observation

Not everyone was necessarily surprised to learn of the existence of other planes.

You don’t get to Chernava’s age, and her status, without listening close to the whispers around you in the dark of your quarters. It’s a secret that the Dimir would have been jealous of before the blue zombies decided to ruin everyone’s day.

There was a time when certain people, very rarely, would disappear, utterly. No trace of them, besides the life they left behind. It was during a time when the Dimir were thought extinct, the Simic controlled subjects through cytoplasts, and nasty beings stirred deep beneath the city. They would never return, their fires on Ravnica snuffed out forever. The families noticed, but soon forgot as generations passed. Not Chernava, though. One or two over those years were favored clientele, and the demon never forgot a pretty face.

Then the Decamillenial brought disaster with it, and she watched Rakdos fall in battle with a cytoplasmic mass. She watched the rise of five unknowable beings, two of them slain by the Izzet parun. Novijen was destroyed, Prahv ruined, the first Parhelion wiped off the face of the plane, Rix Maadi quieted, Nivix emptied. Then not a few years later, some of those faces that had long disappeared returned. They came back with eyes that had seen too much, or eyes that contained fervent wonder, or eyes that were just… tired.

After that, things settled into a terse peace. The Guildpact shattered, the plane survived on a tentative set of laws penned by the remaining guildmasters. Chernava began to notice things. Strange things, but things that kept out of the way. People that didn’t quite resemble the average Ravnican citizen. New things, intriguing things. Things others of the Cult would love to break in new and exciting ways, but that she was interested in in a much different manner. After all, is life not about chasing that next high? Tasting the excitement of something you’ve never seen before?

Such is why she thought odd the boy that solved the Dragon’s Maze. A guildless who became the Living Guildpact? How strange, strange indeed. And surely, if there weren’t something odd about him, he wouldn’t disappear as often as he did? A Living Guildpact bound to Ravnica wouldn’t disappear as often as he did, but she wouldn’t pretend to know why.

Life went on, and brought a steady stream of new excitements with it. And between those excitements, Chernava continued to build her status in her guild, as an entertainer of a different sort. One day, she wondered, would Lord Rakdos himself find his way to her quarters? She questioned how he would fit, but then, many who sought his private audience wondered the same thing. You don’t top Lord Rakdos. Lord Rakdos tops you.

The Living Guildpact’s longest disappearance brought with it the most excitement, and the most tension. Change in leadership all around! More and more faces and beings she had never seen! Chernava, of course, knew that this was steadily building into a spectacle, either a grand finale or the climax to someone else’s story.

She captured a strange fox and taught her how to insult and mock. She witnessed the misadventures of an undercity sporemage, a shark man, the most obvious Dimir on the face of the plane and the softest vampire in Ravnican history.

She watched the Gruul get choked off by the Selesnya, and she laughed. For being as accepting as they were, they were as selfish as a collective as her. What a riot. What a scream. And yet, their conclave wasn’t immune to their own whims. In the building tension, she took some pride in giving some of them the gift of independent thought. It simply won’t do to love others while you neglect your own needs. Sometimes, the only one who’ll look out for you is you.

She kept her head low as the iron grip of the Azorius bore down on her home. She very rarely put on performances that weren’t of the private kind, but even she stepped onto the stage to tear into the new guildmaster, Baan. She didn’t fear the arresters. After all, she hadn’t done anything illegal. Contraband magic? Certainly not. Only the words of someone who has watched the show for a very long time.

She watched the strange Izzet device light up, and watched hundreds on hundreds of faces arrive before her, in whorls of magic. As if they had disappeared from their homes, and appeared here. All kinds, even those she’d never seen. And she laughed, because it all made sense now, the strange things she’d seen since the Decamillenial.

And then the Hall of the Guildpact was destroyed, before anyone could raise a single hand in its defense.

And the laughing stopped.

Rare was it for Chernava to raise a hand to save another, to be sure. She was only out for herself, in the end, herself and few others that she had grown close with. But in the midst of the war, she wouldn’t let present and future clients see as horrible of an end as the Eternals presented. Their ends should be a spectacle, because the one thing everyone deserves is a blaze of glory. These tales weren’t yet to end, she still hadn’t gotten into their pants yet.

But she couldn’t say she was surprised.

And when the dust finally settled, and she did all she could… she laughed again.

Because tomorrow is always an illusion.