Chapter 34: Spirit Link
Ugin pulled his claw back, and he was once again surrounded by silence. The spirit dragon rested in the deep blue that filtered through his nictitating eyelids for a moment, allowing his mind to fully return to his body. After some time, his eyes opened, and the polished face of the Spirit-Gem filled his vision. Even after all that had happened to the massive egg-like structure, all the scratches and scorches it had weathered, Ugin could still see his reflection in its metallic surface.
Gazing upon it now, he could not help but notice how tired he looked. His neck bent low, his sapphiric eyes drained of their luster, and his wings seemed downtrodden as they cycled through the meditative tempo that kept him hovering in place before the Gem. A beleaguered sigh shuddered through his body and escaped from his nostrils, splashing a cascading rainbow of blues across the bronze.
My brother, how could I allow this to happen?
It was a question the Ugin had asked himself countless times on countless planes across countless lives, and he had yet to find a satisfactory answer. His ears remained open to his surroundings, hoping for a response, but the Meditation Realm offered nothing but a tranquil wind over the still waters below. It seemed that, no matter what he did or where he went, there was no way for him to escape the shadow of his brother, Nicol Bolas.
Ugin had long been resigned to accept this fate. The twin dragons had entered this world intertwined, breaking the thin shell that stood between them and life, together. His first breath of Dominarian air was shared between his lungs and Bolas'. When he felt the first blades of grass between his talons, he could feel his brother doing the exact same, as if their minds and bodies were layered atop one another. Though their childhood presented them with divergent paths, Ugin never shook those very first sensations of his and his brother's interconnected destinies. He had tried so hard to help, but no matter what method he employed, his brother would never relent, ever embodying the tenacity of the Elder Dragons rather than the sagacity that he favored.
Fate was something in which Ugin strongly believed, its threads weaving together all born under the multiversal suns into an intricate tapestry. Most lived their lives completely ignorant to it, with only those blessed with a planeswalker spark capable of even seeing a portion of the vast mosaic. There were only a select few, like Ugin, who were permitted to touch it, to bend and pull and snip at the fabric of reality to alter it to their whim. Unfortunately, no matter how many strings he severed or stitches he unwound, it seemed his and Bolas' fate could not be unraveled.
This time, it will be different. You've always prided yourself on your intellect, Nicol, but now I have something you did not account for. All your planning, all you've done and continue to do…
Ugin's eyes drifted over the Spirit-Gem, its brassy surface offering little besides the glint of the artificial sun and his only warbling reflection. Despite its staggerimg appearance, Ugin knew what darkness it contained. After all, it was a part of them both, a relic forged in fratricidal conquest. Though it was made of Ugin's inexplicable essence, it was a bridge between him and Bolas, a physical manifestation of their interwoven paths. Upon his resurrection, Ugin had felt the Gem's call as a distant, unintelligible whisper, beckoning him to its presence. It was not until he returned to the Meditation Realm and stood in the shadow of the golden, elliptical gravestone, that he finally began to understand.
When he touched the Gem, he could see through his brother's eyes. It did not feel like a simple spell of scrying or projection. It was different, intimate and secluded and, above all, familiar. It was the same sensation as when they first stepped onto Dominaria, or when they witnessed Merrevia's death, or when Bolas had stood over him, readying the killing blow. Even planes apart, the Gem acted as a conduit, making their minds one once again. It was the perfect surveillance tool, something that allowed Ugin to spy on his brother without him knowing. To Ugin, however, it also seemed like a cruel joke, an cosmic exercise in torturous irony.
As the spirit dragon peered through the Gem, he could do nothing as his brother enacted unspeakable atrocities across the plane of Ravnica. He could feel the thick, dripping ichor of the Elderspell coursing through Bolas' body, its tendrils licking at the scales that pressed against the Gem's dimpled surface. He could hear the trapped souls of the Eternals, his once loyal followers now subjugated in death, cry out for the Blessed Sleep that they had been denied. And worst of all, he could sense every spark, every dead planeswalker, that his brother hoarded.
While Ugin used the Spirit-Gem as a portal, Bolas used it as a channel for the sparks, a way to trap and harness their powers to fuel his own. Just beneath the metallic shell, the spirits of those planeswalkers were still active, fruitlessly searching for a way back to the world of the living. Every time he touched the Gem, a chorus of spectral voices cried out to him, desperately asking for an escape from whomever could hear them. Though silence enveloped him now, their echoes still swirled around his skull, a knelling reminder of his inability to stop his brother's actions.
Ugin's frustrations were only exacerbated by an acerbic revelation. If I can hear them, then you can too, Nicol. I must wonder if you laugh so loudly to drown them out, or if that is simply your response to their cries?
A light breeze swept up from the peaceful seas, fluttering through his coruscating feathers before breaking across the Gem's unyielding surface. Deep in his chest, Ugin felt the resolute embers, which burned bright with dutiful conviction a lifetime ago, stir and stoke at the Realm's provocation. I know you will not stop at Ravnica. I can feel it. You are just as obstinate as when we were mere hatchlings. You have not changed, no matter who much you or I wished it to be so…
Ugin's eyes lingered on his reflection's for a moment longer, then he peeled himself away. Turning away from the Gem, his gaze passed over the natural splendor of the Meditation Realm. From his airborne vantage, he could see past the miles and miles of undisturbed ocean, all the way to the abundant mountain ridges, their peaks slowly disintegrating into the clouded sky. They framed the horizon like the spines of a great slumbering lizard. The image was made all the clearer by the carved horns that jutted from the sea, as if the beast were concealed just beneath its serene surface. Instead of a hidden, draconic shadow, however, the water's surface showed only the faint reflections of ambient aether swirling through the hanging mists overhead.
At the overwhelming tranquility of his surroundings, Ugin felt a small smirk poking at his scaled lips. It seems no matter what one does to this realm, it finds a way to return to its natural state. To think it has already recovered from your rage…
His mind flashed back to days before, or perhaps it was weeks, or simply a few hours. He had come to understand that, if he were to help stop Bolas, he needed access to the Meditation Realm. Upon an initial attempt, however, he was swiftly reminded that his brother was nothing if not prepared. The plane was blocked by powerful magics that he alone could not break. Fortunately, Sarkhan Vol was more than willing to assist in the efforts. They bypassed the wards, and while Ugin searched for the Spirit-Gem, Sarkhan was content to burn as much of the plane as his flames could reach. The spirit dragon had not seen the point in his ally's outburst, and though time seemed to have proven him correct, he had also come to understand how cathartic it must have been for the dracomancer.
To have my brother and myself wreaking havoc in your head for so long, it is only right that you would do the same when given the opportunity. Were you to see the plane now, my friend, I have no doubt you would be endlessly incensed. He paused, eyes falling from the skyline. I am sorry you must be trapped with my brother now. I hope you will have a more permanent vengeance soon enough.
With melancholia still weaving through Ugin's wings, his thoughts returned to the present. His eyes now pointed to the ground below, he noticed a small figure standing alone atop the expansive ocean. They were perfectly still, their feet causing no ripples on the silvery surface, and their head was upturned expectantly to Ugin.
It took a second for realization to dawn. Oh yes. The reason I withdrew from the Gem, of course.
He had no way of knowing how long he had been lost in thought. Time, it seemed, affected him differently than all other beings of the multiverse. His strength let him use this to his advantage, but in these quieter moments, the temporal forces always found a way to overcome this imbalance. Now, as he looked at the figure below, he could feel the beat of his draconic heart sync to the normal ticking pace of reality.
Ugin folded his wings close, descending from the Gem's height towards the awaiting silhouette. His intuition was reaffirmed as he approached the conjurant, one of his summoned spiritual assistants. Much like the others that he had littered across the plane, it took the form of a Tarkirian monk, with facsimiled robes and beads practically blending into their apparitional skin. This form, he knew, was synthesized from his latent nostalgia for the plane of his rebirth, whose people he carried an almost paternalistic affection towards. Unlike the monks of his memories, however, the conjurants also had a set of pronged horns over their brow and brilliant emerald eyes beneath it. These reflected Ugin's own features, an extension of his powers made manifest rather than an act of simple vanity. Though they acted independent of the dragon's will, his creations were a part of him.
This conjurant, a bald woman clad in the symbology of the great Ojutai, craned her neck to Ugin and stared at him blankly. He eventually settled on the water's surface, the last beat of his wings sending circular disturbances across the empty sea.
"Yes, my child," the dragon rumbled, "what news do you bring me?"
The spectral monk's stiff posture loosened slightly, despite it possessing neither the muscles to retract nor the mental processes to relax. "The hedronic array is nearly set to your specifications. The salvaged rubble has been set and the runes inscribed. All we require is the necessary magic to set the alignment."
I suppose your catharsis has been of some use, Sarkhan, he silently mused. "Very well."
Ugin raised a claw, and his palm alit with energy that pulsated between the colors of a glacial fissure and freshly plucked mint. Ugin closed his hand around the powerful spell, feeling it churn within his grip. He bent low to the conjurant, whose eyes could carry no expectation, and extended a single claw to her forehead. As he touched her spectral skin, directly between the horns that held a miniature mirror to his own, the spell siphoned from his grasp into the awaiting vessel. Her eyes momentarily filled with a luminous projection of the gifted mana, but it quickly dispersed as her body accepted the parcel.
"Carry it well, my child," Ugin instructed as he straightened himself. "Once you reach your destination, continue your work with the others. The preparations will conclude soon."
The conjurant bowed in understanding, placing a closed fist against their open palm in a reproduction of the ancient Tarkirian gesture. Knowing that the dragon need not reciprocate, the spirit turned and began to run over the water towards the designated area. It went a few steps, gaining proper momentum before it was engulfed in a feathery ball of turquoise magic. The wisplike figure streaked back from whence it came, its frenetic guise leaving no wake along the mirrorlike sea.
Ugin watched as the conjurant disappeared over the horizon, leaving him alone once again. His instructions to the spirit echoed in his mind for a second. The preparations will conclude soon. And then, the final phase may commence.
The dragon stretched an empty hand before himself. After a brief ripple of spatial manipulation magic, a small mechanical device appeared in his open palm. From afar, it was a beautiful arrangement of gold and filigree, with silvery light beaming through the cracks and alighting the mounted transceiver like a beacon. A closer inspection, however, would reveal a matrix of crudely fitted architecture and shoddy welding. No matter how closely Ugin had tried to follow the given instructions, he felt that delicate engineering was not a skill suitable for such a wizened reptile as himself.
He raised the device to eye level, focusing on the shimmering display. It had not changed since the last time Ugin had checked, still displaying the last trans-planar message sent from Niv-Mizzet. It told him that their plan was still going accordingly and that Jace Beleren was now aware of his involvement in it. The extent to which Jace knew, however, was conspicuously absent from the missive. This did not come as a surprise, as even Sarkhan was not aware of the full extent of their plotting, a safeguard against Bolas' propensity for mental extraction. Ugin had already sent along his own progress report, detailing what Bolas was planning and how best to proceed. It seemed, within the unknowable time since he sent that message, there was nothing new to report.
With a sigh, Ugin once again dispersed the receiver to some far-off pocket of spacetime to be retrieved later. Before he had received that first shaky communication from the young, clever dragon on Ravnica, Ugin had not been aware of the full scope of his brother's schemes. Together, they had worked tirelessly to formulate a plan of their own, one that could finally put an end to all the wickedness that followed Ugin like a plague. He had felt conviction then, a trembling resilience in their eventual success. Now it was underway, the stage carefully set and the players ready to fulfill their parts, and that confidence seemed like a mere echo of another life.
This plan will work. It must. You have been allowed to act freely for too long, brother, and it is past time that you were stopped. If I am to not fail you again, then Nicol Bolas must come to an end.
Ugin unfurled his wings with a reticent flourish. The diffused light of the Meditation Realm danced across the multifaceted feathers, bathing the waters with sparkling blues. They bent up, then flapped hard in a single fluid motion, launching the spirit dragon back into the air, back to the Gem, back to his vigilant post where he would await the next step.