I lived a life of solitude. I have been called The Sorrowed, The Cursed and the Recaller. My name is Aria Veritas and I am a special class of being. I am a planeswalker.
You may not be aware of this, but we live in a large multiverse made up of different places of existence called planes. My plane was called Celdon. I use the past tense because it no longer exists so I've been told. Good riddance I say. After what my people tried to do to me...
Well, it's a long story and it's not exactly painless for me to talk about. Let's just say that my people turned on me because of my natural curiosity and my spark, that is, my ability to planeswalk, ignited. That's why I'm here on the plane of Palendara. Well, this isn't where I ended up at first, but like I said, long story.
If you really want to know, I suppose I can tell you. I should start with how I came to be known as The Sorrowed. It is, in a way, my origin story. I think that's what they call it these days anyway.
It all started back on Celdon, like I said, my home plane. It was a mountainous place, that often had more lava flowing through it than actual rivers. I was born into a clan of skilled pyromancers. Given the chaotic nature of our power, we tended not to mix with other clans except during major celebrations.
My gran used to say that my curiosity was that of a cat, and that it would get me killed some day. I was curious about the other clans of Celdon, but mostly that of the elves that lived in the swamp lands. I had heard tales that they could raise the dead.
When my gran, the spiritual leader of our clan, passed to the other side, I was distraught. My young foolish head thought that maybe the dark elves could help me to bring her back. I had no idea what I was in for, and what would await me for my decision.
I had traveled for days through the valleys, across a river of lava and into the desolate swamp lands to the west of the Kerny mountains where my clan lived. Finally though, I had reached the camp of the nomadic dark elves of Ated swamp. I was greeted by the tip of a poison tipped spear pointed at my throat. I was bound, gagged and drug through sludge and waste into the center of their camp.
For two days I was interrogated until they were sure I was not a spy sent by the other clans. The elders decided that my intentions were simply to be reunited with my grandmother and they reluctantly agreed to teach me. After a couple of weeks, my skills in necromancy had grown enough that I was able to summon spirits, though they only lasted for a short time. I wasn't able to draw in enough black mana to sustain them for very long. Now if it was red mana, I could draw in so much I tended to burn myself from it's raw power.
In the middle of one of my training exercises a large commotion broke my concentration. I turned to see a large group of pyromancers from my clan, along with a few of the trackers from a neighboring forest clan staring at me with disgust. Among them was my father, our clan elder, and my brother. The look on my father's face made my heart sink.
The swamp elves, though greatly outnumbered, took up their arms and prepared to defend their home. I stood there between the two lines, unsure of how to prevent what was about to come.
"Father! Please do not hurt them!" I begged. "I know you do not trust them, but they have not hurt me."
"You have defiled yourself with their dark magic," he proclaimed with a crackling hiss, his anger rising to the point that his hair was now aglow. "How could you Aria? You know our laws. To come here was forbidden for anyone from our clan. To think that you willingly sought them out...You must be purified and this place will be razed to the ground!"
"NO!" I cried. I knew that to be purified meant that I would be burned until my flesh was melted away and only the meat beneath would remain. If I survived the fiery torment, I would live forever scarred and shamed for my actions. And the dark elves and their homes would be destroyed. Before I could do much else, the dark elves began summoning an army of dead, both zombie and spirit alike to aide them.
The two factions collided with such ferocity that I was overwhelmed by the feelings of hatred and anger. The dark elves were merely defending their territory, and my people were there to destroy it. It was all my fault, but I could not make anyone listen to reason with my determined and frightened shrieks. When it became clear that both sides now hated me and likely wanted me dead, I ran from the battlefield. Even at the age of nineteen I was still very much a naive child.
I ran as far and as long as I could, stumbling through the brambles, slipping on moss covered rocks and struggling through bogs. I ran until I couldn't hear the sounds of metal, wood and screams. I ran until I couldn't smell burning and dead flesh. Finally I collapsed at the foot of Burden Mountain, near the edge of a fresh, bubbling lava flow. My heart was racing in my chest and my lungs burned with the effort to breathe. I may have passed out for a moment or two, but it wasn't long before someone of unbelievable strength shook me awake by grabbing my arm roughly.
I looked up into the burning eyes of my father. Without any words he hauled me to my feet by my arm and tossed me toward a couple of his men. They drug me over to a nearby tree and bound me to it. I watched in disbelief as my father drew upon the mana of the lava flow and began summoning a large fireball.
With my heart thundering in my chest, I panicked and began to inadvertently draw in as much mana as I had ever come into contact with. Every mountain and swamp my eyes had seen gave me it's power and I unleashed a whirlwind of fire that had never been seen. I was overcome by the heat and intensity of the explosions around me. I thought I was going to die and that was when I felt a change deep inside me, as though some fire within ignited. I passed out, but when I woke up, I was in an entirely different place.
It was a strange, strange place to wake up in. Here I am, just a girl from a vast, mountain range covered land waking up in the middle of a crazy city, not understanding what the hell just happened. I mean my father had literally just tried to kill me!
I was in an alleyway, covered in still steaming blisters and dirt. The sounds of people milling about the streets and general commerce that I was only used to during celebration times. My clothes were in burnt tatters and I had no money. Very slowly I sat myself up and leaned against the dirty wall with a grimace. I grit my teeth as I look around, trying to ignore the pain I'm in. Though I am from a pyromancer clan, my ability to regenerate my body was still slow and unbalanced. I knew I would be left scarred from the mana burn.
Once I felt strong enough, I stood and crept along the wall until I got a good view of the street ahead. There were people everywhere bartering for food and wears at the stalls. Others were marching or riding about on horseback as though they held some authority. The smells of fresh breads and succulent fruits tempted my empty stomach, but I was in no condition to steal. And with no money, that would be my only option. I sank back down against the wall, trying to stay conscious. I was unaware that I was being watched by several sets of eyes. In the moment, I was more concerned about the state of my health. If I didn't get water and food, I would die of starvation. If I didn't find a source of water to wash away the dirt and grime I would likely die of infection.I knew I wouldn't be able to draw upon red mana again for awhile in my current state, lest it aggravate my injuries. Unable to bear the thoughts anymore, I succumbed to my dizziness and passed out once more.
When I awoke hours later, I was in a bed. I could tell from the noises coming from a nearby window that I was still somewhere in the city. As I slowly regained my senses, I could feel the stinging in my skin but it wasn't as profound as it had been in the alley way. In addition to the hustle and bustle outside I could hear two distinct voices, both masculine. It was dark, so I couldn't see much of the room around me. I strained my ears to listen.
"Given the state of the burn marks, I'd say it was done by a skilled pyromancer," said the first male voice. It was deep in tone, like a commander of vast armies. "Perhaps we should consider taking her to the Legion. Better their sense of order than the chaos of the Cult or the instability of the League."
"No," said the other voice, which had more of a soothing, if not slightly manipulative tone to it. "They would never take her. She has the signs of necromancy about her. Besides I have read her mind while she slept. She has great potential within her, but took on too much mana at once. She burned herself."
"Chandra perhaps then?" queried the first.
"And stifle her precious freedom?" the second answered with a bit of a disdainful snort. "The suggestion I have, you won't like."
"Surely you cannot be considering Liliana?! After all she has done to stab you in the back?" the first responded in shock at such a suggestion. "I would prefer the vampire lord to her."
"Is there any better with necromancy?" the second asked. "Besides, Sorin has enough on his plate getting Innistrad back in order. Tybalt has been causing him great pains to the effect of having to call upon old summons not ordered for ages."
"I did not realize things were so bad. Perhaps I should pay him a visit and offer a hand."
"I don't know that he would accept it, but now that his angel's are free, I'm sure he'll either beat Tybalt into submission or run him out," came the response. "In any case, I still think this the best course, whether we like it or not."
"I still disagree. I know that I could pose this to Chandra as a challenge worthy of her power."
"We shall see. By all means, go and search ol' flame head out while I seek out the mistress of dark things, and we'll see where we end up. In the end, it must be the girl's decision."
I knew they were talking about me, and as much as I wanted to continue listening, I could feel another wave of dizziness washing over me. Once again I lost consciousness, wondering who the two men where and why they were deciding my fate.