Duel of the Gemini

Epiphany

“Where are you?!” Sorin bellowed out into the darkness. Cruel expressions on the faces of a hundred stone angels offered no answer in the cold hall of the Temple of Orzhova. The full moon gave each of the silent vigils a dominating presence in the form of far cast shadows. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped slowly, cutting through the still air.
The Black mage let his magic pour out into the empty hall, over the deserted pews and stone vestibules, feeling its way, searching. Not caring for the fact that it would give away his own position he pushed harder, sure that he’d been watched from the moment he set foot on the plane. Closing his eyes he reached out through the mana, moving deeper and deeper into the silence and the shadows, until finally he found what he was looking for. There, behind the statue of a long-forgotten Orzhov pontiff, was the familiar taste of Eldranis’ White mana. Feeling the magic reach his skin, the Planeswalker stepped out into the moonlight filtering through the high glass dome and faced Sorin. Still he wore the shroud protecting his face below his eyes.
“It’s over,” he said, his words little more than whispers, but echoing none the less in the vast cathedral. Mana and rage surged through Sorin in time with one-another.
“You knew they were after her!” he screamed. “You could have warned me!”
Eldranis cut him off. “They weren’t after her! They were after you.”
“No! They used me to get to her! If it wasn’t for me…” pain flooded Sorin’s mind at the thought of his unwilling betrayal.
“Why do you think she became the leader of the vampires on Zendikar? Who would think to look for the Original of Black mana in a place like that? She was hiding! They lost interest in you the minute they found her!”
“Jace knew she was there, he knew who she really was!”
“Only after he read your mind. Until then she was just another Black-mana mage to him.”
“Then why did you send me there? You used me… you sent me there to lead them to her!” Sorin’s hands were fists now, collecting mana furiously.
“If I hadn’t sent you there, you’d be dead by now. You have no idea what they’re capable of, and you can’t beat them. Even if you somehow fought them and survived, the one they serve is truly beyond your imagining. Who do you think manipulated your Planeswalk to Zendikar? He is powerful enough even the Blue Original has sworn loyalty to him.”
Sorin felt his mind of the brink of tearing. Why was this man, a White-mana mage, willing to sacrifice the legendary Liliana Vess to save him? What did this man care if he lived or died at the hands of Jace Balaren and Tezzeret? Anger rushed through him in a violent wave and pushed these concerns from his skull.
“Whatever your plan for me, you should have found another way! You should have warned me, and together we could have stopped them!” His shout rang out through the hall, competing to be heard over the sound of mana exploding from his fists. “WHY DID YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?!”
The burst of mana travelled the length of the cathedral in an instant, catching Eldranis in the chest like a cannon fire. The force of the blast forced him backwards, arms outstretched, until a pool of White mana appearing to prevent his spine from crashing into the stone wall. Though a great crater remained where the man had landed, the mage rose from the floor unharmed. Sorin watched the man dust of his clothes, as if nothing had happened. Then Eldranis’ black eyes, reflecting the full force of the moonlight, caught Sorin’s.
“It will take more than that to kill me.”
Confusion banged on the walls of Sorin’s mind like a screaming child. In all the worlds, White-mana mages were the most susceptible creatures to his attacks. For this man to survive unscathed would mean something that he knew to be impossible. Eldranis’ lips were drawn in a hard line as he watched Sorin clamber for understanding. Very slowly he moved his hand to pull free the cloak that covered his left arm. He held it up to the moonlight, his face betraying no emotion.
The light showed a twisted image of the powers Planeswalkers command: the arm was destroyed, great sections of muscle and skin blown free by some unimaginable force. Through the cavities Sorin could make out a skeleton, blackened and twisted, held in place by magic and moved like the arm of a puppet: not just White magic, but a swirling mixture of White and Black mana that seemed to war with itself whenever the two sides got too close. Tiny, viscous jets of energy erupted all over the arm as the two manas collided and moved on, struggling to co-exist. This man was something that should not even exist, the most feared being in all the worlds, the ultimate force for good or evil: the Planeswalker of White and Black mana.
“Now you understand why you can’t kill me, Sorin.” His voice was steady, calm. “But make no mistake, I can kill you.” A bolt of energy shot out from Eldranis’ twisted arm, catching Sorin in the throat. The Black mana poured harmlessly over him, just as his attack had on Eldranis, but just as in the recesses of his arm, this attack was a mixture of two manas. The White portion burned at his soul, unbothered by bodily features like skin or strength, it travelled straight down, paralysing his spirit. By the time he finished yelling, he was on his knees. Eldranis walked slowly, closing the gap between them, and put his good hand on Sorin’s shoulder. Another blast, this time pure White, attacking everything, his physical and spiritual being. Refusing to fall any further, he focused all his energy on staying on his knees. Finally he managed one question:
“Who… are… you?” Eldranis dropped to one knee in front of him, staring into his eyes. He spoke slowly as his hand moved towards the shroud that hid his face.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he said. The shroud fell away, and Sorin was face to face with himself. It was a face scarred by some unimaginable trauma, but it was definitely his own. After a few moments Eldranis returned to shroud in place, concealing the scars.
“What… did they do to you?” the effort to speak was choking him now.
“The master the Blue ones serve, he is the ruler of a thousand worlds. Some say he even commands time. Few resist him. He’s decided to end that resistance by stripping good mana from every world on every plane.” Some distant part of Sorin’s mind recalled the ancient teachings of morality as being a product of men, not magic.
“There’s no such thing… magic is not good or…”
“Save your breath.” Eldranis cut it. “This… creature, is beyond such reasoning now. He wants to see all mana of White and Green eradicated from the universe.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought so too, but he can do it. With the right magic, and a dark soul at the heart of the spell, he can spread her essence throughout time and space. It won’t remove White and Green entirely, but he’ll reduce them to nothing more than glimpses on the furthest reaches of history. For that, he’ll use Liliana, and for that evil, she will die.”
Sorin’s mind flooded with images of the thousands, maybe millions he had met on his century of travels who would be killed. Elves in their forest sanctuaries, manic goblins trying pointlessly to spear lightning-fast merfolk. Even in his homeland, angels were a common sighting, blessed with incredible holy magic. After his spark ignited, aligning him with Black mana, these creatures became his enemies by nature, but rarely actual threats. So infrequently did their paths cross that Sorin found it impossible to imagine a need to see them so completely destroyed. His mind was clearer now, the pain lifted from it. Something told him he was connecting with Eldranis, this twisted version of himself. He followed that intuition.
“What does it have to do with you?”
“I was the first. When they couldn’t find Liliana the first time, they captured me, and used me for their spell. But it failed. No one, not even the dragons, knew what I – what we – were to become. When my spark ignited, White and Black were spread throughout the universe. The results were chaotic, unpredictable. The attempt was considered a failure, and that was when I learned the truth: full control of time is impossible, but it can be reversed. I was sent back, as were we all. Only Tezzeret, Balaren and I, removed from the normal flow of time, remembered what happened. That’s when they decided to try again, with you. I knew it would kill you, so I had you lead them to the Original instead.”
Anger rose in Sorin again at the mention of Liliana, but he didn’t have the strength to retaliate. “We have to stop them,” he said weakly. Then, with greater conviction, “I have to save her!”
“You can’t,” Eldranis said. His fixed expression broke into an enigmatic smirk. “Not as you are now anyway.” He cast his eyes around the great temple, seeing all, taking in nothing in particular. “But here, in this place, where the two colours are as equals, it may be possible for you to discover the power you need to do it.”
Sorin rose unsteadily to his feet. The more Eldranis talked, the less it seemed he was going to die tonight. At least, intentionally. “If you want to save her, you will have one chance.” Eldranis spoke through his eyes as much as his words, trying to convey meaning well beyond the few simple syllables. “You must let me help you discover your true destiny. Tonight, you must become what you were always meant to be.”
Searching his mind, Sorin could not find trust, or logic, or reason. Something else controlled his thoughts now, some belief that a great truth was being revealed before him, and to cast it aside now was no option. Slowly, he nodded. Eldranis raised his hand, and harmless force lifted Sorin’s body.
“It is time,” he heard Eldranis say, then watched him raise his hands and his head and begin to yell, as if addressing all the angels in all the heavens. 
“Teldias! Vardrina! Ajani!”
Sorin yelled as he felt the fist of the sun crash down on him. The image of the White lion-kin – the ancient Planeswalker Ajani Goldmane – appeared in front of his eyes. Body and soul united in the conflagration of White mana against Black, blinding him in light and pain. Unconsciousness beckoned, offering relief. Through it all broke Eldranis’ voice, his face hidden by the light.
“It’s time to accept who you really are, Sorin Markov! You must discover your reason to survive. You will uncover the truth of who you are or you will die here!”
Numbness crept through his extremities as the pain began to focus in his chest like a spear, moving slowly, looking for something. Sorin could only make out one shape in the light, unmistakeable in the enveloping brightness. It was her face, the face of the woman he had sworn to fight beside, to protect. It was the woman he had grown to admire for her fearlessness, her loyalty to her people. It was the woman he’d come to love, before failing her in the worst way imaginable. Now, because of him, Liliana would die, and in doing so seal the fate of billions of lives.
His heart burned anew as the memory set fresh fire to the pain caused by the light. There, behind the pain, something else burned too: something he had long forgotten feeling once a hundred lifetimes ago. For the second time in his life the powers of a universe conversed on him, this time sending blasts of White mana across the cathedral in every direction. For the second time in his life Sorin felt his Planeswalker spark ignite! The light faded and night returned to the cathedral. As the darkness crept back into his mind he did nothing to resist, letting it seal his consciousness away while his body crashed to the marble floors. When we awoke he would have to come to terms with his new destiny.
Dawn was very near when he opened his eyes. Eldranis was half-asleep sitting on a ruined statue of a wingless angel. He made no sign he noticed Sorin’s body stirring and spoke without moving his head.
“You slept a whole day and part of the night. I had to move us here to avoid being found. You should feel lucky to be awake at all.”
‘Lucky’ was a debatable topic at this point. Sorin tried to push himself up but an incredible pain shot through his left arm and he landed back on his chest. Reaching out he could see where fragments of the skin – still rock-solid after his battle with Rakdos – had been blown apart by the cataclysm of mana from the night before. Both White and Black magic swirled in place of muscle and tissue and great gaps left the bones exposed and visible. Eldranis was looking at him now, and held up his own ruined arm for comparison.
“It will heal,” he said, “very slowly.” He smiled at that, as if it were a private joke just for him.
Sorin couldn’t look at his arm anymore; it made him sick. His tentatively tested his other arm, which was sore but mostly undamaged, and made his way to his feet. He focused his thoughts and tried speaking.
“I’m going after her.”
Eldranis smiled again, a vindicated smile. “I knew you would.”
“You know where they’ve taken her. You’ve been there before.”
A long sigh. “Yes. I have.”
It was Sorin’s turn to smile. “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices: you can help me save her, or, you can try to kill me again.”
From across the room, Eldranis just laughed.