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- From a balcony halfway up one of Ravnica’s great spires, Jace stared downward, his eyesight enhanced by a touch of clairvoyance. He leaned casually against the railing and watched for a few moments as crowds of people ran screaming from the columns of fire that heralded the arrival of Baltrice’s firecat. Their quarry, one of the bald and blue-skinned vedalken—named, uh, Serien? Sevrien? Something like that—rolled across the cobblestones and came swiftly to his feet, a gleaming shield on one arm, a brutally serrated scimitar in the other hand.
- ***
- Agents of Artifice, Chapter 11
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