"02 - Planeswalker" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)

been reduced to curses: By Urza's whim and Mishra's might,

may you rot forever beneath the forests of sunken Argoth.

Rumors said that Urza had caused the cataclysm when he

used Lat Nam sorcery to fuel his final, most destructive,

artifact. Others said that the cataclysm was Mishra's curse

as he died with Urza's hands clasped around his throat. A

few insisted that Urza had survived his crimes. Within a

year of the cataclysm, all the rumors had merged in an

increasingly common curse: If I met Urza on the road, I'd

cripple him with my own two hands, as he and his brother

crippled us, then I'd leave him for the rats and vultures

as he left Mishra.

Urza had survived. He'd heard the curse in its infinite

variations. After nearly five years in self-chosen exile,

the erstwhile Lord Protector of the Realm had spent another

year walking amongst the folk of blasted Terisiare: the

dregs of Yotia, the survivors of Argive, the tattered, the

famished, the lame, the disheartened. No one had recognized

him. Few had known him, even in the glory days. Urza had

never been one to harangue his troops with rhetoric. He'd

been an inventor, a scholar, an artificer such as the world

had not seen since the Thran, and all he'd ever wanted was

to study in peace. He'd had that peace once, near the

beginning, and lost it, as he'd lost everything, to the

man-the abomination-his brother had become.