Heart of the Gemini

Ascension

The power of a Planeswalker had carried the Scion across planes and back again. Now that power was going to elevate Teysa’s magic higher than it had ever gone before. The two of them stood on the highest platform above the Dark Temple itself, meters above the very spot where Sorin’s Planeswalker spark had ignited for the second time. It was here, in the very heart of Orzhova, that Teysa was to perform the ritual that would save or destroy her world.
“It’s a call,” she explained. “A call to every soul, every spirit in the millions of humans and everything else living on Ravnica. For ten thousand years the Orzhov have been the guides for the spirits of this world. Now, those spirits are going to help us defend this place.
“We will send a message to each of those souls, calling them, telling them to leave their hosts and find a new home here, in this city…” She stopped when she saw the look on Sorin’s face.
“They won’t die,” she said, her eyes still and unfocused, her head tilting listlessly to the stars above her. “The mortals of this world do not understand that their spirits are not truly theirs, nor are they the power that keeps them alive. Souls can be taken, they can be used, and they can be returned. This is the divine power that only the Orzhov commands.”
Sorin hoped that for the sake of the rest of Ravnica, she was right. She had assured him that her plan did not involve the genocide of thousands, if not millions of people, and he believed her. Either way, there was no going back now.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “We do this, or tomorrow we die.”
Once again proving it was useless to argue with an Orzhov lawmage, Teysa began her chant. In the ancient language known only to the most powerful mages born to the wealthiest families, the Scion of the Orzhov called to the spirits.
Her voice was of one possessed, a being no longer bound by human emotions or concerns. Even with all his power, in this moment Sorin considered her closer to ascending to something divine than he ever would be.
White light filled Teysa’s eyes, shining in the darkness. The Baroness cried out into the night, her voice carrying for miles around, calling out through space and magic.
Teysa was calling, and Ravnica would answer.

It started with the ghosts of the dead, which had long inhabited Ravnica’s history and its streets in peaceful co-existence with the living. Then, the spirits of the living abandoned their hosts, seemingly without pain or suffering, and leaving no sign that their physical bodies were in any way affected by the loss of their spectral counterparts. Together, they formed an ghostly army numbering in millions, all answering the Scion’s call.
Like a galaxy of stars the spirits of Ravnica floated across the plane, moving towards the one that would speak for them, the one that would guide them and bring them to their new destiny, separate from their former lives. Soldiers on both sides ceased their movements and watched in disbelief as the spectral procession passed overhead. When they skies themselves could carry no more of the endless sea of ghosts they would float lower, passing harmlessly through the living to make their way to the holy centre of the Church of Deals. There they gathered, forming a brilliant dome of ethereal white energy, called by mana but sustained by the power of the souls themselves, around entire of Orzhova. None would penetrate the shield as long as it stood, for it was more powerful than the Planeswalkers – the eternal guardian, neither living nor dead. For as long as was needed, the untouchable ghosts of Ravnica would defend their holy city, deflecting magical and mortal attacks alike, never retreating and never retaliating.
Sorin watched as the white light which had filled Teysa’s eyes faded. All around them the city was glowing with the white light of a million spirits. All around them the armies shielded their eyes with their hands, and not a shadow could be found amongst the hundreds of dark marble columns and stone gargoyles. The mana she had needed to call forth the perfect barrier had drained Sorin more than he had anticipated, but the result was well worth the cost. Now complete in her duty, Teysa was well prepared to sustain her barrier alone. That left Sorin free to do what was needed to end the war, once and for all.

Back on the battlements, Sorin found Gideon conferring with the remaining generals.
“Our forces are down to half,” he explained as Sorin approached. “If not for Teysa’s shield, we would not have lasted more than a few hours come daybreak.”
“I’m just glad you made it back before it went up,” he replied, eyeing the great dome. “I doubt even you could have moved through it.”
“Especially tonight. I have done what you asked.”
Sorin felt his heart lift and fall simultaneously. “I was right then…”
“Indeed: she didn’t even fight. It was as though she wanted to be brought here.”
“Where is she now?”
“The vaults, beneath the city. The Orzhov built a prison for beings as powerful as her, but until now it’s never been tested.” For the first time since he’d left Zendikar, Sorin began to feel like everything was moving into position.
“Go to Teysa,” Sorin said finally. “She’s yours to protect now. Guard her, and you guard this city.”
“And you,” Gideon replied, “may you find the strength to do what needs to be done.” The White Planeswalker did not wait for a reply, but vanished in flash of light.
Sorin took one last look at the city, at the ancient stone churches now smoking where the Boros’ catapults had struck, and the impossible ghostly dome overhead. He closed his eyes, and similarly vanished.
Deep in the vaults of Orzhova, a cold voice broke through the darkness. “Hello, Sorin.”