Chapter 2: Island Sanctuary Page 7

Although Dominaria's defenders had, against all odds, achieved their hard-fought victory, the Phyrexian Invasion would scar their world forever more. Those kingdoms that had not been utterly destroyed were left to rebuild with mere fractions of their original populations. Much of the land had been despoiled by Phyrexian plagues or buried beneath the scabrous hulls of war ships, oozing mana batteries and twisted bio-mechanical limbs. In most cases, it was deemed too dangerous and laborious to remove them and so they lay as grisly war memorials. Meanwhile, survivors scraped whatever sustenance they could from soil that had just a few years ago risen up under Yawgmoth's bidding to slay them.

Yet, rumors began to circulate of an island that had somehow escaped devastation – where civilization could rise again. Ancient legends referred to it as Otaria, the home of the Numena, the group of mighty wizards responsible for sealing the Primeval dragons. It was said that before they died, the Numena concealed their kingdoms beneath a veil of enchantment that would protect their lands in case the dragons ever broke free. The spell would be broken only when the dragons were destroyed once and for all. Having awoken during the Phyrexian Invasion for an ill-timed bid at global domination, the dragons indeed met their final end at Yawgmoth's hands.

Most dismissed it as a false hope, but a brave few dedicated themselves to discovering the island.

Sisay stood at the helm of Victory, her chestnut eyes staring out at the crashing waves as her long, braided ponytail whipped in the wind. Strong hands gripped the wheel as it fought to stay on its easterly course, straining well-muscled arms. Hundreds of huddled bodies sat amidships, dressed in tattered rags and cloaks. The great sailing ship was filled to capacity, carrying with it survivors from the Bay of Pearls to Zerapa. For most of them; there had been no home left to return to, so they decided to place their fates within the hands of the former Captain of Weatherlight

Who better to deliver them to salvation than the greatest heroes of the age? They, who drove their prow into the very heart of Yawgmoth himself to strike down the dark god? Sisay, along with the Samite Master Orim, the Talruum Champion Tahngarth and even the unlikely goblin hero Squee were living legends throughout Dominaria. However, there were many among the former skyship crew who appeared now only as memories, phantoms in the mist. Sisay could still see them all: Rofellos, Mirri, Hanna, Gerrard and so many more had given their lives so that others may live.

Even Crovax and Ertai, who had become consumed by Phyrexia's evil, Sisay remembered them as the heroes they once were. Karn, the silver golem, had somehow acquired Urza's planeswalker's spark. No longer an artifact creature, though he had always been so much more in her eyes, Karn was now truly alive and free to walk the countless worlds of the multiverse for all eternity. She hoped to see him again, at least once, before her time passed. Perhaps most of all, Sisay missed Weatherlight herself.

When she stood, as he did now, at Weatherlight's wheel, she had felt at one with the ship. As she soared and dove through the heavens, she could not help but shake the feeling that Weatherlight shared her joy. It was as though the ship had been alive, learning as she learned until piloting her became second nature. These suspicions were confirmed as Weatherlight awoke with a mind, soul and voice of her own – only to sacrifice herself to destroy the Lord of Wastes. Now her bones lay in some fathomless ocean grave. There would never again be another ship like her.

Sisay was roused from her thoughts by the feeling of a strong hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

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"I miss them too," said a deep, strong, but sorrowful voice. "They feast now in the halls of Torahn and one day we too shall join them. But for now, we have won our victory and our right to live. Let us make the most of that time, they would want it that way." Sisay closes her eyes for a moment as she regains her strength, fighting back the tears forming in their corners.

As she re-opens her eyes, she looks over her shoulder with a faint smile at the towering form of Tahngarth. The Talruum Minotaur, like her, had once been a prisoner in the dungeons of Rath's Stronghold. Once proud and vain, his form had been twisted by a Phyrexian mutation ray, bleaching parts of his fur white and causing a bony crest to emerge from his brow. Broken at first by this "hideous" deformity, his crewmembers had been there to steel his spirits. Tempered by an inner fire, he fought on to claim his vengeance and cleave his double-bladed stiva through the tendrils of Yawgmoth himself.

Sisay had always harbored affection for him, ever since they first met. Weatherlight had crash landed in his village after an attack by a volcanic dragon. The punishment for intruders was death, and the village elders cared little that the ship's crew had no choice in the matter. Her sword arm broken, Sisay was still prepared to fight to protect her comrades. This valor had earned her Tahngarth's great respect and he offered to take her place in the trial by combat. Although physically outmatched, Tahngarth had prevailed by use of unorthodox techniques that proved to Sisay he was far more than just a dumb brute.

Sisay had never spoken of her feelings aboard Weatherlight. Although Gerrard and Hanna had shared a deep love, Sisay convinced herself that it would only distract from their mission. Perhaps it was because she was the product of Urza's Bloodlines experiment, a selective breeding program which ensured that she came to possess all the qualities of a hero – including self-sacrifice. However, with the war won and their destiny fulfilled, there had been no more reason to hold back. One night, she confessed her love and found, much to her joy, that Tahngarth shared it.

Tahngarth's other arm wrapped gently around her waist as he cradled her body against him. Without a word, Sisay leans her cheek against his powerful bicep, warming her face from the cold wind. Her eyes then scan the decks, looking for Orim. She soon spotted her turban and coin coiffed hair as she moved among the refugees. The Samite healer was passing out roots and herbs to help control fever and sea sickness.

Sisay knew that Orim's heart too was filled with sadness; not only for those lost but those left behind. During their adventures on Mercadia, she had fallen in love with the Cho-Arrim leader, Cho-Mano, who led his people in a rebellion to overthrow the corrupt Magistrate. It had always been her intention to return to Mercadia after the war. Karn had brought her there following the ceremony at the Martyr's Tomb in Urborg but her duties as a healer meant that she could not remain. She had informed Cho-Manno of their victory, but that there was still much work to be done on Dominaria.

They had enjoyed one night together under the stars in the Navel of the World which Orim hoped would last forever. Then, they parted again, the second time even more painful than the first. After returning her home, Karn promised that he would check back on her and that when her work was done he would reunite her once more with Cho-Manno. Years had passed since that day and Orim wondered if Cho-Manno believed she would even return. After this mission, Sisay had promised they would travel to what remained of Llanowar in search of Freyalise — hoping that she would remember Orim's discovering the cure for the Phyrexian plague.

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For now, Orim considered it her duty to come to the aid of other survivors in need. For Sisay and Tahngarth, it granted them a sense of purpose again. Although it wasn't as grand as being the keepers of The Legacy, it was perhaps just as crucial to the survival of their world.

Sisay's silence was broken as another thought entered her mind.

"What about Squee?" she asked. The goblin had not aged a day since he had been granted immortality by Yawgmoth. The dark god had intended for him to become Crovax's plaything; allowing the Evincar to kill him again and again only for his body to re-assemble itself from any mutilation inflicted. Through Squee, the vampire could feed upon an unending pool of life force; allowing him to increase his strength indefinitely. Fortunately for Squee, his comrades had rescued him from this fate and Gerrard laid the monster Crovax had become to rest forever.

Squee had probably "died" a half-dozen times since then, proving that Yawgmoth's spell had not been broken with his death. Sisay wondered if Squee would one day come to consider it a curse. He would live to see everyone he ever loved slowly age around him and then die, leaving him all alone. If the afterlife Tahngarth spoke of did exist, then Squee was forever barred from its doors. His soul would never find peace or rest.

Looking down at Sisay, Tahngarth says hopefully "Maybe the spell will wear off over time. Or, perhaps, Torahn will grant him mercy when the time comes." He then chuckles heartily and says "In the meantime, we'll just have to put up with the immortal nuisance." Tahngarth had developed a grudging respect for Squee over the course of their adventures. He had proven himself to be loyal and a crack shot with a cannon, but he was still not without his "charms."

Tahngarth had barely finished the thought when the sound of the goblin retching could be heard from the crow's nest. Moments later, goblin vomit splashed down atop Tahngarth's horns. Quickly letting go of Sisay, Tahngarth swore loudly and repeatedly in minotaur as he ran for the nearest swab bucket. "DAMN YOU," Tahngarth shouted in the common tongue as he dumped the soapy water onto his head and feverishly scrubbed with a towel. "I THOUGHT YOU'D LEARNED TO AIM!"

"ORIM!" Squee's ear-piercing voice then shouted down from above. The goblin's green fingers clutched the edge of the wooden bucket in which he sat with one hand while the other gripped a spyglass. If there was one thing that most historians agreed on, it was that goblins made exceptionally poor sailors. This fact had been known since the fall of the Sarpadian Empires, yet Squee wasn't about to be left behind. Besides, for all his faults, he did have keen eyes.

"Oh come on Squee, you'll live!" Sisay joked, her mood now much improved. "Dat's not funny!" Squee shouted back down. "I can still suffer ya know! Member I saved all yer butts from Volrath!" Squee would never let them forget how he had been the one to shoot down Volrath's ship, Recreant, during the final battle on Mercadia - or how he had single-handedly defeated the corrupted Ertai, who had become Crovax's archmage.

The latter Squee had achieved by complete accident. He had been killed so many times that he was in a state of delirium, unsure if he was alive or dead. Ertai had gone to recharge his spells having used them all up trying to find one that would make Squee stay dead. Squee had simply tripped into the controls of Ertai's Rejuvenation Chamber, accidently frying him. Of course, the rest of them didn't need to know that.

Eventually, after tending to her mortal patients, Orim climbed the rigging to deliver the reviving medicine to Squee. It was the third time she was doing so today.

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"You really need to get your sea legs," Orim said as Squee forced himself to chew the tough, foul-tasting roots. "BLEH!" Squee gagged after forcing himself to swallow. "Don't you gots any that tastes like centipedes or maybe a nice dragon fly?" Squee complained.
"There's plenty of bugs below deck," said Orim. "You should get on them before they get into much more of the rations."

"Squee is tired of maggots and weevils," the goblin protested, crossing his arms. "Dats tha only bugs they got on dis ship. I miss Weatherlight, ya didn't have ta wait foreva to gets from place ta place."

"We all miss Weatherlight," Orim began, her reply cut short as Squee suddenly started up, fixing his spyglass to his eye.

"What do you see?" Orim asked.

"Squee thinks…Squee things he see land! LAND HO!"

Squee's cries quickly roused the rest of the sea weary crew who all rushed to the prow of the vessel to get a closer look. Sure enough, emerging through the mist and growing steadily larger in the distance was a large, grey protrusion dotted with what appeared to be a jagged mountain range.

"Is that it, is that Otaria?" asked Sisay.

The answer came swiftly when what had appeared to be a land mass suddenly heaved and rose above the waves, revealing the beaked head of a Dreamwinder serpent. A long tongue lashed the air between its great maw and long spines ran along its great length. Few sailors had ventured this far east of Jamurra, but those few who had had brought with them legends of this beast. It was able to channel the blue mana of its environment to wreath itself in illusions to lure in unwary prey. Howling aggressively, the serpent cut quickly through the water, closing in.

"NOT LAND!" Squee shouted in a panic as Sisay cursed and un-sheathed her cutlass. There was no time to avoid it or to get to the cannons. "ALL HANDS, TAKE UP ARMS!" Sisay commanded as she rushed down to stand beside Tahngarth. "Ever think trouble goes out of its way to find us?" the Minotaur snorted as he raises up his stiva. Meanwhile, the rest of the crew scrambled to take up spears or whatever weapons they had carried with them.

"By now trouble should know better," Sisay replied to Tahngarth, gritting her teeth.

Then the serpent struck. Its long neck burst from the waves with a spray of seawater as it lunged for the crow's nest.

"Not again!" squealed Squee as the Serpent snatched him up in its jaws and crushed him beneath rows of fangs as long as a man's arm.

"LOOSE!" yelled Tahngarth as the crew hurled a hail of spears. Most bounced harmlessly off the creature's hard scales. A few struck true, but penetrated only shallowly into the flesh beneath. To the serpent, these were little more than irritating pinpricks. It was more pre-occupied by the fact that no matter how much it chewed, there always seemed to be bones cracking like new. This served to momentarily distract the creature, giving Tahngarth opening he needed.

Sprinting across the deck, he leapt at the beast, grabbing hold of one of its spines. Then, with his free hand, he proceeded to drive his Thran metal stiva deep into the creature's body before yanking it forth with a spray of green blood. The serpent howled in pain and spat the pulped remains of Squee back out onto the deck. Moments later, the mass of splintered bones and torn muscles re-assembled into a perfectly whole body. "DOES SQUEE LOOK LIKE A BAIT WORM TO YOU?!" The goblin shouted angrily.

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At this, the enraged serpent swung its spine-covered head across the deck. Crew members dove for cover but some weren't quick enough. Gore splashed across the decks from bodies sliced clean in half. Sisay nimbly dodged and thrust her blade into the creature's eye. Again the beast howled in pain, whipping back its head and carrying Sisay along with it. She barely managed to grab hold of a horn protruding from the serpent's head to avoid being thrown into the sea.

Meanwhile, Tahngarth continued to scale the beast. With one hand, he reached up to clutch a new spine and with the other he stabbed a fresh hole with his stiva, using it like a climbing pick. Looking down at him, the serpent swept in with its razor-sharp beak. However, before its crushing jaws could close around him, Tahngarth was able to wedge his Stiva between them. "A little help here!" the minotaur shouted to Sisay.

"Working on it!" Sisay shouted as she yanked her cutlass free and hung tightly on the horn with her other hand. With a grunt, she then swung her body up and onto the creature's forehead. Wrapping her legs tightly around sections of armored plating, she drew up her cutlass, gripping it in both hands. Then, thrusting down with all of her strength, she drove the thran-metal blade effortlessly through the serpent's thick skull. Cold metal pierced brain and the serpent gave one final death wail before crashing lifelessly back into the sea.

The crew watched in awe at this heroic triumph. Cheers erupted across the deck as Sisay and Tahngarth surfaced, gasping for breath and treading water. Ropes were quickly thrown over the side as the crew pulled them in.

After Orim had tended to the injured, the dead were buried at sea. While those lost would be mourned, the crew knew well that had it not been for the efforts of Sisay and Tahngarth, far more would have perished. The rest of the voyage continued without incident and a few days later, Victory reached the shores of Otaria.

The crew was greeted at the southern shore of Otaria by a group of humans and bird-headed aven dressed in improvised armor, bound together from the grasses of their homeland, the Daru plains. They introduced themselves simply as The Order, a group of nomadic clerics and warriors which had forsaken artifice and revered their ancestors. It soon became apparent that they had little contact with the outside world since the days of the Numena. Thus, The Order was eager to hear what had transpired in the lands beyond the sea. Sisay, Squee, Tahngarth and the refugees were welcomed to enjoy a feast at one of their encampments and share stories around the fire.

From the crew, the order learned of the horrors of the Phyrexian invasion, which only served to reinforce their fear of machines. So too, did they learn the plight of those now struggling to survive in a ruined world. The heads of the order welcomed the refugees with open arms and told Sisay to spread word of Otaria. The Order would welcome any who wished to start a new life among them so long as they respected their ways. For those who could not, there were many other lands which might serve as a new home.

From the order, the crew learned of the cephalid and merfolk empires beneath the waves, of the wizards of Balshan Bay and the goblins, dwarves and human barbarians inhabiting the Pardic Mountains. They learned too of the forests of Krosa and Wirewood, which teemed with life, from centaurs to the insect-like nantuko to human druids dedicated to preserving the balance of nature. They also learned of the greedy Cabal of mages who governed the city of Aphetto and its gladiatorial arena. There would be a place for settlers from all walks of life here. While part of her wanted to remain with Tahngarth and forge a new life, Sisay did not forget her promise to Orim.

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