Heart of the Gemini

Misgivings

Sorin Markov woke with a start, his left hand clutching the handle of the large dagger he kept by his bed. Staring back at him were a pair of wide eyes, belonging to the girl who had decided to remain completely still as long as the blade was pressed against her throat. Carefully, Sorin lowered the knife, and watched in silence as the girl retreated from the room. She was a vampire – a priestess in training – and Sorin’s personal attendant. Still young by vampire standards, her eyes retained their vibrant blue-green tincture that would fade to black as she reached maturity.
Damn these nightmares! Sorin thought. I’d trade the power to walk planes for a good night’s sleep! Wearily he dismissed the idea and thought instead of Liliana, while his free hand moved to the empty space on the bed beside him. This wasn’t the first time she’d left before he awoke; centuries of secret activities had awarded her an exceptional ability to slip away unnoticed. Lately however, she barely seemed to sleep at all, and seemed to be drifting further and further away from him.
Tenderly he flexed the muscles in his left hand. Unlike in his dreams, his real arm was still damaged - the result of his fight against the demon-lord Rakdos back on Ravnica. In gratitude for defeating the Eldrazi, the humans on Zendikar had offered their finest healers to tend his wounds. However they had only been able to accomplish so much before his Black mana had begun to interfere with the process, to the point where it became dangerous to proceed. Since then the vampire priestesses had provided round-the-clock attention, and the results were excellent. The large sections of exposed bone were no longer visible, and much of the muscle had regrown. It occurred to him that someone seeing it for the first time could mistake him for the victim of a severe burn. He could grip a blade well enough – that much he knew – but a sword in battle: that would be a different test entirely.
Determined to shake the images from his nightmare from his mind, he slowly rose to his feet and followed the snaking sunlight to the curtained door. Outside the tent he was greeted by the cascade of noise of a vampire camp being hastily demolished. With the Eldrazi long since defeated, the peace between the vampires and the humans had been similarly disposed of. Now the warrior-priests hunted Liliana’s people with renewed energy, as if making up for lost time. The elves in the neighbouring forests were little help: they enjoyed informing the humans of the vampires’ movements whenever they could. Sorin wondered if the tree-dwellers realised how fortunate they were that the vampires found their sickly-green blood so unappetising.
It was far too early in the day for Sorin to be thinking of his homeworld, Innistrad. Immediately he felt the familiar sick twist in the pit of his stomach. When he had fled that world, centuries ago, he had left behind more than just monsters: he had left secrets, secrets which he kept hidden even here, even from Liliana and her people.
The stern but smiling face of Liliana’s highest adviser, Anowon, appeared from behind one of the collapsing tents, interrupting his unpleasant reverie.
“Good morning, My Lord,” he announced, smiling wider. Sorin had never formally accepted a title among the vampires, and took very few occasions to give them any instructions outside of organised battle. Nevertheless, Anowon had insisted on referring to him as ‘My Lord,’ for the sake of formality.
“Hello, Anowon,” he replied. “Are the preparations in order?” It was a pointless question: the vampires were nomadic by nature, and could move and rebuild a thousand times with ease.
“Ahead of schedule, actually! Everyone is quite sick of this place - they are eager to see what feasts await them at their new home.” Sorin nodded appreciatively, until his thoughts took a darker turn.
“Have you seen Liliana this morning?” he asked. The smile on Anowon’s face dropped immediately.
“I have, My Lord. The Queen left early in the day. She said… she was going hunting.” Sorin knew immediately why the old mage sounded so disturbed, but he let the vampire continue unheeded.
“As you know, there is no cause to hunt before a move – any spoils would be left behind. The Queen knows this too. Also, her path would take her to the mountains: there are no beasts there, only Goblins and creatures of the elements. Not fit for eating.”
Sorin frowned. This kind of strange behaviour was becoming common. And if Anowon was mentioning it, then he was greatly concerned as well.
“Do the others know of this?” he asked.
“No, My Lord. They were busy tending to their duties.”
“Thank you Anowon. See that it stays that way. I’ll make sure she returns before the move. ”
“Of course.” Eager to attend to something else – anything else – the ancient vampire turned quickly, leaving Sorin to follow the path Liliana had taken up towards the bronze mountains.

A pair of dark violet eyes, shrouded on both sides by night-black hair, shone with an unnatural light that reflected in the flawless, ageless features of Liliana Vess. Though she had long ago abandoned the golden circlet that had marked the early years of her rule, her high cheeks and full lips had lost none of their perfect definition. Truly, she was proof of the power of dark magic to bestow immortality.
Now her eyes cast out aimlessly across the landscape of Zendikar. This place, once nothing more than a refuge, had welcomed her, and the dark creatures that lived here had come to accept her, even worship her. But unlike so many before, she had not grown bored of their admiration, or found convenient excuses to sacrifice their lives. Here, the Black Original had found something long since lost to her – a life.
The dark symbols on her neck began to glow brighter as the fog crept across her mind. This was happening more and more often now, and she did not know how much longer she would be able to keep Sorin from noticing. Futilely she tried to resist the fog, to push it back as it crept deeper into her consciousness. She knew that with each day the poison grew in strength, she was brought closer to the day she would have to abandon all that she had found here, all that she loved.

The wilds of Zendikar never ceased to amaze Sorin. They were as alive and untamed as any beast, changing frequently and of its own accord. New lakes would appear overnight, mountains would rise from the earth and whole forests would disappear into wide chasms. In the ten years since the Eldrazi invasion, Sorin felt as though he’d woken up on a hundred different worlds, without the aid of a single Planeswalk. With still so much of it unknown, he looked forward to spending at least a dozen lifetimes exploring it further. Just past the camp, Liliana’s tracks were fresh and easy to follow, but the soil soon gave way to rock, forcing him close his eyes and concentrate on her magic. He felt the familiar sensations run through his fingers and down his spine, the feeling he had grown to know so well in the last ten years. It was the truly unique mana of the Black Original. Yet somewhere deep within the folds of the twisting currents he felt something… new. He was still thinking about it when he raised the last crest and saw her standing there.
Liliana Vess balanced on the edge of a great ravine that had until two years ago been one of the tallest mountains on Zendikar. The wind from the chasm blew her black hair behind her shoulders and brought her scent to Sorin. He breathed deep as he approached, quickly noticing that she had loosened her cloak at the shoulder. It had fallen back, partially revealing the demonic marks she normally kept hidden at all times. Now they were clear and sharp against her skin, silhouetted in the bright light coming in from between the peaks. Her arm was raised and bent at the elbow so that her fingers reached towards her neck. As he drew nearer, Sorin could see her tracing the surface of the demonic runes, her fingertips dancing across the glowing symbols. He took another step and her fingers stopped moving – her whole body seemed to freeze on the spot. One day, he swore, he would figure out how to approach her undetected… but it was not this day. Slowly he put his left hand on her shoulder, and with his right hand he took her fingers in his. She was still facing away from him and it was impossible to see what she was thinking.
“Liliana, what are you doing out here?” he asked softly.
Without speaking, seemingly without taking breath, she raised her head so that her eyes met his. They were blank eyes, staring through him without recognition. It was as though she was following the sound of his voice without understanding the words. Sorin felt shock mix with panic as he turned her around to face him.
“Liliana!” he cried. Planeswalkers did not often use magic words to summon their creations, but he knew the power of name. He called hers again, willing her back to him. After a moment she blinked – once, twice – and then her expression changed, recognition returning to combine with confusion.
“I’m, I’m here… where I am?” she glanced around, taking in the area as if it were her first time seeing it. A chill wind informed her that the cloak was still pulled away from her shoulder, and she hastened to replace it.
“Why was…” she started, her eyes narrowing. “Were you looking at them?” Even after all this time, in her mind his eyes burned worst than the marks themselves if she let him see them.
“Liliana,” he replied, breathlessly. “I found you like that. You were tracing them with your fingers.” He watched her shudder and fell silent. He wanted to ask her what she remembered, but something warned him off. “Let’s go back to the camp, everyone’s expecting you.” She nodded and mumbled an agreement, and let him slip his arm around her. They walked together like that in silence until they reached the now nearly-abandoned vampire settlement.