Glissa, the Traitor by Steve Argyle

This is the second installment in my Commander fiction contest feature series. If you missed out on Ben Nassau’s take on Rafiq a couple weeks ago, check it out!

Today, I’m ecstatic to introduce community member and contest runner-up Khin Kyaw. As I read Khin’s short story, I seriously couldn’t recall the last time a piece of fiction had made me laugh out loud so much. Khin’s vision of Rafiq as a disgruntled, aging gentleman farmer was instantly charming. She wisely juxtaposes this Rafiq to a bookish, ingenue planeswalker who is equally charming in his or her awkward desire to “save the world.”

Stunningly, this is Khin’s first attempt at fiction—what great talent. I hope to see more from her in the future. This is very good character-driven work, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Khin Kyaw is a medical doctor, science fiction enthusiast, and lifestyle blogger from Johannesburg, South Africa. Until recently, she was a strictly-spaceships kind of person, but certain events involving goblins have ignited her passion for fantasy.

She suffers from chronic wanderlust and has never met a sandwich she didn't like. When not playing or judging Magic: The Gathering, she can be found taking a shortcut, starting a sewing project, or searching for sable in the Kruger National Park.

She writes about freedom and frugality at www.urbanosprey.wordpress.com.

Of course, I gave Khin the flavorful interview—and she delivered with some zingy, flavorful answers! In the next weeks, keep an eye out for the third installment of this series, when we get to enjoy an athletic Rafiq from runner-up Lucas Paletta. Until then, I hope you get a chuckle out of Khin’s version of our old soldier Rafiq in: The Quest for the Holy Relic.

-MJ (@moxymtg)

What moment with Magic first got you hooked?

The stack is what hooked me. As soon as I understood the significance of Lightning Bolt and Giant Growth on a Grizzly Bears, as opposed to Giant Growth and Lightning Bolt, I was a goner for sure.

What are a couple of your favorite Commander decks? How’d they come into being?

I have only one Commander deck. It is a carefully curated collection of the best card art and flavour text in Magic . . . basically, it’s a whole bunch of goblins! The deck is a riot in multiplayer but not much fun one-on-one, due to the fact that it always wins.

If you could steal an item of clothing or an accessory off any planeswalker and it keep it for yourself, what would you choose, and why?

I often find myself lusting after Chandra’s boots.

Forced into exile on New Phyrexia, which three Magical items do you take with you?

Glissa, Melira, and a box of cheap wine. Party at the end of the world!

What’s your number-one suggestion for improving Magic in a Vorthos-cares area? (Art, culture, social/community issues, books, comics, etc.)

I have a dream that one day there will be better representation and inclusivity in Magic. This is the second item on my to-do list for when I take over the multiverse.

Meanwhile, it would be nice to have an online space dedicated to non-traditional and minority members of the Magic community. Vorthos is the perfect entry point for this, I think. Amplifying the voice of players and fans who normally go unheard would be a great way to create a more nuanced and rewarding experience for everyone.

You can ask for (and be guaranteed to receive) one artifact as a holiday gift from Karn. What do you ask for?

I’d ask for Sensei's Divining Top. Specifically, Sensei’s Divining Dreidel altered art! Then, I’d regift it to my partner. I’m pretty sure the Dreidel would return to my possession every time he spun it, making it the perfect holiday gift . . . every year into eternity.

Say you got the dream job of writing a creative piece (like an e-book) for Magic. Which plane would be your preferred setting, and what would you write into the plot given free reign?

The landscape of Ravnica is changing once again, this time due to a sudden influx of foreign forces and strange technologies. There are rumours of interplanar travel and a growing black market for cybernetic organisms. A brash young scientist on the run from galactic police hopes to start a new life on this plane but finds herself completely out of her depth in the world of magic . . .

Sydri, Galvanic Genius by Terese Nielsen

Life-or-death question; you have to choose: What’s your favorite card art ever?

Definitely Delver of Secrets/Insectile Aberration, based on a creative interpretation of the word “favourite.” The first time I saw the card, I screamed in terror—no joke—and have never mustered up the courage to look again. When my opponents play with it, I just kinda squint.

The Quest for the Holy Relic

Khin Kyaw

“The farm?”

“The family farm,” said Rafiq, nodding at me approvingly for mentioning his favourite topic of conversation, “is doing very well these days. No zombies. Perfect place to retire. You'll find me there, when it's all over.”

“When what's over, General?”

“This quest, of course,” he grumbled. “This is my final quest, you hear? And it's going to be a quiet one. Stop asking stupid questions.”

We marched across the fields, my cloak dragging along the ground. After some distance, we saw two mages in the beginning stages of a duel. The little one was waving her arms about, her unruly curls an electric shade of scarlet and her face almost as red as her hair. The other stood smirking, one eyebrow raised. He was statuesque and lean, with long dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail.

“You sap!” screamed the scarlet mage, tossing a volley of fireballs in his direction. “You lying little sap!”

Her opponent dismissed them with a flick of his hand. The light from multiple auras glinted menacingly off his very white teeth.

“Nice to see you, too, sweetheart. You haven't changed a bit.”

I wiped my spectacles and shook out the hem of my cloak in anticipation of a fight. But Rafiq placed a hand on my shoulder and motioned in the opposite direction.

“Time to go,” he said. “Looks like these two have some unfinished business. Let's give them some privacy, eh?”

We headed into a lush valley. My companion stopped to catch his breath and soak his feet in a stream. He was muscular but beginning to soften around the edges—his stomach strained against his armour. There was a clear line across his face, a soldier's tan. His skin was dark, and it was hard to tell where the wrinkles ended and the scars began.

“So . . . You're retiring?”

“Hurrumph.”

“They say you've been around a long time. They say you're one of the best.”

“Been around, that's for sure. Time to hang up the helmet.”

“I've read all about your battles, you know. Back at the Academy. You're the best tactician in history—”

“Reading!” Rafiq snorted. “Reading! Should've known . . . ”

“Hey, Rafiq.”

Silence.

“Hey, Rafiq. You think there's other guys looking for it?”

Rafiq pointed to a plume of purple smoke in the distance. “Yes,” he said. “And they're over there. Dangerous, by the looks of things. Dark.”

The smoke spiraled toward us, poisoning the air. A hooded figure materialised from the fog. Beside him was—what, exactly?—a woman . . . an insect . . . ?

Rafiq drew his sword. “Damn,” he said, “it’s Sheoldred.”

The planeswalker that Sheoldred attended nodded in greeting. His skin was pale, and his eyes were ringed in black. A silver stud glinted from his nose.

“Looking for something?” he asked me.

“Nope,” I replied, “just smelling the flowers.”

“Look, mate,” he said. “We're not the only ones who want the Mox. If things go balls up, you'd stand a better chance on my side, yeah? Name's Richard.”

I adjusted my spectacles and crossed my arms. “Well, Richard—can I call you Dick?—well Dick, that's not really my style.”

“Right then. Let's stop mucking about.” He raised his staff, and a cloud of minions descended from the darkening sky.

I ran for cover and scrambled to build an army, summoning my creatures one by one. Pretty soon, Rafiq was pacing up and down in front of a massive swarm of slivers and proudly inspecting his troops. They flicked their forked tails in unison and swayed from side to side. As they grew in number, the buzz of the swarm changed from a faint hum to a deep drone. I felt my bones begin to vibrate.

“Watch my back, boys. I'm going in.” Rafiq sliced through the dark minions, heading straight for Richard. My opponent yelped in surprise. Then he shrugged.

“Mutilate.”

His army melted into a pool of sludge. The slivers let out a high-pitched wail as they, too, began to melt. Richard stood with both arms raised, thick purple smoke encircling him and spiraling out onto the battlefield. The smoke cleared to reveal a mass of zombies lumbering toward me.

“Watch out!” Rafiq threw me to the ground as a zombie splattered against his shield.

“Come on, kid; try to focus. Daddy needs a Whispersilk Cloak. Where's your mind?”

I pointed at Richard. “He's got it,” I said, “but I never liked it anyway.”

How many Storm Crows does it take to change a light bulb, I wondered. Why did Nicol Bolas cross the road? My head felt very heavy. Probably a good idea to lie down . . .

I felt a rough hand slapping my cheek and saw Rafiq peering anxiously into my eyes, sweat beading off his nose.

“There's nobody left,” he panted. “Get me the Cloak. I can get through with the Cloak!”

Our weapons were strewn across the battlefield with no creatures to wield them. I heard a nauseating shriek as a beautiful shadow swooped down towards us: Phage the Untouchable.

“No Cloak.” I jumped to my feet. “Quick, give me a sword!”

“Which one?”

“For Fblthp’s sake, General!”

“The swords are rather heavy,” he said, “better take this.” He placed a small dagger in my hand. The stone handle felt warm. Its etchings were worn smooth but I recognised a familiar sigil.

“Where did you get this?”

“Ask me later, kid. No time for a history lesson.”

She circled me slowly, her long fingers twitching and her lips stained black. She was mesmerising. She reached out to touch me . . .

I drew the dagger across my chest. Blood seeped through my robes. “Dismember.”

Phage shrieked as she was torn to pieces. The dark planeswalker raised his eyebrows as he turned toward me.

“Nice one,” he sneered. “But that was a bit daft, wasn't it? I can easily get her back.” Behind him, I saw his dark army silently implode and fall to the ground as dust. Sheoldred gave out a strangled hiss. Her wormlike torso lifted itself out of her rapidly disintegrating shell and slithered away.

I was horrified—then I giggled uncontrollably. Richard realised his mistake just in time to see Phage take shape in the air beside him. She stretched out her hand . . .

“Bollocks—”

His scream was lost in the howling of the wind.

. . .

The General came striding toward me, two swords slung casually over each shoulder.

“Hey, old man,” I teased. “Looks like you've still got it!”

Rafiq removed his helmet and glowered at me. “That,” he said in an icy voice, “was completely uncalled for.”

“I'm sorry . . . Sir. Um, you're not that old—”

He waved me away as if swatting a fly. “Not that, you upstart.” He cleared his throat. “There is no need for dark magic. Not with me around.”

I looked up at him through the cracked glass of my spectacles. I saw a legendary Commander, split into shards. A heroic general. A stubborn old man.

“Rafiq. They would've killed us.”

“Yes,” he said. “Then perhaps we should have died.”

. . .

That evening, I was restless. The air was still charred from battle, and the daffodils had curled up, as if recoiling from a horrific memory. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Richard's silent scream as he disintegrated into dust; I felt my own body scatter in the storm, spiraling faster and faster . . .

“First battle, huh?” Rafiq’s gruff voice cut through the night air.

“Of course not!”

“Hmm. Well, you're no Elspeth.”

I rolled over onto my side.

“Never liked her,” he continued, “Elspeth, I mean. Always waving that flag around, giving away our position. Bossy, too.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “So. You really gonna retire?”

He sighed. “That's the plan, kid. That's always been the plan.”

“And your dagger—”

Suddenly, he jumped to his feet, one hand over my mouth and the other gripping his sword. His knuckles were white.

Then, I heard a whistling sound and turned just in time to dodge an arrow flying toward my face. It was an arrow made of birch—long, smooth, and impossibly straight. It was almost a work of art. I noticed for the first time that the forest behind us had been unusually quiet. What I saw through the foliage nearly stopped my heart: rows upon rows of elves with their bows aimed directly at my head.

Scarlet yelled some obscenities across the valley. “Hey!” she called out to me, “Hey, wimp! I believe you have something we want.”

“Probably,” I replied, “just give me a minute.”

I glanced at Rafiq. “General,” I said, “I didn't expect you to be the deceptive type.”

My companion smiled wryly. “Nobody ever does.”

“Hand it over.”

“Hand what over?”

“You're a bad liar, Rafiq.”

I placed my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look in my eyes. “There are a million legends about the Mox, told on a thousand planes, and they all end the same—infinite power only leads to infinite greed. Worlds have been annihilated in the name of the Holy Relic; entire civilisations have been crushed . . . ”

I looked away, blinking furiously. “Chasing the Mox Lotus has been my life's work, General. I don't want to use it. I want to destroy it.”

Rafiq stared at me. “Well, screw me sideways with a Chimney Imp. You're smarter than you look.”

He threw the dagger in the air. The blade and handle fell away to reveal the Mox Lotus. It shot into the sky then remained suspended, piercing the clouds with a steely, grey light.

The General embraced me, lifting me clear off the ground. “Thanks . . . ”

“Mpppfh!” I said into his shoulder.

He released me and stepped back. I took a deep breath.

“Planar Cleansing.”

A harsh dry wind whipped the trees, tossing elves and goblins into a distant void. The light from the Holy Relic began to fade as the wind eroded its surface. Soon, it would crumble into dust. I gathered my billowing cloak around me and straightened my spectacles, scanning the chaos to find Rafiq.

As he was pulled into the void, the General caught my eye and gave a salute.

“Thanks, kid. See you on the farm.”

_________