Out of Oblivion Chapter 1:
A Magic the Gathering Fanfiction
I stood there in the church cellar where the Archangel Avacyn came into this Plane, it was a holy place, but this pilgrimage wasn't for hope against the monsters of Innistrad. This pilgrimage was for Avengement, Avacyn needed to be revived, but she was dead. Hope for her followers was dying, I had to do something to save Innistrad, to save this plane. I bring out an Urn adorned with her collar, I hesitantly move to the pile of ashes that was Avacyn. I fight my tears so not to spoil the ashes, but they do indeed come. My tears run warm some relief against the coldness of the empty Cathedral in absence of her holiness Avacyn. A tear of mine drips onto the ashes I begin muttering a curse but stop instantly for I am in the presence of Avacyn. I had already burned the other Angels with holy fire, it was gristly I dare not think of it. Their remains also put in Urns but none as grand as Avacyn's. After the grim duty is done of collecting her ashes I walk up the sunken stairs, there will be only one more pair of footfalls upon these stairs, mine.
I stop and listen, the moans of the dead are heard throughout the Cathedral, I need to planeswalk quickly to escape their clutches. I open the old once grand wooden doors. The legions of the dead meet my gaze. Holy magic beams in my left and the right I grasp Avacyn. I stop for a second and glance behind me. I blast the undead army with holy light and then close the door quickly, I walk over to the gaping hole in the Cathedral. On the edge of the hole lays Avacyn's holy spear. I hesitantly pick it up, I feel the small trace of her energy left in it. I close my eyes for a moment, and see the clouds, the sun. I return to reality, no sun or clouds, only the moans of the dead. I swing open the doors again the legions of the dead still eager to taste my flesh. "Avacyn, If I fail may my soul live along with yours."
"Child of mine, you will not fail, for you have my power, wield it for good holy mage."
"Avacyn." Tears streak down my face as I hear her holy voice since leaving for Kaledesh. I turn my attention to the mass of the dead. I feel the spear growing stronger, my holy light triples its strength, I swing the holy spear. Like the Helvault breaking there is an immense CRACK! The marble and the rock shutter beneath my feet and with the voice of Avacyn I boom. "I REST YOUR SOULS!" Holy light shines through out my body, I see Avacyn next to me, her light intertwining with my own. Then it vanishes and all is left is the familiar darkness of the Innistradian sky. There is no Avacyn, the army of the dead is banished. I am alone in the decrepit Threshold of the once glorious Church of Avacyn. I drop to my knees and hold the lifeless moonsilver spear in my hands. I take Avacyn's Urn. I put a protective shield of Holy magic around it and then put it in my bag with the other Urns. I am the Planeswalker Alexander, and my protector has been killed.