Chapter 9

Welcome to my latest chapter for MTG The Next Titan, hope you all enjoy the chapter, but first reviews!

kazikamikaze24: Glad you are enjoying it, enjoy the chapter!

Now onto the story, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chandra

I keep throwing punches. The jolts pass up my arms, irregular, staccato. Gids's punchy-kicky bag of sand swings and wobbles under the blows. If he were here, he'd be telling me to pace myself, keep my arms straight, use short and controlled jabs, so I guess it's just too bad for me he's listening to that Consulate butt instead. Inventors' Fair? The hell!? They killed the best damn inventors on Kaladesh! Baan and his sort. The Consuls and their damn. Stupid. Rules! Now they're trying to hunt down somebody else. Someone else's kid. Maybe someone else's—*Fwoosh*

The canvas of Gids's punchybag bursts into flames.

"Oh crap!"

There's gotta be—he's gotta have water in here. He's like the king of eight glasses a day. I scan the room. Weights. Wrestle-y floor-pillow dealies. Big ball Damion and I aren't supposed to throw at Jace again. More weights. Rack of weird stuff he never explained. More different weights. There!

I slide across the table and grab for the bucket below the window. It smells funny. Maybe he soaks his head in it, I don't know. Just need the water. Behind me, the canvas bursts, and sand hisses across the floor. Oh, damn it.

I pour the bucket over flaming scraps of fabric. That's a big pile of mud. I wonder if it will ruin the floor? I stick the toe of my boot in and trace a line across the mess. Maybe I should make a sand castle.

I hate this. I hate the me that breaks nice people's crap. Even if Gids is being nice to one of the people who killed my— My eyes are stinging again. I drop the bucket and rub them. Sparks and embers drift away. Maybe Gids totally deserves it. Screw his punchybag.

Why am I even here? I don't belong here. I should go back to Regatha. Do that stupid ritual where you spend all night watching a log burn. Bit by bit it starts to glow. Red, orange, yellow, crawling up the bark. Flaring and fading down again. Then it turns grey and falls into ash. "This is what it means to be consumed by divinity," Mother Luti said. "Transformed." Old life falls away and blah blah blah.

Which divinity? Damion and the other Eldrazi? The guys who screwed over Gids? I can't believe in a god that burns everyone they touch. A god's gotta be better than that.

I remember the pool. Behind the power that shook the strength from my legs. It was there. I saw it. I swear I saw it. She was floating in green and I could breathe there. That's where I want to be. I need to be there. It's an itch I gotta scratch. Crawling up my spine and under my hair. Gotta go now.

My feet have already taken me to the door. No, stop. Can't just barge in and...I mean, weird, right? Rude. I don't want her to think I'm the sort that just breaks in and...all right, maybe I am the sort who does that, but I'm trying real hard to be polite now. I just need to take a few minutes to—

Damn it, I'm already up the stairs. And I'm stomping down the hall like a big freak because my legs are shaking and my brain is sizzling. This is stupid. I'm going to stop putting one foot in front of the other. I'm going to turn around. I'm going to tiptoe down the stairs real quiet, like a little baby mouse. Any second now. Damn it, Chandra, don't open that door. Stop gawping at the ginormous flowers that weren't here a month ago. Bad Chandra, no cinnamon pastry. Just turn around, go back downstairs, and never think of doing this agai—

"Chandra?"

FFFFFFFFF..."H-hey. Nissa? You in here?" Yeah, that's it. Casual. Smooth. Be all nonchalant, like Liliana. Nothing gets to Liliana.

"I mean, heh, 'course you're in here. 'Cause you just talked. I mean, uh, you got a minute? Maybe?" All right you can stop talking now.

"Yes. I'm behind the kass—behind the purple flowers."

My hands are shaking. I push branches aside and walk toward her voice. The leaves feel like sandpaper. Just a little farth—

She's sitting cross-legged on a patch of moss. Dark hair unbound, spilling in waves over her shoulders, trailing across her lap. She's woven little flowers around the crown of her head. Butterflies are dancing around her. She pays them no mind. A shaft of light through the leaves paints her in golden sun. She smells like anyone's best childhood memory.

She hasn't taken her eyes off me. Just sits. Listens. Waits. It's making me itchy and I think I'm sweating.

When was the last time I took a bath? Aren't elves supposed to have super dog noses or something?

Also, I'm standing bent over under a branch, holding leaves out of my face like a freaking idiot. "Uh. Can I sit?" I'm breathing through my mouth, fighting for air, struggling not to be loud about it.

"Please." She gestures. Her arm moves like water. Just sorta flows.

Then I manage to trip and fall on my face.

"Oh!" she reaches out, but her fingers seem to bounce off an invisible bubble a handspan away from me. "There's a root..." She pulls her hand back, cradles it with her other arm.

"I'm fine!" I blurt into the dirt, then roll on to my knees and grab my head to make sure I really am. Bleeding from my face would be super embarrassing during this conversation. "Are you fine?"

She cocks her head to the side. "I..."

"Ha-ha-ha! 'Course you are. Sorry. I'm the one who fell on her face." SHUT UP SHUT UP.

I try to sit like she is, but the armor on my shins digs into my thighs. I lean against a tree, stretch out my legs, cross them at the ankles. Wait! My feet are almost touching her knees. I shouldn't do that. She might not like that. I shift my weight, point them off to one side. Great. Now I have a root jabbing into my butt. She just watches me. Silent. Patient. I giggle and try to push the hair off my sweaty forehead. I'm steaming under her gaze, skin gone molten. "I think I'm crushing your flowers."

"They'll be fine." Her eyes are so deep. When I was a kid, there was this quarry outside Ghirapur. It had filled with water, and moss and floaty green stuff grew all over it. Deep, black, still. If you fell in, you'd never reach the bottom. That's what they said, anyways. I'm standing at the edge, too scared to jump.

She clears her throat. "Can we help with something?" She asked.

We? Maybe she has an elemental somewhere nearby?

I swallow, but my throat's dried up and it takes a few tries. "I—I just thought that... "You know that time on Zendikar, when our minds touched? I felt Zendikar's anger, right? The power of a whole world. Your world. And it was amazing. The most incredible thing ever. But behind Zendikar, behind the anger and the power, I felt you. Your mind. And it was real tranquil, you know? You kinda...centered me, I guess. You were all calm and connected-y."

Then my brain shuts off, but my mouth keeps walking over a cliff.

"When I touched that part of you, it was like when you're swimming, and you just lie back and float, looking up at the sky. Nothing below. Just blue and air above, and everything's cool and still. You can see forever, and don't have to worry..."

WHAT IS COMING OUT OF MY FACE?

I run a hand back through my sweaty hair. "Ha ha, wow. You must think this is dumb, huh? I come in here and start spouting bad poetry—"

The tiniest of smiles. "I thought it eloquent."

I grabbed a strand of my hair and yank until it hurts. "That will keep me focused, I bet." "Anyways. I was thinking there are times when I get super pi—uh, real angry, and usually something blows up. But I think I'd rather be able to touch that place again. What your mind felt like. Calm. Grounded. I mean..." I make the mistake of looking up and her eyes are just there, watching, and all the air in my throat jams up and refuses to move.

I struggle to pull in a breath. "I think Jace would prefer that. So I don't wreck his house. I mean, he's got this expensive stuff all over."

"I can teach you to meditate, if you wish."

"Uh, yeah." Let's go with that. Sounds good.

Her pencil-sketch eyebrows go all bendy. "Are you unwell? You seem anxious."

The entire garden is full of floaty sparkly silver things, I spent the last hour trying not to blow up Jace's house, and my heart's slamming against my ribcage like I just ran a marathon. I'M GREAT THANKS FOR ASKING.

Instead I blurt, "It's just, you've been staring at me this whole time."

"You're speaking to me. Should I not pay attention?" I swear her lip trembles. "Is this not—not polite on your world?" She looks away for the first time, and one hand tugs a grass-stem ear. The snow of her cheek is brushed with sunset color.

WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST SAY?

"Um." The new voice made me freeze, I look up and see Damion laying on one of the larger branches looking down at me, I suddenly realize what Nissa meant by we. "Do you want me to leave, cause this seems like it's getting personal?"

"Wha—uh, no! I mean...Sorry!"

I'm on my feet, slamming my head into a low branch. "Ow! S-sorry. This was dumb." I back away, clutching my head, pulling in my elbows to hide my burning eyes, stumbling over the same damn root, shaking, panting for breath, stomach churning. What did I do, what did I do, what did I do?

She's on her feet in the turn of a breath. "Wait."

"I made you feel weird. I should go. I'm just gonna go. Sorry. Bye. Sorry."

"Chandra, please..."

I turn and run, trailing sparks, trees and flowers smearing around me, banging through the door.

"...I think I'm gonna puke."

Nissa watched as Chandra ran and looked upwards at Damion who was sitting in the tree above them. Having been there from the beginning, since he and Nissa get together every two or three days to talk because if they didn't Gideon would put them a room again. "What the hell just happened?" Damion asked and jumped down.

"I believe I offended her in someway."

"She seemed more nervous than upset. She was getting pretty philosophical...maybe starring at someone for a long period of time means something different in on her Plane?

"Perhaps? I should make sure she is alright?"

"I'll join you."

"What a disaster," Liliana murmured. She leaned one hip against the door into Beefslab's gymnasium. After the scene downstairs, she'd expected fire damage. The sandcastle was a surprise.

Gideon's voice boomed from the stairs behind her, "Up here's where I exercise. I've been trying to train up Chandra and Jace, get everyone able to handle an actual weapon. You know. Just in case."

"I have every confidence it will prove equally fascinating as the rest of your facility," Baan replied, wearily.

BANG.

She startled, turning in time to see Chandra hurtle down past Baan and Gideon, a red-haired comet trailing embers from her eyes.

"SorryIblewupyourthingy," she said in passing, the words floating up from underwater.

Then she was gone, the thunder of her feet rumbling down the stairs.

"Careful! You might fall!" Gideon yelled down after her.

Liliana stepped into the stairwell and glanced upwards. Nissa looked down with hands clasped and fretting at her chest, lips parted with unvoiced confusion, long ears drooping. Damions eyes were wide with concern as his wings looked like they were aboit to snap open to fly after Chandra.

Liliana shook her head and started down the stairs. Someone had to clean up the mess. Chandra was easy to read. Too easy. Yet she commanded incredible power. A convenient combination.

The Gatewatch, minus Chandra, Liliana, and Jace, were gathered together with the Minister, Gideon called Nissas name a few times before Nissa actually seemed to realize someone was talking to her. She blinked at Gideon, momentarily baffled by his grunting beast-sounds—words, some part of her corrected—and by the club-shapes—fingers—waving before eyes that suddenly saw light instead of heat. "I..." He looked at her expectantly. Rain tapped against the windows of Jace's library. Her words came out broken and creaking, "I'm sorry, Gideon. What did you say?"

He showed his teeth. A grin. "Thought you'd fallen asleep for a minute."

"I was..." A flower struggling out of spring tundra half a world away, delighting in the first touch of the sun. She searched his kind and open face, but found no capacity for understanding. No context she could appeal to. No words that could explain. "...I was just thinking." She looked down at her lap, where a bowl of food sat untouched.

He speared a hunk of meat from his plate with a utensil—fork, she remembered—that was all but lost between his thick, calloused fingers. "I was telling Minister Baan what you did on Zendikar. You and Chandra."

Chandra. The blood surging hot through her freckled cheeks, the sharp, swift movements of her hands. They'd moved like birds. Nissa fed birds sometimes, in the garden. They would peer at the seeds cupped in her hand, hungry and needing, but fluttered off when she moved the wrong way. Or they attacked Damion...birds hwre don't like him for some unknown reason. She'd moved the wrong way, and Chandra had flown.

All her senses and instincts were off. Ravnica had beaten against her since she arrived, the hot, constant breath of a beast on the back of her neck. The sun was blinding white, the smells thick and unpleasant. Every surface seemed to have edges made to cut and tear.

An endless array of faces milled and circled the streets, strange and terrifying. More faces than she thought could ever exist. They melted into one another, became a single monstrosity with a thousand heads that jostled past her. A walk around the building left her sweaty and trembling. She had to crouch and study the lone flowers that struggled through the cracked cobbles, had to ignore the milling, noisy shapes that shoved and kicked and poked.

There was no silence. Discordant anvils rang by day. Endless banquets hissed and roared from a thousand ovens. The wail of sirens and the crackle of mana by night. A million voices constantly yelling and screaming, crying in pain and grief, lust and anger, overlapping in babble. She hadn't heard the shush of wind through trees for three months. She hadn't heard nothing.

The faces. The noise. The million and one unfamiliar smells that settled in the back of her throat to gag her. When it was too much to bear, she'd curl up in the garden, cover her ears, and the trees would hold her safe.

Everything here was hard, and bright, and sharp.

Chandra. Eyes like sunrises. Every passing thought writ bold across her face. Fearless.

"Oh, Zendikar, how did I offend her? What did I do?" But her friend—her best friend, her constant companion for two score years—couldn't answer. The corner of her mind where Zendikar had lived was silent and empty. "There's so much I don't understand. I wish you could be here."

She'd never been among so many, and never been so alone.

"Nissa?"

"Yes." She lifted a small red fruit from her bowl. Tomato, Jace called it. Taut skin flush with water, smelling faintly of acid. "What did you want to know?"

Baan laid his utensils across the edges of his plate at an angle so precise it hurt her eyes, then steepled his fingers. "Indulge my curiosity, if you will, Miss...Nissa." He frowned as the title made him hiss. "I am given to understand you have the ability to perceive and manipulate naturally occurring patterns of magic. Through the land, I believe?"

The golden filigree over his coat was ticking softly, a counterpoint to the clock on the far side of the room. She could hear energy within it sizzling and snapping, imperceptible to Gideon, and perhaps to Baan; his ears were as small as a human's.

"Leylines," she said. "Yes."

His nostrils pinched as he inhaled sharply. "A fascinating inversion. On my world, similar energies stream through the upper reaches of the sky. Aether, it is called. We siphon this power—on mountaintops or from thopters—store it within mechanical devices, and release it for various productive uses. Do people do the same on your world?"

Dagger-blade stones floating in the air, bending the world. A web, a cage...a lattice.

A wave of nausea passed through her. "No," she said to her bowl, shoulders drawing inwards. "Some did, but they..." The tales piled up against the back of her teeth. Where could she even begin? "The land isn't—we ask. We don't take."

"Ask?" Baan echoed, turning the word sideways in his mouth. "Ask whom? Your leylines are naturally occurring phenomena, surely?" His voice thinned with saline contempt. The shape of his eyes changed, tissues settling into harsh angles. "Would you ask the mountain for its kind permission to shape the iron at its root? Would you beg the tree for the fruit that sustains you?"

"Yes," she said, and nothing more. She placed the tomato in her mouth and bit down. The water flooded out—the sharp light of a white sun beating down, rows of dark earth spiced with the remains of those gone before; gently tilled lanes, the hush of elves and dryads swaying among them; tilting cans to set brief, borrowed rains tapping and shivering down leaves.

A lifetime carried in a mouthful of sweet flesh. Months of patience. Thank you, she thought, and swallowed.

Gideon shifted in his chair, leaning forward, subtly placing himself between them. "Minister, things are...different on Nissa's world."

"I see." Baan then looked at Damion, "And what about you Mr. Damion? Do you posses any unique abilities?"

Gideon was about to interrupt but Damion spoke, "Oh yeah, my mom taught me lots of things! She taught me how to fight, use magic, and drain the mana out of-" A vine wrapped around his mouth preventing him from speaking more. All eyes went to Nissa.

Before anyone could say anything Gideon spoke up, "Sorry, but um...we can't have all our secrets be revealed now can we?" He said hoping Baan believed it.

"I see, my apologies."

The heavy door at the far end of the room opened, and Jace trudged out looking drained. Lavinia drifted into his wake. When he muttered, "I could really use drink," she pushed a mug of tea into his hand, its steam fragrant with lemon, hibiscus, and several herbs Nissa didn't recognize. He blinked. "How did you know to...?"

"It's my job to anticipate you, Guildpact," she said, crisply. "Should I get someone to reheat your dinner?"

"No. Thanks, Lavinia." He pulled a chair out—old oak, dark and worn from years of sun. Nissa wondered where the chair had come from. It was far older than the house. The life it had held was just a whisper now, a shadow cast on a cloudy day.

Jace's plate contained some yellow-white mass involving cheese and grains. Even cold, she could smell it from the far side of the room. He frowned. "Did they put broccoli in this?"

"You need iron," Lavinia said.

"I hate—"

"You won't even notice it's there." Her voice brooked no argument.

Baan regarded him coolly. "You were bullied as a child."

Jace coughed on his first mouthful of food and struggled to swallow. "I, uh, don't remember my childhood." A dozen unvoiced thoughts flickered behind his eyes.

The Kaladeshi raised his brows. "One need not consciously recollect an event to fall into habitual behaviors determined by the experience. It is not inconceivable that one could forget their entire life. I would safely wager that were that the case, the subject would still tend to make similar lapses of judgement, and would be drawn to associate with the same sorts of people." He waved a hand, the swish of an ox's tail dismissing flies. "The nature of mortals is not so malleable as some would naively suppose. A person of religious inclination will always find something greater than themselves to place their faith in. A criminal will forever remain a criminal."

Jace put his fork down. "That's a very...deterministic point of view, Minister."

Baan blinked, first one eye, then the other. Not a wink, but some form of body language unique to him, unlike any Nissa had seen before. "The mortal corpus, even the mind, is merely a series of sophisticated mechanisms. It is simplicity itself to observe a mechanism in action, and draw appropriate conclusions."

There was a moment of silence. "Mortals are weird." Damion states before eating what seemed to be some kind of meat.

Jace cleared his throat. "Did you enjoy the tour?"

Nissa looked down at her food. She plucked out a piece of steamed fish with her fingers and let the flavor melt across her tongue. Quicksilver bodies flickering under green shadows. The grit of suspended peat, the faint tang of metal. It was not her first language, but there all the same. Thank you, she thought. I will use what you've given with wisdom.

Baan's chair creaked as he settled back. "There are a number of structural and organizational deficiencies I believe it best you be made aware of. The load-bearing beams on the lowest levels are cracked. Application of sufficient force would cause them to give way. The arrangement of furniture in most of the bedrooms is inefficient, leaving many "pockets"—if you will excuse the imprecision of the term—of floor space too small to make practical use of. There are seventeen books that were returned to incorrect shelves in this library. A number of lamps on the second floor lack appropriate protection from drafts..."

"Maybe I should write this down," Gideon said, with a lopsided smile.

"I'll remember it all," Jace said.

Baan paused. "I am given to understand that the incident within Mister Gideon's gymnasium was the responsibility of a pyromancer in your employ?"

"'Employ' might be too strong a word."

"Regardless of the particulars of your arrangement, the lack of appropriate precautionary measures is deplorable. You possess a library of admirable scope and selection. To a pyromancer, this is merely so much kindling. If a conflagration were to start in here—"

"I have...differences with Chandra, but I trust her to..." Jace paused. "Where is Chandra?"

Nissa looked up. Chandra's usual seat at the table was empty.

Gideon shrugged. "I've been looking for her myself. We need to have a talk about proper care of other people's equipment. Last I saw, she was running down from the roof—" Her breath caught. "—and Liliana was following her."

Jace looked up sharply. Lavinia, standing watch by the door, cleared her throat. "Guildpact. Permission to report?"

"What? Yes!" Jace turned entirely around in his chair. "You know where they are?"

Lavinia straightened, almost imperceptibly. "Some time ago, Captain Jura requested I have someone follow Countess Vess when she leaves."

Jace glared at Gideon, who shrugged. "Necromancer. Only prudent." He put another forkful of steak in his mouth.

Lavinia shifted weight to her other foot, setting her armor to humming, a tone no one else in the room could hear. "She contacted Monk Nalaar—"

Baan leaned forward in his chair. His eyes narrowed.

"They spent the afternoon wandering the market district, then, ah...planeswalked."

"Together?" Jace asked.

"Yes, sir."

Gideon put down his fork. "Where to?"

"No way for us to know, sir."

"Nalaar," Baan said, softly. He pronounced it with the same enunciation Chandra used, and none of the others had ever quite managed to reproduce. "You must excuse my consternation. That is a name I have not heard for many years."

Jace pushed his plate aside and laid his hands on the table. "I need you to explain that."

"I would not say it is my pleasure to do so, but I do believe it is my obligation." Baan folded his hands in his lap. "Pia and Kiran Nalaar were early luminaries of the renegade movement. They were criminals, I regret to say, engaged in the theft and unlawful redistribution of Consulate aether resources."

"They're relatives of Chandra's?" Gideon asked. "I didn't even know she was from Kaladesh..."

"Her parents, unless I greatly miss my guess. Twelve years ago, they compelled their daughter—her name was not recorded—to assist in their smuggling operations. I am not familiar with the details, but the girl escaped custody when she manifested dangerous pyromantic abilities. The Nalaars attempted to hide in the countryside. A manhunt brought them to ground in Bunarat, but during the attempt to take them into custody, the village was set ablaze. All three were reported dead by the officer in charge."

"Twelve years?" Gideon said, aghast. "But she's only—!"

"She would have been a child," Nissa said, softly.

Baan opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked inward, tapping his fingers on the filigree covering his sleeve. "Please understand," he said at last. "This was performed under the authority of a previous administration. Even then, these actions were considered...extraordinary. The officer in charge of the investigation pursued despite an official recall. I believe formal charges were brought against him for the expense."

"For the expen—!" Jace sputtered.

"I don't know what her parents did," Gideon said, his mouth a hard line. "I don't much care, either. Whatever their sins were, they had nothing to do with Chandra." His eyes narrowed. "Is she impulsive? Sure. I'd be stupid not to say that. But her heart's the size of the moon."

Baan laced his fingers and rested his chin on them. "Mister Gideon, aether is in the very air we breathe. It is in the rain that falls to earth, and in the leaves of the trees. We only dare touch such power through the gloves of artifice; a million pieces of instrumentality, each safely performing its assigned function. By rigorous adherence to this method, we avoid 87.4% of the accidents provoked by mages drawing upon mana directly. If you will forgive me for saying so, pyromancers are particularly prone to...collateral damage." Baan inhaled slowly, fuchsia eyes darting around some image that only existed in his thoughts. "In the past, pyromancers have precipitated...terrible tragedies. Not always by their intent, but universally by their nature."

"So have you outlawed matches?" Gideon asked, with a severity Nissa hadn't heard from him before.

Baan lowered his eyes. "May I assume, based upon your reactions, that Miss Nalaar never spoke to you of this?"

"Not a word," Gideon said. He stared at his unfinished meal, one hand curling into a fist.

Jace looked at him sympathetically, "She didn't confide in any of us."

Gideon shook his head slightly. "But she should have felt that she could."

"That was her choice to make. Not ours," Nissa murmured. She laid a fingertip along the rim of her bowl and slid it down, setting the pottery to ringing. "We all have scars we don't want others to touch."

"Some more than others." Damion said quietly.

Chandra had sat across from her, cheeks burning, twisting flower-stems around her fingers, asking for nothing more than a moment of peace. For something that could slow the frantic, bird-like stammer of her heart. But she'd moved the wrong way. Chandra had fluttered and flown.

"If I may inquire," Baan said, "Where do you suppose she might have gone? Surely she could not be so rash as to depart for Kaladesh."

Nissa looked up. Jace and Gideon were exchanging a look. Both glanced at her.

They stood as one.

Jace turned toward the coat room. "I'll head to Kaladesh. It should be easy for me to—"

Lavinia appeared in his path, one hand resting on the pommel her sword. "Again?" she said, in a weary, disappointed tone.

He frowned up at her. "You can't expect me to sit here and do paperwork!"

She nodded to Gideon and Nissa. "They can find Monk Nalaar. They can't be the Guildpact. And I believe that Damion is already going there."

Gideon laid a meaty hand on Jace's shoulder. "She's not wrong. Think of the bigger picture, Jace. I can take this one. Although," he winced, "I'm not looking forward to it. You know how she gets when someone tells her what to do..."

Kaladesh. Ghirapur. A city of brass and industry. Like Ravnica, a place that never slept, where the wind smelled of metal and cracking energies, and ceaseless tides of mortal faces buffeted to and fro. An ocean of strangers, gawping and whispering at her. Staring. Pointing. Shoving.

"I'll go." The words had flown before she'd thought them.

Gideon turned to her. "Are you sure?" His eyes drifted down to her trembling fingers. "Nissa, you don't have to go alone."

She balled her hands into fists, stilling them. "I will go to Kaladesh. Baan can guide Damion and I. I'll..."

What? Bring Chandra home? She was home. Get her out of trouble? She was a woman grown. She could do as she pleased. Protect her? Chandra's heart was a baloth. She needed no champion.

"...I'll stand with her." It felt right.

Damion grinned, "Looks like you have to lead her as well." He said Looking at the Baan. "And if anything happens I can take care of it with ease." The purple markings appear on his body for a moment before disappearing.

Gideon nodded, "Alright, but be carful, you don't know whet will be there."

Damion nodded and turned to Nissa, "Ready when you are."

Nissa gave a small smile, happy she wouldn't be going alone.

The three Planswalkers appeared on Kaladesh, the members of the Gatewatch thanked Baan for guiding them here before Nissa went to search for Chandra and Liliana. Damion however closed his eyes and used his powers to search for any Planeswalkers on the Plane. There were quite a few so he told Baan he would investigate them and report back when finished.

"This place is so full of energy yet they limit their own use of it, this Plane has more than enough to go around." Damion said to himself as he pulled information from people walking by him. He was currently walking in the direction of the nearest Planeswalker spark he didn't recognize.

"Don't try and understand their motives." Spoke a female voice inside his head, "Like most, the leaders appear to want it all for themselves."

"Yeah, I guess." He glanced at a few nearby automatons, "This place it to machine like for my liking." He paused when a Gearhulk walked by, "I take it back, this place might actually be fun after all."

"Don't forget why you are here Damion. Your friends are somewhere in the city."

"I didn't forget mom." He replied. "I just want to get a feel for this place before I look, besides I'm sure they don't need my help just yet, plus I actually have a job to do right now anyway. The Planeswalker should be somewhere nearby." Damion walks by a few people who seemed to be presenting something and he wanted to take a closer look, he took a few steps closer before something grabs his wrist and lifts up up off the ground. Since he was still physically 13, Damion was pretty easy to pick up in his human form, especially by a large automaton.

"What the hell do you think you're doing kid!?" Screamed an angry man next to the automaton.

Damion blinked a few times, "I just wanted to get a better look at what that was." Damion says pointing to the machine, "Can you let me go now? Your machine is hurting my wrist."

"How about I have it throw you out of the fair for trying to sabotage me!?"

"Annoying pest, it seems he will need someone to teach him some manners." Spoke the Eldrazi Titan.

"No, I can do it, I just wanted to see how strong the machine was." Damion said as the purple marking on his body appeared for a second before fading.

"What the hell are you talking about!?"

"Sorry I wasn't talking to you." Damion said looking at the man.

"Then who were-" The man stopped when Damion revealed his demonic features and grinned. His hand grabbed the machine and ripped the mechanical arm off of him. He lunged forward tore into the machine with his claws and teeth with no hesitation, shredding it to pieces. The man took a step back only to stop when a black spear was held against his throat by a VERY angry Avacyn.

Standing where the automaton was a moment ago was Damion grinning at his handiwork, he turned to look at the man who stepped back in fear. The man would have run but the small Angel pressed the blade of her spear into his neck a bit more. His eyes were glowing an unearthly purple color, the man tried to move away but he seemed frozen in place, nothing in his body would work. He looked down at his arm before it started to mutate with purple tentacles. The mutation spread slowly up the mans arm, his eyes darted around at the people walking by, nobody seemed to even notice what was happening. The mutation soon started acting on its own and wrapped around the mans neck choking the life out of him, a few moments later he fell to the ground as his body reverted back to normal.

Damion smiled as his eyes turned back to normal, his demon features disappeared as Avacyn put her spear away, "Come Damion, let's see what this Plane has to offer, and find your friends as well."

Damion smiled, "Okay!" He said happily. The Eldrazi and mini Arc Angel walked away from the dead inventor, not a moment later the area was filled with screams in horror as the body was discovered. Little did the people know that this was only the beginning. Starting soon, things on Kaladesh were going to change.