War of the Spark – Take Back Destiny

What would you give?

What would you sacrifice?

Anything?

Everything?

Would you make bargains and deals?

Would you turn to demons?

If you found yourself trapped, what would you do?

If you were a prisoner, would you defy your captor?

Would you fight and die, rather than be a slave?

If your choice could determine so many things… what would you choose to do?

. . . . . .

"When you find yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, mine will be the hands taking pleasure in giving you the final push."

. . . . . .

"But… But the pact… it has been broken. The four—"

"Entered the agreement by my hand, girl. The pact lives… THROUGH ME. Disobey… and the pact will silence you, permanently."

. . . . . .

"Do you know what you have done… Sister?! You cursed me to unlife! You have brought our house low with your blackest, vilest magic! The Void is all that awaits you foul creature!"

. . . . . .

Nicol Bolas was ready. Centuries of planning, of machinations, manipulations, of schemes, of pawns, of foul and twisted things; all of it, was at last ready. Godhood supreme awaited the Planeswalker now turned dragon. On Ravnica, would his long-desired wish, be fulfilled.

She led the Dreadhorde, as they were now known; a lethal fighting force like no other of zombies that were the eternal beings simply called Eternals. The Eternals were without any of the weaknesses of the undead, for though they were undying, their skills, those they possessed in life, remained intact.

Lilian Vess, the necromancer in service to the black dragon, lead the destruction of Ravnica, the city which had become the last and final resting place of countless Planeswalkers. She led their destruction… but was quietly defiant. The Eternals were ripping out the spark from any Planeswalker they met, fueling the gate that Nicol Bolas had made through another of his pawns.

While she was leading them, she could control their actions to an extent. She decided to minimize harm to the city and the buildings that inhabited it. Innocents would likely hide inside them. This small, rather insignificant, act, helped ease to a slight degree, the pain of her spirit. She wore the Chain Veil, and all the terrible pain that it brought with it. Her unholy contract was etched into her skin as lines that wove all over her body, visible when she was in proper lighting and at the right angle, but also able to be seen by all when channeling greater amounts of her power.

The Chain Veil served her well as she commenced this massive slaughter of countless souls to aid the ascension of one. Her magic manifested as purple in coloration for she was using the Veil to give her strength. She walked down the path to the gate, hand beginning to raise to signal and cause the last resistance to be crushed…

But wait… she had, somewhere, felt like she had seen this before. It was not those who fought who gave her pause. A child… and her mother. She had noticed them, her violet eyes meeting the child's, as the pair fled. As she seemed to observe them in slow motion, she could not help but notice the terror, the horror in their every move, their every breath, the look in their eyes. The woman… she looked almost like… Liliana… before… back when…

She continued onward past those who might have reached out to her or attempted to kill her. Nicol Bolas stood at the entrance to the gate atop of the largest entrances in the whole of Ravinica. Liliana strode down the path and commanded the Eternals forward. The undead rushed one of the last obstacles in their path: a man with a golden sword and armor complemented by white robes. They crowded in a circle, spears and swords, stabbing down upon his form.

Her command given, she stared up at Nicol Bolas, the demon-yellow of his eyes rising a little to meet hers. She was hesitating, or at least so it seemed. Was there a slight defiance to service? Was she actually beginning to waiver? His eyes seemed to dare her.

The Necromancer dropped her right hand and turned to look back down the road. They lay all but lost to sight now, under a pile of rubble that failed to conceal only the left arm of the woman. So slender and fragile that arm. It might as well have been a twin to her own. The Planeswalker gazed down at her own hand, and the binding demonic contract carved into her flesh, a bond most unholy and terrible, sustained by the existence of Nicol Bolas. The Black Dragon was the source, and had been so from the beginning, for the four demons she had served, had, in truth, served him. Thus, she had been his prisoner from the beginning.

"Defy me… in ANY way… and all time that you have known will return at once. The ages of your life, crashing down upon you. You shall feel them all as you become blackened dust, from the soles of your feet, to the crown of your head."

"Accept that you are not free. Accept that defiance will never give you anything."

A tear, unbidden and unprepared for, streaked down her face. This, this was the price of her choices, of war, of all that she had become. Regret began to drown her spirit; the Veil grew cold upon her form. Violet flames began to dance on her hand as she felt a coldness seize her, a defiance that was so cold it burned her very inner being.

The Elder Dragon sensed something as the sorceress turned her gaze back towards him, hand clenched into a fist. This was too far. No more. She could not take anymore. This would end now in the one and only way it must. With violet eyes burning defiance, Liliana reached out to the army. She channeled power, violet flames surging across her hands… and the Eternals moves as one. The man surrounded found the undead surging past him in a thundering wave.

Bolas raised a hand of his own, eyes blazing hellfire, and clenched it in fist of power. The undead raced to the arch, propelled by the terrible force of the Necromancer's will; but terrible and mightier still was the power Bolas now exerted upon the source of this betrayal.

Our bond is now broken. You would defy knowing the cost? So be it. Die, and know that it is too late to stop this or turn back. You shall die even if you wish to suddenly repent. Nicol Bolas does not give chances but once; and a god does not reign through mercy.

Her hands flared with orange light, the lines signifying the contract engraved upon her now fulfilling their purpose: killing her. The pain was unable to be described. Her flesh began to dissolve, blowing away as a dark cloud of dust as she continued to press forward, the violet of her power wreathing her form. Bolas gave a growl but did not express concern at the tide of Eternals sweeping up the stonework, climbing with inhuman ability towards him. The yellow orange of Bolas' power now shown completely all over Liliana, yet she remained standing, her legs trembling, her hands shaking. Her will was a focused spear she would not relent or lay down. She would die but not surrender.

Bolas roared in triumph over her. "Your defiance was never going to succeed. Knowing this you would still choose to turn. Nothing is hidden from Nicol Bolas, the Elder Dragon, soon-be-god of all. The only question is why. But it matters not."

"To take back control of my destiny!" yelled Liliana Vess, her body consumed in orange flames, refusing to surrender, to ever give over to the dark again. In the end, she would die before being a monster or demon or whatever evil she had once been ever again. Her soul was her own and she would not serve the ambitions of this evil ever.