Chapter 19: Dark Deal

"I think he's finally coming to."

"Are you sure he's not just dead? I find it hard to believe that someone as scrawny as that could survive a hit from one of those beasts."

"Well, I'm no expert, but judging by the fact that his eyelids and nostrils are still twitching, I'd say there's a good chance he's still alive."

"Ah, that doesn't tell us anything. Trust me, I've seen plenty of dead bodies that still twitched after they passed on. That could very well just be his bodily gasses being pushed out his nose."

"Then what do you propose we do?"

"I'm glad you asked. I've done a lot of research, and I've found that there's really only one way to see if someone is truly dead or merely pretending. You'd be surprised how many people try to fake death to avoid a little pain. I'd suggest you both step back, just in case he comes out swinging."

"I'm not worried about a puny man like him."

"Nor am I, but we'd best step back and let the… expert do his job, hm?"

"Ah, it's always nice to be acknowledged. Now then, let's see here…"

Suddenly, Dack Fayden was awake, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. He lurched up from his prone position and was overcome by a violent coughing fit. He brought one hand up to cover his mouth, while the other instinctively latched to his chest. The pain was excruciating, like being cooked from the inside out, and each heavy cough was accompanied by a thin plume of black smoke and the occasional gob of blood. His eyes watered, and his mind could only focus on the intense agony surging around his torso. But even in the throes of this torturous experience, Dack could just make out a delighted voice nearby.

"Ah, see, there you have it. That's why I love planeswalkers, they can take so much damage and still come back for more!"

Removing his hand from his chest, Dack tried to rub the tears from his eyes, with only mild success. It was enough, though, for him to make out three figures standing in the alleyway, a few feet from the building where he had been laid out. In his semi-conscious state, he had made out three different, although hazy, voices, so he assumed they belonged to these individuals. If these were the people who saved him from the Gruul, he wanted to get a proper look at them. Focusing as hard as he could, defined shapes started to appear, and with them, his optimism evaporated.

Through tear-stained eyes, Dack saw three terrifying creatures staring directly at him. One wore an imposing black mask and a cloak that seemed to sublimate at its edges, as if it were made of pure miasma. Beside him towered a winged, horned demon whose purple skin was etched with scars that glowed like embers. With his hazed vision, Dack recognized this monster as the figure fighting Domri just before he passed out. The last one appeared to be a man-sized devil, complete with red skin, horns, and a sadistic glint in his eye. Together, they struck an almost unholy image, like the monsters Dack had heard about in children's storybooks. He probably would have retreated, were it not for the persistent pain still searing across his chest. This was enough for him to fight against the ceaseless burn and, in between violent coughing fits, address these shady characters.

"What… the fuck… did you… do to… me?"

The devil man took a step forward, hands behind his back. "Ah, I don't know if you remember, but you took a rather nasty hit to the head when that beast threw you against the wall. You were out cold, so I woke you up. Direct electrical stimulation to the mucous membrane of the lungs. It forces the body awake with a sudden inhalation reflex. It's like smelling salts, only much more…painful." He lingered on that last word, and a wicked grin spread across his crimson face.

Dack did not see the sadistic smile, however, as the devil's words ignited a fresh outbreak of pain, this time at the base of his skull. Tremors stemming from his head rippled throughout his neck and back, forcing him to double over despite the smoldering affliction still present in his lungs. His thoughts started to swim, and he could feel his consciousness trying to slip away.

Shit… I need to stabilize…

Removing his arm from his mouth, Dack cupped both hands before him. They shook with the effort, so he tensed his entire body to combat his suffering. With an intense concentration, his hands steadily filled with the ephemeral draught of the Chalice of Life. Once his hands were filled nearly to the brim, he tilted his head back and swallowed every drop, desperately fighting against his urge to cough it all up. He managed to down the entirety of the elixir, and he felt the life-giving properties begin to work their magic. After a minute or so, his pain subsided. The fire in his chest was quenched, the reverberations in his skull were stilled. With his strength returning, Dack pulled himself to his feet, dusted off his pants and jacket, and turned to the three monstrous men who he may have to call his saviors. He had questions for them, but before he could open his mouth, he noticed a look of utter disappointment occupying the devil's face.

"Ah, you just had to go and ruin my handiwork. I was rather enjoying your torment. But, I didn't realize we were dealing with another Innistrad native, and an Avacyn devotee nonetheless."

Dack's mind briefly registered the sadistic comment, but it was the devil's latter statement that truly caught him by surprise. "You think I'm from Innistrad?"

"That spell you just used, I'd recognize it anywhere. Only members of the Avacynian church wield restorative magic like that. I'm well acquainted with the Chalices. In my line of work, sometimes your subjects need to be healed. After all, you can't torture a corpse."

This time, Dack could not ignore the frankly evil words being spoken. He felt his face reflexively pull into a grimace of disapproval, but he thought better of it after a moment. He was not prepared for a confrontation or a retreat, so he decided it prudent to merely continue the conversation. Additionally, his curiosity was thoroughly piqued.

"Well, sorry to disappoint. I'm not from Innistrad, just a visitor who picked up a few tricks. Now, just who the hell are you all?"

"Ah, where are my manners?" The devil man put a hand to his chest in what Dack assumed was mock humility. "They call me Tibalt. Well, for as long as they can talk, that is." He chuckled at his own macabre joke, the only one amused.

The demonic figure spoke next, taking a step forward and straightening his posture to create an imposing sight. "My name is Ob Nixilis," he growled, "and you would do well to remember that name, flea." His booming voice resonated within Dack's skull, and he could not help but wonder if it was magically enhanced to frighten him. If so, it worked wondrously, but Dack did his best to keep on a stoic face in front of the demon.

There was a pause before the masked figure said anything. "Davriel Cane. Charmed." His voice was languid, and though Dack could not see his eyes, he got the impression that Davriel was staring off as he talked. He sounded almost bored, as if the dire situation in which they were embroiled did not hold his interest.

After these introductions ended, Dack contemplated his options. He could make a break for it, or he could get some answers. As was becoming an annoying pattern, curiosity beat out preservation.

"Great," Dack said, clapping his hands together, "and I'm Dack Fayden. Now, why did you rescue me from the Gruul?"

Ob Nixilis answered, revealing a derisive grin of razor-sharp teeth that were the color of raked coals. "We were following the Gruul, and we saw how you fared against them." He let out a loud guffaw that practically rattled the bricks of the surrounding buildings.

"Yes, your agony was simply symphonic," Tibalt added. "Those Gruul, as you call them, are truly masters of the craft."

"We were more than fine with letting them do what they may and then just following them afterwards," Davriel bluntly stated, "but they said you would be useful. So, we intervened. You're welcome."

Dack was taken aback by how freely the three spoke about their plans. Their tones, body language, and the unsettling details all suggested no lies were shared. He expected deceit and subterfuge, not this gruesome honesty.

I guess they don't have any real reason to lie about all that. I mean, they're all clearly fucking deranged, but they did save me. They even stuck around to see that I was alive. If they had wanted me for something, they could've tied me up and brought me to their fuck dungeon or whatever. So, does that mean I can trust them?

An internal sigh whiffed across his thoughts, his shoulders sagging with resignation. I guess I don't have much of a choice. Besides, something they said was a little off, and I'd rather get answers now if I can.

Returning his focus to the trepidatious triumvirate, Dack addressed Davriel: "Wait, back up a second. You just said, 'they said you would be useful', and I figure you're not referring to these two. So, who exactly are you talking about?"

"Oh, I guess you didn't notice," Davriel noted with a hint of condescension. "They're over there, gathering information."

He waved his hand back in a casual gesture, indicating the alleyway where the Gruul had attacked. It was true, Dack had been distracted by the pain and these three daunting individuals. Now, looking over their heads, he noticed a thin plume of ash rising from the street. Slowly, Dack made his way around the edge of the alley until his view of its source was unobscured. There, in the middle of the roadway, among the upended stones and twisted corpses of the melee, sat two figures. The source of the smoke was a Gruul barbarian, seemingly entranced as his head slowly dissolved into the rising dust Dack had observed. In front of him stood a grey-skinned figure, who had a needle-like fingernail pointed into the barbarian's forehead and a smile dancing just below the swirling black void where their face should be.

"Ashiok!?" Dack instinctively yelled out, his shocked voice echoing across the vacant alley. At the unexpected address, Ashiok looked away from their victim. When they recognized Dack as the speaker, Ashiok quickly withdrew their finger from the Gruul's forehead. The barbarian's head immediately disintegrated into a cloud of smoldering ash, and their body slumped to the ground with a limp thud. Dack let out a small gasp at the grotesque sight, but Ashiok's minimal features remained unfazed.

"Dack," they rasped, voice dry and crackly like a burning log, "I'm glad to see that you've recovered your strength."

Ashiok took a step towards Dack as they spoke, gesturing to him with a flat palm by their side. His subconscious flared, and Dack backed up a step before bending into an offensive position. His eyes alit with arcane energy, and strands of grey light began accumulating around his head. In a flash, the light condensed into the shape of a helmet adorned with cranking gears, which fully enveloped the top half of Dack's face.

"Don't take another step!" he yelled out. "I'm warning you Ashiok, you better back the fuck up before I blast away what's left of your face."

Ashiok stopped moving forward and put their hands on their hips. They tilted their head to one side in mock confusion. "Still so distrustful after all this time. Come now, Dack, it's been ages since we last met. Surely you're not still upset over what happened on Theros?"

"You're damn right I am," he spat back. "This Helm of Awakening should keep you out of my fucking head this time."

Ashiok's lips twitched, a faint smirk appearing for an instance. "Oh please, Dack, do you really think some flimsy metal around your skull could keep me out? If I wanted into your dreams, I would have done so while you were unconscious."

Dack paused, his hard stare softening for a moment. That does make sense. Ashiok's not one to beat around the bush if there's something they want. While his train of thought chugged along, Dack's eyes wandered from Ashiok to the now headless Gruul warrior sprawled on the concrete behind them. Seeing this brought back memories of his brief stint on Theros, and the intensity of his glare returned.

He gestured with his head to the body. "Why should I trust you when I just saw you disintegrate some guy's head? You could've just been saving me for last."

"Hmm, that does sound plausible," Ashiok mused, "but you've completely misjudged me. Believe it or not, I care little for the secrets in your head. If I recall, your fears are rather, shall I say, pedestrian. Lost love, abandoned home, nothing I have not seen dozens of times by now. No, I was plumbing what I could generously call this barbarian's mind for information."

Dack swallowed hard, fighting his desire to rip Ashiok apart at his flippant mention of Fiora and Mariel. "Oh yeah, information about what? What could a Gruul grunt possibly know that would be of any interest to you and these assholes?"

A smile broke out on Ashiok's face, clearly pleased that Dack had taken their bait. Their voice hissed out like a charmed serpent, ready to strike: "Information on how to escape this wretched plane."

Despite the intense equanimity in the face of an old enemy, Dack could not help but visibly balk at Ashiok's words. Of all the things they could have said, this was nowhere close to Dack's expectations. His concentration wavered from the revelation, and the ethereal helmet around his head vanished. Now exposed, his mouth hung open for a moment, but he swiftly regained his composure.

With everything that's happened today, promising me a way out would be the easiest way to convince me to help. I still don't trust them. I can't trust them, right?

"You know how to get out of here?" he posited, voice thick with forced doubt. He was not sure if the tone was for Ashiok's sake or his own, but it seemed to provoke the nightmare weaver. They held up their hands in a gesture of assurance.

"I do, indeed. When I first arrived here, I was welcomed by a small band of these Gruul. They were running amok, leveling buildings and attacking civilians with willful abandon. They certainly did not expect someone to fight back, let alone one with a planeswalker's power. Once I was in their minds, I found some information that was most… interesting. I assume you've tried to planeswalk since you've been here, yes?"

Dack nodded tentatively. "I tried going back to where I was earlier today, but it stopped my planeswalking halfway through."

"So, then you saw the symbol that appeared over your head, correct? The golden triangle inscribed in a circle."

"Yeah, I saw it. It's the seal of the Azorius, the bastards who police this plane."

Ashiok let out a low chuckle akin to nails across stone. "You speak so confidently for someone without all the facts. According to the Gruul I investigated, the symbol is actually caused by an ancient artifact known as The Immortal Sun. It apparently has the power to bind planeswalkers to the plane on which it currently resides, and until its removal, none can leave."

"I've heard of The Immortal Sun. I always thought it was just a myth, a rumor to keep planeswalkers away from Ixalan and its supposed City of Gold. You're telling me it's real?"

"Indeed. If my victims' memories are to be believed, their leader spoke about it at length. It seems the Gruul are not just here to destroy the city, but to capture the planeswalkers that the Sun has trapped here."

Dack folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, I heard him say as much to his horde when they captured me. So, if you know all this already, why are you still tailing the Gruul?"

For the first time in their conversation, Ashiok's smile disappeared, replaced with a reticent line across the bottom of their face. "Unfortunately, the Gruul that I found knew of The Immortal Sun, but they did not know its location. It seemed that only this Domri character held that pertinent information. It was easy enough to locate the horde, what with the noise and the smell. That's also how I ran into these fine gentlemen." He gestured to Davriel, Nixilis, and Tibalt, who hung on the edge of their confrontation, watching with eager eyes for either a reconciliation or a battle. "Together, we've been tracking the Gruul, waiting for an opportune time to get to their leader so I may extract the information we seek."

"We almost had it," Tibalt chimed in, "but our poor friend here couldn't handle the little leader."

He playfully put a hand on Nixilis's substantial forearm. The demon glared at the grinning devil with a searing intensity, and he shook the hand off.

"Do not toy with me, imp," Nixilis rumbled. "The boy only eluded my grasp because I was unaware of the powers he wielded."

"You mean when he threw a bird at your face and ran off?" chided Davriel.

Nixilis ignored the jab. "When we meet him again, he will not escape my clutches. His powers are nothing compared to mine."

Tibalt let out a sarcastic sigh. "Yeah, yeah, big guy, we know. You've been saying so since we found ya."

The flood of information threatened to overtake Dack's senses, so he held both hands in the air to signal the others. "Ok, hold on a sec. So, the only reason you all saved me is because you were trying to get to Domri? I just gave you the best opportunity to attack."

A low, raspy chuckle emanated from Ashiok. "Quite the pessimist, are we? No, Dack, I saved you because I want you to help us."

"What, help you track down the Gruul? Sorry, but I think you can handle that on your own."

Ashiok shook their head, black wisps scattering about like smoke from a dying fire. "No, no, there is something in this plan that only you can do, Dack. If we're to escape this plane, we need a way to not only find The Immortal Sun, but to remove its influence from the world. Such an artifact will most likely be too powerful for us to merely destroy…"

"…so you need me to absorb its powers, right?"

"I'm glad you understand," Ashiok grinned. "From what I recall, your psychometric abilities should allow you to nullify the Sun, as long as you can get close enough to touch it. We can get you close enough, once we know where it is we need to go. Without your powers, I do not know if we truly have a chance. So, will you help us?"

Dack paused, his brow furrowing in contemplation. His eyes panned across the faces of his potential allies, and he still found himself thoroughly unsettled by the ghastly visages staring back at him. He let a light breath out through his nose, then turned back to Ashiok. "I still don't know why you think I would trust you, why I would trust any of you."

"Besides the fact that we saved your life?" Davriel piped up, not even looking at Dack.

"No, no, this reaction is quite expected," nodded Ashiok. "I knew that it would be difficult to convince you after our previous encounter. You have no reason to believe the things I say, but I will be completely honest with you regardless. I still despise you, Dack Fayden, for the trouble you put me through on Theros. Were this another time, I would have gladly ripped open your head and let loose every twisted nightmare caged within. But this is not another time, and we must work together if we are to escape. I harbor no particular kinship for any of you, and I do not expect you to feel any towards me. It doesn't matter. We are not friends, we are not allies. We are merely partners, working towards a shared goal of getting off this brick-and-mortar birdcage of a plane. Once this job is done, we all go our separate ways across the Multiverse and return to our lives."

Dack was stunned. He had expected Ashiok to try and scare him into joining their cause. Met with such a brazen declaration, however, he suddenly sensed the earnest nature of their words. He turned to the other planeswalkers and saw the nodding heads and placid countenances of individuals in agreement.

"You guys are ok with this too?" he inquired. "You're fine with working together like this?"

"Of course," droned Davriel, masked face still averted from meeting Dack's. "I don't know what's going on in this city, but I'd be more than useless in a fight. The sooner I can go home, the better. If that means slumming with the likes of you all, so be it."

Tibalt wagged a playful finger at Davriel. "Ah, well put, friend. This plane is a drag anyway. All the fear and pain I can sense is scattered across the city. It's way too spread out for me to enjoy properly. Besides, I was transported here in the middle of my research. I don't know how long that witch can live without her skin, and at this rate, I'll never find out!"

"I've been trapped on a plane before," grumbled Nixilis, "and I don't plan on letting it happen again."

Dack's eyes darted back and forth between the faces of the others. Over his considerable years as a planeswalker, and his even longer tenure as a thief, Dack liked to think that he had learned a lot about reading people. Between their chaotic attitudes, nightmarish appearances, and disconcerting topics of conversation, he could not help but be unnerved by their presence. Despite all this, when Dack looked at them now, he saw nothing but sincerity.

I'm not picking up on any deception. They really are just working together to get off the plane, and they really do need my help. They did already save me. I still have a bad feeling about these guys, but…

Hesitation gnawed at him, his brain and gut both vying to give the answer they preferred. The alleyway was silent, all eyes on him in anticipation of a response. Seconds ticked by, and eventually, Dack made up his mind. With his face scrunched in an apprehensive scowl, he muttered:

"Alright, I'll help you out."

Ashiok threw up their hands in excitement. "Wonderful! It's good to see your rationality make itself known."

"But," Dack interjected, leveling an accusatory finger at Ashiok, "if I sense even the smallest hint of you trying to pull some bullshit, I'm out of here. I'll help you take out The Immortal Sun and that's it."

"Of course, of course." Ashiok gestured a hand to their chest. "I have no ulterior motives here, I can assure you of that. I simply want what we all want, to get back to our lives, correct?"

A chorus of agreement came from the others, their attitudes seemingly roused by the prospect of finally leaving Ravnica. Dack had planned to level his same ultimatum at the rest of them, warn them about cooking up any sort of diabolical scheme. At the sound of this tentative camaraderie, he decided to keep quiet instead.

Maybe this won't be too bad, he silently tried to assuage his nagging suspicions. Everyone seems ready to cooperate. They might be bad people, but they are risking their lives to do something that benefits other people besides just themselves. Plus, I can always just leave whenever I sense any shit. It should be fine, right?

Dack's self-assured musings were cut short, as the monotonous buzz of Davriel's voice filled the empty air. "Well, we should probably get a move on if we're to catch up with those barbarians again. Gods forbid we let them put any more distance between us, because I'm certainly not going to do any 'hustling', as you said before."

"Yeah, this spot is dead anyway," Tibalt agreed, idly kicking one of the Gruul corpses by his feet. "No sense mulling about here when there's fresh meat for the cutting elsewhere."

Dack let out a small sigh of resignation. "Alright. Are we gonna keep on this path here?"

"Not quite," Ashiok answered. Dack looked to them and saw their hands were now exuding a thick grey fog. It billowed from their fingertips and gathered around their feet, slowly taking shape. "If we are to catch Domri, we will need the element of surprise. It was the only way we were able to save you, after all. So, we'll need a vantage point."

The smoke finished spilling from their fingers, giving Ashiok the opportunity to point to the rooftops above. Dack did not bother to look up, as his eyes were drawn to the beast that emerged beneath them. The smoke had solidified to reveal a shadowy creature. It resembled the merfolk Dack had seen on other planes, except its legs were replaced by a bouquet of squelching tentacles and its head matched the hollowness of the planeswalker who had summoned it. Ashiok straddled its back as it hunched forward, then turned back to Dack with a slight tilt to their head.

"Are you in need of assistance? Navigating across the rooftops isn't easy for unaided humans. My nightmare here can skulk around any area without being detected."

Dack paused, trying his best to keep his face neutral before responding. He felt the disgust clawing up his esophagus, both at the hideous creature and the thought of sharing a ride with someone like Ashiok.

"No, I've got it," he curtly responded.

Ashiok seemed to understand the message behind his words and shrugged. "Very well." With a quick nod forward, the tentacled beast started shuffling across the alleyway. Its speed was impressive, clearing the passage in a matter of moments without making a sound. From there, it pressed its tentacles against the adjacent building's side and started scaling it with apparent ease.

Dack's eyes followed Ashiok as they scuttled up the façade, transfixed by the unearthly movement of the creature. He did not break his stare until he felt someone pass by him as they moved towards the wall. Returning his attention to the ground, he saw Davriel approach the building. Before he reached it, fluctuating black energy engulfed his arms and legs. Then, he propelled off the ground like a rocket, leaving a trail of gaseous ichor in his wake.

"Would you look at them go?" Tibalt called out from behind Dack, his comment accompanied by a low whistle. "Well, big guy, I guess that's our cue. Ya know, it'd probably be more comfortable for both of us if you just let me sit on your shoulders this time."

Ob Nixilis growled at him. "You are not in a position to make requests, flightless one. You are fortunate that I have carried you thus far without dropping you. Do not test my charity."

"What? It's not like I'd sever your wing's connective tissue to see how it feels. I mean, honestly, what do you take me for?"

"I take you for an insolent whelp. Now, I'd suggest you stop talking, unless you truly want to see how it feels to free fall onto packed stone."

"Alright, alright. No need to get your brimstone in a twist. Just watch the claws this time, this is my favorite coat."

There was a rush of air as Nixilis unfurled his massive wings, followed by a small yelp of surprise from Tibalt. With a powerful thrust, Nixilis lifted off the ground with Tibalt grasped in his demonic hands. Together, the pair bolted over Dack's head to join the others on their way up to the rooftop.

As he watched his newfound accomplices make their way up the building side, an exhausted puff of air escaped Dack's nostrils yet again. Silently, he began walking towards them while once more activating the Amulet of Tarantual. The translucent threads wound around his gloves, and he started climbing. As he neared the rooftop, the indistinct chatter of the four other planeswalkers, his partners, grew louder. He let loose a low grunt, and a single thought ran through his head.

This has to be the dumbest fucking thing I've ever agreed to.