By Yawgmoth Demon (Yawgmoth_Demon) on Tuesday, April 05, 2011 - 08:46 pm:

“Phyrexian Crusader”

At first, there was only darkness. Submerged in liquid warmth, the whispers filled my mind. They spoke to me of our purpose, our grand design. Before my fetal form had even taken shape, I knew I was destined for greatness. I had inherited the collective memories of our people, of our world.

As my senses began to develop, the blackness gave way to blurs of light and shadow. I could hear echoes of sounds that I could not yet distinguish. I then became conscious. My body still half formed, my senses were fully developed. I was submerged, not in a womb, but a transparent vat filled with glistening, golden oil.

Several tubes ran through my vestigial limbs and torso. A long hose ran down my throat and into my lungs, pumping them with oxygen. As I inspected my surroundings, I could see endless rows of similar vats, also containing fetal creatures like myself. “Newts”, that is what the whispers called us. We were grown, cloned from humans stock.

However, unlike humans, we have no need for sexual organs. We grow our populations, and engineer our own evolutions. Walking among the fields of vats were several tall, emaciated, robed figures. “Birth Priests”, the whispers had told me. They would serve as our caretakers and instructors.


The birth priests were but a slight upgrade from our adult forms. They were little more than living skeletons. Their skin had been stripped away and replaced with tough leather. Their hands were replaced with long, metal hooks. They performed their duties tirelessly, with the hopes that their masters reward them with further enhancements.

As they paced through the rows of vats, the birth priests scratched notes into sheets of oily metal. They marked the progress of our development. As with any system, there is always the chance of error. Some newts perish before our consciousness develops, and their flesh and bones are used in the creation of often powerful, albeit mindless, experiments. Others sometimes developed minds, but failed to develop functional bodies.

In this case, their life support systems were converted into cockpits. Although they would never be able to evolve themselves, they could still serve the cause by piloting our war machines. These would then become their bodies, and be directed by mental commands. Those that survive the growth period emerge resembling fully grown, genderless, humans. When my growth was complete, my appearance was well muscled and masculine, though I longed to shed my filthy flesh.

I and a dozen other newts were assigned to the birth priest, Threx. Each of us was then named, I was designated Xi’si’th. We were then assigned to serve Praetor Urabrask. Urabrask is one of the five Praetors who oversee our world. They answer only to our God, The Father of Machines.

I have never seen Urabrask myself, though I hear he resembles a great, mechanical dragon. Some say he was a naturally born dragon who forged a new body in search of even greater power. Now, he presides over the great furnaces and factories near the heart of our world. Under Threx’s orders, we toiled away manning the steam pumps, compressors, and smelting vats. We worked 16 hours each day, dressed in rags, fed on burnt scraps of flesh, and scalding water.

Our eyes were nearly blinded by the constant, sparking machines. Our flesh was blistered by the hellish flames, and calloused by our constant labor. The factories were our homes, and we slept on the stone floors of the supply houses. Although deafening at first, the constant grinding of gears and pounding metal became ordinary background noise. Like any creatures, we did our best to adapt and survive.

All of our efforts were dedicated to bringing our world to those who resided on the surface. There, lived natural born races whose frail bodies were plagued with disease, aging, and death. Their primitive cultures prevented them from evolving beyond such things, as we have. Thus, it was our duty to enlighten them. However, in their fear and ignorance, they repay our good will with violent resistance.

We do not hate them for this, for it is through constant struggle that we improve our designs. Still, we know that we must slay and then rebuild them, for their own good. I strived to please my masters, so that I might one day be rebuilt into one of our noble crusaders. Some of the others, however, weren’t quite as motivated. Those who failed to meet Threx’s demands disappeared as we slept.

They were to be reprocessed, where they would hopefully better serve the cause in another life. I did not mourn their deaths; it was merely a case of survival of the fittest. I continued to serve faithfully for many long months. Soon, I was one of the last of my original group. Whenever I felt too exhausted to continue, my dream carried me through.

In order to relieve the drudgery, I began estimating which of my fellow newts would be next to be taken. I trained myself to briefly awaken every minute for about a second, long enough to scan my surroundings and then slip back to sleep at will. Threx would surely have punished me had he seen that I was not maximizing my rest periods. However, I was able to elude his attention. Every now and then, I would manage to catch him as he came in.

Usually, he would drag one or two of them off and immediately depart. However, one night, he entered with a second birth priest. My curiosity piqued, I feigned sleep and watched them. “And what of Xi’si’th?” the other priest asked him in a hollow, raspy voice. Despite the heat of the room, I could feel my oil blood chilling in my veins.

Had they come to take me? I thought with dread. I had worked too hard, for too long. There was no way I would let them. My muscles tensing, I waited for the chance to strike. If I, a newt, could defeat Threx, then perhaps that would impress my masters enough to spare my life.

Our society was shaped around the idea of survival of the fittest. As such, violent coups were common in the higher ranks. It was believed that only the strongest, most highly evolved, should lead us. Such actions were not considered criminal, but rather worthy of praise. Perhaps, through this, I would at last come to realize my dream.

The two skeletal priests continued to walk closer to me. “His productivity surpasses that of all his peers.” Threx replies in an equally hollow, raspy voice. “Then perhaps we should consider an elevation of status?” The other suggests. “No.” Threx responds, shaking his hook-hand disapprovingly. “Without him, our output would be below Urabrask’s standard.”
“He was the one exception in an otherwise defective batch. Should that failure ever be discovered, we would be made to suffer for it.

We must work him until the next generation is fully grown.” “Fool!” the other hisses angrily “You know as well as I do that his body will give out before then. No newt could maintain that level of strain.”I could not believe what I was hearing! I was being denied my dream to cover up their failure? I was stronger than they knew, and in our world the strong conquer the weak.

While they were distracted with their argument, I slowly reached for a metal pole that lay nearby. The tip was sharpened, meant for the spines of some war beast no doubt. The two were nearly upon me, still caught up in their debate. The time to act was now! Quickly I rise to my feet, grasping the pole like a spear. I plunge it deep into Threx’s hollow, glowing eye socket, piercing the preserved brain within. The slain birth priest collapses to the floor.

The other hisses furiously and slashes at my throat with his hooked hands. I bring up the pole horizontally to parry, but he leans over, and begins to overpower me. Just then a female looking newt awakens from her sleep. Her name was X’rric, and I was sure that the birth priests had come for her. She had shown far too much attachment to one of the other newts, and wept when he was taken away.

In our world, there was no place for love. Seeing her chance at revenge, she grabs another pole and screaming like a raging animal, imbeds it deep in the priest’s hollow ribcage. The priest is surprised, allowing me to break away and slip out from under him. Before he could raise his hooked hands to attack again, I move behind him and bury the pole in the back of his head. The priest’s body slumps forward to lay beside Threx’s, glistening oil pooling at our feet.

Still gripping my improvised weapon tightly, I stare into their empty eyes. It was the first time I had actually taken a life. I could feel the oil pumping faster through my veins. Never before had I felt so invigorated. Soon, I thought, I would be a crusader cleaving through waves of inferior life forms. I could hear by blades tearing through their muscles, their heads crushed beneath my biomechanical legs.

Then, the sound of her voice draws me back to reality. “We did it, together” she says with a smile. We stare at each other a while, both breathing heavily from exertion. She then drops her spear to the ground and begins to approach me.

“Let’s get out of here while we still can” she begs me. “We can finally be free!” She cries, reaching out to tenderly embrace me. She stops, suddenly, and gasps as my spear pierces her stomach and emerges through her back. She coughs as glistening oil trickles out the sides of her mouth. Her eyes, filled with disbelief lock with mine.

My eyes, those of a future crusader turn away in disgust as I twist free the spear. As her dying body slumps to the floor I leave without a word. There is no place for love in our world. Soon all weakness will be purged from me. So too shall I purge this world.

By Ghaleon (Xanatos_Yfel) on Wednesday, April 06, 2011 - 01:07 pm:

Wow this is long. I stopped at like 4 paragraphs :P
Maybe I'll come back later. I like the perspective

By Wicked Darkman (Wickeddarkman) on Thursday, April 07, 2011 - 09:15 pm:

Pretty awesome!

Nice ending

By Yawgmoth Demon (Yawgmoth_Demon) on Thursday, April 07, 2011 - 11:47 pm:

I actually submitted this for a fiction writing class at my college. Nobody in the class knows anything about Magic so I excluded references to Mirrodin, Phyrexia, or Phyresis, which would normally be there. I hope it disturbs them.

By The-Necromancer (Vilerequiem) on Wednesday, April 13, 2011 - 01:22 am:

Wonderful! Wonderful!!!

By MORT (Ashtok) on Wednesday, April 13, 2011 - 02:02 am:

I liked it. Though there is one problem within canon here. The newts do not look like humans. Human newts were only bred for some time on the old Phyrexia, when they needed to implant the sleeper agents on Dominaria.

By Yawgmoth Demon (Yawgmoth_Demon) on Wednesday, April 13, 2011 - 02:44 pm:

From what I have read about the germs, it says they are newts who are not fully developed. I included the germs in my story. Is there any reference to how new newts look?

By the way, I do plan on expanding this story from its current 7 pages or so into about 30.

By Wicked Darkman (Wickeddarkman) on Wednesday, April 13, 2011 - 09:17 pm:

INEFFABLE DEMON:

You could let the "hero" meet each of the praetors going through each of the newer phyrexian philosophies, though you will have to wait a little to get their destinct flavor. Then let him end up facing some original phyrexians!

By Yawgmoth Demon (Yawgmoth_Demon) on Saturday, April 16, 2011 - 11:16 am:

I'm thinking he's going to be partially compleated next and sent into battle. However, he'll find out that the war against the Mirrans is over. Instead, he'll be sent into battle against Azax-Azog's forces. Since I see this character as more black aligned, this will probably be how he leaves Urabrask. He'll be seperated from his forces somehow and left to wander the Mephidross.

By Yawgmoth Demon (Yawgmoth_Demon) on Wednesday, April 20, 2011 - 10:02 am:

Threx is a Phyrexian in the blue faction mentioned in Wizard's most recent article. Go figure. I guess I'm good at naming Phyrexians.

By Wicked Darkman (Wickeddarkman) on Tuesday, April 26, 2011 - 09:17 pm:

INEFFABLE DEMON:

Or they read your story

Some of the authors of magic-novels have been seen in here!

By Yawgmoth Demon (Yawgmoth_Demon) on Saturday, May 14, 2011 - 09:27 pm:

Really? That would be pretty cool.

I'm currently expanding this story into 30 pages, changing some details, and continuing it from where this left off.