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attack!"
* * * * *
Gerrard had done it, again. Gerrard had killed him again.
Volrath knew he should die this time. It would be cowardly not
to. He was utterly defeated. To live on now would be to live
on as a worm. That would be a miserable life.
It would be a life, though-a life Volrath could endure.
Even as the prow of his battleship plunged in smoky ruin,
Volrath clawed his way into his personal quarters. All was in
disarray, tumbling loose in a deadly hail-but not the portal
mechanism. It was fastened to the wall, behind a locked hatch.
Despite the chaos all around, despite the plunging death
below and the utter defeat above, Volrath calmly worked the
lock and opened the hatch.
Afraid to face me ... coward ...
They were no longer his brothers' words. Now they were
Volrath's own.
He stepped into the portal device. That single simple
movement took him out of death, out of Mercadia. He returned,
a whipped dog, to his throne on Rath.
* * * * *
Orim had watched the two ships climb into the sun. Gerrard
and Volrath ... Urza and Mishra ... Ramos and Orhop-all were
overlaid in her mind as the vessels disappeared in the radiant
sun.
The Separi story had told it all-two brothers battling
each other, tearing down hunks of the sky to slay each
other.... But that story had ended in devastation and death.
How would this one end?
Cho-Manno pointed to a tiny meteor that streamed smoke as
it tumbled down across the eastern sky. It was too small to
have been even one of the ships, let alone both. "What is it?
Do you suppose your friends-?"
"No," Orim said with a finality she did not feel. She
struggled to see some sign of Weatherlight against the beaming
sun. "No, it can't be."
All this while Orim had resented the intrusion of Gerrard
and the crew in her new life. Now, faced with the possibility
they were gone, she was staggered. As much as she loved Cho-
Manno, as much as the Cho-Arrim had changed her life, her life
still lay aboard Weatherlight.
"I don't know what that smoking thing is, but it's not
them." She watched the spinning wreckage impact on the distant
plains and then peered back toward the sun, where the warring
gods had disappeared. "It wasn't them."
"What is that?" Cho-Manno wondered, pointing out another
form behind them. It was much larger than the smoking wreck,
and it approached from the west. "A ship ?"
"That's them," Orim said hopefully even before she caught
sight of the object. As soon as she saw it-metallic wings of
gold shimmering with each vast stroke-she knew the thing was
not Weatherlight. "No ... that's not them. It must be another
... another Phyrexian ship...."
It was huge, and it grew larger every moment. Its metal
frame was undeniable, its power and speed inescapable. Even
from this distance, its Phyrexian design shone clear. Where
was Weatherlight? What defense could the city have except
Weatherlight? Everything the rebels had accomplished today
would be undone by that singular ship.
Except that it wasn't a ship-too lithe, too living. The
thing flew with surges of its metal wings. Before it, a
slender neck coiled, and behind it, a lashing tail.
"A dragon engine!" Orim said, astonished.
Cho-Manno stared up in wonder. A smile spread beautifully
across his face. "The metallic serpent! Ramos and Orhop fought
once again in the sky, though this time, they were united into
this creature-into the Uniter! For eons, this metal serpent
has filled the dreams of my people!"
Orim stared upward, nodding absently.
It could not have been true. Gerrard and Volrath could
never have been united, just as Dominaria and Phyrexia could
never become a whole. One would destroy the other. For these
people, though, it was true. For them, the evil unleashed by
Urza and Mishra was at last ended.-Ramos and
Orhop had been reconciled, and the dragon engine-the
Uniter-was the symbol of that reunion. Evil had been driven
out and the people of Mercadia brought together. It was all
true. Cho-Manno's myth had no fact but all truth.
"Yes, Cho-Manno. The Uniter has come," Orim said in joy.
The enormous, beautiful, ancient dragon engine circled the
city once, looking for a place to land. It spread its wings
and settled lightly in the garden beside the tower. It folded
metal mesh and stared down. Before it bowed Saprazzan merfolk,
Rishadan pirates, Cho-Arrim warriors ...
In a voice as ancient as the races, in a dialect as old as
Urza and Mishra, the dragon engine spoke, "Children of Ramos,
your protector has returned."
* * * * *
Two days hence, Gerrard and Orim stood on the distant
plains and gazed up at the looming mountain.
Once Gerrard had realized it was the dragon engine, Ramos,
below and not another Phyrexian ship, he had called off the
diving attack. Instead, Weatherlight had risen high into the
sky to slip away unnoticed. Better that the folk of Mercadia
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