diary entry 4

Dear diary,

I’m getting that feeling again.

When I was home, after I was taken to the palace, I started getting these feelings of dread whenever I would look at the Oasis. Gazing into it, I guess I saw the new leylines already forming. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach that things were going to happen and they were going to go downhill fast. And I was right. My sense of apprehension paid off when the flux kicked in, full swing. Some of our countries fared better than others. My Darastrith did fine, while Glasbryn was in shambles. But still it was an upheaval that no one was prepared for.

Landing on Dominaria was almost a relief. It was a plane that had already seen those major upheavals and wore its scars proudly. In a way it made me feel a bit better about the fate of Chrontomus. If this plane could survive all these apocalypses and still flourish, then surely my home could handle a shifting of mana. But I still knew I needed to get home. It became less and less about worrying for my plane, and started becoming more and more about being homesick. I still am homesick.

When I came back to this plane, the plane of Ravnica, after being scared away the first time, for a bit it was fine. I rented an apartment with the money I was able to save up from busking and I tried to find odd jobs to hold onto it, while I continued to look for home. I even bought the explosion insurance, after I learned about the guilds here. It’s a nice place even though it’s small, and it’s nice to be able to be somewhere where I won’t be poked in the name of science when I’m trying to sleep. My apartment is mine, and mine alone.

But as I’ve been about, and I’ve learned that here I don’t need to disguise myself as long as I let them assume that I’m a Simic experiment, I’ve heard whisperings. Of missing guildmasters and murders. I’ve seen the steam contraptions with no clear purpose here and there, being constructed. They remind me of Kaldraixen, in exactly as sinister a way as the night I sparked.

Something wicked this way comes.

I once said I was the one who could run away, but also the one who could choose to stay. Now, I’m wondering what to do. I don’t know if my fears are unfounded and this is just how the plane of Ravnica works. I was told once that murder is barely above robbery, and as sad as it is, I see why with how populated this place is. I’m not dumb. But of a guildmaster? The ten big-wigs? That seems like something dirty.

I can’t help but think back to the ruined plane with the horns plastered everywhere. How they saw my horns and came for me with spear and sword. And I can’t blame them, not at all. Is the same thing going to happen here? Should I keep trying to find home, or stay and see if my intuitions are correct?

My life just keeps getting stupider.