Three Questions

Author's Notes and Disclaimer – To help us set the scene, we're going back to Zendikar and further exploring the backstory of Nissa Revane. So, suffice to say, a lot of this is going to be my own headcanon, but I feel that this is relatively reasonable headcanon in that I've tried my best to base it off of key context clues found in various Uncharted Realm stories. So, enjoy!

As always, I don't own anything to do with Magic or its fantastic worldbuilding. All of that belongs to Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

Nissa had always been an inquisitive child. Quiet and contemplative, for certain, but whenever she encountered something she couldn't understand, she made it a goal to ask until she understood. Meroe thanked whatever powers that be for this quality in her daughter, but there had been three questions she could never hope to answer for Nissa.

* * *

"Where is father?"

Meroe knew that question would come up sooner rather than later. True, Nissa had never known her father, but that did not mean she did not understand the idea. She understood that it took two parents to create a child, and she had been in at least one Joraga camp to see other children who had their fathers to help raise them. She knew she had to have one.

In a way, Meroe had wished the two of them had met. They were both similar. They both would get that same crease in their eyebrows when they were thinking. They had those same green eyes and that same dark hair. Nissa had that same quiet nature as he did. The way she would observe an insect crawling across a branch or watch a baby gnarled take its first steps, she looked exactly like him.

But what was Meroe to say to that question? Sorry, but your father was executed by our own people for using his gifts? How was she supposed to explain that to a five-year-old child?

She was enraged at what they had done to Jamu, but she did not blame the Joraga. They were ignorant and fearful of the things they could not possibly understand. They could not make sense of the changes happening on Zendikar and had to find someone to blame. Unfortunately, they were turning on the only people who could have perhaps understood: the animists.

Jamu had been a powerful force among the animists. He and the few remaining who could still call to Zendikar had hoped to find an answer to the wild bucking and shifting of the world, why they could no longer call upon its aid. The Joraga feared the animists had angered Zendikar with their abilities. But Zendikar was not vengeful, Jamu maintained. She had to believe that, if anything, to keep the memory of him alive.

But the Joraga had not stopped there. They had at least let her live because she was one of the few of the animist line whose abilities had never manifested. She was not a threat, but she was not to be trusted either. That changed when she was no longer able to hide the fact that she carried Jamu's child. It was one thing for her to be here under their careful watch, but it was another to add to the problem by potentially bringing another animist into the world to further aggravate Zendikar. They gave her no choice but to leave.

It took a couple years of begging to finally convince another camp to take them in. By then, Nissa was nearly two, and had grown up with all the dangers of the wilds of Zendikar. For now, it was enough, at least until this camp started to distrust them.

She could always tell Nissa the truth. There wasn't much that could surprise or frighten her now. The child grew up in a world where everything tried to kill her. She at least understood what death was.

But Meroe could not do that to her child, who was looking at her with those pleading eyes. She needed something to hope for.

She sighed, holding Nissa close and stroking her hair. "The elders teach us that though we are far apart, our spirit never leaves this world. He is still with us, Nissa. I truly believe that. He is always with us."

That seemed to be enough for the child. She would ask this question several more times, and each time, Meroe would tell her a little more. But she never could bring herself to tell her the whole story. Perhaps telling her everything would actually make it true.

* * *

"Why did they send us away?"

Nissa had been pretty quiet all through their trudge through the woods. Meroe knew that she was afraid. She had quivered behind her when the tribe's chief had told them they could no longer stay. Nissa was probably too old now to remember how they had lived on their own when she was a newborn.

Again, this was a question she knew the answer to, but she couldn't even begin to explain it to her daughter.

As it turned out, Nissa had more of her father in her than either of them had realized. There was no doubt about it: her daughter had animist abilities. This made things much more complicated.

Chances were Nissa did not realize it had happened. That, or she did not see it as out of the ordinary because she was now used to such things happening.

Meroe was not there when it happened. She only heard what the camp chief had told her. Nissa had been playing with the other children, and when one of her friends was about to fall over a tree root, Nissa had somehow willed the root to move out of the way. The fact that she had done this so quickly and seemed to know what she was doing told Meroe one thing: Nissa had probably been doing these sorts of things for a while, and only now had others been around to witness it.

Still, the child had told someone about all of this, and that meant the people became afraid of something they did not understand. There was no longer any possibility that Nissa's animist abilities could have laid dormant like her own. She was now considered a real threat.

Thankfully, the Joraga people were not so cruel as to execute an eight-year-old child for being an animist. They simply told them to leave and never return.

Meroe was a mix of emotions right now. She was not going to deny the fact that she was indeed proud of her daughter. Nissa was an animist. Why should she not be happy for that? If anything, it meant that there was still at least one hope for Zendikar, one person left who could possibly understand what was going on. Nissa was also connected to her ancient ancestors in this way. She was a descendant of a long line of animism, and it would have been a shame if her powers had never been active.

At the same time, she was afraid and frustrated by this situation. They could no longer hope to just keep to themselves and everyone would leave them alone. They would now have to spend time hiding Nissa's abilities, keeping quiet, and hoping no one noticed, provided they even found a camp that would take them in now. She did not want to do that to her daughter. Nissa had a gift and what would she learn if she taught her only to hide it? She already hated having to share her animist culture with Nissa in secret.

Meroe sighed. There was no easy way to answer her daughter's question, not without making her feel she was at fault.

She kneeled down and looked Nissa in the eye. "Sometimes, we're just going to have to leave," she said, knowing this would not be the first time. "The Joraga just don't understand people like us, and they try to get rid of things they don't understand."

"Like my father?"

She nodded. "Something like that. But, we can make it. We have before."

The answer would suffice for now. They would be forced to leave several more camps over the years. Nissa rarely asked that question again because after enough times, she figured it out for herself.

Thunder rolled overhead, and Nissa's ears flattened as fat raindrops pelted the tops of their heads. Meroe guided them under the canopy of a tree, covering their heads with her outer cloak. "We'll just wait until the storm passes," she said.

Nissa smiled, closing her eyes, and one of the tree's branches moved to cover them better. Her mother was impressed, having never seen her use her abilities in person. She wrapped her daughter in a warm hug.

"You have a wonderful gift, Nissa," she murmured in her ear. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

* * *

"What do they mean?"

This was perhaps the hardest question Nissa had asked. It was especially hard because Meroe did not have an answer this time. When she knew Nissa's powers had manifested, she knew this would happen eventually, but she had no capacity to understand what was happening to her.

Nissa was at that age where a lot of changes were happening for her, and her mother could help her through most of that. But her animist visions were another matter entirely.

It had been the middle of the night. Meroe was asleep, but a mother's intuition never left her. She could always hear Nissa stirring before she actually woke, just like when she was small. She heard her daughter's rustlings of an uncomfortable sleep. Not a half second later, she heard the screams.

This was far different from any night terror she had had as a child. This was something truly terrifying. Meroe was up in an instant, and went to Nissa, holding her until the screams turned into muffled sobs. A part of her knew what this had to be. Zendikar's movements had become more violent as of late. The visions it would send Nissa would not be good.

It didn't take long for other villagers to arrive at their door. Nissa's screams had been enough to wake the dead. And whenever something strange happened, the tribe usually knew the two animists were somehow involved. Meroe had assuaged their fears somewhat, explaining the problem away as a mere overreaction to a nightmare. That at last got them to go away, but it didn't stop their suspicious mutterings. They would be watching them closer from now on.

She went back to Nissa to see if she could understand any part of this. Her daughter looked back at her guiltily. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice already starting to break.

Meroe sat beside her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. This was bound to happen eventually. You're starting to get visions now. It's how Zendikar talks to our people. Tell me what you saw."

She listened intently as Nissa explained frightening visions of darkness, tangled knots of energy, and some sort of evil coming after her. Meroe tried to understand but could not. She had once asked Jamu to tell her about his visions, but she could not comprehend those either. Still, she wanted to believe what he had told her: Zendikar was not vengeful and it was not sending its wrath after the animists. But, Nissa's own visions made that hard to accept. There had to be an explanation.

"What do they mean?" she had asked again.

Meroe shook her head. "I don't know, Nissa. I really don't. They are things you have to figure out for yourself. I never had these experiences to know what you're going through right now. But know this: as frightening as they are, they are a gift."

Nissa sighed. "You always say that. I never wanted these things. I never asked to be like this. I just want to be left alone."

"You don't realize how important this is. You are probably the last person who can really understand what it is that Zendikar wants. No one else has the capacity to." Nissa remained silent. Meroe decided to leave her be. "You'll understand someday. You really need to get some rest."

"But will they…?"

She nodded. "The visions will come back, yes, and I suspect they'll become more frequent with time." Meroe was not about to lie to her daughter about this. It was happening, and there would be no signs of slowing. "And these trances may last a long time, depending on how long you hold onto the vision. Your father could sometimes go days like that."

She looked back to Nissa who was still unsure. She held her again. "I know it's frightening now, but I believe this really is a good thing. You can hear the voice of Zendikar. You just have to listen."

Meroe never learned if Nissa ever found the answer to that question, but she had always hoped that those visions became clearer when Nissa left on her own. She wondered if she was able to hear the warnings of the monstrosities to come.