AN: So I need to put in a content warning and disclaimer. This chapter features a character in the later stages of an abusive relationship after the first break. If you've been reading this since the beginning, which character it is shouldn't be a surprise, but the way they behave might be. Just leaving is never as easy as it sounds, especially when an abusive partner has convinced you that you need them or made you dependent on them for whatever reason. It requires resources not all people have access to, and leaving is always the most dangerous time for a victim of abuse by a partner. This chapter by no means glorifies abuse and if anything I hope it helps shed light on a misunderstood topic using the metaphors available to me in a fantasy medium. Planar Chaos is a large fic with a lot of diverse characters, not all of whom are necessarily good people and I strive to represent that diversity accurately without exploiting people who have endured similar experiences.

Planar Chaos

Portal Saga

Chapter 20: Return to Ravnica

"Jace!" Ral Zarek called hoarsely. He banged once again on the door to the Living Guildpact's sanctum where the telepath lived with his friends, the Gatewatch. Ral slammed his fist into the door again. "Dammit, Beleren, open the door!"

"You won't find him," a feminine voice said. Ral turned to see Lavinia, Champion of the Azorius and Jace's permanent attaché on Ravnica. As always, she dressed in a full suit of armor, her only ornament a cloak pin bearing the triangular sigil of her guild.

"Then where is he if he isn't up to his eyeballs in paperwork?" Ral's mind raced. Jace had a habit of abandoning his post, and to a greater extent Ral's home, to gallivant off into the sunset playing hero with his friends.

"Jace is away on business with his colleagues," Lavinia said.

Ral grumbled in frustration. Lavinia, like most of the Azorius, gave the bare amount of information necessary to hold a conversation. "I need more than that, Lavinia. We both know what Jace is."

"The Guildpact has departed for Amonkhet."

"Never heard of the place." Ral sighed. He, admittedly, wasn't as well travelled as Jace. His place was on Ravnica. Any other world held nothing for him but disappointment and a renewed feeling that his existence held no meaning.

"He did say something about a great dragon," Lavinia begrudgingly offered.

"That doesn't help me, Lavinia."

"Perhaps if you were to go after him?" Lavinia suggested. "With your shared abilities, it seems logical."

"I can't," Ral said angrily. "If Jace is gone, it falls to me to protect Ravnica."

"Only the Guildpact can-"

Ral cut her off. "Damn Jace and damn the Guildpact, Lavinia. If he'd just kept his nose out of my world's business then I'd be the Guildpact and we wouldn't have this problem!" He caught sight of his reflection warped in Lavinia's breastplate. His red face, wide eyes, black hair with that stupid streak of gray that made him look old, Ral was embarrassed by himself. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "If Jace isn't going to do his job, then I'll just have to do it to the best of my ability. Can you help me?"

Lavinia merely looked at Ral with sorrow in her eyes.

"You can't or you won't."

She didn't answer.

"Lavinia," Ral said, "if the laws prevent you from helping me, that's one thing, but are you going to stop me?"

"I must." Lavinia drew her sword. "Ral Zarek, back away from the sanctum doors or I will be forced to place you under arrest."

"Lavinia, we both want the same thing," Ral said, holding up his hands in as nonthreatening a gesture as he could. "We both want peace and stability on the plane. That cannot be achieved without an acting Guildpact."

"Leave, Ral," Lavinia said coldly.

He had no other choice. Barreling through Lavinia would arouse suspicion, especially if he were to take the same courses of action he'd taken to get here in the first place. This time Ral had to make a plan and stick to it without his destructive brand of improvising.

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Vilhelm discarded his restrictive armor in a rubbish heap, glad to be rid of the heavy garments. His long coat swished around him once more and his skin could finally breathe again, not that it needed to. The sensation of overwhelming heat that existed inside of heavy armor in a warm place was uncomfortable not just to humans but to those more cold-blooded members of society like himself. He fixed his ascot pin bearing the sigil of the Orzhov guild and made his way to Vizkopa and the Church of Deals.

The guards seemed startled when the impeccably dressed Vilhelm appeared at the gates to the main building of the church.

"Sir, you've been gone for quite some time," one of the guards said. Her hand gripping her pike shifted.

"I was away on a special assignment for Lady Teysa and the Obzedat," Vilhelm said, projecting confidence.

The guard who had spoken considered his statement. The close relationship between Vilhelm and Teysa was a topic of gossip among the halls of the Church of Orzhova. Her emotional state after his sudden departure only fueled the rumor mills.

"I'm sure Lady Teysa will be pleased to hear of your return," she stepped aside, allowing Vilhelm entry.

He brushed past thrulls shuffling through the halls running errands and various clerics tallying numbers of souls or amounts of gold or other such nonsense. Vilhelm scoffed at the Ghost Council's materialism. Riches did not provide anything to a spirit without its body or a zombie without its mind. Vampires, on the other hand, experienced an objectively better form of undeath. Everything the ghosts envied and the zombies could no longer comprehend he could enjoy, like Teysa's trembling flesh as he fed on her.

He didn't announce himself before entering her chambers. Surprise, in his opinion, tasted better.

But Vilhelm wouldn't taste surprise. He opened the door to find Teysa, lovely throat exposed, surrounded by a group of Ravnican vampires who balked at her offer.

Vilhelm stretched out a hand and the intruding bloodsuckers crumpled to the ground, barely having time to utter shrieks of mental agony. They would not rise again without Vilhelm's command. He looked at Teysa, sitting with her ankles crossed in her chair, clutching the bodice of her dress to keep it from slipping any lower. He noticed she was trembling. Fear would have to do in place of surprise.

"Teysa," Vilhelm said slowly, adopting a paternalistic tone that failed to veil his cold rage at her betrayal, "what is the meaning of this?" He gestured to the newly created thrall vampires that remained motionless from his lack of commands.

She began to shake even more, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I… I…"

"You…?" Vilhelm took a few steps closer, beckoning her to continue.

"I didn't know when you were coming back," she said, hanging he head.

Vilhelm closed the gap between them, tilting her chin up to look at him. "You lost faith in me, Teysa."

"Faith isn't a part of this church, Vilhelm."

"You betrayed me, Teysa."

"I'm sorry," she said meekly, averting her eyes.

"Look at me," Vilhelm commanded, shifting his grip to her throat. He felt her pulse under his fingers and her ragged, frightened breaths like a cornered animal. "I need to know you'll never do this again."

"I promise."

"Liar," Vilhelm hissed, throwing Teysa from her chair. She landed on her knees.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'll never do it again."

"I don't believe you," Vilhelm growled in her ear. He pulled her up by her hair and shoved her again. She fell against her bed and crumpled.

"I promise, Vilhelm, I promise," she cried, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

He knelt down next to her and took her face in his hands, gently this time. "You have to tell me something. Say it out loud or it won't count. Tell me you belong to me."

"I do," she said, nodding eagerly and smiling. "I belong to you." The tears still came, but she was no longer afraid. She'd survived his anger and proved her loyalty. It was just a test, it had to be. The bodies scattered around the room no longer seemed real to her.

"Now you know what I came here for," he said, smirking a charming smirk. He scooped her up in his arms, stood, and laid her down on her bed. "Don't cry, dear Teysa," he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing tears from her face. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's okay. It was my fault."

Vilhelm smiled wide enough to expose his fangs.

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Marthel breathed in the city air with eager lungs. He'd missed the metropolitan buzz of Ravnica while helping Brock and Kyari on Kamigawa, and it wasn't like they needed him to stay behind and help rebuild after Rinok's meddling. Nadia was pleased at his return as well, but less pleased at his current desires to wander the undercity.

"I don't get why she doesn't like it down here," Marthel muttered. He inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the urban smells that trickled down from the highest reaches to settle here in the domain of Golgari rot farmers and the forgotten Dimir.

He descended further and further, aware of a small shape following him. When he turned to look over his shoulder it would materialize into something innocuous like a snake or large beetle, but when Marthel turned his back he once again heard soft footsteps, almost silent on the carpet of rot and moss. Marthel merely kept going, sure he could take on anything following him. Unlike most mages on this plane, he had a never ending arsenal of spells and skills learned across worlds. What could possibly best a jack of all trades fueled by the power granted a planeswalker?

Deep inside the plane of Ravnica, as with all planes, the heart of the world worked tirelessly to maintain balance both within itself and the multiverse. Ravnica, in particular, had a heart more active in that role since the creation and signing of the Guildpact thousands of years ago. The great magic wrought to keep the guilds in balance penetrated the very core of their world, effecting a change within Ravnica similar to the Conflux of Alara and the altered state of Tarkir, drawing planeswalkers to the world and creating them out of its denizens. The secrets Project Lightning Bug should have revealed to Niv Mizzet had long been known by the heart of Ravnica. It felt the presence of every planeswalker through the leylines, and it monitored them.

Marthel and his unseen tagalong were traveling along the path of one such leyline deeper and deeper into the undercity. Eventually they came out into a pool of sunlight cutting through the city above them. All around them brightly colored stones lay scattered in the grass, the remnants of some long abandoned monument.

The dark skinned planeswalker laid down in the middle of the soft grass, stretching out his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. The shapeshifter following him sighed in disappointment, if beetles could sigh.

"I know you're out there," Marthel said, keeping his eyes closed. "I'm sorry if you're not satisfied with my destination. Not everyone sneaking through the undercity is up to something." The warmth of the sun laid over him like a blanket. Marthel thought perhaps he could take a nap. A rustle of grass told him that his tagalong had departed.

Dahni sighed again, resuming a humanoid form. She opted for female this time, noting that people seemed to view her as less threatening when she was female. Long hair felt nice. It gave her something to play with. She could have long hair when she was male, but thought it made her stand out on the streets of Ravnica. Some elven men kept their hair long, but among humans the customary grooming required short cropped hair. Unless, of course, one was part of the Rakdos and under no circumstances did Dahni want to be mistaken for a member of the Rakdos.

The stranger had led her nowhere. Dahni meandered through the undercity unable to figure out how to report her mission as a failure not just to Lisandra, but to Lazav. The vampire woman's ire could be dealt with, but Lazav had taken Dahni in as a child and Dahni owed him a great debt as a result. One small shapeshifter child meant hardly anything to the rest of Ravnica, but to the Dimir Dahni was an asset. She felt important to them and hated letting Lazav down. She kicked a stone and watched it clatter down the tunnel in front of her before following it and kicking it again.

She wandered kicking the same stone for a while, how long she couldn't tell without the sunlight blocked by the layers and layers of Ravnica's city. Eventually it rattled down a gap in her walkway.

"Shoot," Dahni said, crouching to peer down the hole. Her stone was down there, the opening just wide enough for her arm. She reached in up to her shoulder, fingers brushing against a smooth surface, but unable to grasp it. Then she had a thought.

"I'm a shapeshifter," Dahni laughed, transforming into a vedalken male. The longer limbs of the vedalken race allowed him to grasp the object, larger than the stone he'd been kicking earlier and infinitely more interesting because he didn't know what it was.

Dahni shapeshifted once more, resuming his human female appearance. She would attract less attention down here as a human than a vedalken. They hardly ever entered the undercity, most working with the Azorius Senate or the Simic Combine. She turned the object, a palm sized stone, over in her hands. It glittered in the dim light of the undercity and pulsed with a strange magic. For some reason, Dahni felt it was her destiny to have such an object. She saw her own face reflected in the smooth surface, but then it changed, cycling through other faces she'd never seen and some she had. The elf woman who'd defeated a fully grown Hellkite dragon in the shopping district, the man she'd followed into the undercity, a different man with dark hair and mismatched eyes tending to a bizarre creature made of tree bark and magic, Lisandra, a gray skinned vampire, Ral Zarek and the living Guildpact Jace Beleren.

"Who are all of you," Dahni wondered, "and why are you connected?" She tucked the stone into one of her vest pockets and pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. The ragged edges needed mending, but she'd deal with that when she returned this find to Lazav. Perhaps her mission hadn't been for nothing.

Upon crawling out of the undercity, Dahni was met with a chaotic scene. Azorius justicars herded civilians through the streets, barking orders back and forth to the soldiers of the Boros legions. She hid in the shadows long enough to find an opening, then made a break for another alleyway, one that would lead her back to the Dimir.

"Stop that girl!" one soldier cried. Immediately a justicar's head snapped in Dahni's direction, a detaining spell at the ready. She dove, tumbling into the alleyway and out of sight. Footsteps pounded into the cobbled streets behind her. Dahni turned a corner and immediately became swept up in a crowd of people. She wove her way through the sea of bodies, glancing over her shoulder to see the justicar still tailing her.

"What did I do this time," Dahni muttered to herself. What was even going on? So much chaos was uncharacteristic of the streets of Ravnica in the days since the Guildpact was renewed. Something big had to be going on.

She exited the throng and whipped around another corner, shapeshifting into a male vedalken form again. They were after a human girl, after all. Dahni adopted a smoother gait, heading in the direction of the shopping district.

"You there," the justicar called. Dahni turned to look at him with a quizzical expression.

"Is there something I can help you with, officer?" Dahni asked.

"Did you see a human girl run through here? About five and a half feet tall, black hair, dark cloak?" the justicar huffed, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"She barreled down the alley over there, almost knocked me over," Dahni said, pointing to another alley a few yards away. "May I ask what's going on?"

"Classified information, young man," the justicar said. "All you need to know is to steer clear of the main thoroughfare between New Prahv and Vizkopa."

"Good thing I just need to do some shopping, then," Dahni said, smiling. He turned back towards the shopping district.

"Wait a minute," the justicar said. He scrutinized the back of the vedalken boy's cloak.

"Sir?" Dahni looked over his shoulder.

"How'd your cloak get so torn up?"

Dahni stumbled over his words. "Well, my family doesn't have a lot, and I've had it for a while. It was my older brother's before it was mine, you see, and it's been mended quite a bit, and…" Dahni mentally cursed. He was caught. He knew it.

"Here you go, kid," the justicar said, tossing a few gold coins Dahni's way. "Get yourself something better than that old rag." The justicar turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, Dahni ran down the alleyway he'd indicated to the justicar and ducked down a hole that led to House Dimir's main base of operations.

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Odom stood before Niv Mizzet in the dragon's audience chamber. The Firemind's glittering red and blue scales shone all the brighter for his good mood. Next to Odom, Sa'Raah stood proudly, a bright smile on her face.

"Glorious Firemind," Odom said cheerfully, "it brings me great pleasure to present to you the artifact my companion and I have sought. The object is a portal sphere, allowing travel between planes without crossing into the blind eternities."

"The Hellkite broods of the badlands have sworn their complete fealty to you, Dragonlord," Sa'Raah said.

"Excellent," Niv boomed. "The preparations are coming along well, I am sure, Sa'Raah."

"Certainly, Dragonlord. Along with the Hellkites at your command, I can use the sphere to bring in dragons from other planes to help maintain order. They won't be the speechless creatures this plane is familiar with, but beings as splendid as yourself."

"Of course," Odom said, trying to stroke the Firemind's ego as much as possible, "you will remain the most splendid of all the dragons."

"Dear boy," Niv chuckled, "I don't need to be reminded how amazing I am. You're starting to sound like Zarek when he comes to speak with me. That said, neither of you will go unrewarded for your work. As promised, Odom, the leadership of the Simic will be yours with an emphasized focus on restoring the lineage of my great species. Sa'Raah, I'll not forget your contributions either. Your place will be as my exclusive liaison between the draconic regime and the non-dragon population. I look forward to more news of your progress."

Sa'Raah beamed up at Niv Mizzet. He returned her smile with an almost fatherly one of his own.

"What would you like done with the portal sphere in the meantime?" Odom asked.

"Take it into my vault," the Firemind said. "We will carefully guard it until the time is right."

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"Dammit, not again," Dahni said, finding himself running through the streets once more. He'd resumed his customary male human form to investigate whatever it was that had caused such a ruckus earlier at Lazav's request. Dahni had found what he'd been looking for, the unresponsive bodies of several vampires who'd formerly worked for the Orzhov. Their minds, it seemed, had been undone and whoever had done it left no marks on the bodies.

"Halt!" a justicar called.

Dahni, to his credit, did not halt. He kept running, but found himself cornered.

"No way out," the justicar said, closing in. Dahni, for whatever reason, gripped the strange stone in his pocket. There had to be a way out. He could change into something, anything, to escape. More logical ideas like a bird or insect fled from his mind and he focused on the creature he'd seen in the stone, the bark elemental with glowing eyes. He reached inside of himself and pulled with his magic, feeling his skin stretching outwards and becoming rougher. Barky protrusions erupted from his face before Dahni felt the transformation faltering. He couldn't do it, but he had to. Dahni pulled again with his magic, willing himself to become the bizarre creature made of wood and stone and roiling mana. He screamed from the pain of stretching himself so thin.

The transformation failed once again and Dahni's magic rebounded onto himself, enveloping him in a bright blast of energy before taking him away to somewhere completely new.