As a disclaimer: I do not own, nor make any money from anything I post on this website. This is a fun exercise and a creative outlet used for practicing my craft. There are also dark themes and trials that the characters within must overcome or fail. So, if you are sensitive to that kind of story, you've been warned to turn away here.
Chapter 1 - Fallen
Sorin Markov's anguished face darkened as he raised his sword to point towards his creation. "But Avacyn… You can be destroyed." He turned his head and began his incantation.
Was it remorse or pride that kept his gaze away? Shame or anger? The burning archangel could not tell. The world around her turned to ash and fire, distorting into a smoky haze. Realizations dawned upon her like a hammer hitting an anvil. Creatures she believed were monsters weren't in truth, that her misguided holy mandate had initiated a bloodbath. She looked down at her bloodied hands to see them crumble away into smoke. Unanswered questions repeated at the back of her mind like the constant buzzing that always accompanied her these days.
Here, at the end of her life, Avacyn found her mind focused on her personal failings. Her captivity, inside the Helvault which nearly brought an end to Thraben, then the subsequent slaughter of her people by her hands. It was her mission to protect them, how had she got so bent out of shape that she was now the monster? The clarity it brought to her made a small part within her relieved that she would cease to exist. Here where she was created. There was no escaping this fate, for her sins were too great and terrible for forgiveness.
The blackened shadow on the floor of her arrival now dragged her to her knees. There upon where her face would have been, a shard of stained glass bore her blank visage. The ideal portrait of an archangel's intent, now contrasted by what she became in the end. A thousand years of good deeds, overturned by a few months of evil. The buzzing sounds rose to a crescendo, as laughter and screams echoed within. Sorin's two magical assaults tore her to shreds, wave after wave of nausea and madness, and the direct annihilation of his unmaking spell. The coils of mana crawled through her wings, inching towards her spine. His magic ripped something from within her, leaving behind a void within her heart. Moments of time prolonged with excruciating agony began to fade with the conclusion of his incantation, devouring her senses away one by one until she felt nothing at all. No more pain, no more suffering. A small mercy undeserving though she may be. She reached out as her arms disintegrated, and as fire alongside necrosis surged through her body, she whispered.
I am Avacyn. I am to protect.
The scent of blood and ashes no longer filled her nostrils, the foul taste of death and decay had ceased. A familiar longing overtook everything inside her; to be far away from here, high in the sky like the old days, alone and floating on the chilly mountain breeze. Things seemed much clearer then, when the days and nights' work was as satisfying and pure as the holy water in the cisterns of the cathedral. It was far better than the muck that seemed to choke her these days.
It took a moment for Avacyn to open her eyes, never realizing they were closed to begin with. Before her were three luminescent stars haloed by a large ring of light. Everything was still and serene, the clouds were painted a rich and vibrant magenta against the blue sky. The light of dusk spoke a swift and poignant farewell to the world. A gargantuan sized tree trunk cascaded from the mist veiled horizon to the heights of the empty skies above. Gravity took hold of her again and she plummeted towards the snow-capped mountaintops below. Everything spun as her limbs failed to cooperate. The wings on her back wouldn't obey as she tried to catch the wind underneath them, every attempt to balance herself again was met with a merciless flip and twist, causing pain to sear through the muscles in her wings. Her battle with Sorin had left her with many wounds and bruises, which had taken away any graceful turnaround. Bursting through the clouds, Avacyn raced the flakes of snow, and she was winning.
In her growing panic, she reached for her mana, the magic of which she was composed of, and her spine spasmed in shock at the call. Pins and needles erupted over her skin in a fury too sharp to describe. As the pain peaked, coupled with the recent blood loss from the vampire's bite, she briefly lost consciousness. The ground continued to hurl itself up towards her in welcome at her intrusion.
Each time she tried to summon her magic, the pain escalated, and she passed out only to recover moments later. As she fell closer and closer to her death, her spinning slowed and evened out to where all she saw was the cloudy sky and its strange light. The snow seemed to fall upward towards their origin. She knew she was distracting herself at this point, not wanting to think about what was coming.
A silhouette appeared on the star, drawing her attention. The shadow in the sky burst forth wings and tucked them in again. The shape grew larger as it came closer, and soon Avacyn could distinguish its features. It was another angel, she had long red hair tied in intricate braids that circled her body. The angel's eyes burned with an intensity Avacyn had only witnessed in another's eyes recently, but the fire in this angel's eyes was that of purpose, not rage. Thick furs sprouted from her pauldrons, and she had a long thin horn strapped to her waist. Her white wings were infused with an internal purple fire, glowing with an intense ambient magic. A billowing skirt trailed behind her as she dove, and one of her free hands was outstretched to catch her.
Avacyn extended her own trembling hand, beckoning the unrecognizable angel closer. Hope swelled for a moment, followed swiftly by grief and anger. Images of her faithful followers flashed to the forefront of her thoughts. Delusions of grandeur, a corrupt purpose, she could see it all so clearly now. Why had it not been so before? She didn't deserve to be saved, not by this angel, not by anyone. She slaughtered those people, inciting her angels to it as well. Avacyn glanced to the side, where her blood-stained wings flailed uselessly beside her, the blood of those who had trusted her tipped the edges of her feathers. She had red tar seeping through her, its darkness corrupting every light that could have given others hope instead. Whatever hope she had in her heart, died within the lump in her throat and the tears in her eyes. She retracted her hand just before she hit the trees.
Leaves and branches whipped her face, arms, legs, and caught her wings, yanking their muscles out of place. The snow that was sitting on branches flung itself into the air in a spray of ice and slush. Cracked ribs lit up with each branch. She spun until she lost all sense of direction. A sickening thud and a splash resounded in her head, and everything stopped moving. Birds cawed from miles around as they fled from my sudden appearance, and then after a moment, silence. She laid there in the mud, covered in pine needles and snow. The whiplash of such a magnitude caused her to black out again.
Avacyn awoke briefly to a piece of ice pushed against her face. Her one open eye looked around her, assessing her surroundings. It was now in the pitch black of night. She was halfway stuck in a stream, puffy flakes of snow threatened to blanket her completely. Each breath she took puffed out a small cloud dispersing into mist before vanishing. The muscles in her back swelled and she knew that her back would be black with bruises for a while. She couldn't move her arms, legs, or her wings, for she was stuck in the mud banks, and within the weight of her armor she couldn't budge. She couldn't move, and even when she shifted slightly, all she felt was agony. It was a prison of pain and misery. She never felt the cold before, but here it seemed to permeate everything around her.
The silence was broken only by the soft crunching of footsteps in the snow, a fluttering of wings, and distant murmurs of unintelligible words. By the flakes of snow drifting onto her eyelashes, she understood that she had survived. She lost the will to stay awake after that.
The fires raged once more, the buzzing in her head echoed, and she could hear herself laughing, which was eerie. A circle of moonsilver glass wreathed in her church's symbolic collar appeared in the darkness, floating silently above still gray waters. Inside the mirror was an unfamiliar pair of eyes, they were darkened by the bloodlust, wreathed in inky black eyelashes. Its black lips cracked in an unworthy smile. Blood splattered its ivory white cheeks, and its long white hair was drowning in the blood of its victims, those hands and wings painted to match. This thing wasn't supposed to be her. It was all wrong, everything about this version of her was wrong. She gripped flimsy hands onto the edge of the mirror, yelling empty threats into the void at her own reflection, which turned and circled a town of innocent people. The very act of its flight was superior to those stuck upon the ground beneath its gaze. Extending an open palm, it rained down potent moonlight to smite the humans where they stood. Pure euphoria surged in its heart, consuming the fear of the populace. Justice was served by its deeds against these evildoers. Wrath fulfilled by its hand extinguished the hope of the weak.
The seeds of men are rotten.
Avacyn stood there before the memories, transfixed. Those humans were demons in its eyes, but Avacyn could see the truth. They weren't demons at all, but it killed them anyway. Excuses. They were impure, so it had slaughtered them, ripping apart what was left of her soul with each kill. Joy and pleasure cascaded through the face of her shadow when it heard their cries of pain, for it was merciless in its so-called judgment. Avacyn's arms quivered, slipping off the moonsilver mirror to her side.
Chaos into order. Corruption into purity. Peace increases.
The reflection laughed at the tears of a dying child before a woman, at the life draining from the face of an impaled merchant, and the burning corpse of a family flailing ashes about in the throes of death. It was delighting in the torment of others, glorifying in the pursuit of slaughter, burning with a wrath unfounded. All in the name of order and purity. It wished for solitude, an eradication of all those pesky demons and monsters. Perfection meant that nothing could stand in its way.
All will burn. All will bleed.
The hum of rage and fury surged within Avacyn's beating heart, admonishing her reflection within the mirror. But what could she say? Her actions were already done, and if not for the vampire, she would have carried out even more horrendous acts of violence. She had no one to blame except herself. When there was nothing left to burn, it had soared over the burning buildings. Watching the other angels, proud of their handiwork. When it moved onto the next great cleansing, they chanted as one. All will burn. All will bleed. All will burn. All will bleed.
Voices that spoke of healing rose above the buzzing and Avacyn jerked back, splashing into the murky liquids beneath her feet. Realizing that it wasn't part of whatever was happening in the mirror, Avacyn searched for whatever caused the noise. Unintelligible words echoed from above. The voices unfamiliar began arguing amongst themselves. Her gaze shifted up to the blank darkness above where the voices might be coming from, but there was nothing. The voices were drowned out by another growing sound, screams. Looking down at her hands, blood seeped out of the gaps in her gauntlets and crept up her arms like snakes. The ends of her hair and feathered wings, which were dipped in blood, pulled her down into the bloody pool below. The blood bubbled up and grasped onto her feet with slimy reddened hands, faces beneath the surface screamed for justice. Screamed for mercy. Screamed for vengeance.
Avacyn tried to ignore the horrors below, and a voice called from beyond in the darkness above, a green light of foreign mana protruded from that darkness. The magic was warm, soothing as it spread throughout the darkness like the roots of a tree digging into dirt. All her worries melted away into apathy. The blood at her feet stilled. The throbbing became a numbness that coursed through her, and she fell onto blackened smoke instead of blood, drifting away into a false serenity. There, the horrors were held at bay, the memories ceased, and all became nothing as the buzzing receded into the depths of her mind.
It was the creak of a bed frame that woke Avacyn from her forced slumber. The room was unfamiliar to her. She was covered in thick blankets, laying on her side on a sturdy wooden bed. Her wings felt constrained, and when she tried jostling them a bit, they were held tight by bandages. She sat up far quicker than she should have, and felt a wicked headache creeping in. Avacyn took a deep breath only to find that her broken ribs prevented her from taking a full breath. Her armor was replaced by a green tunic and brown trousers. The room itself smelled of hay, wood, smoke and many other unpleasant things. It was lit by an orange glow from a small, hooded lantern that hung upon the visible framework. Seeing that small flame threatened to resurface memories that she wasn't ready to confront yet, so she bottled them up and stuffed them deep inside her mind, hoping to one day forget those horrible things ever happened. The wind battered the closed shutters, and flakes of snow snuck in only to melt at the warmth on the ground. How easy it was for the snow to be destroyed, but not her, who had to live on.
A grunt of exertion escaped her lips as an unexpected surge of rage welled up inside her chest. It caused her neck to throb slightly where Sorin bit her into submission, the bastard. Avacyn gently caressed the bandaged wound, careful not to break any of her scabs. She found that she nearly had her entire torso covered in compression bandages, ointments, and gauze. The constraints likely there to keep her from moving too much, the pain was bearable and likely subdued by either magic, medicine, or a combination of the two. Where was her magic, and why wasn't it healing her? Sorin may have cracked her ribs in their fight, but the trees and the ground shattered them. Their fight was brief and brutal, so she forced those memories down as well.
To make matters worse, her hair color seemed to have changed as well. It was no longer a pure white. Where it had been stained by blood, a dark and gritty silver color had revealed itself. Avacyn was relieved that the blood was gone, but her cheeks burned with shame. Avacyn, like her hair, was no longer pure, visibly stained in soul and body. It would be a reminder of her sins for the rest of her days.
Something squeaked, drawing her focus. She reflexively jumped out of the bed to meet the danger, causing a few short bursts of pain, but it was only a shuttered window's latch unhooking itself by a thin finger. It opened and dark mists sauntered its way into the room, a familiar face materialized, followed by his body. His transformation was over in moments and his leather overcoat ruffled into place, the tasseled ends of it swaying like tendrils of a monster. His silver armor beneath the coat gleamed in the candlelight, adorned by a blazoned ruby. The tiny light cast a deep shadow over most of his deathly pale face, and yet his yellow irises glimmered in the darkness like two tiny golden rings. He closed the window behind him, disturbing the air as flakes of snow circled around him.
"Good. You are in one piece," Sorin whispered. "Are you alright?"
Avacyn glared at him, refusing to answer and sitting back down on the bed. She furrowed her brows, her thoughts racing. She had knowledge of other-worlders, planeswalkers she believed their official title was, and that they could travel between worlds. But that wasn't her calling. She was to stay and protect Innistrad, from even those planeswalkers if need be, she couldn't have that power. Yet here she was, on a plane she didn't recognize. Burdened with yet another world if Sorin had his way.
"I wish to be brief," he said, "so I can't stay long. I hope I didn't hurt you too badly, child." He stepped further into the candle's light revealing more of his features. His yellow eyes surrounded by blackened sclera weren't so menacing in the light, conveyed an odd expression of worry, feigned though it was to her. There was no chance that Sorin, a vampire, would truly feel worried about her.
"I am still not your child, you monster." He recoiled a bit at that, it was subtle, but she caught it.
He clenched his hands into fists. "No, just your creator," he muttered.
Avacyn turned to watch the candle. The fire within was undisturbed by wind and sat still on its wick. It flickered ominously as she stared at it, and she heard screams in the back of her mind. Everyone she had killed laid claim to her soul, twisting her guts. Visions of each face revealed themselves in that fire and each one burned away into ash until it began again. The pain in her ribs was nothing compared to the torment of reliving her sins.
"I thought you had killed me," she closed her eyes as she felt tears forming.
"I didn't, I…" he paused, lowering his voice, "I couldn't. I made you indestructible for a purpose, and I had intended to keep you safe. I still do." His steps moved towards the barn doors, and he slid one open a crack, letting in the chilling winter air. "Your hosts have adequate magic, I'm glad they took you in and healed your wounds," he said, unbothered by the cold.
"Wounds you gave me," Avacyn growled, opening her eyes again. "Where are we? I know this isn't Innistrad, it's too bright."
"This plane… I feel like I've been here before, but I could be mistaken. There are plenty of snow-covered planes out there in the multiverse. You'll have to ask your hosts in the morning," he said.
What secrets was he hiding? Would he answer her questions or clam up and flee? "On Innistrad, you said I could be destroyed, yet here I am. Alive. Now you say I'm 'indestructible', so which is it?"
He closed the door, apparently satisfied. "There were witnesses at the chapel, who I didn't deem worthy of involving in our… situation. The boy would have been a nuisance, always butting into affairs he has no business in. If he and his friends knew you lived, you would never have any peace. I manipulated them, and others you're unaware of, into believing you were dead."
Avacyn nodded in understanding. His face was impassive as ever, but the fact that he was still talking said volumes to her. He wasn't normally this cooperative and Avacyn wanted to see where he'd draw the line.
"How did I get here? I'm not one of you trespassers," she said.
Sorin's face shifted, like he was wrestling with himself, searching for words. Everything he did was subtle, barely a hint of expression on his face. Quick and decisive. He stepped forward, about three to four paces from the bed and a nervousness Avacyn hadn't ever felt before welled up within her. "Long ago," he began, "I crafted you from a large part of my essence. My magic. My entire being. With that magic I also pulled from the depths of Innistrad's leylines. From this mixture I shaped you and the Helvault as the penultimate shield for the protection of Innistrad. You were meant to be my hand in aiding the humans' survival, while the Helvault was to veil Innistrad from outside forces. It was difficult, and it left me weary, but my primary goals were finally complete." He poured out words that shook Avacyn to her core, but he wasn't finished.
"During your creation, I was able to break off a small piece of my planeswalker spark and hide it within you. You aren't a planeswalker like I am, not in the traditional sense. I designed it so that when your connection to Innistrad and its leylines was ever broken, the shard of my spark within you would activate and send you through the blind eternities. Where you ended up was based on your thoughts and feelings, so I have no idea where we are."
"Why?" Avacyn asked. She bowed her head realizing the full ramifications of what he said. This severance from Innistrad caused her powers to weaken, if not vanish altogether. "Why would you do this to me?"
Sorin placed a hand on her shoulder. "To keep you safe from anything I couldn't protect you from. This was a way for you to escape, to preserve you until the danger had passed. If this happened while I was away, I would know about it, and come find you."
"But you were the one who attacked me. You were the one to send me away. You should have killed me, not exiled me," Avacyn said.
"I know, I hadn't anticipated using it this early in your life. But you were killing the people you were created to protect," Sorin said.
Avacyn's eyes blazed in anger, and those pins and needles returned. "What happened to me before I arrived here? Why did I do those horrible things? Why would I choose to kill…" Her ragged breath prevented her from finishing that line of thought. Her hands covered her face in shame and the pain receded.
Sorin had both hands on her shoulders now and he knelt to meet her at eye level, like she was a child to be comforted. It was strange to see such humanity from this monster. But she supposed that even Sorin was human at one point. "I believe," he said, "that when I made you, I put forth much of my bodily strength and magic within you, which protected your body. But I neglected to reinforce your connection to the plane of Innistrad. I realized that mistake far, far too late. And when the lithomancer transformed the leylines, you changed alongside them. She had unknowingly corrupted a major part of your mind because you were made from a part of Innistrad. So, to save you from yourself and others, I severed that connection."
He stood up straight in the midst of his explanation, removing his hands from her shoulders. "Who is this lithomancer? What does she have to do with any of this? Did I do something to her?" With the revelation of someone else present in the midst of all her turmoil, Avacyn felt a moment of anger at this person, and a small hope to place any blame on her. But after a moment, she knew she couldn't do that, for it'd be wrong. This lithomancer didn't kill those people, Avacyn did.
"She is not your concern, but mine," he said through gritted vampire teeth. Avacyn recoiled at the sudden display of pure emotion. It wasn't subtle at all, but then he hid it behind his mask of indifference. He took a deep breath.
"She is my concern, since she might have caused whatever happened to me. My head is all mixed up with things I don't like, things I can't describe with words." She clutched at her temples, hoping to blot out the bloodlust and shame.
Sorin's voice was firm but quiet. "She did this to hurt me, not you. I don't think she even intended to do it to you."
Avacyn took a breath but stopped when her ribs ached. "Why didn't you just kill me and be done with me?" she whispered, unable to hide her sorrow, nor the quiver of her lips. "You clearly have the power to do so. I've caused you and everyone else on Innistrad more than enough pain! I don't deserve this chance at life." She tried to keep a tear from burning her cheeks by squeezing her eyes shut, but she failed. When the first of them fell, the dam broke, releasing a wave of tears she never knew she could possess until tonight.
Avacyn felt one hand on hers, and a finger caressed the back of her hand while the other grasped her cheek. The gentle touch seemed foreign compared to the violent display before her arrival here.
"Avacyn…" he said. "Are you alright?"
"Why would you care?" She couldn't hide the venom in her voice, nor did she care to.
"Because… I do." He glanced at the bandage on her neck. She turned away from his gaze, breaking away from his touch. "Are you… Afraid of me?" He asked.
"Who wouldn't be after what you did to me," she said, her voice cracking involuntarily. "What I did."
"Child I-"
"I liked it," Avacyn croaked. His eyes widened as she sat up straight. "Killing all those people, those demons! That's what they were to me. I was doing what I thought was for the good of Innistrad! But as it turns out, I was wrong! I'm a monster. Exactly as you, a monster, made me to be." She wrapped her arms around her knees, ignoring the pain in her ribs, reveling in it, for she deserved worse. "You should kill me. End my life so I can't hurt anyone else ever again."
The void in her chest gripped her heart like a vice. Its tendrils of weight seemed to pull her down into the muck even further, and tears continued to flow unbidden. The loss of control made her bury her eyes into her knees, each sob jostled her ribs causing more pain to burn inside her, but she didn't care. She longed for death, but it didn't come for her.
"This isn't you," he said. There was a hint of sorrow in his voice. "This is her doing."
"No, you monster!" Avacyn snarled. "This is me! Finish what you started on Innistrad."
He stood up and inhaled a deep breath as if resigned. He slid his blade out of its sheath and raised the point of the blade to her chest, and a sudden thought occurred to her, that she wished that she was wearing her armor. "Very well, I granted you the right to live and you spat in my face. I will take back the shard to my spark now, child." The sword sank in an inch into her skin, but it never cut her body. His magic pulled at the void, pooling around to where the point of his sword was. Intense flames that didn't burn gathered there, and saturated her body into a bright white light, setting the room alight much brighter than the small candle's flame.
Smoke and ashes. Pain and sorrow. The previous spell he cast seemed mild in comparison. Part of Avacyn wanted to let go and let him take what he was owed so that she could die. But a smaller part revolted. The sense of duty that she still prioritized for the protection of Innistrad burned even hotter. Avacyn wasn't the symbol of hope for the people of Innistrad anymore, but she couldn't abandon them, not again. She could not protect them if she was dead for good. She knew that she had to return and fulfill her duties, even if they hated her for it. The same sense of clarity had returned, with much greater force this time. These newfound emotions are what dragged her down and destroyed her will to live and she needed to find a way to erase them and get back to the way things used to be.
Avacyn batted the sword away, causing the magic to disperse. The momentum carried her off the bed and onto the floor, sending spasms of shock down her spine and into her wings. She found it hard to breathe, but her choice was made, even as the shadows of doubt crept back in.
"I thought you wanted to die?" He asked.
Avacyn got up onto her feet and met his monstrous eyes, yellow and black as they were. "I did. But I changed my mind. If I died here, you and all the other monsters on Innistrad would destroy my home and consume my people. I will return to Innistrad and destroy you all. You'll not take any more from me, vampire!" She said, pushing aside her emotions. The magic he had so easily yanked from her solidified within, now immovable. "You take my home from me, my magic? You will not take my soul!" Avacyn said, clenching her fists.
Sorin smirked like he had won a game, and she knew. This was just another manipulation. "It seems to me that you've renewed your purpose. To be honest, I had hoped you would. I'm relieved."
"I hate you." Avacyn said. "Leave me alone."
"Not yet, my child. Soon." He sheathed his sword and walked over to the window. "This temper of yours will get you into trouble," he said. "Rest and recover your strength. Then you can do as you wish. But you cannot return to Innistrad."
Avacyn perked up at this. "But I need to go back! I have nothing here, no purpose. If I can go back, maybe I can right my wrongs before it's too late."
He turned to face her. "You cannot atone for sins that aren't yours," he said.
"But they are mine! Their deaths are on me, their blood on my hands, not on anyone else's. If I could just…" A new thought appeared in her head. "With this spark I could return on my own! I don't need your permission." Avacyn searched for the spark within her to activate it, when a claw gripped her neck, and pushed her up against the wall. Avacyn grabbed a hold of his arm so as to not choke. He held her there with feet dangling just inches above the floor. His eyes burned with intensity, an inner light illuminating his yellow eyes as the rest of his face was veiled by the darkness. He was wreathed in black fog allowing him to levitate them both above the ground.
"You are testing my patience, child," he growled. He placed a fingernail on her forehead and sighed. "You are banished from Innistrad."
Avacyn started, almost losing her grip on his arm. "No…" she cried. "You can't."
"Not for forever," he said. Avacyn's heart lurched as faint clicking sounds like rotating gears thumped alongside her heart. "It is too soon for you to return. I have business to attend to." His magic almost felt like the Helvault all over again but in reverse. A cage that she remained on the outside of, preventing her from ever seeing her home again. This magic was intertwined with her soul, and she knew there was no hope of returning any time soon. He dropped her onto her feet after the magic locked itself into place.
"This… lithomancer, I presume?" She asked, rubbing her neck.
He nodded. "I have to find her, take her life, then repair the leylines so that this doesn't happen to you again when you return," he said. There was a twinge of hope in his voice, like her return was what he truly wanted. "It will take a lot of work, for both of us, but I have to act fast before whatever she's planning destroys all of Innistrad."
"I could help you, you know," Avacyn said quietly.
"No. You need your rest." He placed his hand on her shoulder, but she knocked it away.
"What do I do until you need me?" Avacyn asked, pulling herself back into bed.
"Train yourself. Strengthen your mind, body, and soul. I've granted you access to the multiverse. I can find you anywhere, just tug on my spark and I'll come find you when I can. In the meanwhile, gather knowledge that you could use to benefit Innistrad. There are many different cultures out there, learn about them, as I did. But if you ever want to be my archangel again, don't bond what little magic you have to any plane. Doing so would be catastrophic to your connection to Innistrad." He paused and turned away.
"Avacyn," he said. She was struck by his sudden use of her name. "You were meant to be better than I was. I put all of what I had and more into you. I may be the lord of Innistrad, but you could be far better than that. You're the beacon of hope for me and your people." As he had appeared, he vanished in mere moments in time. His body disintegrated into golden sparks and smoke. His words were almost heartfelt, which seemed odd coming from him, though everything about him tonight felt off. Did she have that effect on him, or was this all in her head?
There she was, alone in her thoughts again. Doubt and self-loathing crept in again. Her thoughts were renewed in fire, blood, and death. But also a tiny sliver of hope. The pain returned so she laid down again and stayed that way for hours. Unwilling to move. Unable to escape. Incapable of dying in peace.
Author's Note
Here is chapter 1 of Archangel Avacyn's Return. I hope you enjoyed reading it, though the themes are dark and angsty now, I hope to push through towards brighter days. As of right now, I'm working on finishing the first arc of five planned (Oh boy). Things may change along the way, but that's life as a writer. It will take a while (sorry), but I have each of them planned out and ready to go. I just need to persevere and write them out (oh the woes of the writer).