Loren L Loren L. Coleman “Bloodlines” (Magic: the Gathering. Artifact cycle. Book IV.) Preface THE LEGACY Barrin paused in the classroom’s open doorway, his charitable mood fading. Barely an hour returned to the Tolarian Academy, the master mage had decided to walk a quick tour of the main building before retiring, a habit he formed over his many years as the academy’s chief administrator. Tonight it years as the academy’s chief administrator. Tonight it possessed the added benefit of giving Rayne a chance to finish her own unpacking. Her private apartment was not far down Scholar’s Row from his own, and when she finished, he thought, they might linger over a second exchange of goodnights Seeing light spilling down the tiled hallway, Barrin decided to offer assistance to what was certainly tutors up late preparing the next day’s lessons. Students, of course, obeyed a strict curfew, and the academy’s full scholars rarely, if ever, required such late-night preparations. Rayne was likely to be waiting for him-a slight twinge against his conscience-but he knew that in his place she also would be checking in to offer advice. Besides, adding his personal touch helped to keep Barrin in contact with the daily functions of the academy. This had been, after all, his first real leave of absence. The first thing Barrin noticed was that someone had punched a new door into the classroom. The rough hole in the previously complete wall stood open, not even framed, and at odds with the smooth plaster and elegant woodwork finishes put on academy facilities. A curiosity turned slightly alarming when he recognized the room beyond contained Urza’s primary laboratory. That alarm lasted mere seconds, as Urza himself walked from the back room followed by the silver golem Karn. Both of them carried books and scrolls which they added to a growing pile surrounding the lectern. Barrin frowned over the activity. His scowl deepened as he realized that Urza was too distracted to have yet noticed the mage’s presence-a fact which should have been instantly registered by the planeswalker’s preternatural senses. A distracted Urza could be a most dangerous thing. The man standing in front of Barrin was known throughout history as the defiler of Argoth and the harbinger of the Ice Age, though Urza himself could not-or would not-admit with one hundred percent certainty that the global catastrophe resulted from his efforts. Barrin was inclined to give the planeswalker the benefit of the doubt, especially since his track record had improved since coming back to Tolaria after the last major disaster, but benefit of the doubt was one thing, careless blind faith was another. The master mage was feeling a bit unnerved by the sight of the deeply focused Urza. As he approached the lectern, Barrin recognized in the ‘walker’s intense stare and disconnected manner that same fanatical drive that motivated and created the last set of cataclysmic events. He knew that Urza was again obsessing on his personal crusade: Phyrexia. Those creatures had once been the ancient Dominarian race of the Thran-who at the height of their achievements had mastered a level of artifice unknown to anyone since-save perhaps Urza himself. Then some kind of war tore the Thran from their advanced ways and sent them hurtling down a darker path toward wicked corruption. They were forced to leave Dominaria for an artificially created plane-nine spheres nested inside one another turning blacker and more torturous the closer they get to the center-and after a time they emerged from their exile as the twisted, hideous abominations that have plagued Urza for millennia. For the loss of his brother, for the death of his one-time traveling companion Xantcha, for replacing that which was human with corrupted artifice the realm of Phyrexia had earned its place as Urza’s enemy, one planeswalker against nine nested spheres of malignant, venomous force. His vendetta had nearly cost him his life-existence rather-several times over. So far, others had paid that price for him. Though obsession was doubly dangerous in a being so powerful, Barrin could understand Urza’s pain and nearly forgive the planeswalker his costly mistakes. Barrin believed in Urza’s war on Phyrexia, believed that they would return to Dominaria (had seen them with his own eyes), and that without Urza and the efforts of the Tolarian Academy there would be little in the way of stopping them. For that reason Barrin had helped create the Weatherlight, the skyship that would presumably be the ultimate weapon against the day of invasion. Barrin always doubted the veracity of such an assertion, but Urza had stood adamant-convinced. If this weapon was capable of defending Dominaria from invasion, why was Urza again demonstrating the distracted intensity which Barrin had learned to recognize and fear? Karn noticed the mage’s approach first, his deep-set eyes widening with recognition. The silver golem certainly would have spoken a greeting if Barrin had not been prepared and have spoken a greeting if Barrin had not been prepared and spoke first. Seldom it was that Barrin could take Urza by surprise, and usually he learned something from it-never too old to be a student. “I had not heard of your return, Urza. Welcome back.” Urza had disappeared six months ago, after helping to settle the refugees from Serra’s Realm across Dominaria and returning only once with a handful of new students and three new scholars, including Rayne. Urza did not bother to turn around. He simply reformed the patterns of energy which made up his body so that suddenly he