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his lips. Not a dragon. Ramos was a dragon engine. Dim
memories of Multani's sketchbooks stirred. Dragon engines were
the mightiest artifacts in the age of the Brothers' War. Armed
with them, Urza and Mishra fought until the land of Terisiare
sank beneath them. Ramos had been one of those engines,
redesigned by Urza not to kill, but to save....
Gerrard found himself bowing before the great beast. Sisay
and the others followed suit.
Meanwhile, Ramos had risen to his full height-a hundred
feet tall. He bent his head backward. Metal plates of armor
gleamed. Oil streamed. His jaws opened.
Sisay winced, fearing a gout of flame.
Instead, Ramos only spoke. His voice was ancient. His
words were barely recognizable-an accent that must have been
common on Dominaria when Urza and Mishra walked the land.
"Gerrard of Weatherlight-you have come to pillage a temple, to
pillage a grave."
Lifting his head, Gerrard replied, "No, great Ramos. We
have come to fulfill a prophecy."
A huge sound answered that, the ominous rumble of metal on
metal. It was a fearful racket, though it could have been
nothing but a laugh. "You forget, Gerrard of Weatherlight,
that those prophecies are fictions about me. I am Ramos, whom
you have come to raise. But I cannot rise, or I would have
already. Your ship's arrival in this world-through the very
portal I took from Phyrexia, now moved to Rath-only
coincidentally resembles my own arrival. Both of us crashed
upon this world. Neither will rise again."
Gerrard felt his insides sinking. Ramos knew everything.
The dryad chief had conveyed it all to him. Ramos saw the
masquerade and the truth that lay beneath it. Why ever would
he allow Gerrard to take the sacred stones that had calved
from his own power core?
"You are Ramos, yes," Gerrard replied, "but perhaps
Weatherlight truly is the Uniter. Perhaps the prophecies are
not mere whimsy."
"You do not believe in prophecies, Gerrard of
Weatherlight," Ramos scolded. His voice had the timbre of
shivering metal.
"No, I don't," Gerrard allowed. His eyes remained riveted
to the dragon engine's. "But I do believe in hope. That's
where these prophecies came from. Hope. The people who believe
these stories remember how you brought their ancestors here.
They remember that horrible day so long ago. They remember the
death and destruction, but they have transformed horror into
hope. They remember Ramos, yes, but they hope for the Uniter.
No, these aren't prophecies, foretelling what was destined to
happen. These are only hopes, wishes for what must happen."
Ramos's metallic eyes peered deeply, sharply into
Gerrard's soul, but the dragon engine did not speak.
Gerrard continued. "You built this place as a memorial to
the dead, but what about the living? You long to heal the hurt
that you brought to this world, and here's your chance to do
it. You've mourned the hundreds of thousands you killed, but
mourning is not enough. What about the hundreds of thousands
even now who suffer? The Bones of Ramos are only selfish
relics lying here. Within Weatherlight, though, they can raise
the Uniter. They can bring the world together. They can save
those who are doomed."
Gerrard had never spoken with such passion in his life,
and the tone of his own voice suddenly struck him as
ludicrous. He began to laugh. At first, he only snickered, but
attempts to stanch the giggles only made them worse. Soon, he
guffawed, slapping his leg.
Ramos glowered at him. "What do you find funny about all
this?"
Gerrard smiled through his laughter. "It's just that...
it's just that I used to be like you, Ramos. People decided I
was a Uniter. People said I had a Legacy, I had a mission to
fulfill. They told me I was supposed to save the world. For a
long time I dragged my heels. How does one man save the world?
But then I gave up fighting. It was too hard to fight destiny.
It was only just now, as I heard my own voice talking to you-
it was just this moment when I realized my destiny had caught
up with me. Without even knowing it, I'd become everything
everybody said I was supposed to be." His explanation ended in
a belly laugh.
A great shiver moved through the dragon engine. He seemed
to slump in resignation. "You are right to laugh, Gerrard of
Weatherlight. All of this is absurd. You have come here
because of a myth that misremembers me and makes you something
you are not. You came seeking these five simple stones, broken
millennia ago from my power core. They cannot save you. They
have power only because they lie here beside me, in the midst
of my forest. Beyond the crater, they will be nothing." Ramos
gestured dismissively. "I understand hope and know it does not
die easily. You will not give up until you see for yourself. I
will allow you to take these stones as far as the dryads'
grove. There, you will see what I say. They will darken beyond [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]