Duel of the Gemini

Allies

No world had been so completely overtaken by civilisation, so consumed by the expanse of sentient species, as had occurred on Ravnica. An endless city, leaving nothing to the needs or wants of nature except what the Green-aligned guilds could protect, covered the entire planet. Here, the Ten Guilds warred for supremacy, or in some cases, just for the hell of it. Sorin was already well acquainted with one of the guilds, the Orzhov Syndicate, and was less than grateful when he learned their intended destination would take them back to Ravnica’s Central district, far too close to Orzhova.
This time however, they were to visit a group that was at the same time very far and very near to being called a ‘religion’ in their own right: the great Cult of Rakdos, named for the immortal demon they worshiped. In the distance, he could see the huge plateau-top mountain, Ravnica’s heart, on top of which could be found the central hall for nearly half the Guilds. He was busy wondering which would be the first to detect the presence of the two powerful Planeswalkers approaching their most guarded territories when Liliana pointed to a dark cavern leading down into the depths of the mountain.
“There it is,” she said. Without waiting for a reply, she started walking.
The giant cavern which served as the Rakdos guild hall was crudely carved from solid rock out of the interior of a volcano. Lava flowed freely in rivers from blast-craters in the roof and walls, chains hung from the ceiling and steel grates made up much of the floor. Large pieces of metal were hammered and welded wherever and for whatever purpose imaginable,. The only ornaments were enormous skulls from unidentified beasts and racks upon racks of weapons of all kinds. Even from outside one could hear the cataclysmic noise of a thousand berserk cultists threatening insanity to anyone who remained.
Their permission to enter had been granted after a small demonstration that they were not strangers. This was achieved by immediately killing the goblin standing guard. His partner had seemed sufficiently pleased with the outcome, and moments later a new guard arrived to act as replacement. The two Planeswalkers walked in silence as they were escorted along a raised walkway to the centre of the hall, where an enormous throne rested on a raised platform, filling the immediate space. On it was a terrifyingly large demon, with massive horns that threatened to break through the roof of the cavern. As they approached he opened one eye lazily and surveyed them with scorn.
“Liliana Vess.” His voice rumbled like thunder, immediately adding to the chaos of the surrounding atmosphere. “You assured me that I would never see you on this plane again.” The Black Original did not hesitate in side-stepping the demonic welcome.
“It’s good to be back, Rakdos.” The demon lord seemed to enjoy the sound of her saying his name, and grinned through a line of yellow teeth the size of guillotines.
“I thought I told you I’d kill you if you ever returned here, witch.”
“You promised you’d try,” she teased. “Don’t you at least want to hear what I have to say first?” The demon paused, then turned his attention to Sorin. “You I do not know.”
Sorin made a motion to speak, but before he could the demon reached behind his great bulk and pulled a sword the size of a man out from behind his throne. A giant horned skull like the ones on the walls served as its hilt. Rakdos lunged forward, the sword in both hands, arcing down. Leaping on instinct, he rolled out of the way, vaguely registering the sound of the metal grates giving way and plummeting into the dark pits where the tip of the sword struck: the same place he had been standing moments before.
Sorin cursed himself for not having a vanishing command ready. Finally he decided he was better for it as the demon would probably have expected that. His avoidance manoeuvres lead him to one of the nearer walls lined with swords of varying sizes. On impulse he grabbed one about the right size for him and pulled it free. It was gold, like Liliana’s dagger, but long and wide. Its overwhelming weight was mitigated by a hollow section that ran down the centre. Turning to face the great demon he caught the next blow with his blade. The demon was enormous, but Sorin knew the secret to his strength: magic. Demons, like angels, were creatures born of mana, as was their strength. Without it, their physical forms were meaningless. In this dark place, there was an abundance of dark mana, which meant an abundance of strength, for both of them. Not for the first time, he counted his blessing for his dark allegiance. Concentrating on the mana pool inside him, he channelled all of his own mana into his body, imbuing his muscles and strengthening his arms just as Rakdos did. He immediately achieved strengths far surpassing that of normal humans, and pushed the demon’s sword back the way it had come.
The demon was no fool. He showed no surprise at the Planeswalker’s ability to overcome a simple assault: this was now a test of wits. As the sword flew back the demon followed it around in a wide spin, extending his enormous wings so that they crashed into Sorin’s body, knocking him into the steel racks and forcing his sword arm high over his head. Continuing around until he was facing the newcomer again, Rakdos lunged forward with the enormous blade, its tip poised to rend his enemy’s heart asunder.
The sword never reached its mark. A low crunch accompanied its sudden stop an arm’s length from Sorin’s chest. The demon looked down and saw his opponent’s hand holding the giant blade back, the piercing tip resting in his palm. The Planeswalker had focused all of his mana into his left arm: every ounce. The result was a powerful spell which overtook his physical form and transformed it into a summoned material, a thousand times harder than rock or steel. He would have very limited use of his arm for a few days, but at least he might live to see them. The demon was furious and roared as he pulled his sword arm back to finish the assault, halting only when Liliana’s dagger appeared at his throat. The black wisps that accompanied her teleport hovered over his gigantic shoulder where she’d landed, and a her blade was glowing. A magical charge was being fed into the metal: it would take less than a thought for the Original of Black to end the great demon’s ten-thousand year reign.
“That’s enough,” she said directly into his ear. Rakdos stopped and considered his options, eventually conceding that Sorin had fought well enough.
“If I can’t kill you, then tell me why you have come here!” Liliana dropped gracefully back onto the metal grates and turned so that she was facing the bulk of the rabble.
“What I have to say is for all of the Rakdos,” she replied. The demon was visibly annoyed, but waved a giant hand at a goblin standing next to him, managing not to knock the small creature clear of the platform by mere inches. The goblin raised a large mallet over his crooked nose and swung it into a huge brass gong, calling the cavern to attention.
“Citizens of Rakdos!” Liliana called when they had paused to gaze at the newcomers. “I’ve come here to ask you to join us… on a hunt!” She let the last word catch on her teeth, as though it were meat dangling in front of starving dogs. Immediately the noise in the cave doubled with excitement.
“You are the greatest fire cult on a hundred worlds!” she yelled, her voice carrying high above the din, echoing against the cavern walls and down into the fire pits. Despite the noise, all would hear her words. “What I am offering is the chance to prove your supremacy once and for all! Succeed, and your names will carry through history. Fail, and you will have the very thing that brought you here: an exciting death!”
The great demon had been silent for some time now, watching the woman with fierce, consuming eyes. Unlike the others, he knew her identity, and her reputation. Something in his cunning nagged at him, made him ask himself over and over the same question: ‘Why does she need us?’ All his suspicion came down to one thing, which he finally articulated.
“Who are we to hunt this day?”
Liliana stopped, her brilliant smile fading as she turned from the cheering crowd to deliver her answer. If there would be a time for real danger, it would be now.
“Chandra Nalaar,” she said.
“The Rage!” he roared back. The cavern exploded into a frenzy of fear and loathing. Rakdos turned and marched to his raised throne, apparently unwilling to hear more. Liliana shot a glance at Sorin that suggested they had outstayed their welcome. Suddenly a woman’s voice broke through the chaos.
“No one can surpass the Rage,” it said. It was a commanding voice, perfectly pitched, well-accustomed to death. “She cannot be killed.”
“Who dares speak?” Liliana called back. “Show yourself.”
The crowed parted on the tier below and a Rakdos witch, magnificently dressed in black, red and gold, walked towards the throne. Immediately Sorin was on guard: the Rakdos valued strength when assigning the right to speak even more than Liliana’s vampires. This woman commanded their respect and audience – she was not to be underestimated.
“Physical injury means nothing to the Rage,” the woman continued. “Her fire absorbs it, and she is healed. Even you cannot kill her, Demon-Born.” Once again the cavern descended into madness as Liliana’s identity proliferated through the crowd. The Black Original was watching the witch with renewed hatred: her words were tantamount to betrayal. Above the noise could be heard the sound of the demon lord laughing at the secret which had been so easily revealed.
“Who are you?” Liliana asked again, talking only to the witch.
“Lyzolda, Alchemist for the Rakdos. I am in charge of the study of the magics which are of interest to our kind.” She was very close to Liliana now. Despite the vicious echoes, it gave the illusion that they were having a private conversation.
“If they join you,” said the witch, “You may have a chance to capture the powers of the Rage. She will be weakened and she will most likely retreat. However, many of them will die.” Her arm swung out in the direction of the crowd. “You are fortunate they do not consider this a discouraging condition.” Liliana smiled at this: this woman had a humour which suited her own. Lyzolda did not smile back, but continued gravely.
“I pity you. Your enemy must be great indeed for you to desire such a weapon as the fires of the Rage. I only hope you are sure of what it is you truly hate before you use it.” With this she turned and strode casually to Rakdos’ throne. He had watched the exchange in the silence of curiosity, and was now being whispered to by the alchemist. When she was done, he stood slowly and addressed the burning hall.
“The Cult of Rakdos will hunt! The sky shall burn this day!”
A long passage led away from the throne room, away from the screams and cackling of the Rakdos proper. The weapon-racks and creature skulls gave way to ancient carvings adorned with official emblems. Sorin wondered if this was the place where those who cared hid the more valuable of Rakdos lore, deep out of sight of their own people. It was a discouraging thought. Eventually the party, lead by Lyzolda, turned off the main corridor and down a smaller tunnel lit by sparse torch-light. By now they could hear a low humming and dull thumping sounds at regular intervals. The light was dark, too low to see anything clearly, until the witch spoke a command spell and several large fires burst to life at once. They passed through a set of heavy steel doors, and immediately the source of the sounds became clear: a large machine was idling in the centre of a cavern, with several tanks big enough to fit a troll and a series of columns reaching up into the roof. Liliana did not stop with the group, but continued walking around the device in wide arc, apparently wanted to examine it from every angle. Lyzolda seemed pleased at her interest and waited a few moments before speaking.
“I have been working on this for many years” she said.
“What is it?” asked Sorin.
“It’s a device for capturing magic,” Liliana answered from the far side of the room. Lyzolda’s expression balanced between respectful surprise and indignation.
“That is correct. It is a weapon designed specifically to fight those who cannot be defeated by conventional weapons.”
“Like Chandra,” Sorin offered.
“We hope so,” she corrected. “It has yet to be tested on one so formidable.”
“How did the Rakdos develop such a device?” Liliana asked. She rounded the last tank and reappeared at their side.
“I was not always with the Cult,” Lyzolda replied. “Once I was a member of the Izzet, the inventors-guild. But I was removed after my experiments were deemed too… extreme, even for them.”
Sorin had heard of entire districts being decimated by Izzet experiments gone wrong. He wondered what this witch could possibly have done to deserve such punishment. Suddenly he saw the Cult of Rakdos anew: like a prison of purpose built to hold the most brilliant and most dangerous of minds.
The demon-lord appeared from an adjoining cave carrying several large weapons in his arms.
“These,” he said to no one in particular, “are what are used to channel the Rage’s power.” The scorn in his voice was clear: the idea of relying on a machine to do a job he could not achieve on his own was, at best, distasteful. Meanwhile, Sorin was staring at the nearest tank. With enough luck, it would before long contain the fire of one of the most powerful beings in the universe. Liliana walked silently up beside him.
“Do you think it will work?” she asked, speaking only to him. He considered for a moment what they would be attempting with this plan, but his mind came back to the light on the horizon of Zendikar, to the crashing sound that had made even vampires afraid of the silence, and he knew she was thinking about it too.
“It has too,” he said finally. It was enough. She nodded and turned back to Lyzolda.
“When do we leave?”