AN: Despite the overwhelming lack of response to Ch1, I have finally decided to plow on ahead with this story. A special thanks goes to those two(If there was more I apologize) brave souls who put this on watch, I can't remember your names, but thank you all the same. This one's for you.
Disclaimer: I don't own MTG. Wow, who'd thunk it? I am merely borrowing their stuff in an attempt to make up for the tragedy(in my opinion) that was the Scars Block Novel.
The time; sixty four passes of the Black Sun after the end of the war between the natives of Mirrodin and the Phyrexian invaders, the place; Ish Sah. Ish Sah, the Vault of Whispers, heart of the Mephidross, and site of the Black Lacuna; this towering mountain in the middle of the most forbidding part of Mirrodin's landscape strikes fear into anyone who manages to make it through the acid pits and necrogen clouds of the surrounding swamp. The mountain topped by a towering plume of the necrogen gas that converts those unlucky enough to inhale to the zombies known as Nim, who roam the surrounding swamp. One side of the otherwise conical shape of Ish Sah is besmirched by a gaping circular hole, torn open near the beginning of the world when the Black Sun burst forth from Mirrodin's core and took its place in the sky. Its dark power resonating with their own origin and its lacuna a -convenient passage from the depths of the planet where the oil began its work, Ish Sah was the first Phyrexian stronghold on the surface Mirrodin, and now it serves as a stronghold to one of its greatest generals, the great necromancer Geth.
Geth's throne room was located in the depths of Ish Sah's cavern system, its high vaulted ceiling invisible in the perpetual gloom of the dark mountain's interior. The layout of the room was fairly simple; an arched passageway that lead to the main areas of cavern system at one end, Geth's throne at the other, and along the sides smaller passageways leading to the necromancers personal rooms. The throne, a great spiky thing made of darkened bones and the twisted black metal that made up most the Mephidross, was carefully located directly above the Black Lacuna, so that its occupant might more easily draw upon the power that even now lingers there. Today a great hulking figure sat upon the throne, its head damaged by long term exposure to necrogen gas and the ravages of time and looking completely out of proportion to the rest of its massive body made of bone and metal and muscle. Today Geth sat upon his throne and pondered perhaps the most important question of his existence "Why do I not rule this world?" This had always been the necromancer's ambition, the domination of Mirrodin, seeing its populace subjected beneath his fist. Now he was perhaps the closest he had ever been, but in some ways he was at the same time the furthest. Because now Geth, for the first time in his life and death, was not his own master, he worked for the Phyrexians.
It had seemed a good idea at the time, during the conflict with Memnarch he had been reduced to a mere head, only his great skill at necromancy keeping him functioning. When the final confrontation with the then ruler of Mirrodin took place deep in the bowls of the world Geth had been there, and after it was resolved he had been left there. Then one pass (he didn't know how many it had taken, with no access to the sky Geth had quickly lost track of time) the strange creatures he later learned were called Phyrexians had come across him, recognized his unmatched skill at his craft, and offered to construct him a new body in return for his aid in their goal of conquering Mirrodin and converting it to something more suitable for them. He immediately agreed, thinking that once he had a body again it would be simple to seek out their hidden leaders, the Praetor's, defeat them, and claim their forces for his own.
Hold on, he hadn't even tried to do that, why hadn't he tried to do that? Why hadn't he even realized this flaw in his immaculate planning and stratagems before now? What was wrong with him?
After constructing him his new body, a far more powerful one than his old human frame, Geth turned his attention to the war and to making sure that those who dwelled on the surface of Mirrodin once again feared and reviled the name of the Lord of the Vault.
Wait a minute; hadn't he just been trying to figure out why he had never tried usurping the Praetors after he had received his new body? When did he go back to reminiscing over his campaign of terror? As good a job as he had done at that, it was by no means something that should distract him from a recent recollection of a lack of action so against his nature. To go along with a bargain, not even looking for a way to make it so that only he got what he wanted out of it? And then to forget such a thing! Geth grimaced; there was something wrong with him, something very wrong.
And the war had gone well for the most part, the occasional set back of course, but…
What was he doing?! Why did his mind keep drifting off topic like this? It was almost as if… oh but they wouldn't have. But no, it was clear by this point, someone had been messing with his mind. And by someone, Geth meant the Phyrexians. So they had thought to keep him on a leash had they? Well now that he knew about the psychic conditioning or whatever it was they had done to him, Geth felt confident that he could fight it and win.
And now that the war was over…
NO! His thoughts would not be turned from this! He was going to find out what else they had made him forget and then he was going to make them pay. Carefully of course, no need to spoil the advantage that they still thought they had his ambition neutered.
To begin, what exactly had they done to him? Geth began to sift mana through himself, seeing where it caught onto preexisting enchantments and spells. It was a costly but efficient way to detect magic, but Geth was in the middle of his fortress and had power to spare. Soon he found the spell affecting his thoughts, it was a clever piece of magic, designed to make the target think about something else that it made sense for them to be thinking of whenever their thoughts approached predefined topics, and then to bury the memories of ever having considered the offending thoughts. Moreover, since it didn't actually remove memories, just bury them; it would be much harder to notice that something was gone, since in truth it wasn't. Geth grinned; he was going to have fun using this spell later. Finding the spell had been simple enough, but removing it would be tricky. It was likely that one of the topics that activated the spell was considering a manner to remove it. Fortunately it looked like there was a delay between thinking about a forbidden topic and the spell kicking in so that if the mind wandered away from the topic on its own the spell wouldn't have to expend any power. This gave Geth time to act. He considered his advantages: he knew what would be coming and could steel himself against it beforehand, and while necromancy was his specialty he was still well versed in other aspects of using black mana, memory manipulation among them. Usefull, but more knowledge on the structure of the spell would be prudent before an attempt at removal. Geth analyzed the spell more carefully, careful to not dwell on plans to remove it just yet ; it was mainly protected by its very nature of being hard to think about; the actual spell wasn't overly robust. This made sense because its imprint on the mind needed to be light enough that it wouldn't be noticed by the passive senses of the victim.
Geth poured mana into himself, targeting the areas of his brain the forgetfulness spell was tied to. His task was made harder when the spell started to try and make him forget what he was doing. He had seen this coming though and had prepared for it. The spell battered back against the walls of his will strengthened by the influx of power, but to no avail. Soon the mana he continued to poor through his brain overloaded the forgetfulness spell. Geth was now free from its grasp. He turned his mind to trying to discover what else he had been forced to forget.
To begin with, what had actually happened that fateful pass when the Phyrexians had found him? Geth having lived or at the least existed for a long time and had found it prudent to develop methods to replay memories. He used one of them now, and to his surprise the proper phrase should have been when the Phyrexians had found them. Because Geth hadn't been alone then, he hadn't been abandoned down in the depths of Mirrodin as he had falsely thought; he had been with Glissa, his compatriot in the fight against that insane construct that called itself Memnarch. They had been walking through (well Glissa had been walking, Geth was being carried) some tunnels, looking for a source of water. Suddenly creatures that Geth could now identify as Phyrexians rushed toward them from around a bend. Geth and Glissa had fought well, Glissa using a sword to parry the Phyrexians' talons and filet them, and Geth had managed to gain control of one of the more undead member of the opposition and turn it against its fellows. But the Phyrexians kept coming. As the duo became exhausted Glissa shouted out "Run, get yourself to safety!"
Geth frowned, who had Glissa been yelling to? It couldn't have been him; by the black sun she had been carrying him! So there had been someone else. Why couldn't he remember? Maybe it was a lingering effect of the forgetfulness spell, a memory buried so many times that even with the spell gone it would take time to resurface? Geth decided to return to this later, for now he needed to know what had happened after they lost. He plunged back into his memories.
There wasn't much left of the fight. Geth had been ripped from Glissa's grasp and his magic stifled by an enemy mage. Glissa had been killed, impaled on one of the Phyrexians needle like appendages. That meant...Geth skipped ahead. There it was. Geth, his memories now at a point after he had received his new body, watched has the Phyrexians raised Glissa as a twisted undead monster, and she in turn pledged her eternal loyalty to their cause. Geth fumed; Glissa, with the possible exception of that other person he couldn't remember right now, was the only individual Geth had ever respected. He had admired her perseverance, her skill, her courage, and of course her looks. To see her this way, twisted and forced into serving a cause she never would have in life made him furious. He was the only one with that right to do that to her, because he was the only one who could understand what breaking her will truly meant. To see the Phyrexians subvert her, merely because she would be useful to them angered him now that he was free of their spell and able think clearly. What had the spell made him think then, that she had wanted this? The idea was laughable now that he was thinking straight, Glissa had fought to free Mirrodin from Memnarch, she would have never given it over to another conquer.
Geth broke out of his recollections, he had spent enough time remembering this pass, it was time to get to work on planning his overthrow of the Phyrexians; for what they had done to Glissa, for what they had done to him, and most importantly because they stood between him and ruling the world.
The caverns were pitch black and the Bearer was tired. An all too frequent state of things. The Bearer wouldn't make light and wouldn't stop moving, ever fearing discovery. No matter; the time for running and hiding was soon to end, and then it would be the time for doing. It so missed doing.
AN: And there we go. Our second main character, and this time not an OC(rejoicing!). Next time will be the introduction of the third of five groups/individuals that the story will focus on. Although I might put group/individual #4 into their own story. Time will tell, and I will tell you in an Authors Note if that does happen.