Your eyes wander, trying to penetrate the Gloom and haze that surrounds you. A footstep forward, water and mud squishing underneath, admitting your foot until it is buried.

Another step, another sunken foot. You don't remember when you last set foot upon solid land. Perhaps it was a few steps back, perhaps an hour's travel. Perhaps it is both.

"Where are we Jodah?" a voice asks from your left.

You pause in your slow, deliberate pace to look at the woman plodding along beside you. The beautiful woman with auburn hair and piercing blue eyes as dark as the deep sea stands a long stride away looking frustrated, but not worried. A woman of strong magical skills like Sima has no reason to fear a simple Swamp, but she is of no help when it comes to scouting the wilderness.

It is because of her scouting that you are now trudging through mud and water.

You hear yourself respond, "A swamp." as if it would clarify your present situation.

"But we've been in here for hours, and I feel no closer to the City of Shadows."

Agreeing that your current path seems pointless you decide to search for higher ground, or at least a trail. Telling Sima to wait a moment, you begin making your way through a nearby Tangle of vines.

The other side holds nothing but more gloom. You push on.

After a few moments of travel, you take a rest from the tiring pace, and stand still, breathing heavily. Between your breaths you here a quiet sound, almost as if tiny waves were lapping against a giant tree. Then everything goes black.

You wake to the sound of voices in a foreign language. The sounds are heavy, and the words guttural. The sound of a splash, then the heavy burlap over your head is withdrawn.

Your first instinct is to determine where you are. Your head swivels around, searching your new surroundings for clues. To one side, a babbling stream with two merfolk receding in the distance, to the other, Mountain and barren rock. It is to this side that your new captor walks.

Then you realize you are no longer bound.

You scramble to catch up to the departing figure, wanting to know why you were abducted. As you get closer the figure becomes clearer, and you notice his unusual garb. He is covered from head to toe in various sizes and colors of clothe. When you speak to him he refuses to answer, but merely gestures in the direction he is traveling.

Not knowing what else to do, you follow.

For half a day you walk. The pace remains the same. The scenery stubbornly refuses to change. A few sparse trees pass you by, but nothing else seems to inhabit the rocky lowlands.

As you begin wondering if the man of clothe will ever stop to eat, a citadel comes into focus on the horizon. With nothing else to measure it by, the citadel appears fairly small. The architecture is simple, born of practicality, not extravagance. As you get closer you see that the citadel's size is much larger than you had guessed, filling your entire view. Yet its lack of decoration remains true.

Too occupied with your assessment of the citadel, you fail to notice the rag man leave your presence.

Almost immediately a guard calls upon you to halt, refusing to allow you entry. When you ignore his Warning and continue toward the gate two guards advance like wolves ready for the kill.

Confused, you defend yourself.

Only after the skirmish do you realize that the rag man has disappeared, and you are alone. You leave the two men on the ground, one blinded and the other unconscious, and lay your sword before a much larger group of guards rushing toward you.

Orders are yelled to others, your arms are bound, and a small party leads you into the citadel.

Instead of the main structure and tower you head toward a small metal door of no discernible importance. The surrounding architecture is small and square, attached to larger parts of the citadel by a suspended stone walkway. You see no signs of life other than a handful of guards securing the gate and walls, too few to Repel a full-scale attack.

After throwing you onto the floor before a thin, cleanly-looking man, the guards depart. The man looks down on you with interest, almost as if you were a long-lost friend that he has forgotten.

"Well, you certainly have caused quite a stir among the guards. Perhaps you would like to explain yourself and why you have come to the Conclave of Mages?"

Knowing of no lie stranger than the truth, you tell the man how you arrived at his door. Questions follow your tale, and you answer as best as you can.

Finally, the man nods and ends his questioning.

"It seems that you are one of us, and belong here. However, you have one last challenge to face before we accept you as our own."

The man points to a simple sword leaning against the wall to your right, then departs with a flourish of his robes.

Months pass by.

You learn that the cleanly-looking man's name is Barl, and is second in position to the ruler of the Conclave, Mairsil. You make friends among the other mages at the citadel, and learn new ways of using and manipulating Magic. You even come to enjoy life at the Conclave, finding it a suitable replacement for the City of Shadows.

Then things change.

"There is an old acquaintance of mine that has challenged me to a duel, Jodah. I cannot avoid this responsibility, and am forced to resort to the old way of things. Would you be my proxy? You are the most skilled mage here, and I am sure you could end it quickly."

Surprised by the strange request, you are flattered that Barl believes you worthy to represent him. The man has always taken care of you, and you readily agree.

A few days later, you find yourself in front of a mage covered in robes, his face hidden from view. Spells are hurled at each other, fire splashes against the stone walls of the hall, and then it is over.

The robes have burned away, and you come Face to Face with a woman with auburn hair and deep blue eyes.

Confused, you refuse to continue the fight, defying Mairsil's orders. He stalks toward you, his eyes alit with rage.

Then a wall on the far side of the hall Shatter.

Guards' voices shout orders, and through the chaos you make out the words, "Church of Tal!" Mairsil and Barl rush to defend the citadel, forgetting you and Sima.

As you catch your breath the rag man appears before you once again, pointing deeper into the Conclave. The truth seeps into your mind, and you follow him instantly.

The shouts and screams of battle fade as you wind deeper into the belly of the citadel, going further than you have ever dared before. Finally, you arrive above a vast pit, seemingly bottomless. Above, hangs a cage of watersilver, and an old mage held within.

Doing what the rag man has asked of you, you destroy the cage and set free Lord Ith.

Then the man releases a rampage of pure magic.

Stones Turn to Dust, and the ceiling begins to fall. You follow Sima at a dead run, determined to escape before the citadel collapses around you. The young woman turns a corner ahead. Following, you run directly into a newly fallen stone, blocking your path. You hit the floor with a jolt, and then awake.

You bolt upright, throwing a sheet to the floor. No one is around, and you find the familiar stone walls of your room solid and stable. Shaking from the dream and your cooling sweat, you lie back down with your eyes wide open.

This is a work of fiction based on the stories and entries provided by Wizards about some of the early characters. The author takes some liberty with the story for dramatic purposes. So the story portrayed here may not be the exact story according to Magic Canon. The author has found references and art to use in the following locations: Encyclopedia Phyrexianna and the MTG Salvation Wiki. Written by Brendan Weiskotten.