Archangel Avacyn's Return

by FanWriterFromInnistrad

The unmaking of Archangel Avacyn at the hands of Sorin Markov weren't what we initially thought. He didn't destroy his most prized creation but protected her by sending her away to rest and recover on her own. What follows is her story, her entry into the multiverse and the ramifications of an indestructible angel as a planeswalker.

5. Incursion

As a disclaimer: I do not own, nor make any money from anything I post on this website. This is a fun exercise and a creative outlet used for practicing my craft. There are also dark themes and trials that the characters within must overcome or fail. So, if you are sensitive to that kind of story, you've been warned to turn away here.

Chapter 4 - Incursion

Leaving Jormund, the largest elven city of Skemfar, was low on Brunhr's list of desires for the day. He'd rather spar in the training grounds or go on patrol. Instead, he was summoned by King Harald's court of Shadowsages, for of course, another secret mission. He was a warrior, not a leader. He was best used as a tool to annihilate their enemies alongside his allies, not in making decisions. His retinue had to be large enough to fend for themselves in case of encounters, yet small enough to remain undetected by any of the human clans. Eight would be enough for the task. Four wood elves including himself and four shadow elves, after King Harald's designs of unification.

While still in Skemfar, they weren't in enemy territory yet. They passed familiar tall trees twisting skyward like antlers and a soft dark mist cloaked the greenery below like the fur of a deer. Occasionally a tuft of pine trees broke the spiky growth while pools of black and green waters surrounded them all in the mysterious woodland swamps of Skemfar. Their destination was unknown but believed to be within the foreign realm of Bretagard. If so, they had to find an omenpath leading their party into that realm, an improbable chance among the many connected to the World Tree. But the court believed that the runed twig in his grasp would be his guide, and it would not fail him.

Brunhr was a good head taller and stockier than the others following him as a Warmaster elf should be, with many scars torn into his skin to prove his worth in battle. He led the others through a darkening tunnel, coiling deep under the thickened brush above. In the deep expanse of trees and smog, he relied on what was familiar to him. His enchanted longsword, magic, and his training. The others in his company all wielded different weapons of choice and magic for their own defense. His ragtag squad of misfits separated themselves, glaring at each other as they traveled. King Harald did his best to unite the elves, but after many years of feuding, war, and strife, unity amongst his kind would be difficult to secure. Brunhr believed in his King's goal, but if the hesitation he felt at the back of his mind was any indication, he believed it would be an impossible task in the end.

"Ugh, when will we get some action? We've been traveling for most of the day," Mattiin said, mirroring his own sentiment though he didn't voice them. The large elf had his battle ax in his hands while he walked with a war-hammer of equal size slung to his back for backup. He claimed to hold it for security reasons, but Brunhr suspected that he was just stubbornly taking both weapons because he couldn't decide which one he wanted to use on this mission.

Elaine placed a hand on the massive shadow elf's shoulder, catching his ire for a moment before softening his gaze. "Calm yourself, Mattiin," she said in her sweet and gentle elderly voice. "This incursion is either a rescue mission or a retrieval. We aren't likely to encounter much resistance in this mission, but the court guides us to always be prepared." Elaine was far older than any of their numbers, yet only a few wrinkles creased the edge of her eyes. The slight sagging of her ears and the drooping of her jowl belied her otherwise youthful face. She was skilled in magic, far more than the rest of them except maybe Njal, her apprentice.

"Of course, you would trust the court," Keyla retorted from the back of an elk. She leaned over towards the elder. "Tell me, don't you resent them for refusing your seat?" Elaine merely shook her head and calmly smiled. "I would," Keyla continued to herself. "Spending all that time and effort to establish the court, then having your seat denied when all is said and done? I'd be mad if you asked me."

"It was not my calling," Elaine said softly. The court was constructed of shadow elves who were King Harald's spies, saboteurs, and agents. Its elders are comprised of only Shadow elves. To contrast, his King had an equal number in the council of war generals made up of only wood elves. Each would council the King on matters relevant to their strengths and advise on their weaknesses. However, the King always had the final say in all things.

"It doesn't help that we haven't seen any wildlife to hunt for our trip," Odessa said, changing the subject much to Elaine's silent gratitude. "I could go for some rabbit or squirrel for a quick meal."

"Or elk, in a pinch," Alvi said, sneering dark eyes at the outrider.

"You wouldn't dare!" Keyla snapped, raising her bow, and reaching for an arrow. The elk bent his head forward, presenting his antlers, and Odessa nearly matched with icy fingers when Brunhr stood between them, glaring. They all flinched at his gaze.

Before they could act, Brunhr turned to Mattiin. "Kindly keep your boy in check before I do it in your stead."

Mattiin nodded and grasped Alvi's shoulder, dragging his son to the back for a secluded talk away from the others. Orrin, Brunhr's younger brother, shook his head with a chuckle. He stood beside Brunhr watching Mattiin argue with Alvi, his own sword by his side and a shield slung to his back with a long belt around his shoulders. "Kids, they don't know the meaning of respect."

"Or their elders don't know how to teach them properly," Njal interjected, leaning on her blackened staff. Scaled black snake tattoos twisted and coiled up her arms, while a short white cape wafted behind her. "Don't dismiss him just yet. He's still learning. And with growth comes experience, then wisdom."

Orrin snorted. "Yeah! I'd love to see the day when the young get wise."

"It's happened before," she said, smiling at him. "Look at me. I'm a perfect example of a wise youth."

"Easy Njal," Elaine said, her elegant tone measured. "While your ego may not be as large as Alvi's, it has gotten you in trouble time and time again. Wisdom means knowing when to talk and when to keep your mouth shut," Elaine gave her a knowing look of practiced patience. Njal nodded in respect and silenced herself, and Brunhr could see Orrin's subtle nod of approval. His own approval was toward the elder. Her old age would have cost her a spot on the squad, but Njal insisted on bringing her mentor along, despite their slowed pace. "Besides, I see his potential," she continued. "He is young, fast, and boastful. His magic is powerful as Mattiin claims, I've seen it. A little rough around the edges, but they can be smoothed out over time. He just needs the wisdom of experience, and we as a group can give it to him. We can make him a fine warrior as long as we work together."

Brunhr stepped up next to her, now understanding why Njal insisted the way she did. Elaine was not just here for her magical prowess or her knowledge, she was here for their morale. Brunhr knew he had a reputation for strength, and that many feared him, but those attributes were what made for the best kind of leadership in his mind. Mutual fear and respect. Or was it just fear? It ate him alive, like a quiet but festering wound he tried to hide in his soul. He doubted his usefulness as a Warmaster since all he truly cared for was the battle. The others respected her in the way that they feared him, and a spike of jealousy raged in his heart at her ability to inspire respect rather than submission, but he stamped it down. He saluted the elder with quiet respect instead. "For the next generation."

Elaine nodded, returning his salute. "For the next generation."

Mattiin finished up by grabbing one of the saddlebags off the back of Keyla's elk and forced Alvi to carry it alongside his own pack. "Since your hands are free, carry the food for a while. Maybe then you'll learn to respect your allies," Mattiin nodded to Brunhr and fell back into his place in their marching order.

Shaking his head, Brunhr twitched his ears in annoyance at the delay. Their previous silent march was unnerving, but maybe they could do this task after all, with a little bonding. A battalion such as theirs wouldn't survive without learning their strengths and weaknesses, so a little abrasion at the start was normal. He didn't like working with new recruits right out of the woods, but he also did what he was told. In answer to his silent plea for guidance, a quiet thrum of power emanated from the twig in his hand.

Njal stopped in her tracks as the tunnel opened, forcing everyone to freeze, her eyes darted around, and she inhaled sharply. Her staff was poised and ready to cast a magical spell. "Do you sense that?" she asked in a low whisper, looking around eagerly. Elaine nodded but kept silent.

Brunhr stepped up beside her with his free hand on the longsword at his waist. The others stopped and remained alert. "No, Njal. What is it?"

"Power. I do believe your omenpath is nearby," she said happily and took a step back, she took the twig from Brunhr's hand with a smirk on her face. Soft incantations left her lips, and a nearly invisible wave emanated from her hand as she circled the ground around them. The others shuffled nervously, the soft clinking of weapons breaking the intense quiet of the forest mire down at the end of the tunnel.

Brunhr took the moment of reprieve to bring Elaine aside, hopefully out of earshot while Njal worked. "Elaine, how do you do it?"

"Do what, my dear?"

"You command respect in a way I can't when you interact with everyone."

Her brow ticked up at this, but after a moment her face softened with understanding. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Fear is a useful tool for the young and uninitiated, for without it, they themselves grow up unafraid of the unknown. And that could lead them to their death. Leading through fear is not a detriment to your character, but one tool out of many that you can use."

"How do I change that?" Brunhr asked.

"That is up to you, Koma willing. Your efforts in leadership will reflect who you are as a Warmaster, if you wish to obtain respect, adjust your attitudes to match your resolve over time as your charge begins to understand you and your ways. It may feel fake at first, but in time, it will begin to feel real," Elaine said, and Brunhr sighed. He would have a lot of work to do.

Njal stepped up to a large moss-covered stone jutting out of the bog, a small landing leading up to a crest on the rock. And as she reached out, the twig flung itself from her hand and erupted into a coiling vortex of vines and leaves wide enough for two elves to walk abreast if need be. Within that circle, the wind from the other realm blew a gust of snow back towards them, blowing away the smoke of the bog beneath the rocky step.

Brunhr dropped his pack and knelt to open it. "Alright, grab your cloaks. By the mercy of the Einir this omenpath leads to our goal, but winter is strong in Bretagard this season." Everyone else followed suit, wrapping heavy cloaks around themselves to shield them from the worst of the cold. Brunhr was the first to step in, drawing his blade as he did.

Avacyn stood atop the barn, watching over the small clearing in the woods where the family called home on this quiet morning. She flexed her healed wings with a deep and gleeful breath, finally unbound and free, as they should be. The sudden rush of emotions stirring inside caught her off guard. Happiness and relief. These emotions made her keenly aware of something inside her changing. She wasn't sure if it was permanent or not, and that frightened her. She wanted things to go back to how they should be, to be the guardian of a people against the horrors of the night. Stoic and unchanging. Not an archangel lost in exile, torn from her strength in magic and power. She shook her thoughts away with a shudder, trying to think of what was ahead of her instead. According to Sorin, there was a multiverse out there to learn about. She was encouraged to do so, but she didn't want that. She wanted to go back home to Innistrad. To see what her sisters were up to in her absence, it couldn't be good, given how she had encouraged their activities of late.

But Innistrad was still closed to her. She checked again, and the same type of magic that had locked her inside the Helvault, prevented her from returning home. It felt off. She no longer felt the connection she once had to Innistrad, and the source of mana within her was fractured and corrupted. Something else was burgeoning deep inside her, a small source of power within that yearned to be bonded to something or someone. Her mana was repairing itself all too slowly. There wasn't much she could do to accelerate her magical healing other than relying on someone else, but Feyra said there was nothing more she could do about it. The magic itself might change, or maybe a new version of her old magic may manifest itself. She had no way of knowing what it could be, its transformation was miniscule at best, but she felt it. Avacyn was going through a crucible, and whatever choices she would make would affect the result of her magic. She had time on her side to relearn who she was and what it could be. At least she was still indestructible after a fashion. So, for now, she had a debt to repay and staying would be ideal. She just didn't know how to go about asking without complicating things, and Feyra was making that difficult.

"Avacyn!" Feyra called from below with a wrapped bundle in her hands. Viggo stood by her side with Ambreya in his arms. Avacyn stepped forward off the roof to gently float down on outstretched wings, barely crunching snow beneath her feet as she landed. Ambreya watched with wide eyes, awestruck. Avacyn was used to adoration like this, but normally that was from strangers and followers of her faith. Well, former faith now. She never stayed with anyone for as much time as she spent with this family. Although it was only mere days, almost a week, with them. And as she got to know who they were, the more attached she felt, which shouldn't be normal. Not for an Archangel. "Here," Feyra handed over the bundle.

"What is it?" Avacyn asked, slowly unwrapping it.

"I'd imagine traveling the realms as a lone Valkyrie might make it difficult to blend in, so I made you a cloak of assimilation," the elven woman said. "Yours is my prototype. It still works and is too big for Amber, but I prefer to use my finished product. The magic embroidered into the fabric will transform your body to look human whenever you wear it."

Avacyn held up the cloak, the fabric was a bland looking brown except for the hem of the hood, where intricate runes and artistic designs coiled around it. Behind the hood a wreath of brown fur wrapped around the shoulders and the fabric extended down to her knees. "I can't take this; you've already done so much for me."

"It wasn't my idea, so just take it and go," she said, earning a look from Viggo.

"Try it on," Viggo said.

Avacyn flipped the cloak over her head and fastened it around her neck. At first, the cloak didn't do anything but hang between her wings. And as she became aware of the foreign magic that desired to affect her, she cautiously accepted the changes it would make. It slowly changed from a natural brown fur cloak to a dark black, and the fur around her neck shifted to match the snow beneath her feet. As it reflexively changed to suit her preferences, a silvery-white Avacynian collar split down the middle carved its way down the back of the fabric, surrounded by coils of runes and symbols unfamiliar to her. She folded in her silver tipped wings underneath and felt them slip through the cloak behind her. It was an odd sensation, knowing she had wings, while also having a bare wingless back. As the magic finished assimilating to her needs, gentle snowflakes descended from underneath the knee-length black cloak to fade away before hitting the ground.

"Aw, where did your wings go?" Ambreya asked.

Viggo cocked his head in confusion. "Huh, I thought your eyes would change to look more human, but I guess the wings took priority."

"Yeah, they're still that creepy all-white," Feyra said, visibly and mockingly shuddering.

Avacyn tried extending her wings while they weren't there, and the others jumped back in surprise. Semi-ethereal wings of ice and snowflake-shaped feathers where her feathered wings should have been extended out from behind the back of the cloak. "Is this supposed to happen?" Avacyn asked.

Feyra shook her head, while Viggo smiled. "I guess things worked out for you then. Now you look more like a human with the ability to fly, rather than a Valkyrie posing as a human. But be warned, the magic may be disrupted by surges of great mana, so have a care for how much mana you use in a single spell."

Avacyn nodded. "I understand."

"Can you still fly?" Ambreya asked.

The girl got her answer when Avacyn hopped and lifted herself up with an upward surge from her icy wings, she did a quick circle in the air before landing. Her wings vanished into a puff of misty white smoke before dissipating. As she herself assimilated to the magic and its changes in full, she remembered something. "Do you still have my armor?"

Viggo nodded and handed Ambreya over to Feyra and walked inside their little hut. Feyra watched him go, almost eager to avert her eyes.

"I still don't understand why I have to go," it was a lie, but Avacyn wasn't going to leave with this tension in the air.

Feyra spun, eyes blazing in anger. "I've told you; I do not trust you!"

"Trust? You can trust me! I promise you that I won't do anything to hurt you or your family!"

"How would I know that? We barely know each other!"

"That could be remedied by me staying here to pay back the debt I owe you for healing me," Avacyn insisted. There it was again, emotion burning away at her soul.

"That is unacceptable," Feyra said coldly, rejecting her. "I have to do right by my family, and that means no strangers living in our barn," she glared at Avacyn with a heated gaze that would thaw even the coldest of winter chills. "You will not find whatever redemption you seek here, nor do you deserve it. Leave us, little goddess, and entertain yourself elsewhere."

Avacyn burned. Her anger grew hot, her face red and her chest burned. But one look into Ambreya's worried eyes forced whatever she would have said in anger to be dropped. It wouldn't be right to ignite her rage any further. Calming herself took some effort and a few deep breaths. Still, the anger wasn't leaving her no matter how hard she tried. So she settled for unrighteous indignation. "What little trust you have in others, Feyra, is unfair. People can be better than you assume. All it takes is a little faith," she said.

Feyra snorted. "That's rich coming from you."

"I will try to do better; you have to believe me!"

Feyra turned away again. "I'll never believe anything a god like you has to say." And with that, Avacyn had her answer. She had no hope of redeeming anything with anyone, and her heart sank at this realization. If even her healer wouldn't accept her, what hope would she have for her own followers back home?

Ambreya squeezed Tusk as tight as she could. A look of great sadness and worry blanketed her face as she looked between the two of them. "Are you really leaving?" Ambreya finally asked, and Feyra stiffened, as if she realized only then that she was carrying the child.

Avacyn sighed. "I'd like to stay, but I can't," she said softly, glancing at the girl's mother before reaching out to pat the girl's shoulder. "I will return, I can promise you that much."

Feyra scoffed as she stepped aside, making way for Viggo to return with her armor. "Don't promise something like that if you don't intend on keeping it," Feyra muttered as Viggo gave her a pointed gaze, which she met with equal defiance.

Ignoring the barb, Avacyn looked inside the sack to see her blackened Moonsilver armor, clinking in all its disjointed, menacing terror. The armor had morphed into this spiked monstrosity, twisted to inspire fear, there were spikes ascending from its pauldrons and sharp talons replacing her fingered gauntlets. She dropped the sack and called to it with a familiar and ancient celestial word, and the armor flew up and wrapped around her in moments. It felt… alien to wear it again, while also freeing to know that she had Moonsilver on her person again, distorted though it was.

"I thought you didn't have access to your magic?" Feyra asked accusingly.

"I don't, not really. It is slow in its recovery. This is an armor crafted by ancient Moonsilver smiths back home. It was blessed by my three sisters when my church first began," Avacyn remembered the truth that she had set aside long ago with regret. Had Liesa truly deserved such fury? She may have consorted with demons, but was that any worse than slaughtering half of Innistrad? "No, by my four sisters, in truth," she said quietly before resuming her explanation. "Runes are carved into every fiber within the Moonsilver which allows it to answer when I call it, magic or no magic by word upon my lips. I can even make it vanish," she did so with another word, and it vanished and reappeared as she said. Avacyn examined her black feather-spiked gauntlets, lowering her head in shame. "Though it didn't look like this at all. Things really did change for me near the end of my…" She looked up to see concern in Viggo's eyes and confirmed suspicion in Feyra's. "Well, if that is everything, farewell."

"Avakin don't go," Ambreya pleaded.

Feyra comforted the child, and Avacyn nearly crumpled at the impending loss. She knew for herself that she had to go, though Feyra's words confirmed it. Despite that debt that had accumulated, staying here was an excuse to try and ease her own suffering, a longing she didn't need. These people had lives of their own. And Feyra didn't want her there, she couldn't stay no matter how much she wanted to. Her presence might bring about danger to this innocent family. She had no idea if or when she would see them again, or even if she would despite her promise, but she would try. Avacyn was always a vortex for trouble, which finds her no matter what she tries.

And it was not in her nature to hide from it, for she would seek it out to protect the weak and innocent when the need arose, and after they were safe, she would move on to the next danger. Only resting when the church needed her guidance on matters of faith. Because of this, she had never put down tangible roots in the presence of her flock, and wasn't meant to. Sure, she interacted with people in her church before recent times, but it was fleeting at best. Mere moments in a single day, yet she spent almost a week with this family. Members would pass away after their short lifetime, so the bond that formed between her and Ambreya in her vulnerable state was much more powerful than anything she felt before. It would be hard to break the bond that was beginning to grow. Better to sever it sooner rather than later. Turning around, she extended her icy wings and pushed up into the skies leaving them behind, holding back tears. She was normally impassive about so many things, so the fact that she felt pain as she departed hurt more than any physical wound. As she rose into the sky, she drew upon the spark within her and dropped into the blind eternities, leaving behind quickly freezing tears to fall upon Bretagard below.

Feyra couldn't help but sulk at Amber's sour mood. Ever since the Valkyrie left the day before, she would keep herself in the barn and wouldn't play with anyone as much as she used to. And whenever she did, she would always pretend to fly. Feyra, for the briefest of moments, regretted ever banishing their guest without allowing her child a flight with her before remembering that she didn't know the Valkyrie. Not really.

Amber knew it was her fault, despite trying to keep herself neutral about it in front of her daughter. But it was hard to see her child acting like this. Amber would forgive her in time, but it still hurt, and she wanted to fix the rift between them before it was too late. Amber was alone for the most part. The village didn't have many children her age, and she couldn't go there often anyways since they were both elves in a realm of humans. She was hoping to change that with the cloak of assimilation that she was making her. But even more so with her deepest secret, one that she hadn't told even her husband yet. It wasn't confirmed yet, but she had her suspicions. For now, maybe she'd go to the village and grab her daughter's favorite treat from the market. She could spare the coins even if it was expensive. Feyra just hoped that it would soothe Amber's anger.

The air around her… It was too quiet, so she raised her guard, worrying that it was something terrible. She hoped it was just another bear, but it could be anything. She would do a perimeter check before retiring for the night. So, she went to the shed to grab some tools for her evening duties, trying to keep her peripheral vision in check while acting normally. It was nearing nightfall, and it was cool and clear as Feyra opened the barn door to find Amber quietly playing with Tusk on the bed. She'd have to ask Viggo to move the bed back to the shed with her later, but for now it remained in the barn. "Amber, what time is it?"

Amber didn't meet her eyes which caused her heart to ache in regret. "Bedtime?" she said softly.

"Yes, now go." Amber obeyed reluctantly. "Quickly now, make sure you kiss your father goodnight." Amber left without closing the door. Feyra watched her go, to make sure that she made it to safety before starting her evening duties.

After about three minutes of working in the barn, Feyra finally confirmed her sense of dread when a presence behind her appeared in the doorway. She flung a sharp arrowhead from the void in the figure's direction. It was caught between two fingers before dissipating into shadows. "Now is that any way to greet your sister?" Keyla said. "And after so long apart?"

"It is when you skulk in the shadows, trying and failing to keep yourself silent," Feyra said sharply and without a hint of familial affection. "What are you doing here?"

Keyla entered the barn, surveying the interior with keen green eyes, a mark she inherited from their late mother. She wore the traditional borealis outrider garb with her own gilded recurve bow slung to her back, no doubt her elk would be nearby within earshot to command. "What, no small talk?" She said with her casual fake smile presenting open palms to feign innocence.

Feyra knew better than to fall for such an act. She shook her head, circling the barn opposite her sister, keeping herself at an appropriate distance while hoping to reach the window or the door. "What's to stop me from calling for help?"

"I have seven other warriors with me, waiting for my return just outside the fence of your… hermitage." Feyra's eyes widened, and her older sister smiled. "So, you know what will happen if you refuse us."

Feyra gritted her teeth. "Again, what are you here for? Because I'm not going back, and I doubt you're here for a family reunion."

Keyla took a deep breath, letting it out in a puffed cloud in the chilled night air. "We're not here for you, though you are a nice surprise."

Feyra cocked her head in confusion. If they weren't here for her then who… Then it clicked. "Why? She's just a little girl. You don't need her."

"The King calls upon her."

"Why does Harald need her? What makes her so special?" Keyla's smile widened with every question, much to Feyra's growing fear and anxiety. "There are children back on Skemfar, why go so far out of your way to take one child from an entirely different realm?"

"War will be upon us, and she will be required to train for it," Keyla said.

"War is always upon us."

"This will be a great and terrible war. King Harald had foreseen it. His niece will be the blade that will strike our enemies down, or so Elaine believes in his interpretation. We can train her with our best warriors so that she can be well prepared for it when it comes."

"She's five!" Feyra protested.

"You and I were about that age when we first took up arms against the shadow elves. We will need every hand against these usurpers and their legions! Now that King Harald has united us, we can work towards our collective vengeance against the gods together."

"Harald hasn't united anyone. Wood and shadow elves will always be at each other's throat. That's why he still hasn't conquered Skemfar. It is the nature of each realm of Kaldheim to be at war. We have found peace here, away from all your conflicts, so why can't you leave us alone? We don't want any part of your war!" Feyra said, hoping to sway her sister's heart. An impossible task, for she never listened to her younger sibling, not for anything. "Keyla, please. Tell Harald to leave us alone."

The smile on her face vanished, replaced with anger. "You will address him as your King!"

"He isn't my King any longer. He gave up that right when he left me and our mother to die."

"He didn't-" She exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You know it wasn't like that," she said. "Come with us, and you can take your place by his side again, by my side."

"And If I refuse?"

Keyla's eyes grew dark as she turned to face her, all her feigned mirth vanishing to cold apathy. "You know what will happen." She paused, her face softening ever so slightly. "I don't want to lose you again, so come with us. Bring your daughter and leave the human behind," she said with such scorn that Feyra recoiled. "He means nothing. You belong with your people, with your family."

"Family? You're not even going to ask me how I survived, how mom died? Am I truly family? Or is it your mission that you truly care about as it always has been, no matter the cost?" Keyla winced, and the silence between them froze much colder than the winter's snow. It hurt, cutting deep into Keyla's insecurities, but it was the only way to get through to her. "If mother was still alive, she might be ashamed of me, but she would be furious at you." Keyla's resolve hardened as her eyes narrowed, no doubt she would complete her mission, as always, regardless of anything that would stand against her. "This is my family," Feyra said, cutting the air like a knife. "And they matter more to me than any mission from your King. I will not let you nor anyone else take them away from me. Take your warriors and go tell your King that his family lives and refuses to bow to a traitor."

"Careful, Fey," she cautioned slowly using the childhood nickname for her. "The others don't know you're my sister. I convinced Brunhr to let me try talking to you without revealing your identity."

Feyra grew cold at the mention of the Warmaster's name but hid her inner panic as best she could. If Brunhr was here, there wasn't any doubt that she could die. Viggo would die for sure. Feyra had to act quickly, but before she could, Keyla shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I tried," she said, turning towards the open door. Livyrsa appeared, and Keyla squatted, pulling out a ration of dried meat to give her. "You bonded a wolf? How surprising after your last failure." A faint and familiar twirl of magic enveloped the food in her sister's hand. "Aw, who's a good wolf?" she said playfully scratching behind Livyrsa's ears. Livyrsa quickly devoured the food, panting happily, enraptured by the outrider's charm and eager for more attention and food. "Maybe you can join me instead of my sister," she said, stinging Feyra with more than just an insult. Keyla always had a way with animals, as she was trained in the art of magically handling wildlife, bending them to her will. "You have until tomorrow at dusk to comply, or we will take your daughter by force," she said, standing to leave. She half turned her face with a solemn expression veiled in the night. "It was nice to see you again," she paused, quieting her voice to a murmur. "I… thought you were dead." Feyra moved to try and connect with her sister again but steeled herself. This woman was no longer the girl who she chased through the forest at night. Never again would they catch starflies in tiny nets, their joyful laughter echoing in the twilight hours. They were both hardened to the cruel realities of life on Kaldheim. "Either say your goodbyes and come with us, or prepare to meet your end," She leaned on the door frame, looked back, and sneered at her. "It's a pity. Such a sad life you have now, you've lost your edge. Maternity suits you, Fey." Livyrsa sat there watching her vanish while Feyra dropped everything, running to her family.

During the night, Feyra and Viggo were getting ready to leave while Amber slept. "We have to go! There are too many of them and we can't fight them all," Feyra said in a loud whisper, throwing clothes in a bag, and attaching it to the dog's saddle. Livyrsa was nowhere to be seen, but she packed the saddlebag anyway. She strapped the extra short sword to her belt, slung her pack over her shoulder, and readied her bow and side quiver last. "Plus, if Brunhr is here, he would slaughter the both of us on his own without hesitation in a frontal assault. If I know him and his training, it would be better to try and sneak by them without a fight."

Viggo grabbed more of their foodstuffs for the road. "Why can't we stand and fight for it? Or at least call for aid from the Frostpine militia. This is our home, and we can't just abandon it."

"There's no time, we won't survive a siege. And there are eight of them out there waiting for my answer," she said. "You think you can stand against them?"

"Eight of them huh? Well, I've fought you before, and won," he said casually.

She smirked, and despite the worrisome situation, Viggo was making her smile. "Yeah, a few times, but that was mostly training. This time we're severely outnumbered and they will kill us. Our only choices are dying here or escaping to Frostpine," Feyra said. "I don't see any other good options. I will not separate our family, I love you too much for that, and your death would be too much for me to bear," She stepped up to meet his eyes, pleading silently to him. "Do you understand? There aren't any good choices here, so I choose the one where we are most likely to stay alive and together."

He let out a long breath. "Yeah, I know. I just hate that we have to run."

She reached up to his scraggly beard with a loving hand. He smiled down at her, understanding and accepting without words, but the worry in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "When we run into trouble," Feyra continued. "Let me handle them, you take Ambreya and run. I'll hold them off as best I can."

"You take Ambreya, and I'll fight them off. I can handle a few elves," Viggo said stubbornly in his Beskaren way. It's one of the many reasons she fell in love with him. "If I'm to die, I'll die in battle protecting what I love."

"Against eight elves? No, you have to take her. The point is to try and not die." Oh, how she loved this man, but he was as stubborn as a rock. Nothing short of a tremor in the ground could move him, and she was about to cause an earthquake. "They're here for Amber." He started at this, but she interrupted his questions with a finger on his lips. "They probably won't kill me because I am their kin, but they will kill you. I'm hoping you'll have a better chance at surviving if you're the one to hold her as we run, since they don't want to kill her," Feyra said, lying about her own chance of survival if they were caught running.

Viggo nodded reluctantly, clearly having more than one question on his mind, yet he resigned himself to his role. He understood. To survive this night, they'd both need to compromise their personal stubbornness. He squeezed her into a tight and loving embrace and they kissed. The burden of the task at hand was heavy on their shoulders, and they kissed like it was their last. Feyra had to hold back her emotions and failed. She wanted to kiss him with all that she had, to hold him, sequester him away from the fate that likely awaited them. But she broke it off early. "If we can make it to the village, we might have a chance at rallying their soldiers for help. There we can stand and fight, we only have to make it there first."

Viggo sighed. "We head to Frostpine." He grabbed his sword. After slinging his shield behind him, he gently scooped a slumbering Amber up with his shield arm. Feyra wrapped a yawning Amber in her half-finished cloak of assimilation, which didn't have enough power to hide the shape of her ears, so she wrapped her head with a large scarf. "I just hope that Baldurahm is awake at this hour," Viggo said, leaving their home with a forlorn look at the mess they left behind.

Feyra followed close behind wrapping her own cloak of assimilation around her, something inside her told her to call for the Einir for guidance, but she rejected that idea. The Einir, if they would bother replying to anyone, would rather aid their opponents. And the Skoti wouldn't help an elf. But maybe there was another who could. Despite her rage at the gods, she needed a miracle. "Avacyn, if you can hear me, we need your help. Our enemies surround us, and they will take Amber away if you don't do something." She waited for a reply, anything from the cosmos as a sign in answer. Nothing. No sense of a reply on the winds, nor a feeling of calm serenity to reassure her. "Of course, without her divine magic she wouldn't hear me anyways," she muttered to herself. It was pointless to try calling the Valkyrie. She called for Livyrsa instead, but the wolf had vanished. Everything was stacked against them, no Valkyrie, no wolf, no time. "Keyla, you traitor," she muttered under her breath.

"Keyla isn't the traitor here, you are," a deep voice called out to them. Feyra dropped the pack, raising her bow with a shade arrow already nocked and aimed at her target. "Ah, I see you have been trained by the shadow sages. Which means you are no ordinary traitor, wood elf."

"Brunhr, let us leave," Feyra tried, desperately looking around, almost glad that he didn't recognize her. If he was alone, which was highly unlikely at this time, the two of them might be able to survive his initial assault. But she didn't know where the others were. He stood between them and the wooden gate to freedom. The barn was to their right, near the gate, but Feyra knew that it would be useless to try and hide there. There were no locks, nor anything but the bed to block the door. She met his eyes, which glowed faintly with a forest green light, enhancing his night vision. "We have no trouble with Skemfar," she pleaded. "We have no trouble with you."

"Have I seen you before?" he asked, and a surge of worry pierced through Feyra's mask of focus.

Feyra looked around for her sister, but she was likely off containing Livyrsa away from the battle. "Not likely."

"In any case, I was happy to allow you time to say your goodbyes, I would have left you alone if you'd have just let me take the girl without a fight," Brunhr said. "I'm not a cruel man, but I have no patience for chasing you down. Especially when you change yourself to hide among humans, among usurpers," He growled. "Tell me, when did you stoop so low as to fraternize with the enemy?"

"They're my family," Feyra said desperately, her arms quivering. The shadow arrow nearly dissipated in her hands, but she held on. She stood in front of the only things in her life that brought her any joy, and Brunhr was ready to steal them away. Viggo would die by his hands, and Amber would be lost to her forever. She would not let that happen. "You can take me, Brunhr." Viggo started at this, but Feyra ignored her husbands outburst. "Take me and let them go. I will be more than enough to satisfy your King."

He nodded, as if to ponder that thought, then shrugged unsheathing his longsword. "But I have a duty to bring that girl back with me. Her, not you. I will go through you by whatever means necessary to get her. You may have a chance to live, but the human dies. No matter what."

She let go of the bowstring with a shout of rage, sending the arrow flying into the night towards her foe. In the dark, the arrow would have been impossible to see. But for his eyes, which illuminated shadows by magical means. That meant that he saw its trajectory and he ducked to avoid it. The arrow missed, but Feyra triggered her secondary spell and the arrowhead exploded with green vines around him, encasing half of him and pulling him backwards onto the snowy ground. He fell into the clump of vines, his longsword held up above him. Feyra used the opportunity to pull Viggo and Amber with him. "Hurry, it won't-"

"Mattiin, Alvi, Engage!" Brunhr called out orders. "The rest of you, overwatch! Don't let them escape!"

"Mommy? Daddy, what's happening?" Amber asked, and Feyra could feel the trembling in her voice. The poor girl didn't know what was happening, and there was no time to explain or comfort her. Feyra shot a couple more arrows behind them as Viggo opened the wooden gate that led to their dirt path towards Frostpine. The road was painfully long, and as quickly as the chase began, it ended abruptly as an elf stood on the path ahead.

His small and lithe form was wreathed in shadows which melded into the dark of night around him, obscuring him from view. He left just enough of an impression to allow them to see him in their way. "Where'd you think you're going?" he sneered, pulling out a short sword. Feyra didn't have time to respond when a massive bulk slammed her aside, grappling her to the ground. He was about to raise his ax and strike with one large hand. Viggo wasn't idle, with a short surge of light emanating from his sword, temporarily blinding the elf, knocking him off of her with a swift kick before he could pin her down. He leveled his sword at the larger shadow elf, but at that moment the small one came in and their blades clashed. The elf was at a disadvantage for he was avoiding the girl in Viggo's arm, while Viggo was backing away keeping Amber as far away from danger as he could manage. Feyra got to her feet, and the three of them were quickly surrounded again as they were forced back towards the barn. More of the raiders appeared around them, boxing them in. Brunhr burst from the mass of vines and leaped to his feet, growling quietly like Sarulf himself reincarnated in elf form.

"Avacyn…" Feyra muttered, slinging her bow, and pulling out her short sword. It would be better suited for fighting in close quarters. "Now would be a good time to arrive."

Amber looked at her, and Feyra's heart sank at the fear in her eyes. All the memories they had together flashed before her eyes. Her birth, her first words, her first steps, her first… She could go on and on. She wished that there was time to see the woman that Amber would grow up to become. But Feyra wouldn't get that chance. Amber would be taken from her, set on a course without the freedom to choose her own path. That was something Feyra could not accept since she herself knew what it meant to finally be free. She raised her sword, resigned to whatever death would come.

Brunhr stepped up to them, his blade at the ready. "You had your chance of giving up peacefully, so now we'll have to get bloody," he said.

Everyone moved to attack, and Amber screamed with all of her might. "Avakin! Help us!"

In the blind eternities, the prayers of Avacyn's followers deafened her ears. She could feel them suffering on Innistrad. Something monumental was happening, and she couldn't reach them. She had lost her powers, which would have grown exponentially in concert with the needs of her people. And this time, it was far greater than any time she had ever experienced before. She could hear them. Shouts of fear, sorrow, pain, horror, and death filled her ears until they throbbed. The curses in her name as souls perished clawed at her sanity. She couldn't answer them, for she had none of her magic to give. She could not appear, because the way home was blocked. She could not fight, for her sins were still too fresh on her mind. Yet her faithful's dwindling cries for aid compelled her to beat at the seemingly impenetrable glass wall preventing her re-entry into Innistrad. Avacyn would suffer any curse, pain, and torment, if only she could break down this barrier to save her people. She searched the vast space between planes for other ways in, but nothing happened. Her own shouts were drowned out in the silent fog that clung to her. Its chaotic energy pulsed against her skin, threatening to tear her apart the longer she remained between planes, but her natural indestructibility negated any physical pain she would feel. Here in the endless darkness and the infinite lights between worlds, something else, a power far beyond her imagination, tickled the back of her mind. As if something extended tendrils around her neck, tightening the noose. It had a hold on Innistrad, and its strength was far greater than her own now. Its familiarity gnawed at her subconscious, buzzing at her, tempting her with a purity she suddenly felt she could not deny. The shapeless form coalesced before her, its massive bulk split down the middle to reveal its mental eye, haloed in a vibrant cool light of many colors. Though its gaze was upon other things, it was a shape not meant to be seen by mortals or the divine. Yet it grew in form, surrounding the entirety of the plane's border as its physical body began to move across her home. Avacyn could feel it… no, she could feel her presence, in that space between the planes, soaring above the lands she knew too well, and in her mind, it ravaged the people she should have protected. The eldritch horror loomed towards Thraben where the greatest battle Avacyn couldn't partake in would occur.

"Avakin!" A child's voice broke through the cacophony of prayers and madness, clear in her mind, pulling her back to Kaldheim and into Bretagard. This magic was familiar to her, faint and nearly destroyed though it was. A mere ember with the potential for an inferno. Ambreya was in danger and in her faith, no, in her time of need she had called her. For one so young had no true concept of what faith was. That was all Avacyn needed to break free from the monstrosity in the void. She used up every bit of that faith magic to return as swiftly as she could to the one voice among millions that she could act upon.

"Help…" In between thoughts and words, even before the formation of them, she was in Kaldheim. The darkness of night over Bretagard was a veil unhindered in her eyes as she dove down towards the fray. She could see six figures surrounding the small clearing with three more out in the woods, the six attackers were closing in around the barn where three people were backed into the wall. Her sense for battle, honed by a millennium of conflict, consumed her thoughts.

"...us!" Avacyn crashed between the family and their aggressors with a burst of wind and snow. Avacyn slowly stood up straight, her icy wings outstretched in full to shield them from any sudden attacks. She eyed the enemies that surrounded them, and the elves, taken aback by her sudden appearance, faltered.

"Ambreya, I heard your call, and I answer," Avacyn said coldly, focusing solely on defense rather than comfort for the moment.

"Avacyn?" Viggo said, surprised.

"You… You came?" Feyra asked. "How? Why?"

"Get inside the barn and close the door. Shutter the window and make sure it cannot open," Avacyn commanded quietly. "I will protect you."

"Don't kill them. Please, Avacyn," Feyra said.

"I make no guarantees," Avacyn replied. She held her ground, waiting for the door to close before vanishing her wings inside her cloak.

The elven warrior before her sighed. "So, another one to die then. That was impressive, falling from the sky like that. That item you wear might prove advantageous for our kingdom."

"Is there no course for peace?" Avacyn asked, a multitude of battle scenarios ran through her mind as her opponents gathered before her. Options for defense, incapacitation, or intimidation flooded her mind, along with that nagging sensation of slaughter that if provoked, would incur disaster. For now, she had to keep the elves away from the barn to allow for the escape of those hiding within.

"Peace? Why would you seek peace? This is Kaldheim, warrior," he said, falling into his battle stance. Nearby two more of the six known enemies moved to strike. "Peace was never a choice."

Avacyn noticed two forms with glowing wings looming over the canopy of trees but had no time to question why they were here. "So be it," Avacyn readied herself for the battle to come.

Author's Note

Oh boy, things are ramping up! Timeline-wise this takes place while Emrakul is invading Innistrad so I really wanted to create a scenario where Avacyn could gaze upon the Eldrazi from outside the planes. This image (while short in the chapter) had been on my mind for a while, setting up drama, despair, and desperation all in one scene. Sorry for the delay of this chapter, a long series of life events had interfered with my motivations these past few months, so I had to devote more time to recovering myself. I'm still writing (thank goodness), and chapters may come faster now that things have slowed down and I can finally manage my life. When writing this chapter, it kind of had to be split multiple times since it was sooo long, meanwhile more and more tiny additions just kept popping up in my head to add to the "flavor" for the chapters and smooth out some disjointed moments. I had trouble finding good places to break them apart but decided to stick with the longest version in the end. This is a much longer chapter than I'm used to, but I hope y'all think it's a good one. I truly hope you enjoy part one of the midpoint chapters in the first arc.