Nothing felt right. It hadn't since he left the others on their assault against the vampires. Now they were marching on the Helvault without him.
The thought of this killed him, thinking that whatever he did would be wrong. He had to choose the greater of the two evils to fight, though and the greatest of the evils is the shapeshifter.
Roland looked up at the dark skies as he forced himself forward, knowing that the darkness was an omen of things to come. What made matters worse was what he heard. Ever since he arrived on Innistrad, the sound of wolves or battle roared through the land, but now he could only hear himself move through the woods to his destination. Everywhere else was silent.
Was this the sound of the Plane preparing for the end? No, he couldn't think like that. No matter what would happen, this Plane would survive. The people of Innistrad are strong and resilient and even if things would go from bad to worse, he would show up. He would be there for the final confrontation as long as his prey was destroyed before then.
That was his priority, though. His prey must fall. He must pay for his sins.
A rustling sound came from behind him, the first sound made by someone other than him since he left Sam and the others.
He struck out, a wave of black magic shooting from him and slamming into the source of the sound. No body fell after the impact, though. Instead, a loud moan roared from the forest as a broken body limped towards him, revealing itself: a zombie.
Soon, the unhallowed moans of dozens of the undead seemed to ring out around him and, to his dismay, under him.
He couldn't stop though, he had to move. As he did, his mind was not on the hordes of undead swarming him. It was only on the shapeshifter and how he needed to end its horrible life.
He never stopped running, not for the rest of the night and the following day. His feet carried him forward, forcing him onward.
Finally, over the horizon, he could see it; the sigil of Avacyn. He was finally at the lost church, the place where, as Sorin stated, was a source of massive amounts of black and white Mana.
He did not slow his pace, though. Throughout the night, the zombies had followed him, relentless in their chase. They were very hungry and were planning on making him dinner.
Roland launched himself forward, turning around mid-air and concentrating massive amounts of white Mana. The sun broke through the darkness, piercing the foul, rotting creatures below. As the clouds covered the sun once again, the zombies were once again dead on the ground, their stink still covering the land around the church.
Roland sighed, wiping dirt off himself. As he did, a breeze blew past his ear, sounding like words from a dark, beautiful and dangerous voice. The words rang out, "Catch me…"
Roland turned around to see the doors to the church wide open, pure darkness inside. He could only stare into the vast emptiness, his imagination running wild. Was his prey really inside? If it was, had it been waiting for him this whole time? Was the shapeshifter really the prey or was he…?
"Holy hell, you caused a mess."
Roland didn't have to turn around to recognize the voice from behind him. "Sam, what are you doing here?"
She stood beside him, looking into the church as well. "I couldn't let you do this by yourself, duh." Any trace of a smile on her face faded as they continued to stare into the church. "Is this where it is?"
Roland didn't even nod, didn't even blink. "Shouldn't you be fighting with Sorin?"
She shook her head, her eyes locked on the shadows. "He'll be fine. He has an entire Plane on his side, after all." She grabbed ahold of his arm. "I'm more worried about you."
He closed his eyes, smiling a small smile. "Idiot." He walked forward, his locket now in one of his hands. Sam didn't respond to this, merely catching up to him as they continued into the shadows.
As they both crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind them, the candles seeming to light themselves. They looked around at the empty church. It was small, filled with dust. It had obviously been abandoned for a long time. These details did not catch their eyes, though. What caught their eyes was a hooded figure dressed in black, crouched on top of Avacyn's sigil.
It dropped to the ground, landing without a sound. Though they could not see its face, they could feel it was staring them both down. Its sleeves were long, covering its hands with plenty of room to spare, hiding what could have been anything.
This was it: The shapeshifter.
Silence fell over all of them for a few seconds before an unknown voice rang out from the hooded figure. It was the voice of a young woman.
"Roland the Twilit, we meet again…" Roland did not move a muscle. His entire body was frozen. The shapeshifter moved forward and as it grew closer, its blue eyes began to shine through the darkness of its hooded face. "There's no need to be shy," The figure lowered its hood, revealing the face of a familiar elf girl, the same girl that haunted Roland's dreams, "Lover."