Chapter 41: Nissa's Revelation

Six missions, all now underway across the city of Ravnica. While the guilds of the city coordinated their forces against the Dreadhorde, teams of planeswalkers risked their lives, positioning themselves to finally strike back against the evils that Nicol Bolas had brought with him to this plane. Their collective hope lay squarely in the dismantling of Bolas' traps, which would allow Ravnica to be returned to its full power and finally exact its revenge for its deep-sown scars. Like the sturdy spokes of a wheel, these six missions bolstered this idealistic hub, in the hopes that it may deliver everyone on Ravnica, everyone in the multiverse, to a deserved salvation. And seated within this central, protected position, Nissa Revane found herself utterly lost.

While the rest of the Gatewatch and those conscripted under its banner stormed the city's surface, Nissa was forced to remain within the shielded confines of the Golgari guildhall, as far from Bolas as possible. She knew the isolation was a precaution, giving her the space she needed to master the rituals she would need to repair Ravnica's severed leylines and restore the Guildpact to power. Now seated in Vraska's regal quarters, Nissa knew what her own mission was and what she needed to do to bring it to fruition. Despite this, her mind seemed incapable of focusing on the intricate magics that required her attention. Even worse, she was not the first one to notice.

"I sense your progress slowing, Nissa," came the ephemeral voice of Niv-Mizzet. His raspy tone floated from the brass vessel, now perched on a mycelial dresser, to her position in a faux-leather chair on the opposite side of the room. "Your mind is troubled."

Her pointed ears twitched at this provocation, but it took another moment before she fully broke from her trancelike stupor and the faint glow in her eyes receded. "Hmm? Oh, no, this is nothing. I shall have the ritual learned in time, you need not worry about that."

Against her hopes, Niv was undeterred. "Are you having difficulties in learning the spell? I know we have not the books for your study, but I can run you through the intricacies again if needed. Memorizing the entirety of Ravnica's archives was a far more arduous feat than simply explaining them for your benefit."

"No, that will not be necessary. This spell may be ancient, but it suits my animism well. I believe I understand the components necessary for its success."

"Then perhaps it is the noise that is distracting you from your work."

Nissa's brow knitted at the deceased dragon's insistence. Sitting up slightly in the oversized armchair, she listened to the ambient noise that filtered into the queen's secluded accommodations. Beyond the obsidian doorway, the whole of Svogthos filled with the unease of the steadily gathering refugees. As the Golgari granted all citizens a haven from the Eternals that plagued the sun-exposed streets, their worry, fear, and anger echoed through the unhallowed halls. It was impossible to completely ignore the shifting atmosphere in the guildhall, especially when the very walls seemed to respond to this malaise in kind. Nissa, however, had forgotten about the sound for a while now, longer than she could care to remember.

"No, the noise is at a perfectly acceptable level. I am far more used to channeling my magic without silence. Were there no noise at all, I do not know what I would do."

For a moment, Niv was quiet, which brought a brief relief to Nissa's overwrought mind. The reprieve was short lived, however, as his spectral voice reemerged with a contemplative tenor.

"If it is neither the spell nor your surroundings, then what is causing your delay?"

Nissa's implacable features remained unmoved, though she felt a quiet distress in her stomach, as if it was preparing to drop. "I do not know what you mean. I am making the progress I can with the spell, under your guidance, and it will be ready when the time comes. It sounds as though it is you who should be focusing on your own preparations."

Niv, despite being incapable of breathing, let out a derisive snort. "I have been preparing my entire life for this day. My mind never wavers, it merely branches, holding all thoughts in equal proportion and consideration. You, on the other hand, have neither the age nor the draconic lineage to profess to such mental extrapolation. When your mind clouds, it blocks all other avenues of thoughtful progress."

"It is good, then, that the skies of my mind remain clear and calm."

"So you say, and yet your own face speaks otherwise. My followers often think me cold, but understanding their emotions is a trivial matter, one that I do not ignore, but rather put aside for the purposes of more pressing scientific inquiry. You hide well behind your stoicism, but even the faintest expressions or slimmest shift in motions do not escape my notice. To me, your troubled thoughts are plain as day."

It took all Nissa's sagacious effort to maintain her composure in the face of Niv's confidently stated conclusion. The teetering of her stomach she sensed earlier finally gave way, plunging from the precipitous edge into the abyss of her body. Though she sank into the armchair, swaddled in her cloak that seemed to readily bond with the fungal décor, Nissa suddenly felt very exposed.

How could he know of my thoughts? Have I truly been so obvious, or is his mind truly this powerful? Does it truly matter now? This mission, the lives of everyone on this plane and every other in the Multiverse, it all now rests upon my shoulders. I am distracted, but it does no good to dwell upon the distraction. It simply feeds it, like water to the roots of weeds. If I am to focus, I must simply pluck them out, starve them of that which they crave. That is what I have been trying, though to no avail. It has always worked in the past. So why is it not working now?

While the normally placid pond of her mind rippled with uncertain activity, Nissa remained frozen in her seat, silently staring past Niv's snub-nosed bust as if to defy his declaration. Seemingly discontent with her lack of response, the dragon's voice once again rumbled to life, posing a question that easily pulled her consciousness back into the room.

"Do you truly understand the gravity of our situation, Nissa?"

Any lingering haze in her mind evaporated instantly, replaced by quiet indignation. "I most assuredly do, perhaps far greater than even you. I have fought Nicol Bolas before, I have felt his power firsthand. I know what he can do and what he plans to do. The only thing that stands in the way of his wish for complete multiversal ruin is us. I took an oath upon joining the Gatewatch, one I have never had any intention of retracting. Without this spell and my abilities, as Jace said, we will have no way of stopping him. So, yes, I understand completely, and I need not entertain such insults."

Despite the intensity of Nissa's reproachful words, Niv seemed undaunted. "If you truly understood, then you would know that you cannot afford to be distracted in this matter. Were I able to compose the ritual myself, I would, but that is not the case. Jace said you were the only one who could perform such a task as this, and I have no reason to doubt him. The fate of all rest upon your completion of the ancient rites, and yet your mind continues to wander. If such a problem cannot be overcome by your own force of will, perhaps you will enlighten me. Otherwise, if it remains insurmountable, you will have doomed countless worlds with your obstinance."

Though his presence remained intangible, Nissa felt as though Niv was bearing down on her, with each exultation streaming from his nostrils like the steam from a pressurized vent. Her stomach finally bottomed out, crashing at the nadir of her frame. She felt her forced serenity crumbling under the dragon spirit's oppressive gaze. Finding no recourse, she channeled all her unease into her lungs, then pressed it out as hard as she could with an exacerbated sigh.

"Sharing of emotions is not something that comes easily for me. Even if I could, I do not see what purpose such an act holds."

"Then begin not with feelings, but with facts. I find that, should one be so compelled by the latter, the former will make itself known well enough."

Nissa sat up and extricated her arms from her cloak, suddenly feeling unduly constrained by the wrappings. She hunched over and pressed the gloved heels of her palms into her knees while her eyes remained fixed on the glinting brass of Niv's.

"Very well. I know what our mission is. We are to travel to the site of the former Hall of the Guildpact once the Planar Bridge has been closed. There, I am to stitch Ravnica's leylines together based on the schematics you have shown me. After which time, the ten representatives of the guilds will meet, and I will conduct the ritual to transfer their will as guardians of the Guildpact to you. You shall be reborn as the newest iteration of the Living Guildpact, and at your helm, the guilds and remaining planeswalkers shall make their final push against Bolas. By commanding the laws of this plane, you can hold Bolas long enough for Gideon to strike him down. It is a good strategy, the best strategy we have, and it all depends on my ability to execute this ritual perfectly."

Her voice never faltered. She did not slouch, did not fidget, did not even blink as her oversized green irises remained locked on Niv. If there was one thing Nissa prided herself on, it was her ability to uphold herself regardless of the situation.

"Do you believe, then," mused Niv, "that the pressure of such an important mission is causing this delay? That the weight of all those lives hanging on your success have restricted your mind?"

Expecting such a response, Nissa shook her head succinctly. "No, I do not believe that is the case. This is not the first time I have been put in such a position, and though I can appreciate the magnitude of destruction before us, I have never found myself stopped by such doubts before. I have conjured more intricate and ancient spells in far direr circumstances without issues such as this, and I am not one to allow the past to slip from my memory."

"You offer little reason for doubt in this matter. What else do you know?"

"What else is there to know? I have been given my mission, and as with my fellow Gatewatch members, I will carry it out to the absolute limit of my abilities. We will save this city, no matter the cost."

Niv paused. "Yet I sense this is not a priority in your heart."

"Of course it is," Nissa rebuked. "As long as I am here, as long as I am on the same plane as that dragon, I will stop at nothing to end his tyranny, here and now, before it can spread any further through the multiverse."

"You misunderstand me, Nissa. I meant no offense, but it is clear in how you speak. Ravnica is not your home, and though you have pledged yourself to its safety this day, it is not where you truly wish to be."

Nissa's mouth opened, but she paused before any of the readied retorts could fling from the tip of her tongue. She had expected many things from Niv, but this understanding of her inner workings, stated so banally that it would seem obvious to any outside observer, was not among them. Nissa knew he was correct, and he likely knew that she knew this. Her hands kneaded further into her thighs as she found her voice once more.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying what you seemed to so easily identify. It is true, while I wish to focus my attention on saving Ravnica, I cannot keep my mind from wandering back to my home plane of Zendikar. That is where my soul lies, not here."

Nissa braced herself, expected some admonishing comments from the dragon about her selfishness in the face of such present danger. His response, then, came as a true surprise.

"Having such an attachment to your home is not so unreasonable, especially when it is ripped away from you."

She sat up and cocked a pointed ear in his direction, unsure if he had heard him properly. "I… did not expect such an answer."

Niv audibly smirked. "You mustn't worry yourself. It is rare that anyone can anticipate what I am to say next. It is usually enough to simply listen."

"Then please, allow me the opportunity to listen. You, seemingly without reservation, have laid bare my selfish nature, which places my own kind above all, even those whose distress is right in front of me. There was a time in my life where I believed that the elves of Joraga stood atop the multiverse, that our race was the true pinnacle of existence above all others. I thought this egotistical belief had been long since weeded out. I believed my travels across the multiverse and those friends I have shared them with were enough to banish such ideas of false superiority. Yet here I sit, once again unable to put aside thoughts of my own people for those of another plane. So, with the wisdom of the ages at your beck and call, explain to me how my distractions are not unreasonable."

While her voice started out on its typical even keel, Nissa could feel the bite of emotion gradually seeping into each subsequent word. She had not expected to become so emotional, but by the end of her speaking, even she could her a genuine inflection in her voice.

Niv, however, made no show in his own voice to acknowledge the sudden shift in hers. "Once again, you misunderstand my words. It is not your thoughts of your home which are unreasonable, but that you let them continue to occupy your active mind that is. I unfortunately cannot speak as a traveler of other worlds. I have only ever glimpsed past the veil, beyond Ravnica's borders. Even in death, I ascended no higher than the skies I have always known. I feel your devotion to your home is the same as mine. Though the other guilds see me as a schemer, all that I do is with the advancement and protection of Ravnica in mind. I, too, would make any sacrifice to keep this plane and its people, my people, safe, a fact which my current state more than certifies.

"Such notions do not cloud the mind, but drive it, fuel it to advance ever forward towards your goals. Many of my own greatest inventions, and countless more of the infinite projects of mad majesty within the Izzet, have been drawn out by such thoughts as these. Though we have never had a war like this, we have rarely known peace, but such tension necessitates perseverance of mind. You cannot stop yourself from thinking of your home and your kin, so use it. Bolas will be upon your doorstep soon unless he is stopped here, so keep that idea close. Channel those errant emotions into your spellcraft. It will be messier than you are used to, but such is the Izzet way, which is truly the Ravnican way."

While Niv spoke, Nissa watched as the hewn eyes of the brass statue flared intermittently with the candor of his words. It ebbed like fire, transfixing her as she listened to his impassioned treatise. It took her a second to realize when the dragon had finished speaking, and yet another second to realize that she had been holding her breath for longer than usual.

Once she regained her senses, Nissa cocked her head to one side. Though she could feel her mounting compulsion at Niv's behest, doubt still bore down on her like a bough's shadow. "Thank you for the clarification. I understand your sentiment, but I am unsure if I can put it into effective practice. As I have said, allowing myself to act upon emotions is not something I am attuned to. I can appreciate such qualities in others, but…"

Her lilting voice slowly trailed off, shepherding a terse silence into Vraska's quarters. Nissa finally broke away from Niv's embossed gaze, her eyes falling to where her hands now clenched around her leather-clad knees. As the ambient sounds of the Ravnican evacuees filtered in, Nissa turned over the dead dragon's advice in her head.

It is a logical course of action, given the circumstances. I cannot cease thinking elsewhere when I try to focus on the ritual, so perhaps it should all work to a common cause. But is that truly okay? My magic requires centering, order, focus. Communing with Trostani and Mat'Selesnya has told me that this plane's magic is far different than Zendikar. I suppose this isn't the first time such a suggestion has been made to, what was it, "get out of my own head." But can I risk giving myself over to something I might not fully control?

The more she pondered it, the deeper her internal discomfort grew, yawning open into the vacant space where her stomach once sat. Unintentionally, Nissa entered another trance, this time attempting to reach a viable reconciliation between her own thoughts and those provided for her. This state did not last long, however, as the serenity was shattered by a series of swift, brutal knocks at the door.

Blinking away the stupor, Nissa craned her neck towards the tortuously engraved entrance, making no effort to stand up. "I apologize," she said in a drifting voice, "but Queen Vraska has given orders that no citizens are to be held in her chambers. If the main concourse is full, please follow the guards to the proper overflow rooms. If there are any questions, please direct them to Storrev at the entrance."

She expected this automatic message, handed down from a reluctant Vraska when Niv requested a more private practice area, to be met as it had several times thus far with a muted apology and a quiet shuffling of receding footsteps on the moldering carpet. This time, however, she received a far stronger response.

"It is us, Nissa. We've returned from our mission."

The voice behind the door was deep, grunting, and instantly familiar, if slightly surprising to the unexpectant elf. Her voice caught for a moment as her mind attempted to catch up, but once it did, she answered calmly.

"Of course. We have left the door unlocked, please come in."

The heavy door opened, swinging wide and fast like it was made of cheap boards rather than ancient stone reinforced by time, as Angrath readily pushed his way into the room. The bullheaded planeswalker's hands, horns, and chains shifted the lighting of the confined space as he crossed to its center, still glowing like dying embers. Each thundering step was followed by an exhaustive snort, the combined effect enough to rattle the room's countless framed artworks and idling statues. He eventually came to a stop at the edge of Vraska's bed, leaning heavily enough on a banister to extract a wearisome creak.

Only a few steps behind the minotaur's wake, the mysterious figure who had introduced herself to Nissa only as The Wanderer entered the room and shut the door with a succinct SLAM. The woman, if that was what she was, swiftly strode across the room, her armored footsteps making no sound as she passed, and slumped in the chair next to Niv's vessel. Though her brimmed hat now sported a sizable hole, her face was still unseeable.

As the two planeswalkers took a moment to catch their breath, Nissa noted that they were both worse for wear. Skin covered in still-bleeding cuts, clothes torn and bitten in all manner of unseemly ways, and weapons whose coating of putrid viscera had only recently dried. Seeing their fatigued state sent a wave of discomfort over Nissa's mind, shunting her partially back to her prior thoughts. It was thus through only half-opened ears that she listened to Niv and the others.

"So, was your mission a success?" the dragon inquired, his normally astute voice suddenly edged with urgency.

"Indeed," curtly answered The Wanderer. She did not look to Niv or the others, having redrawn her blade and dedicated her attention to cleaning it. "Your bones were lying just where you said they would be. Looked like the Eternals hadn't even crossed through the area yet somehow. A serendipitous turn of events, it would seem."

Niv let out a derisive huff. "So it would seem to the unenlightened observer. A plan which relies on luck must necessarily have been created by a small mind who can neither conceive of nor control the variables at play. It is a fact that only Bolas and myself understand."

"A plan that involves one's own death…" The Wanderer idly mused. "You must be right, no small mind could have thought of that."

Though Niv might have noted her sarcasm, he did not acknowledge it. "And you brought them to where I specified?"

"Yes," grunted Angrath, whose glowing features had steadily dimmed. "It was as you predicted as well. The remains of the building you labeled as the Hall of the Guildpact were indeed ignored by the Eternals. Stowing your skeleton amidst the rubble was simple enough."

"Good. Any trouble during your transport?"

Angrath shook his head, chains lightly rattling. "Now that Bolas has returned primary control of the Eternals to Liliana, my compulsory conscription can affect them once again. One detachment under my command was enough to carry your remains and provide us sufficient camouflage from the Dreadhorde."

"Though it wasn't the Dreadhorde that caused the most problems," The Wanderer sighed.

"True," nodded Angrath, "we likely would have made it through our mission without incident were it not for those two."

"Oh?" piqued Niv.

"Two planeswalkers, seemingly engaged in a fight of their own. They crashed through a building on our path back to the sewers. It didn't stop them, they kept on going across the block while we had to fight our way out from all the attention they drummed up. I only got a brief look, but it was no individuals I recognized. A pale woman and a grey-skinned man, I believe, but both too wrapped in chaos to make out properly."

The Wanderer clicked her tongue. "If they're doing something as foolish as that, I doubt they would've made it to our little meeting."

"Very true," nodded Angrath. "That was truly the only impasse, and though we sustained some damage from the surprise turn, it appears to be nothing that cannot be fixed."

"It would have been far simpler to bring the bones directly here so as to not risk their discovery by Bolas. I doubt he would care much about the skeleton of a dragon he killed once before."

Despite the immovable status of the brass bust, Niv nodded. "An astute enough observation, but I have no worries about their current position. Bolas is far too arrogant to think me a threat any longer. Besides, I believe bringing them down here would pose a far greater risk to the integrity of my skeleton. The Golgari have shown much restraint from their usual proclivities in light of the day's events, but the temptation of such powerful remains would likely prove too strong. After all, there is no guild member in Ravnica who acts along any path besides that of their own self-interest."

There was a pause as the planeswalkers all considered Niv's weighted choice of words. With no one daring to speak against him, the silence was only broken by the keening sound of The Wanderer deciding to sheath their katana.

"Then," she began, "with our piece of the mission now complete, we have nothing more to do than wait until these guilds are ready to convene. How goes the progress on preparing the ritual?"

From her dissociative state, it took Nissa several seconds to realize that the pause in the conversation was due to the other's waiting for her answer. Once her ears finally keyed her brain to the situation, it took several more seconds to brush her other thoughts to the side for now and pull herself back into the room. When she did so, she immediately felt all eyes upon her. A surreptitious clearing of her throat helped to disperse some of the onset anxiety, and though some still lingered, she did her best to keep it out of her voice.

"It is good to hear that your side of our mission here was a success. The material components you recovered will be invaluable in the Guildpact's reconstruction, from what I understand."

She did not feel the three gazes lift from her position as she had hoped. Instead, she could almost feel the palpable shift as they went from scrutinous to worried. Her ears flattened with confusion. Oh no, that must not have been the response they expected. Did I miss something?

"Is everything alright, Nissa?" asked Angrath. "You seem distracted."

"This isn't from an issue with the ritual, is it?" inquired The Wanderer, putting a bit more urgency in her voice than was necessary.

Despite the itching emptiness at her core, Nissa tried to regain her composure with a responsive shake of her head.

"No, I would not say it is as such. The ritual has been progressing well enough. We should still be on track with the other pieces of this plan, though I am perhaps not moving as swiftly as I believe Niv intended. I apologize, it is just…"

She hesitated here, unsure of how to word the problem she and Niv had just discussed, if she could even bring herself to readmit it. There was a certain exposure she felt about discussing such a topic with Angrath and The Wanderer. It was not that she did not trust them, but rather that, as fellow planeswalkers adept at traveling the multiverse, they may not fully understand her plight. The last thing she wanted was to create conflict, but she had learned that appearing secretive could be just as disastrous as letting loose a potentially inflammatory phrase. As such, Nissa found herself paralyzed, trying to determine the best option from among a truly poor selection.

Before she could make her own choice, however, Niv spoke up on her behalf. "You are correct, Angrath, Nissa has been distracted. As I understand, her thoughts are split between here and her home plane, making it difficult to focus."

Nissa felt her body tighten as the spectral voice faded once again. Unbeknownst to herself, her hands had clasped shut around two fistfuls of her shroud. Now that she noticed, it felt as if they were searching for her gnarled staff, which lay on the floor at her side. Her eyes had yet to leave the floor, preferring to trace the cilial patterns in the carpet. She could feel her tattooed features begin to color with a facsimile of humiliation, which was only heightened by the seemingly increased intensity of the stares in her direction.

"Is that true, Nissa?" The Wanderer inquired.

Without lifting her head, Nissa answered with her usual stoicism. "I am ashamed to admit that it is the truth. Though I have much sympathy for Ravnica and its citizens, I cannot keep my mind from wandering back to my home and my people, who I have now unintentionally abandoned. I know such thoughts are unproductive, especially for a cause as vital as this. I do not begrudge either of you for considering my state to be a sad one for a planeswalker. I will do my best to purge these thoughts from my mind, no matter how strongly embedded they may be. I should not be concerning myself with those who are not in immediate danger, no matter how strong the bond of kinship may be."

As she fell quiet, she sensed Angrath and The Wanderer shifting in their positions, undoubtedly parsing the sheer density of information she had just foisted upon them. In the ensuing silence, Nissa could feel her skin prickling with anticipation, her animist magic loudly coursing through her system as her connection to Ravnica fluctuated in time with her damped emotions.

Finally, though, the pause was broken by a contemplative snort from Angrath. "There is no shame to be felt over a connection to your home and your kin, Nissa, especially one as apparently strong as yours."

Nissa froze, once again shocked by what her uncontrollably twitching ears had heard. Slowly, she raised her head to meet Angrath's eyes. As she did, she saw no trace of the anticipated scorn or dismissal. Instead, the minotaur's normally fiery gaze had softened, reflecting a simmering, rueful resentment.

"I must say, I am surprised by such a response. It feels very against the more freewheeling nature I have observed in other planeswalkers."

Angrath smirked, his facial movements betraying a deep weight upon them. "One's connections to their home should not be so easily severed by their ability to travel away from it. To have something to return to, to ground you, is far more important than mere strength. I believe that is what truly separates us from Bolas. He has nothing to fight for but himself, which can only lead to ruin for all."

Nissa's eyes rounded in wonder. She had yet to see this vulnerability displayed from the fearsome Angrath, and she could feel his words resonating deep within her chest.

"Are your thoughts also divided, then?" she inquired, making her voice as gentle as possible to avoid any undue accusation.

"Aye," Angrath nodded, "my mind is mostly back home. It is where my daughters are, no doubt waiting for me to return. Ever since my spark ignited, I cannot travel to other planes without their voices and smiles constantly at the forefront. Rumi and Jamira, they are a world to me far greater than the multiverse." His voice suddenly darkened, and Nissa saw his jaw set on edge. "After being trapped by that damn Sun on Ixalan all those years, I vowed I would never leave them unless I knew they were safe. But then came this Beacon, and I yet again found myself separated from them without a means to return. I broke my vow to my family, and I will do whatever I must to see them safe again. Consider yourself lucky, Nissa, for at least you are not so blinded by your connections that you would foolishly side with Bolas, thinking his promises are anything but poisoned."

With this last sentence, Angrath cast his eyes downward to the floor, appearing almost ashamed to meet Nissa's stare. She had already been made aware of Angrath's work alongside Domri Rade, but seeing his remorse firsthand felt entirely different. It was not only sad, but also undoubtedly recognizable to her.

Nissa felt compelled to respond, but her unplanned assurances were halted by The Wanderer's dulcet tone. "That was very well-said, Angrath. I took you for neither the sensitive nor eloquent type, but you've certainly proven me wrong. You mustn't blame yourself for your decision to initially side with Bolas. You've already proven yourself better than those who stay in his shadow, along with all the good you've done since. Though I'm certainly not one to judge. If I was promised an answer to my own prayers, I doubt my choice would have been any different than yours."

Angrath raised his eyes to her, lips still pursed in a grim line. "Thank you. I know my own guilt will never be assuaged, but I will not stop attempting to make up for my transgressions." He paused, looking The Wanderer over from across the room. "You must have something worth fighting for back home as well, something that weighs heavily enough on your heart to make so bold a statement. Is this perhaps why you cover your face so?"

The Wanderer leaned back in her seat, allowing a brief silence before responding. "I suppose you could say that. While you fight for your loved ones, I fight for my home, for the plane itself and all its inhabitants. My spark is unlike either of yours. It is fractured, broken, mercurial. Under normal circumstances, it takes all my concentration to keep my spark from activating and jettisoning me across The Blind Eternities. I have seen far more planes than any walker, I suspect, though never for more than a few breaths before I'm forced away again. Shielding my identity helps to keep my people safe, lest those unsavory characters I find myself crossing paths with think my absence gives them an opportunity to strike. Seeing all that the multiverse has to offer is extraordinary, but I would like nothing more than to return to my home so I may serve my people to the best of my abilities."

She let out a low chuckle, which was mostly muffled by her golden mask. "It is funny, Angrath. You detest the Immortal Sun because it is trapping you here, yet that same feeling has been quite the relief to me. Ever since the Beacon intercepted me on my most recent sojourn, my mind has felt unburdened. If I could capture the Sun for my own use, I gladly would, but alas. All I can do now is fight to keep Bolas from spreading this plague to my home."

Though he visibly stiffened as The Wanderer professed her fondness for the Sun's powers, Angrath eventually relented to her sentiment, slowly nodding along to her final statement.

"It is all we can do, but it must be enough. Bolas and his ilk will fall. As long as we remember what it is we fight for, it must be so." He turned to Nissa, who had been listening silently to the exchange. "Missing your home, thinking about those you have left behind, whether intentionally or not, there can be no shame in that. That is, if you are to believe the two of us, though I doubt you would find a planeswalker on our side who would attest any different. There is no need to fight against such thoughts. I draw my power from my temper, but such fires are only stoked because I know what it is I am hoping to return to. Allow these thoughts to flow freely and guide your work, and they will make you stronger."

"Agreed," added The Wanderer, "I doubt we'll defeat Bolas unless we each give everything we've got. No sense in holding anything back."

Nissa was stunned, her own mind racing to keep up with the approval of her fellow planeswalkers. This left her momentarily unable to find her voice, which she mentally scrounged for. All the while, she could feel their gazes on her, and while Angrath's face seemed incapable of shifting past his perpetual scowl and The Wanderer's remained fully out of sight, Nissa could feel the warm support emanating from them.

"Is everything alright, Nissa?" Angrath eventually asked. "I apologize if our advice is not as specific as would be helpful for your situation. I'm far from a scholar of such mentality."

Nissa shook her head, which was enough to finally dislodge her words. "No, there is no need for you to apologize. Yours words… I find them most helpful. I often worry about letting my emotions run free. Such feelings are often the root source of the conflict and turmoil I have witnessed in my life across the multiverse. Though you are both correct, repressing the part of myself that yearns for Zendikar will only hinder the potency of my magic. I must confess, however, that such vulnerability is something… I have not been comfortable with. It is a problem others have brought to my attention before, one I have contemplated fixing but have since withheld from myself…"

Without intending to do so, Nissa's voice had begun to fade, and by the end of this final sentence, it had gradually slipped into a somber silence. The others did not stir, each wondering what had happened, but Nissa could no longer feel their eyes on her. Her mind had suddenly become far too occupied elsewhere. Restless thoughts pulled her brain in many directions, but she could feel the fiery source that lay at the center of this onset dread. Despite all her talk about her distraction over her people on Zendikar, which was still true in her heart, there was another source of distraction, one she had managed to keep away from the forefront of her mind until now.

'Others' may have said it in passing, but the only one who truly asked this of me is Chandra. She always saw my restraint and wanted to liberate me, to make my thoughts as free as hers. It is just one of the things I so admire about her. Now, though, after what we witnessed atop Vitu-Ghazi…

"Nissa? Everything okay over there?"

She quickly latched onto The Wanderer's voice, holding tight as it forcibly dragged her conscious mind out of the swirling depression. "Hmm? Oh, yes, I am fine, thank you. I apologize, I did not mean to worry you."

"Are you sure?" Angrath added, his gruff tone shifting to one that was almost paternalistic. "Though you hide your emotions well, you sound very worried. Is there another problem with the ritual?"

"No, nothing of that sort. All of this talk, it reminded me of… something else that had been in my thoughts, prior to this mission."

"Something we should be concerned about?" The Wanderer asked.

Nissa hesitated. "No, I do not believe so. It is a… personal matter, one that I have yet to resolve with one of the other planeswalkers."

"You speak of Chandra Nalaar, correct?"

Niv's voice, which had been absent for so long that Nissa had almost accepted the draconic bust as nothing but an empty piece of the room's décor, suddenly shattered her. He spoke no louder than he had before, but the contents of his words made it sound like a booming clarion rebounding within her ears. Hearing Chandra's name spoken aloud, especially without any explicit prompting on her part, threw her mind back into that deep pit, allowing only the meagerest sliver of her voice to escape.

"Once again, I cannot deny your assertion. Were you already aware of this?"

The dragon spirit let out an affirmative breath. "Indeed, though reaching such a conclusion was no difficult feat. It was clear from your interactions with her during the summit meeting. You hide your emotions well, except, it seems, around her. I may be the last truly sapient dragon on Ravnica in over a decamillennium, but even I could understand your connection in those moments."

Nissa reflexively swallowed, unaware that Niv's projected words had caused a lump to form in her throat. Pushing it down into the endless crevasse was simple enough, but the same could not be said for regaining her full composure. Though her voice came back to its normal level, she could feel an odd heat bloom in her face and chest.

"I was not aware that it could be seen so plainly. It is not something I was attempting to hide, but to have it observed strikes me… unusually." She turned away from Niv, looking to Angrath and The Wanderer. "Was this fact apparent to either of you?"

"I was a bit preoccupied during the meeting," The Wanderer shrugged, "so I didn't keep up with everything that happened. If it was obvious, it escaped my notice."

Angrath shook his head. "I'm not sure. Chandra was the young, red-haired woman standing amongst you all, correct? The one who agreed to lead the mission to take down the Sun?"

"Indeed, that is her."

"Then I can't say I remember anything about your interactions. All I can really recall is that deep, scornful look on her face, far grimmer than any other I'd laid eyes on at that time."

At this, Nissa winced. Her limbs stiffened uncomfortably, as if Angrath's words had aroused a set of stinging, burning nettles beneath her skin.

"Yes, that is primarily what I remember as well. You must understand, though, that how she was during the meeting, that is not how she usually presents herself. I have never seen Chandra so cold as she is today. Normally, she is… vibrant. Always full of life, unfettered by the world outside of her head. She burned brightly amidst the fog."

Nissa had not intended for her voice to recede as she continued, but speaking of Chandra, both how she was and how she is, plunged her spirits.

"You really must care deeply for her," said The Wanderer, "to speak so highly of her personage."

This unexpected comment brought a small smile to Nissa's face. "Yes, I do. I care for her more than I think I have ever told her. She is the only person I have ever known to bring out the emotions I keep so hidden, yet it feels almost effortless in her company."

"I understand your distraction in this case. It… must be difficult to see someone you so care for to put themselves in such danger, especially when you are too far away to help them."

"That is certainly a piece of my worry, yes," Nissa muttered. "I wish I could be at her side to fight Dovin instead of here. I do fear for her safety, though I have seen her flames triumph in the face of far greater threats. What truly concerns me…" Another lump in her throat, this time summoned by no one's words but her own. She struggled to push past it, making her voice come out in halting steps. "What truly concerns me is that, even if Chandra returns safe, it may not be the same Chandra I have known."

Nissa forced herself to pause, the wad of intangible sentiment in her windpipe having turned inextricably dense. The room was utterly quiet as she worked to clear her throat, with even the bustle of the refugees in the nearby atrium having faded from her ears. All she could hear now, it seemed, was the warlike beating of her heart, urging her to keep talking.

"It was Chandra's idea to animate Vitu-Ghazi. I believe she meant for it to be a new weapon from Ravnica itself to show the plane's resilience in the face of Bolas' monstrous actions. None of us expected the God-Eternals to arrive and tear us down so easily. It was during their attack that Chandra's mentor died. She fell away from right in front of us, plummeting down to the horde before we could do anything. We had to abandon Vitu-Ghazi before we could even attempt to find her again, but I think we both knew that it would be a futile search.

"I believe Chandra must blame herself for Jaya's death. It is the only explanation I can conceive of for her state. I have seen every type of emotion pour readily from her, but I have never seen her so callously focused as she was before she left here. How she looked at me, how she rebuffed me, it is so unlike the Chandra I have known. I fear that this war has already changed her, and I do not know just how deeply such changes may run."

Believing she had said all she could, Nissa once again slipped into an intense, almost meditative silence. The effort of giving a voice to doubts that, she knew deep down, had started blossoming long before her unplanned arrival on Ravnica, weighed heavily on her brow. While externally, her eyes and ears drooped, her mind was alive with speculation. She could think only of Chandra, of the woman with whom she had shared so much and yet had certainly not shared enough.

It matters not if she blames herself or me for Jaya's fate. The consequence may be the same. Jaya often chastised her for being reckless and out-of-control, but for such control to clamp so tightly and so suddenly around her now…

Nissa became so entangled in her own trellis of uncertainty that it took several seconds to elapse before she registered Angrath's voice pointing in her direction.

"This must simply be more fuel for your fire, then."

Her mind stuttered, unsure if she had heard correctly. She turned to the minotaur, whose eyes narrowed into a stern, serious glare.

"You will forgive me," Nissa said, "but I do not know if I heard you correctly."

Angrath pushed off the bedpost, straightening his terrifyingly impressive posture. "I shall say it again, then. This must simply be more fuel for your fire. It is as clear to me as it must be to the others that you care for Chandra deeply, perhaps as deeply as you do for your home. She must then be another reason to fight, another source of power for your spells from which you cannot shy away."

Nissa swallowed hard, and she felt the lump in her throat shift slightly.

"He's right," The Wanderer interjected, standing up from her seated position with an unnatural grace. "There is no heavier burden than the death of a loved one, especially if they were family in one way or another. But, it is something they must process in their own way, in their own time. It is natural for you to worry, this plane is the furthest spot from safety in the multiverse today, but you have spoken to her capability plenty. The best help you can give Chandra now, both for her safety and her mentality, is to finish preparing for the ritual so that this whole ordeal may be buried with Bolas' corpse."

"I agree," Angrath snorted. "If this is who you fight for, then you must do so with all your strength. No reservations."

As Nissa's eyes bounced back and forth between the two other planeswalkers, the lump continued to dissolve. Its pieces fell, but rather than disappear into the chasm of her stomach, she felt them fill it up, her frame reaffirming with every passing moment. Her breathing returned to a natural rhythm, but it was not the normal pattern to which she was accustomed. It was quicker, more energetic, more purposeful. Like the heated core of Zendikar pushing its wilds to evolve and flourish, she felt compelled by the thoughts that had felt so burdensome locked within her mind. In that moment, Nissa noted, these felt like the first natural breaths she had taken in a long time.

She turned to Angrath and The Wanderer, eyes shimmering with purpose. "Thank you, both of you. I see now what I can do. What I must do. Niv?"

Though the dragon was quiet, he stirred immediately, as if he had been content to simply observe the planeswalkers' interactions. "Yes, Nissa?"

"Let us begin again with the ritual's leyline reformation steps. I believe, this time, my magics will be better attuned to our needs, but I would like to confer with you just to be sure. After all, this plane, and everyone on it, is depending on our success."