//------------------------------// // Search the City (for a Decent Pub) // Story: My Little Planeswalker: Twilight's Spark // by Zennistrad //------------------------------// The interior of the tavern was lit by a series of glyphs painted onto the ceiling, glowing with a very bright light that simultaneously managed to be softer than any lamp or lantern. The overall effect was very pleasant, making the entire building seem warm and inviting. Once again Twilight could make out an astounding amount of diversity among them, so much so that she no longer even bothered to try to observe all of their differences. Somehow, in the short time she had spent on the plane it had all become normal to her. The only people that stood out among the crowd were several human figures clad in gleaming silver plate mail, with long indigo capes that seemed altogether too still even without a noticeable air current. Everything about their armor was meticulously crafted, from the carefully-engraved runes to the fastidiously-tied sashes to the near-perfect symmetry of design, save for a scant few asymmetries that were placed with geometric precision. The swords they carried in their scabbards were remarkably broad, widest at the hilt and tapering sharply towards the end, granting them the shape of an elongated isosceles triangle. Their open-faced chainmail coifs each revealed expressions that were unreadable, save for an unblinking, ironclad gaze. Twilight felt a shiver run down the already uncomfortable knot in her back. Whoever these soldiers served, their very presence projected a palpable aura of authority and utmost devotion to order. They were almost certainly enforcers of some kind, though what laws they upheld she could only guess. Ignoring the thought, along with the ever-present headache from the conflicting sensations of her illusory self, Twilight made her way over to an unoccupied space by the bar. The bartender was another one of the short, green, hook-nosed humanoids that she had seen throughout the city. His gnarled skin was covered in a multitude of scars and blemishes, and a single black eyepatch was tied around his left eye. As Twilight stood at an empty space by the bar, she watched as the bartender grabbed a shot glass in his left hand, and then reached for a countertop containing a series of liquors and mixers. Then, in a stunning display of dexterity, he grabbed a bottle of liquor and tossed it into the air, following suit with two other bottles, and then finally the shot glass in the air. His arms moving in a blur of motion, he expertly juggled the cocktail ingredients. In the span of a second the shot glass perfectly upright on the countertop, and in the even shorter time between catching the bottles and throwing them back into the air, he poured small amounts of into the shot glass. When the glass was full, he tossed each of the bottles behind his back, where they landed on the countertop perfectly, without so much as a crack in the glass or a drop of alcohol out of place. The bartender snapped his fingers, and Twilight felt a tingle of residual magic as a small flame appeared on the tip of his thumb. He placed the fire against the edge of the shot glass, causing the cocktail to burst into flames. Then with his other hand he pushed it down the bar, where it came to a stop in front of a woman with goggles adorning her forehead, and red hair that almost looked to have more fire in it than than the drink in front of her. She downed the entire shot glass in a single motion, literally swallowing the flames without the slightest hint of discomfort. Twilight couldn’t do anything but stare at the entire display. As she gawked, the tavern erupted into cheers and applause, and the red-haired woman stood up from her chair and turned around, a smirk adorning her face as she took a short bow towards her onlookers. Meanwhile the silver-clad soldiers glared at her, their expression both familiar and disapproving, and Twilight noticed that their fingers were now barely brushing against the grips of their swords. The red-haired woman seemed to notice this, and responded by sticking out her tongue. The soldiers became visibly more tense, though they did not move from their position. Twilight’s stomach churned; she realized that a bar brawl was more of a possibility than she’d initially expected. Multiple scenarios played in her mind in which a fight had broken out into the tavern. In every single one of them, her disguise was broken, and she was forced to fend for herself against foes much more well-equipped for combat than she was. While she had no idea what kind of magic the silver-clad soldiers were capable of, her mind immediately went to what was simultaneously the most plausible and worst-case scenario. If they were truly the enforcers of the law as she assumed, they would no doubt be able to nullify magic with ease. Especially so if a discipline as exotic and dangerous as pyromancy was common enough to be used for bartending tricks. She was suddenly snapped back to reality when the bartender approached her and spoke to her, though Twilight was too preoccupied in her own imagination to notice what he had said. “Oh, sorry! I got distracted for a second there,” she said. “I’m uh... not from around here. Do you know where I could find a library? Nobody outside seems to want to talk to me.” The bartender looked taken aback, lips curling as he raised a single eyebrow. “Quedi?” Twilight’s eyes went wide. “Ack! Language barrier! I forgot about the language barrier!” She grabbed the side of her head, pulling at her illusory body’s hair. “Hold on, I can fix this!” Inhaling deeply, she focused inwards on her magic, and shaped it as it flowed outwards from her. Casting the spell alongside the illusion she was maintaining placed a heavy strain on her mind, but with unshakable resolve she pushed through regardless, until she felt the spell wash over her. Almost immediately, the background noise of the tavern changed; though the conversations were too drowned out in one another to make out, they way they registered in her perceptions was much clearer. Twilight let out a sigh and then looked directly at the bartender, who seemed more baffled than ever. “Can you understand me now?” “Er... I ‘fink so, yeah,” said the bartender, his speech strangely accented. “Not exactly sure what you were trying to say before. Last I checked, nobody in the neighborhood speaks ‘orse.” Twilight could almost feel her cheeks turning red. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I swear!” The bartender laughed. “‘Ey, relax! I’m just ‘aving a bit of a giggle, no hard feelings or anyfing. So, what’ll it be?” Twilight reflexively put her hoof behind her head, and her illusory body followed suit. “I, uh... I’m not here to drink, actually. I just... moved here, and need directions. Do you know where I could find a public library?” “A library, eh?” said the bartender. “Well, if you ain’t looking for anyfing secret, the Azorius have one not too far from ‘ere. Most of it’s guild members only, but there’s a public section last I ‘eard. Just ‘ead left on the street once you get out the door, take a right at the third intersection you see, and keep going straight. Eventually you’ll see a massive complex of archives, you should find the main library right in the center. Can’t miss it.” “Yes!” Twilight cheered. “Thank you! Thank you so much! This is everything that I’ve needed!” “No worries, miss,” the bartender replied. “Be careful out there, eh? The Tenf’s a busy place, you never know what you’ll run into.” “Don’t worry, I will!” With that Twilight waved goodbye, briskly walking away from the bar and out the front door. For the first time since she’d arrived on the plane, it seemed like things were working out okay. She was so happy that she didn’t even care when she tripped and fell flat on her face on the way out. ——————— Rarely, Twilight found, was it the case that someone who said ‘you can’t miss it’ when giving directions was actually referring to something she couldn’t miss. But in this particular case, what she was looking for really was impossible to miss. The path that she followed per the bartender’s directions led her down a road of increasingly pristine and elaborate buildings, until it terminated in a truly enormous circle surrounding a gargantuan fountain. Powerful jets of water sprayed forcefully from openings surrounding the basin, arcing in the air before landing in a crystal-clear pool. In the center of the basin was a pedestal, atop which rested a great marble sculpture of a sphinx, its wings spread wide and its eyes staring forward with unshakable resolve. But even more impressive than that were the buildings that surrounded it. Calling them ‘a massive complex of archives’ could not have possibly done justice to their description. The great limestone buildings were each elegantly crafted, with flying buttresses, great arches, clustered columns, and towering spires tipped with gold. The central building dwarfed them all, an enormous work of architecture that was nearly as large as Canterlot Castle itself. The primary entrance was a truly gargantuan set of wooden doors, one of which was perpetually held open by an unseen force, allowing people to enter and exit without interruption. Above the doors was a circular window of stained glass, depicting an unfamiliar symbol: a triangular shape with a circular pattern of mazelike runes in the center, all of which was colored in distinctive shades of blue. Aside from the buildings, Twilight noted that though there were dozens of people traveling across the campus at any given moment, most of them were human, and most of them were dressed similarly to one another. There were many of the silver-clad soldiers she had seen in the tavern before, but they were outnumbered by people who wore ornate white robes decorated with golden trim. Whether they were scholars or members of some other profession was unknown to her, but it was clear that they were all of considerably high social status. With bated breath, she walked past the enormous fountain and through the door to the central building, just as she had been told. What she saw nearly unhinged her jaw. Inside the building was easily the largest library she had seen in her life. Light from the central stained glass window illuminated massive shelves nearly a hundred feet tall, adorned with equally tall ladders attached to them on rails. Each shelf was lined with thousands upon thousands of books and scrolls, enough that Twilight could imagine spending centuries reading them and never reach the end. Massive wooden study tables lined the halls, with library patrons diligently reading through their chosen material. Golems made entirely from books and scrolls patrolled the building, organizing and replacing the books on the shelves, some with the items that made up their own bodies. Just beyond the front door was a large circular desk, behind which were nearly a dozen librarians attending to checkouts and returns of several lines of people. Even further behind them was a massive marble slab, nearly as tall as the bookshelves, with directory information engraved in an enormous, bold font. Twilight stood in place, her entire body numb as she stared at the scenery. She felt a silent shudder make its way up her spine, tears welling in her eyes from the nearly overwhelming sight. The only thing she could bring herself to speak was a single sentence, whispered in reverence. “It’s... it’s beautiful...” ——————— It wasn’t long before Ral found himself well within the boundaries of the Tenth District. Navigating the streets and passages there was almost reflexive to him, the layout of the district being as familiar as the back of his own hand. In a way it felt nostalgic, yet that nostalgia was tinged with bitterness. The Tenth was where he’d spent much of his youth, running from the Lyev and stealing whatever food he could to survive; if the Izzet hadn’t taken him in, he would have likely died on the inside of a jail cell. Yet despite the memories of the closest thing he had to a home, he got over being reassigned to another district very quickly. Or perhaps it was because of those memories. Regardless, sentimentality wouldn’t get him anywhere. He had a job to do, and quickly. Ral deftly made his way through the busy streets, a task made easier by pedestrians making an active effort to move out of his path. The garb of an Izzet guildmage was unmistakable, and few were brave enough to approach someone who could casually rip the laws of thermodynamics to shreds. The familiar route took him to a building advertised by a wooden sign with a frothy mug of ale painted on it. The bartender’s eyes lit up as Ral entered the tavern, and approached the countertop. “Well, if it ain’t Ral Zarek! It’s been a bloody long time since I’ve seen you around ‘ere! ‘Ow’ve you been?” In just three sentences, the goblin had managed to encapsulate his entire personality: mildly vulgar, yet unrelentingly cordial. It was no wonder he had become one of the closest things Ral had to a friend. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for the usual bar visit, Gnib,” Ral replied. “I’m here because I need information.” “Sounds like you’ve been awful busy these days,” said Gnib. “That draconic narcissist ain’t been working you too ‘ard lately, I ‘ope?” Ral’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “That depends entirely on what you mean. Either way, it’s not important right now. There’s a rare magical beast I’m pursuing, and I need to know if you’ve heard anything about it.” “Sure fing,” said Gnib. “Can you describe it for me?” “It looks like a pegasus, but it’s like no other pegasus you’ve seen,” said Ral. “It’s smaller, about the size of a pony, and has a rounded face, large eyes, and a single horn on its forehead. And its entire body is bright purple.” Gnib gave Ral a quizzical look. “Sounds pretty strange, but can’t say I’ve ‘eard of anyfing like that,” he said. “Although, now that you mention it... I fink I might have met someone who could ‘ave been related to that earlier.” Bingo. “What did you see?” said Ral. “There was this strange ‘uman girl who came in ‘ere a while ago,” said Gnib. “Wore these weird-looking clothes I ain’t never seen before, and ‘ad a bit of a wobble when she walked, like she ain’t used to being on two legs. Then, no joke, she came up and started whinnying at me! Almost felt like giving ‘er a bag of oats right then.” Ral’s fingers twitched slightly. It was worse than he thought: the extraplanar creature was not only sapient, it could disguise its appearance.  His muscles tensed, and he placed his palm on the table with an audible thud from the weight of his gauntlet. “And what did you do? I need you to tell me as much as possible.” “‘Ey, take it easy there,” said Gnib. “Don’t stress yourself out, you’ll live longer.” “Dammit Gnib, this is important!” Ral shot back. “My entire livelihood is at stake here!” “You wanna know that bad, eh?” said Gnib. “To be perfectly honest, there ain’t a whole lot else to say. When I asked her what she said, she cast some kind of spell, and then spoke to me in perfect Ravnican. She then asked me where the nearest library was, and I pointed ‘er to the Azorius archives. If my ‘unch is correct, that girl’s the same creature you’ve been after, probably using somefing to make ‘erself look like an ordinary person. Definitely knew more magic than a pegasus, that’s for certain.” It didn’t take long for Ral to piece together all of the information. The creature’s appearance not only showed extraplanar origin, it was capable of divination magic advanced enough to translate from a language that didn’t even resemble humanoid speech. It could disguise its appearance through some form of illusion, and was intelligent enough to seek out, and presumably understand, written information about Ravnica. He was no longer dealing with a beast of extraplanar origin. He was dealing with a planeswalker. And she was right in the middle of the largest Azorius building within twenty-five miles. “Thank you, Gnib,” Ral said curtly. “I need to leave. Right now.” “No worries, guv! Take care!” Ral could feel the electricity coursing through his spine as he rapidly walked out the door, pushing himself forward with renewed vigor. He was only just able to restrain himself enough to avoid running at a full sprint. ——————— Informant's Gossip 1RR Sorcery Search your library for a nonland card, exile it, then shuffle your library. You may cast that card this turn. Rumors are as valuable as they are fleeting.