Disoriented and in pain, she kept plummeting through the endless reaches of the void between the planes of the Multiverse. Her whole body felt consumed by fire and torn apart by her relentless fall. She had entered the Blind Eternities in sudden desperation, without sufficient power or focus, and now she was paying the price for such a rash act.
She had only entered the æther without preparation once before—the very first time she walked—and it had come close to killing her. Then, as now, she was fleeing death. But now, at least, she knew what was happening. This time, she didn’t feel the blind, animal terror she had felt then. This time, she struggled to take charge of her planeswalk, rather than simply succumbing in helpless fear to its effects.
Chandra tried to focus on her breathing, her heartbeat, her body’s rhythms … but the air in her lungs felt like boiling water, fire scorched her belly, and ice filled her veins. She tried to concentrate on her mana bonds to maintain her power, but the Blind Eternities flowed around her with the brilliance of a billion suns, blinding and stunning her, while at the same time soaking her in dark fatigue. She tried to reach out and sense the energy of different planes, to seek out a physical reality where she could anchor herself, but everything around her tumbled in a multicolored chaos.
The channel through which Chandra plunged became fearfully black, an entropic void sucking at her life force. Just as she thought she would lose consciousness, fire became water, cold and viscous. Chandra panicked as a drowning sensation enveloped her before everything became white, binding and smothering, and surrounded her like an unbearable weight. A shift to green created pain she didn’t understand, as if her bones were trying to push through her skin. And when fire engulfed her again, she welcomed the familiar agony.
When the pain became so familiar that it ceased to register, Chandra was so disoriented and exhausted, she couldn’t move or think or react. She floated erratically in the whirling mana storm that surrounded her, dazed and inert for what seemed a very long time. Consciousness had become a relative state: it was becoming harder for her to separate herself from her surroundings. She told herself many times to gather her senses and find a way out of here before she died, yet she remained still, unable to move, as if her mind had become disconnected from her body. She had to focus on something tangible.
Kephalai…
Memory penetrated the haze of chaos. Chains on her hands and feet. Combat with other beings. Running. Panting.
She focused on these memories, coaxing them into vivid life in her scattered, confused mind. Kephalai… Sanctum of Stars …
Knowledge of her physical reality, of her life on the planes of the Multiverse, started returning to her. And with this knowledge came the fervent, forceful desire to rejoin the dimensions of physical existence. To overcome her gradual absorption into the æther. To escape the Blind Eternities and find a plane on which to reclaim her power, her physical life, and her mental coherence.
She concentrated on the most vivid of the memories that were dancing around the edge of her consciousness. Memories of fear, anger, pain, urgency. She didn’t remember the details now, but she vaguely knew she had lost the scroll, had failed to achieve her goal. This infuriated her, and she welcomed the rage, letting it warm her blood and sharpen her senses.
But she still wasn’t strong enough. She instinctively recognized that she needed even more visceral connection to her physical life. So, with foreboding, she opened herself to the old memories, to her past, to the sensations she had banished to the realm of nightmare, to the events she never thought about, recalled, or acknowledged.
She opened herself to the fire of sorrow and grief, of shame and regret, to that which consumes innocence.
In the echoing corridors of her memory, she listened to their screams, hearing their agonized cries now as clearly as if it were happening all over again. In her mind’s tormented eye, she watched their writhing bodies now, just as she had watched them then. Helpless. Horrified. Consumed by guilt. She forced herself to dwell on the memory of what their burning flesh had smelled like. She felt the pain of the sobs that wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
And when the blade of a sword swept down to her throat, to end her life …
Chandra sprang into awareness.
How long had she been wandering here, falling and floating between the physical planes of the Multiverse?
She banished the question. All she must think about was escaping the chaotic, sense-warping maze of the Blind Eternities. Until she was safely on a physical plane again, nothing else mattered, and no other thought could be allowed to penetrate her vulnerable focus.
She spread her senses and tried to find something familiar to orient her. She felt the flow of mana, which was reassuring, but it mingled with so many other forces in a bewildering whirlwind of color that she felt wrung out and frustrated as she tried to bond with it. Still, with no other way to survive and escape, she concentrated, summoning all her will, all her rage and heat and passion, and focused on channeling the magical energy.
When she finally felt ready, Chandra propelled herself through the undulating, swirling colors that consumed her, seeking the solid energy of a physical plane. She was vaguely aware that there was someplace she wanted to return, a place where she had a community and a purpose … but she couldn’t even recall it well enough to look for it, let alone control this planeswalk to that extent. Right now, all that mattered was finding a plane, any plane at all. Later, she would think about where exactly in the Multiverse she wanted to be.
Then she sensed it. A dark, bitter energy … but blessedly physical, solid, and tangible. And because she could sense it, because her will drew her toward it, a path to it began opening before her in the æther.
She hesitated. The plane she was approaching didn’t feel at all familiar, and it certainly didn’t feel welcoming.
Should she travel further? The next plane might be a better choice.
No. The next plane she encountered might just as easily be a worse choice. Or, in her weakness and confusion, she might not find another plane at all. Not before she succumbed to the consuming whirlwind she was trying to escape.
It must be now. Here. Go.
She moved through the æther, following the path that beckoned her to the physical plane she sensed. She let the plane’s sullen energy lure her forward as she focused with all her might on making the transition away from the eternal flow surrounding her to the finite, solid reality that lay ahead of her.
Her body, her senses, her mind, all felt torn apart, stretched to the breaking point between two realities. She fought fear and struggled for control. She reached for the dark plane she sensed, stretching toward it with all her will.
Chandra’s feet touched solid ground.
The sensation was so startling, the weight of her own body so unexpected, that she fell down, collapsing into an awkward heap with a choked gasp.
Then she lay there, eyes closed, her face pressed into the damp earth with grateful relief. She spread her palms against the ground, reveling in its solid, unyielding presence.
I’m alive. Alive!
The worst was over. She had escaped Kephalai and the Prelate’s dungeon; escaped death by slow torture at the hands of the Enervants.
Right now, being lost on some wholly unfamiliar plane that radiated dark energy didn’t matter. Even losing the scroll to that mage didn’t matter. She was just very, very happy she wasn’t dead.
Lying on the ground, soaking up the wonderful feeling of being alive, Chandra gradually became aware of a scuffling, scurrying sound nearby. When she opened her eyes to see what had made the noise, she realized that it was nighttime. She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked around, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dark shadows of her surroundings.
High overhead, a full moon glowed white in the endless, starless black of the night sky. Its cool, silvery light shone down brightly on an eerie landscape of twisted trees, squatting bushes, dark expanses of emptiness,
and the tumbled ruins of crumbling stone structures. The trees and bushes that Chandra could make out in the moonlight looked strangely stark and bony.
She realized none of them had any leaves.
That seemed odd. The temperature was mild. The air was cool, but not uncomfortably so—certainly not enough to suggest winter or a season of dormancy. The damp ground suggested preciptation. Indeed, the air itself felt humid. Obviously, drought hadn’t caused the absence of leaves on all of the trees and bushes around here.
She wondered what had caused it. Had there been a fire here recently?
Curious, she rose to her feet, intending to examine some of the denuded branches more closely. The act of rising, however, made her so dizzy she almost fell down again. Her vision swam darkly, and she felt lightheaded.
That was when she realized she was desperately thirsty. She recalled now that she had been thirsty even back in the dungeon on Kephalai. And who knew how long ago that was? What seemed like days could also have been minutes—or even longer. Regardless, her physical needs were reasserting themselves now.
Chandra took a steadying breath and realized she must find water. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized that finding something to eat would be a good idea, too.
The air was heavy with damp and decay. Not the fetid odor of the Envervants in her cell back on Kephalai, but the rich, dark smell of sodden soil, of decomposing vegetation mingling with fog. This seemed like a plane where quenching her thirst shouldn’t be too difficult. There must surely be substantial water here.
She heard scuffling again in the nearby undergrowth. The rustling sound of dead plants being brushed aside by some small creature’s passing struck her as strange. Like the barren trees and naked bushes, the rustling of dead vegetation didn’t seem to go with the damp richness of the soil and the air.
With her curiosity reawakened, Chandra walked past the tumbled, moss-covered stone walls surrounding the spot where she had entered this plane, and went over to a dark, twisted tree that was silhouetted by the moonlight. Her feet encountered a denser, softer surface as she got close to the tree, and she looked down.
Mulch, she realized, all around the tree where the leaves had once fallen. She wrapped her fingers around a slender tree branch and gave it a slight squeeze. She was no expert, but the wood didn’t feel right. It was slightly soft, as if the tree were rotting.
Chandra wondered whether the tree had become diseased and shed its leaves in its initial stages of dying.
She looked around at the moon-swept landscape, where all she saw were bare branches drooping in the silvery light.
It seemed that all the trees in the area had become infected with the same disease. Chandra started to wonder whether this was a local phenomenon, or whether the whole plane was covered with dying vegetation.
She started to feel uneasy, increasingly aware of the dark, bitter energy that permeated this place. Instinct warned her that whatever was killing the plant life here, the cause was more likely magical than mundane.
With her senses restored and her mind functioning again, Chandra realized that she was more than ready to return to Keral Keep. She would report that she had failed to get the scroll and didn’t even know where it was now.
Well, presumably it’s in the hands of some opportunist on Kephalai, she thought with a scowl.
She found this infuriating.
It would also be difficult for her to return to Kephalai and hunt down Gideon. Impossible, really. She might not be a shrewd strategic planner, and she hated losing, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew that she had very little chance of moving freely on Kephalai ever again. No chance, actually. She had destroyed the Sanctum of Stars, wreaked havoc in the city, and stolen the scroll a second time.
Because of her actions, she would be hunted on Kephalai for a long time. There would certainly be a price on her head. Descriptions of her would circulate. If there were any tall, red-headed women in the Prelate’s realm, they’d be harassed. She might even become the most notorious criminal they had ever known. In spite of what she knew was right, this gave Chandra a giddy feeling. She would go down in legend, or at least she hopped so.
Chandra moved over to a hedge of bushes and absently examined their branches, wondering whether she could have escaped with the scroll if that black-haired mage with his glowing, daggertail whip hadn’t interfered. She’d never know for sure, but it was easier to blame him for the way things had gone. And she reveled for a few moments in a vision of roasting him alive in the fires of retribution.
Acknowledging that this dream would likely never be realized, she sighed. Meanwhile, her examination of the bushes revealed that they, too, were dying.
She decided that, ravenous though she was, if she came across any trees or bushes bearing fruit, she wouldn’t eat it. Whatever was killing these plants could have easily infected other, seemingly healthy, foliage.
Chandra gazed around the darkened landscape again and realized that, in fact, she was skeptical about finding any healthy-looking plants, at all. The sullen shroud of dark magic she sensed earlier seemed to stretch far and wide across this place.
She needed to get out of here and return to Regatha. There were problems to be faced and solved back there. Hopefully, the oufe tribe that wanted her dead had calmed down a bit by now. And as for the Order of Heliud, and Walbert’s demand that Chandra be turned over to his custody … Well, just let Walbert’s soldiers try to come take her from the mountains. She’d make sure it didn’t take long for them to rethink that plan.
Even so, as much as she wanted to leave this plane immediately, she knew—particularly after her recent experience—that she needed to recoup some of her strength before trying to re-enter the Blind Eternities. She had to search for some water, then get some rest. The syrupy darkness of the night sky and the full brilliance of the moon suggested that morning was still a long way off. By then, Chandra should be ready to planeswalk back to Regatha.
“All right,” she said, looking around at the eerie landscape. “Water.”
Despite her driving thirst, her surroundings were so creepy that it was with some reluctance that she set out in any direction. Although it was unquestionably better than being chained to a wall with her power being sucked away by seven giant snakes as a prelude to death by torture, wandering alone through the darkness was still a less-than-enjoyable endeavor.
She had not gone far when she heard noise coming from a cluster of bushes that she was passing, the rustle of dead vegetation under stomping footsteps, some faint, high-pitched squealing, some growling.
Chandra crouched down and crept closer to the commotion. The intensity of the squealing increased sharply, scraping at her senses. The growling was replaced by satisfied grunting and the noisy smacking of … robust chewing?
Chandra pushed further into the thicket, taking care to move silently. Peering between leafless branches, she spotted her quarry.
She found herself looking at some sort of goblin. It was squat and ungainly, with lumpy gray skin, hairy legs, and arms so long they would surely drag along the ground when it stood up and walked. Its bald head was immense, and its long, pointy ears flopped sideways in a ridiculous manner. It was hunched over and grunting, while something in its grasp squealed. Chandra saw a tail and flailing little paws …
When she realized the beast was eating a small animal alive, she gasped aloud in revulsion.
The goblin heard her and whirled around to face her. Its fangs dripped with blood and entrails as it growled at her. The little animal in its grasp continued squealing in agony. Chandra’s appalled gaze flashed to the animal’s eviscerated torso and wiggling paws.
“Ugh! What are you doing?” she demanded. “Even for a goblin, this is unbelievable!”
The goblin stared at her for a moment, crouching frozen while its agonized prey flailed and squealed. Then, as if afraid Chandra would try to steal its treat, the creature stuffed the entire mole into its mouth and crunched down hard. Chandra wince
d at the mole’s final, shrill scream, followed closely by the sound of its splintering bones. The goblin’s cheeks bulged as it chewed, still staring at Chandra.
Then the creature swallowed its meal in one huge gulp and went completely still. The goblin and Chandra stared at each other in silence.
“Well,” she said at last. “That may not be the single most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen, but it’s definitely on the list.”
“List?” The goblin’s voice was deep and husky.
“Never mind.”
“Don’t kill,” it said.
“Agreed. You don’t kill me, and I won’t kill you.”
It nodded. Its ears flopped a little.
“Where are we?” Chandra asked.
The goblin looked around for a moment, then returned its gaze to Chandra. “Bushes.”
“I meant, what’s the name of this realm?”
“Diraden.”
“Never heard of it.”
The goblin pointed at her. “What name?”
“Chandra. And you?”
“Jurl.”
“Jurl, show me where there’s water.” When the goblin didn’t move, just continued to stare at her, she added, “I don’t like to brag, Jurl, but I’m a powerful fire mage. If you take me to water, I’ll be nice. If you don’t, I’ll be mean.”
“Water.” The goblin looked over its shoulder. “Maybe not safe.”
“Not safe? Is the water bad?” That might explain why everything around here was dying.
Jurl shook his head. “Water good.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Maybe guarded.”
“By who?”
“Prince Velrav. Sometimes.”
“A prince guards the water?” Chandra said skeptically.
“Servants.”
“Oh, servants of the prince guard the water.” That made a little more sense. But not much. “Why guard water in a place as wet as Diraden?”
The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel Page 10