creates avacyn and the helvault

Sorin's consciousness had been spread out across the weeks he'd been down here. Or was it months? Years? He couldn't be certain, but in the midst of his trance, a spot of white found him. It cut through all the layers of his awareness, growing closer with each moment, until finally, it touched him. And then, in the span of a heartbeat, the wayward parts of his mind scrambled over each other to find their correct places in his being. The rush was almost too great for him bear. Something had gone wrong. Something had pulled him prematurely from his restoration.

When his eyes fluttered open, Sorin found himself sitting on the stone floor of a modest sanctuary. Slowly, he rose to his feet, a task that took more effort than it should have. He was still weakened and depleted, and as he gathered himself on unsteady legs, he noticed a dark stain that stretched out across the sanctuary floor—a permanent black shadow in the shape of an angel, a testament to the magnitude of his recent exertion, his creation.

Then the white light once again strobed in Sorin's head, and with the fog of the trance lifted, Sorin recognized it for what it was—the signature of another Planeswalker arriving on Innistrad, drawn to his Helvault.

***

PROMISES OLD AND NEW