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  • Writer's pictureAvacyn Believer

I Am Avacyn. I Am Free.

Updated: Mar 30

(from "I Am Avacyn" Magic Story)

I cannot see his face now, because he turns away from me. I cannot see whether he is monster or man. I can only see the point of that sword. I can only hear ancient words, words of a ritual performed in reverse, words of a gift being revoked. I can only feel my knees dropping onto the unyielding limit of the Cathedral floor. I can only smell the ash of some nearby smoldering. I can only touch the shadow on the floor under me, the shape that marks my first moment.

I can only say to you, in this, my final prayer to the world, that I only ever meant to keep the innocent from harm.

I am Avacyn. I am to protect.


(point of divergence)

No… a single word, barely a whisper as it rang in my mind like a distant bell of a cathedral. The seconds of my unmaking stretching into eternity. The word strikes again, steadily increasing in rhythm and becoming louder and louder until it becomes a cacophony of countless prayers, past and future alike. The gravity of the innocent pleas for help burn within my core brighter than the fires of unmaking.

No. My time is not over.

I rise from my knees in defiance to the fate chosen for me by a monster of pure evil. “No.” I give voice to the power I draw from the faithful.

Impossible.” Sorin Markov, the self-proclaimed villainous Lord of Innistrad turns his head to face me and I can see the shock on his face.

“No longer shall the innocent cover in the dark, afraid of the monsters like you.” I continue to approach the vampiric devil, feeling my holy power being restored and the flames that were consuming me to dissipate.

I grab the wrist of the hand that is holding the sword still pointing at me. He tries to tear it away but fails. His eyes betray the realisation that he lost his control over me. I strike with righteous fury, plunging his own sword through his chest.

This time his wounds do not heal. His expression is a mixture of confusion, panic and fear. For the first time in thousands of years he is experiencing what it is to be mortal again. All his power unable to save him.

“You are responsible for countless deaths of innocent lives, a selfish monster and your reign of terror is over.” I feel no sympathy for the dying tyrant.

As his corpse falls to my feet I feel justice. I have fulfilled my mission to protect Innistrad.

I am Avacyn. I am free.


"What have you done?" Jace demanded after he rushed down a staircase with Tamiyo in tow, only too late realising that it wasn’t Sorin who was victorious.

Avacyn towered above the vampire’s corpse, her wings fully unfolded and all her wounds seemingly healed by the power restored within her. The planeswalkers could both sense it, the Archangel was no longer shackled and her divine power was unrestrained. They struggled to battle Avacyn before, and now they were no match for her.

Jace fell silent, struggling to comprehend that Sorin was defeated by his own creation. When Avacyn turned her head to face him, his analytical wit returned and he did the only logical thing he could do. He planeswalked away from Innistrad, leaving behind only a brief complex crisscross pattern of blue lights.

“Fiend…” Before Avacyn could even utter a second word Tamiyo came to the same conclusion as Jace. This was no place for a scholar and whatever secrets Innistrad had left, they were not worth her life.

Avacyn gazed into the vacant space where the two planeswalkers stood just a moment ago. Then her attention was drawn skywards by a thundering sound that shook the Thraben Cathedral.

Innistrad was saved from its tyrannical Lord but now something far older than a vampire was threatening the plane. Avacyn flexed her wings and flew up through the broken floor.

To be continued.

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