pleasure doubled. She kissed him again, this time more of clashing teeth and tongues then kisses, and he felt himself coming towards his peak…

"GUILDPACT."

Jace jolted forward, his eyes flying open at the sound of Lavinia's voice. He looked around and realized in that instant that almost everything had been a dream. Chandra was there, sitting on the other side of his desk, feet up, playing with the Rubix cube he kept handy. There was a canvas bag filling the room with a tantalizing sent, but it had just been dropped there and not touched, or it was repacked. Lavinia stood in the doorway, looking as if she just ran up there in a panic. And there Jace sat, keenly aware of how tight his pants were. Chandra looked up at him when his eyes landed on her and she chuckled.

"I don't know if he'll be any use to you, Captain," she said amused. "He's just returned to the land of the living."

"Then perhaps you can help, Excellency," she said, shooting Jace a worried look. "There are representatives of the Boros and the Orzhov downstairs. There's been another massive squabble over the Utvara Reclamation."

"That is not my job," she said with an air of finality as she clicked the cube a few more times.

"You're the only one other than him that they'll respect," Lavinia continued, almost pleading this time. "At least keep them busy until he can come down."

"I'm right here, ya know," Jace muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands. When he looked up again, Chandra was staring at him concerned.

"Tell them I'll be right down," she said, her eyes not leaving his face. Lavinia nodded and left.

Chandra was up in a second. Jace momentarily panicked as she came around his desk towards him, his dream flashing in his mind. But she didn't sit on him. Instead, she took his head gently in her hands and pressed her cheek to his forehead. He tensed, and she frowned.

"What are you doing?" he asked slowly, focusing very much on keeping his breathing even and his eyes down.

"This is the most color I've seen on your face in weeks," came the soft reply. "I'm just checking to see if you have a fever."

So he was flushed. After a dream like that how could he not be? "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple hours. Don't worry, the food's still warm." She pulled away and ruffled his hair with a smile. "99. You should eat some of it before coming down. You know how those guys are."

All he could do was nod. She gave him another smile before heading out the door. He groaned and leaned back in his chair, squeezing his eyes shut. Now he was exhausted AND horny. Lovely. The smell of the food was still tantalizing his senses, so he pulled the bag close and peered inside. Another part of the dream that was real, fruit, yogurt and noodles. He opened the fruit and picked at it, wondering again at what point he'd actually fallen asleep. Frustrated for more reasons than one, he popped a piece of watermelon in his mouth and left the office.

The argument could be hear from the floor above. That was quite a feat, as the audience chamber had been soundproofed for just that reason. Jace could only imagine how Chandra was fairing and picked up the pace, lest he be left with charred corpses instead of delegates.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

Uh-oh, there it was, "frustrated 20-something with a toddler". Jace opened the doors to the chamber and had to hold back a laugh. More like 2 dozen toddlers. There had been a dais built for him, so that he could stand above the squabblers and give more of an air of authority. Chandra didn't need that, and always meet these people on the same level, face to face. So there she was, being dwarfed by the soldiers and vampires; but with flames licking at her hair and glowing eyes he could only imagine how small they felt.

"If you insist on acting like children I'm going to treat you like children!" she growled out, making the peons take a step back, leaving their commanders to face the fire. She pointed to both of them, and then opposite corners of the room and they flinched. "YOU, that corner, YOU that corner. Face the wall and don't even THINK about turning around until I say so!"

The Boros captain did what he was told without hesitation, head down, and if he had a tail it would be between his legs. The Orhzov vampire, however, was not so thrilled. He stepped up to her, towering over her by at least a foot, and bared his fangs. She was visibly unimpressed, and just arched and eyebrow at him. He seemed to have lost some gusto at that, and his shoulders slumped a little

"Are you trying to put us in time out?" he asked, half angered, half confused.

"Until you learn to behave like adults, yes," she said with a grin. "Corner. NOW."

The force of her voice made the vamp jolt and he slinked off to his assigned corner. When Chandra turned back to the rest of the men, they took another step back, leaving the seconds in command alone to face her wrath. Silence descended. The harsh look on her face softened, her posture relaxed, and everyone let out the breath they were holding.

"Now," she said, taking the Mature Mother voice, "why don't you explain what happened?"

Jace watched her arbitrate, and decided that he didn't need to step in yet. After all, she'd handled things well enough while he was on Ixalan and no one died, so why should that change now? He couldn't help but marvel at how well she took command of the room, nor could he figure out how she did it. After all, she left all the planning for Gatewatch up to him and Gideon. Jace was in awe, and the next time she raised her voice he became acutely aware of the… issue in his trousers that had yet to go away. Thankfully he kept his cloak closed and he could only think one thing.

Damn that is hot.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and before Chandra knew it nearly six months had passed since she first met Jace. She mused over it while she walked to work that day, wondering if she should plan something special. Jace was gone another one of his excursions and had let her know that he'd be gone a few days. If he didn't come back in a coffin, Chandra figured she could cook something special.

She stopped in the middle of the street and wrapped an arm around her stomach. It'd been aching all morning, so much so to the point that she'd thrown up before she left. She assumed it was just stress and ignored it, but now the pain was too much. Had she eaten something bad? Should she go to the hospital to get her stomach pumped?

She'd soon get her answer, as a wave of pain washed over her so intense that she let out a blood curdling scream and fell to her knees. Her shout drew a crowd, and she thought she heard familiar voices, but her heart was pounding in her ears and her vision was swimming. The pain wasn't going away and she thought for a moment that this might be the end. Another wave came over her, and the last thing she remembered was letting out another soul shredding shriek before she blacked out.

Chandra awoke with a start, bolting upright and looking frantically around. She found herself in a very familiar hospital room, on a very familiar (and uncomfortable) cot. Somehow she'd made it to the Sisterhood's headquarters. So she Walked, but she couldn't remember it, or landing, or anything.

"Good, you're finally awake." Chandra's attention finally turned to the woman sitting next to her bed. She'd been reading, and looked up at Chandra after marking her book. Purple eyes burned with curiosity, and painted red lips smiled. "How do you feel?"

"Shitty," came the honest answer. Now that she was awake, she was acutely aware of how every part of her body ached. "How did I get here?"

"You took quite the nasty Walk," the woman said with a small chuckle. "Although I'd say it was less of a walk and more of a plummet. You're lucky I was around to catch you, or you'd be dead by now."

Chandra cringed at the thought. She'd heard before that Planeswalkers who got lost in the Blind Eternities either went mad, or were absorbed back into the Æther. Of course she thought it was a myth made to scare children… "Who are you?"

"My name is Liliana Vess."

Oh. Her. Chandra had heard of the interim High Priestess who was wreaking havoc in the Sisterhood. It was one of many arguments the sisters made to try and get Chandra to come take up her birthright. From what she'd been told, she wasn't a fan of this Liliana Vess, but now she owed the woman her life.

"Thank you for saving me," she finally got out. Feeling exhausted, she lay back down and put a hand over her eyes. It wasn't bright in the room, but the flickering of the fireplace and several dozen candles was starting to give her a migraine.

"You're welcome." Chandra heard Liliana get up, she heard the door open and some hushed whispers, and then Liliana coming to sit back down next to her. "I'm sure you've got some questions. Best wait for Mother Alma, though. She was the one who treated you, I think its best she explain."

"Treated me for what?" she asked, sighing heavily. "What happened to me?"

"It wasn't exactly what happened to you," Liliana said vaguely. She was spared from saying more by the door opening. Mother Alma hurried in, her brown robes swirling around her and a medical bag swinging in her hand.

"My Lady," Mother Alma gave a short curtsy before she set the bag down and started rooting through it. "Quite the lucky duck you are. This isn't the first time you Walked here poorly and I'm sure it won't be the last, eh?"

"Knowing me, probably not." Chandra had to give a short, yet sarcastic laugh. The last bad walk she had was when her spark first ignited. She sobered herself, and furrowed her brow as she tried to recall the hazy few seconds before she lost consciousness. "But Mother, I don't remember Walking. I don't remember entering the Eternities, I don't even remember my Spark activating. I thought that could only happen if you're conscious."

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Liliana replied hesitantly. "No one and nothing else can control another's Spark unwittingly…"

"So what makes this not normal?" Chandra's ire was raised when neither woman could look her in the eye. They both looked down, and her hair started to lick with flames. "What aren't you telling me?! What happened?!"

There was a tense minute in the room before Liliana finally met Chandra's gaze. "You're pregnant."

Chandra let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Pregnant wasn't bad. It meant that she had a scapegoat to get out of the priestess-ship. Even if it turned out to be a boy, he could have a daughter to pass the title on to. She finally relaxed and fell back against the headboard, her eyes slipping shut.

"That's all? The way you two were acting made it seem like I was dying," she said with a chuckle. "Wait, I'm not dying, am I?"

"No," Mother Alma said quickly. "No, Excellency, you're not dying." Liliana's eye twitched at the use of the title, and Chandra had to hold in a chuckle. "However, your child might have." The chuckle died on her lips and her blood ran cold. Wide eyed, she looked to Liliana, who just nodded somberly. "And we don't yet know if it survived."

"We think that the pain you felt and your bad Walk was caused by its own Spark igniting in an attempt to save its life," Liliana said slowly, leaning over to take Chandra's hand. She didn't react, and Liliana squeezed it tightly. "There's some sort of magic blocking us from seeing if it's alive. And even if it is… there's a possibility it will be deformed somehow. We just don't know…"

"Which, in a way, doesn't make it any different from a normal woman's pregnancy, really."

Chandra knew Alma was trying to lighten the mood a little, but it wasn't working. Her breathing was getting erratic, and she squeezed Liliana's hand tightly, using it like an anchor in reality. There were so many thoughts in her head that they all jumbled together into a mass of white noise, no one thought more distinguishable from another. Hey vision went blurry for a minute, and there was a loud ringing in her ears.

It was a long minute before she finally regained control of herself. With a full body shudder, she returned to her senses and took a deep breath. And then another. And another. She then closed her eyes and focused on an inner power she seldom used. When she opened her eyes again, her vision had changed. She could see her Spark, shining bright under her nose; she could see Liliana's, cold, twisted, and not a little mangled; she could see Alma's empty chest, not even a Spark waiting to ignite. She plucked up her courage and looked down.

A small little ball of flame sat in her abdomen, warm, cozy, and very much alive.

When she finally returned to Regatha, she realized she'd been gone just over a week. She made a note of that in a little book she carried with her. Two days at the Sisterhood meant roughly 9 on Regatha. She was trying to figure out if there was a pattern to the time differential. One of these days, she'd sit down with all her notes and calculate it properly. It was an intriguing project, but there had always been something more important going on. Her hand unconsciously went to her stomach and she realized there was an even more important thing now. She briefly wondered if she was too young for a kid, but then remembered that she was in fact over 100, and had more life experience than most.

So lost in her thoughts was she that she walked back to her apartment on autopilot. She didn't notice the shocked looks from her neighbors as she strolled down the hall. She didn't hear when her landlord was asking her where she'd been. When she walked through the door, she didn't notice Jace sitting anxiously on the couch until he jumped and swept her up in his arms. She suddenly realized what having been gone for those 9 days meant. The way he squeezed her tight, face buried in the crook of her neck, he'd probably been worried. She wrapped her arms around him and almost started crying. Again she felt safe in his arms.

"I thought something terrible happened," he muttered, giving her neck a little kiss. His voice was small and half strangled, like he hadn't spoken in a while, or maybe like he was about to cry. "I'd thought you'd been kidnapped, I thought you'd been killed. What happened? Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered back, choking on her tears. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be gone so long."

"Where have you been?" he questioned again, this time pulling back to see her face. She finally got a good look at him, and it looked as though he hadn't slept in a week. Dark circles marred the usually pale skin and bloodshot eyes made the blue orbs look like they were glowing. He looked so broken… She choked out a sob and felt her knees give way. She couldn't bear the thought that she'd hurt him so. He managed to catch her, and scooped her up bridal style. Gingerly he placed her on the couch and folded her into his arms once again. "Are you alright?" All she could do was nod. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Not right now," she muttered, burying her face in his chest. She hadn't really processed the news yet, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to tell Jace. She felt him nod, and he stroked her hair softly. She relished in the feeling, and a soft smile came to her lips. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. Have we got anything in?" He chuckled at that, a movement which made her head bob a bit, and she had to chuckle too.

"The neighbors have been bringing food over," he explained. "Apparently they see me as a helpless puppy that needs taking care of while his owner is out of town. Their words. Or thoughts…"

His dry humor made her think that he was bouncing back nicely. She sat up a little and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. He leaned into her and a feeling of calm swept over her. She smiled into it and realized that she was home, right here in his arms. This child was scaring her, but so long as he was there, she felt like she could take on the world.

Dinner was a simple affair, just a stew that Chandra threw together. When she was making it, it smelled good, but now, sitting at the table, the soup was turning her stomach. Jace wolfed it down, but she could do no more than pick at it. She just pushed the bowl away and put her head in her hand. She looked at Jace through her fingers and could see that he was curious and worried. He looked like he was having trouble swallowing his tongue, though, as he waited for her to be ready to talk. So she took a deep breath and sat up straight. His ears pricked up and he pushed his own bowl away, and waited.

"I have something important to tell you," she started nervously. "But I don't know how to say it."

"Does it have to do with why you were gone?"

She nodded. "It's actually the reason I was gone. See, this thing… It made me Planeswalk, and I was only on the other plane for a couple of days. I—"

"Wait time moves differently on other planes?" he asked, shocked. "That's a thing?"

"You never noticed?" Now it was her turn to be shocked. "It's such a common thing. Like almost every plane I've gone to has a different movement of time."

"I never noticed." He leaned back in his chair, a look on his face as though his entire world had been turned upside down. When he looked back at her, they both erupted into a fit of giggles. That certainly helped to calm her, and when next she spoke she had all the confidence in the world.

"I'm pregnant." Jace's laughter died instantly, and it was like a bucket of cold water on Chandra. His eyes screamed fear, and her good mood was gone. That churning in her stomach was back. She looked down at her hands, and started fidgeting nervously. "I found out while I was gone…"

"Is it mine?" His words cut straight through her, and her head jolted up to look at him. Did he really not trust her? Or maybe it was just the shock talking. Chandra hoped it was the latter as she nodded slowly. "I'm gonna be a dad?" Another nod.

The next thing she knew, Jace was sweeping her off her feet into the most crushing bear hug a bean pole could offer. She let out an elated laugh and he kissed her soundly. She was worrying over nothing. That calm and peacefully feeling came over her again and for the first time in a few months, she felt like everything was going to be okay.

Jace put her down after a long minute, and started fishing around his pockets. "I guess this is as good a time as any to give you this." Confused, Chandra watched him pull out a small ring from his pocket. It was a simple black band, encased in silver filigree. "This is what got me into so much trouble a few months back. When I almost bled out on your carpet."

"I remember," she said, shaking her head. He almost died because he stole a ring? Dumbass.

"It's obsidian," he explained, turning it a few times in his hand. "Supposed to balance emotions and calm anger, et cetera, et cetera…" She gave a small chuckle at that. Yeah, she could use something like that. He fidgeted with it for another second before he got down on a knee. "Marry me?"

She was more shocked that he actually kneeled. Shocked, but she also found it hilarious. She couldn't help the giggles that turned to full blown laughter. And then she saw the look on his face that was it. She was on the floor, holding her stomach and wheezing because she couldn't breathe she was laughing so hard. In that moment, he gave up a little, and flopped down on the floor next to her. So much for trying to be romantic about it. She turned into him, and rested her head on his chest, still unable to contain her giggles.

"I don't know what laughter means," he said carefully, wrapping his arms around her. "Does this mean yes or no? Are you laughing at me?"

"Of course I'm laughing at you, you looked like an idiot on your knees." She smiled at him, and he playfully rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm saying yes."

"Oh thank the gods." He gently took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. "I love you, Chandra Nalaar."

"I love you too, Jace Beleren."

Chandra awoke the next morning with a terrible feeling of dread hanging over her. Before she'd even opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong. The bed was cold, she felt alone, and her stomach turned. She lay there, eyes squeezed shut for what seemed like an eternity trying to will the bad feeling away. It didn't, and she plucked up the courage to open her eyes. She was alone in the bed. Not the first time it's happened, Jace would sometimes have to leave early. Usually, though, there would be a cup of coffee waiting on her nightstand as an apology. There was no coffee, but there was a small slip of paper.

Again she lay there, staring at the note but unable to see what it said, frozen in fear for another eternity. She grabbed for the note. She read it. It was only two words. Then threw crumpled it up and threw it across the room. She cried into her pillow for a while. This couldn't be happening. She looked at the ring he'd given her just the night before. There was no way this was happening.

So she waited. All day she waited in her apartment for him to come back. She didn't even really notice that she had started packing her meager belongings. It all fit into two bags. She went to bed that night, and woke up the next morning. Nothing.

She did leave her apartment that day. She went down to the market, to find a merchant to book passage with to the monastery. She dawdled as long as she could, she wandered around the city, popped her head into the shop to let her boss know she was leaving. She went back to her empty room that night, went to bed, and woke up again the next morning. Still nothing.

Two days later the caravan left Zinara with Chandra in tow. The merchant's wife was kind to her, and helped her discover the ins and outs of pregnancy over the months they traveled. It was slow going because of the size of the caravan and the numerous stops they had to make. Chandra was sure she could have made the journey in a week if she'd gone on her own, but she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. Besides, the whole point of going on the caravan was to see more of this beautiful plane before she'd shut herself in the monastery forever. Though she didn't get to see much. She spent most of her days in the wagons, wracked with pain. Every day she had to check to make sure her baby was still alive. The paranoia set in quickly, and she barely moved from her seat for most of the journey, for fear of killing her child.

Things went from bad to worse at the base of Mount Keralia. The caravan refused to go up, saying that the path was too treacherous for the wagons and horses. They said the monks would usually come down with their own transport for the supplies and walk up. Chandra, heavily pregnant by that time, was freaking out. The hike up the mountain would take days in her condition. Before the anxiety attack could take, though, a monk appeared for the supplies and to help Chandra.

The hike was slow, as Chandra thought, but the monk was kind and gentle with her. She said her name was Luti, and that she had just arrived at the monastery as well. She'd head a few of the other monks talking about a woman who was coming who was more powerful than all of the monks combined and decided she just had to meet her. Chandra was grateful for this young lady and had a feeling they'd be fast friends.

Months went by without a peep from Jace. In that time, Chandra had her baby. A difficult delivery resulted in a mostly healthy baby boy who was blind. Blind, and lifting up everyone and everything in the delivery room with unchecked telekinesis. Chandra so desperately hoped that Jace would return, if for nothing else then to train his son who had grown into an exact clone. Same blue eyes, same wild dark hair, and same raw power and disregard for rules.

Jace never came back.

It had taken all of 12 hours for Jace to realize his mistake. His cowardice was in full swing when he ran off in the middle of the night. Ravnica was his safe haven, where he usually went when things got a little rough, a city full of puzzles and mysteries to keep him occupied for the rest of his immortal life. So there he went, searching for riddles sure, but lodgings and other things were at the forefront of his mind.

Turns out she could distract him from even the grandest of riddles. He kept seeing her red hair in his peripheral vision, hear her angelic laughter on the air, and feel her heat with every step. Perhaps that's what happened when one was in love, he had wondered. One just sees the object of their affections everywhere.

Though his steps were light and his heart soring, something nagged at the back of his mind. Something in their conversation the night before, something he couldn't quite place, that was urging him to go back. He figured that it was the fact that she was pregnant and he'd left without a word. Once that thought was in his brain, it didn't dislodge, and guilt ate at him quickly. It was his responsibility as much as hers, and with barely a day having gone by, he returned to Regatha.

He landed in their apartment. Funny, he'd thought, that his mind had called it 'theirs'. It was really hers, he just mooched. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. His blood ran cold with dread. Their last conversation floated through his head, about how time moves differently on different planes. How slow was Ravnica, he wondered, as he raced out to find the landlord. He discovered it was very slow, as two months had passed since Chandra left for the monastery.

Jace tried to track her down. He really did give it his best effort. No one remembered which caravan she got on. There wasn't a record or a ledger left behind. No one could tell him anything, or no one wanted to. Either way, he had nothing. He even took the trip out to the monastery, only to discover that no one there had heard of Chandra either. They didn't even know anyone was traveling to them, and they couldn't possibly tell him by which road she'd arrive, if she ever made it. After all, it didn't take months to get to the mountain.

The monks allowed him to stay for a week just to see if she'd appear. She didn't. He didn't sleep much in that week, and as the days went by and there was no sign of her, he started to lose hope. She'd told him what Mother Alma and Liliana had said about the baby, that it had almost died in her womb. What if something had happened on the road? What if she and the child had died, thrown in some ditch on the side of the road and left to rot? He couldn't bear the knowledge that his actions might have caused the death of the one person he'd come to love.

He returned to Ravnica with a heavy heart. He couldn't believe what he'd done, and as the days went by he'd begun to not be able to live with himself. Ah but his cowardice was too strong, and he couldn't bring himself just to end his life. Instead, he locked himself in his flat and started to dig through his own mind. He found every memory of her, every scrap of his time of Regatha and started to lock them away. But something went wrong. He'd never done this before, but he'd read about it and thought he knew the theory. His execution was poor, and as his spell raged rampant in his mind beyond his control he watched helpless as the memories were torn away. Just ripped out with abandon and everything was gone even her—

What was he doing there again?

"Ma?"

Chandra jolted when she heard the voice. She'd was sitting at their defacto dining table, a cup of now cold coffee in her hands, and staring into space. Zane's call to her had jolted her out of her memories, and she turned to look at him with a smile. The smile slipped off her face for just a second, as she saw his sightless eyes. He'd become so good at his illusions lately that he made it seem like they worked, even going so far as to use his magic to see. But every once in a while he let it all slip, and somehow it unnerved her.

"I'm right here sweetheart," she said, pulling out the chair next to her and making sure it scratched against the floor loudly. Zane sat down next to her, but didn't look at her. What was the point? He couldn't see, and instead left his gaze on the wall across from them. She took his hand and squeezed, letting him know where she was. "Is everything alright?"

"Dad's exhausting me," he said with a chuckle, speaking in the ancient language of the Sisterhood so no one could listen in. "Can you talk to him for me? He doesn't seem to listen to a word I say."

"If you think he listens to me then you're in for a rude awakening," she said, a sad smile on her lips.

"Why not? He's been hanging on your every word lately," Zane said so matter of factly that Chandra actually jumped. "What? It's true. He even asked me if I thought he had a chance with you."

"What did you say?"

"I said not in a million years. His answer? 'Well then it's a good thing I'm immortal'."

"I may not understand you two but I know when I'm being insulted."

Chandra and Zane both started, and turned to see Jace standing not too far away, arms crossed, and a playful grin on his face. He came to sit in his usual chair, at the head of the table to Chandra's left.

"Oh yes we were gossiping about all your most terrible qualities," Chandra joked, kicking him under the table. "It's rude to listen in on other people's conversations."

"How can I listen in when that weirdo language doesn't even react to a translation spell?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Sometimes I think you two just made it up."

"Yes, Jace, we made it up just so bothersome little sneak thieves like you can't understand us."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

"Just like I wouldn't put it past you to have figured most of it out by now. Who's translating for you? Gideon?"

"I'll have you know that I am a linguist. I don't need someone translating for me."

"So you have figured it out. How much?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"Just fuck already and get it over with."

Chandra stared wide-eyed at her son for a minute. She would never have expected that to come out of his mouth. He just looked smug, and Jace had a furrowed brow and a scowl.

"You know," Jace started, looking under his brow at the boy, "I remember you throwing Sorin across the room for a similar statement."

"That's different," Zane snapped back. They were sure he thought he was glaring, but really he was just making his eye twitch a little.

"Zane I need to speak to your mother in private," Jace stated flatly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Why don't you go out to the courtyard and train a little? I'm sure Gideon would love to help."

Zane hesitated for a moment. He took a deep breath, and his eyes took on a normal appearance, a single that he'd put up his seeing spell again. He looked at Chandra, who just gave him a shrug and a 'go ahead' hand motion. With a grumbled "fine" he walked away.

"I don't know if you've noticed…" Jace stopped for a second, as if he was looking for the right word. "But he's… There's something dark in him, Chandra. Something I don't know if I can contain. Is there something you're not telling me?"

"There's lots I don't tell you," she said with an evasive grin. "To what specifically are you referring?"

"I know it's hard for you sometimes, seeing the… issues. It's not your fault you're blind to them, you're his mother and—"

"I'm blind?!" She jolted out of her chair, towering over him with the heat of a thousand suns radiating off her. "You wanna talk about blind?! How about you? You're blind and you're deaf every time I try to talk about him. How many more times am I going to have to tell you that he's your son before you listen? Before you stop giving me that stupid blank look you're giving me right now and actually hear what I'm saying?!"

"I can hear you just fine!" Now Jace was out of his chair and right in her face. "I know the boy's a danger, that's why I'm training him! But there is something stirring in his heart that no one is going to be able to control if we don't do something! Now what aren't you telling me?!"

"Nothing you don't already know!" she snapped before turning sharply on her heals and storming out of the room. She almost ran into Liliana on the way out, who gave her a sympathetic look and a squeeze on the shoulder. She just shrugged it off and ran up the stairs.

Jace let out a deep sigh and sank into his chair, head in his hands. Liliana came and sat in Chandra's vacated seat. She didn't say anything at first, perhaps hoping that Jace would come to his senses.

"You're going to have to tell her eventually," Liliana said, idly picking dirt out from under her fingernails. "She has a right to know."

"I don't need to say shit," he muttered, glaring daggers at her.

"Oh really?" Liliana arched an eyebrow at him. "So you're not going to tell her that the spell that filtered out everything about Zane being your son wore off years ago?"

"No," came the flat reply.

"And you're not going to tell her that your memories have started coming back?"

"No."

"Glad we cleared that up."

She went back to picking at her nails and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally Jace asked, "Why should I tell her?"

Liliana shrugged. "Because she deserves to know? You can't be mad at yourself forever; it's was hundreds of years ago."

"I can and I will." His stubborn reply made her roll her eyes. "If you're so adamant that she needs to know, why don't you go tell her?"

"Because she won't believe me. You'd be better off telling Gideon or Nissa. They wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut."

"Yeah then all of Ravnica would know in a day."

"Only if you told Gideon. If you told Nissa it might take a week or so." His head hit the table hard. "Lesser of two evils, really."

"I don't know why I talk to you anymore…"

Jace left the room and headed towards the courtyard. He stood in the doorway and watched Zane and Chandra spar with quarterstaffs. He couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face as he watched them. Sure, not all of his memories of their time together on Regatha had returned, but enough had to piece together what happened. He wondered how things would have changed if he stayed with her instead of running off. His mind raced and the answer he came up with was that nothing would be the same. Gatewatch wouldn't have been founded, he wouldn't be the Guildpact, Chandra would never have become High Priestess… The list when on and on and on. Something in him told him that it all worked out for the best, but he still couldn't stop the guilt that crept into his heart. He'd hurt her, and he wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself for it. The day that happened was the day he'd confess all. Until then, he'd content himself to watch, and wait.