Appearence




Backstory




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The jakkardian desert would probably have been the last place on the multiverse where a penguin would show up. Yet, there she was, arriving in the middle of the hot midday Sun. The planeswalker had come already several times to this plane, first by accident, but latter she had grown attached to the inhospitable wastelands, attracted to their very own desolation. The magical droughts caused an interesting pattern in the world's animistic side, a perpetual state of absence and yet promise. Maramawhā couldn't describe it in words if asked; the best she could respond with would be like a dry river bed, so devoid of water, yet still aquatic in it's essence.


And following a dry river bed she was. The Hoiho had come prepared for the hostile environment, her feathers coated by an aquiferous essence that kept her refreshed and protected from the harsh sunlight. This essence also had another purpose, as Maramawhā could feel the watery essence in the dry wind. This was an island: even though it looked barely different from the sorrounding desert, the escavated river was still sculptured, was still refined, changed and charged by mana, even if temporarily.


"The water is gone forever, yet you still go on, you still change this land and make it beautiful. Never forsake your task, my friend, never give up. There is still so much to be perfected."


She felt the air cooler and her aquiferous coat recharged, as if the vacant river had blessed her. The Hoiho bowed in respect, and thought of a distant stream in Ravnica, charging this riverbed with more mana. She then followed the "course" of the riverbed, walking in the direction of the very distant mouth. She had never been in this river before, but she knew it would end up in her desired destination, feeling her goalpost's location. It would take at least a few hours to get there, but she didn't hurry her pace, simply walking at the pace of the mana currents. She took her sweet time to observe the erosion of the riverbed, the mana-infused winds roling chunks of rock with the same force as water, pebbles saltitating all around Maramawhā, clouds of sediments passing by above her, either being removed from cliff-like steeper "shores" or deposited in sandbanks, some of which rather massive. Every once in a while, Maramawhā found small plants growing in the bed, flowing as if pushed by river water, instead of the soft movements of wind blown plants.


After a while, she came across an abandoned, broken carriage, crates laying around all around and inside it, most of them opened either by force or by the decay of the wood. Out of one of the crates came a white, myst like substance, gradually shaping itself to the form of a foxfolk, followed by others from the carriage and a nearby rock, shaping themselves into humans. The former was a young - Maramawhā guessed that he was around 17 years of age -, well dressed figure, whom the Hoiho judged to be an aristocrat or otherwise important person, his fine coat and hat nonetheless ripped and damaged, while his throat was an empty void, the neck vertebrae fully exposed, while the rest of his body beared many dagger wounds. The latter figures seem to be clearly lower ranking and older, one of them a maiden of some sort, with a simple yet refined silky dress, while the other was clearly a mercenary, wearing dark leathers. The maiden had her arm broken and twisted and a deep cut in her abdomen, while the mercenary had lost his lower jaw and leg. All of them looked at Maramawhā with depressed, distressed eyes, with the foxfolk looking the most amicable and the mercenary the most hateful. None of them dared to move, however.


"What has happened here?" asked the Aven.


The ghosts looked at down in shame, until the maiden stepped forward. She coughed and gagged, as if finding effort to speak, but speaking she did, in a voice akin to sand being eroded.


"My friend Duarte Juliano got us into this when his parents found about his love affair with his boyfriend. They decided to destroy him, so obviously he had to 'scape. This all coincided with a shipment of gemstones that would be enough to provide for us all for many years. So me and my brother stole the cargo, and we three departed to go to Ennis' estate. We got as far as this riverbed when we were attacked by bandits. We fought them off, but as it turned out they were sent by Duarte's parents, and angels came in. We didn't stood a chance, and they killed us and stole our cargo back. We've been hauntin' this place for an year, and we just want to leave."


This seemingly exhausted her, who retreated quickly back to the carriage, seemingly breathing deeply. The foxfolk then moved forward, and tried to speak, seemingly painfully both "physically" and emotionally.


"P-plea-please, we just want t-to go home! Fr-free us...."


Maramawhā sat on the riverbed, her legs crossed. She looked pensive, and the ghosts noticed a deep sadness and frustration within her. Above all, they felt uncertainty and confusion, which made Duarte all the more sorrowful and he mercenary more angry.


"If I'm to help you, I need that you answer a question of mine."


The maiden and Duarte nodded, while the mercenary just scoffed in an arrogant, yet inherently depressing way. The Hoiho sighed, and breathed in deeply.


"What do you mean by "home"?"


"Pfft, we are wastin' our time" said the mercenary, surprisingly easily considering how the other ghosts had trouble speaking.


The maiden scolded her brother, staring at him like throwing daggers, while Duarte looked somewhat panicked. Maramawhā however persevered, a mental picture of the truth behind this already forming within her mind.


"If you truly want to be free, you will each answer this. I'll start with you, Duarte Juliano, since you're the instigator. What do you mean by "home"?"


"W-well, h-home is l-like, I d-don't know, but it's not where I was. It's not! Home shouldn't be where I felt miserable and dead inside, even if I once had happy memories from there. And it's certainly not here either."


"Then, did you ever have a place to call home?"


"I-I don't know, and I don't think I ever had one, but I was going to, I know I was going to build my own home, with the man I love."


"So you've never experienced having a "home"?"


"W-well, I guess once, when I thought my parents loved me."


"Very well."


Maramawhā rose, and channeled mana from her destination, still vivid in her mind. She could only afford her breath's moisture, but it was enough: Duarte was free from his bondage to the carriage.


"Th-thank you!" he chirped happily, his throat and wounds fixed on his metaphysical body, radiating an aura of felicity that made Maramawhā cheer silently in return.


"Just stay here until I'm done with your friends, so you may learn the truth."


Duarte was confused, but did so anyways, not leaving his station. The Aven turned next to the maiden.


"I regretably still don't know your name."


"Anna Weissmer, my lady. My brother's name is John."


"Anna, what do you call "home"?"


"I guess home is where I belong, my lady. I belong with my family, which is why I take care of my brother, no matter where he goes. I know Duarte did not belong with his evil parents, so I don't blame him for leavin', but I do believe that he would have belonged with Ennis, and he would have a real family and thus a real home. I guess home is tied to where yer loved ones are, most of the time."


Maramawhā repeated the gestures, and Anna was free. The penguin felt somewhat dry, but she supposed she still had enough water left for a final spell.


"And you John, what do you call "home"?"


John regarded Maramawhā with an odious gaze, the eyebrows nonetheless expressing the same state as in a cruel smirk, as if he had nefarious plans for her. The planeswalker would be lying if she said she wasn't intimidated and unnerved. The ghost walked slowly towards her, closing their distance at an alarming speed. Still, the Aven kept her composture as best as she could, even as he was a mere meter from her face.


"Ya seem ta enjoy wastin' my time, abomination. What are ya anyway, a mutant auk or somethin'?"


"J-John, you're w-wasting everyone's ti-"


"Shut up, ****! I'm dead and cursed because of ya, and I know I'll always be remembered as a buttbuddy of yours if I'm remembered at all!"


"John! What the darnation has gotten into ya!?" shouted Anna, now without inhibittions from her curse.


"You know, you can set that right if you answer my question and free yourself..."


This seemed to have triggered John, who seemed to have become very angry.


"Shut the **** up! Shut the **** up all of ya! It's not my fault ye're all retarded beyond belief, it's not my frickin' fault!!!!"


His aura grew darker, as if an inky substance had been added to the spiritual energy, his hands transforming into claws and his vacant lower jaw being replaced by a swirling Helicoprion maw filled with shark-like teeth. His eyes flared in bright red, filled with a dichotomous mixture of utter hatred and cacodaemonic glee, giggling maniacally. He lunged at Maramawhā herself, but Anna stood in between and carried the Aven to a safer place just a couple meters away from the debris.


"Ye're okay?" the spirit girl asked.


"Yes, I'm fine. I'm not sure about your brother, however."


Anna nodded, and turned at John.


"Why, Johnny? Why do ya hate others like this? Ma and Da died, but I took care of ya! Duarte stood up for ya! Why are you so ungrateful!?"


John simply giggled some more, though a hint of sadness did appear on his features. He reverted to his wounded "normal" form, and walked away.


"Told ya I was wastin' my time!"


He dissolved in the carriage's remains, returning to his silent haunting. Anna and Duarte glanced at each other with uncertainty and sadness, and pleaded one last time with Maramawhā. The Aven sighed and shook her head.


"He didn't answer, I can't help him. Sorry."


"It's alright" said Anna, "he doesn't need me no more."


"Y-you seemed to h-have been walking somewhere. D-do you mind if we come as well?"


"Sure, I think you need to go there as much as I do."


"Where are we going?" asked Anna.


"To a saguaro grove. The oldest in Jakkard, in fact."


***

They walked for several more hours. Anna and Duarte had been rather shy at first, which the Hoiho quite apreciated, but gradually began to showcase their curiousity about her.


"S-so, w-what are you? I-I don't m-mean to offend, b-but there's n-not a lot of people l-like you around here."


"Indeed. That's because I'm a planeswalker."


"A what?" asked Anna.


"It's complicated, but suffice to say that there are many realms of existence. I'm not from around here."


Duarte nodded. Although she couldn't read minds, Maramawhā took a wild guess and figured that his parents could probably have told him about something of the sort.


"How did ya get in here?"


"Some people are born with sparks in their souls, which ignite under extreme occasions, and allow them to travel between worlds. I've met a few planeswalkers that were born in Jakkard."


"H-how did i-ignite your spark?"


Maramawhā sighed.


"I communed with a tree, and that's about it. I didn't leave my plane for a long time, though. I, I really don't like to talk about that."


Just then, they came across a cavern, a "sinkhole" in the riverbed. At the entrance was a snakefolk, clearly emancipated beyond unhealthy levels, barely moving beyond hissing. Anna moved near her, touching her skin. Before she could protest, a green light emanated from the ghost's hands, and some life was breathed into the reptile, who look somewhat more healthy.


"Are you lost?" asked Maramawhā with concern.


"No, thisss isss my home. I've been sssent by my tribe to guard thisss place for many yearsss now."


"So, your home was a place yer elders decided for ya? That doesn't seem like a home" said Anna.


"Home isss our family. My family trusssted me to guard thisss sssacred location. Therefore, I'm in my home jussst by doing my duty. I would gladly die if that meant my duty isss being ssserved."


The snakewoman then looked at Maramawhā's eyes. She seemed simoultaneously angry at the planeswalker, yet very sympathetic.


"I jussst hope you know where your home isss, and do not fail your duty."


"Noted. Thank you for your advice" the Aven bowed honestly.


The snakefolk nodded, and the trio continued their path. The river "ended" there - the sinkhole was the entrance to it's subterranean course, it's "mouth" miles down there -, so Maramawhā had to climb her way out of the river bed, up the mountain slope-like shores. The area they were in was basically a lake, a large valley with the sinkhole in it's westernmost end, where mana pooled in a massive reservoir. As a last gift, the "river" helped her upwards, making her float her way up the slopes in wave like motions, as if she was being carried by actual waves. In just a few moments, she was on the "shore".


"Thank you" she said to the "river" one last time, charging it with foreign mana.


Before them there was a vast forest of saguaros and other cacti, some of which impossibly tall, perhaps more so than redwood trees.


"I've never seen cacti so huge" said Anna.


"Like I said, the oldest grove in Jakkard. Do you want to watch from the top?"


"Y-you can't be serious!"


The Hoiho smiled, and channeled the very mana of the saguaros. She felt the water within the cacti, and gently manipulated it as to bring down the gigantic saguaro, it's leaf-less green thorny branches descending like the tentacles of a hydra. Maramawhā climbed on to one of them, grabbing on to the thorns, and it slowly rose upwards, until she was on the hundred meter-tall canopy. Duarte and Anna flied upwards, and were in utter awe of the magnificence of the view. Maramawhā, however, had more important matters to attend to, so she bent more branches, forming a network in the canopy that allowed her to travel fast across the forest. Duarte and Anna tried to keep up with her, but the more they flew, the more the wonders of the forest distracted them.

***


Eventually, by sunset, Maramawhā reached her destination. Amidst the canopy of giant saguaros, Jakkard's last cypress stood, a titan even among the cacti trees. A giant platform of wood emerged from the trunk, a flat disc of unclear origins, which was acessible to the Hoiho by a single saguaro branch. The branch was almost thorn-less, so all Maramawhā had to do was basically slide down. Once in the platform, she quickly walked to the base of the disc in the tree trunk, where she sat with her legs crossed. Above her, in the tree trunk, a face began to form, that of an old snakefolk, who smiled warmly at the planeswalker.


"Took you long enough, my child."


"I'm disappointed. I thought you'd know me better than to assume I wouldn't stop by."


"Yes, you love these realms. Then why not call them by what I know you're thinking about?"


Maramawhā's good disposition died with the swallowing, but she kept her composture nonetheless.


"Tuk, I don't have a home. Even if I wasn't a planeswalker, I couldn't... I can't have a home. I'm a wanderer, I can't settle down."


"And you won't settle down, but that doesn't mean you don't have a home. Even nomads have places who adopt them as their children, and nomads certainly have people who care for them. Maramawhā, Jakkard welcomes you even more than it's native planeswalkers, and you have people who love you in many other planes. You don't have just one home, Maramawhā, you were fortunate to have built many."


"I, I don't know what to say, Father Tuk."


"How about telling me what troubles you?"


Maramawhā breathed in deeply. It was going to be difficult to retain her composture.


"I feel like my birthplane is calling to me, Tuk. I've learned the hard way that I can't return there, and I've been straying clear of Matahouroa. But my heart, my heart tells me I should go there, and it pains me. I've seen so much, I've met so many people in the multiverse, I've found such wonders and peace and loves, so I've tried to not make Matahouroa important. But I can't sleep anymore without knowing that I have to go there, and it just breaks me to see everything I've built crumble because one my own shadow!"


"But child, nothing is crumbling. Like I said, you have many homes. Matahouroa is but one of them. And if you feel like it's calling to you, then of course you should go! I see dark times are near, and Matahouroa needs you. It's your birthplane, the foundations of everything you built, and it will be harmful to you if you let it fall. You have many homes, Maramawhā, and that means responsibility for all of them."


"Yes, yes you are right Tuk. I have a responsibility to Matahouroa, and I'm being a fool for not only ignoring it, but being childish and thinking about playing favourites. Thank you for enlightening me."


"You're welcome, my child. Your journey is indeed neverending, and I will be here to aid every single step you take."


The Hoiho rose and bowed before the cypress, and began to channel the plane's mana, until tree vines patted her in the shoulder.


"What, you're not going to leave without at least a hug?"


Maramawhā laughed openly for the first time in weeks, and hugged Tuk. Duarte and Anna arrived, and, understanding the situation at hand, hugged the planeswalker.


"Good luck, Maramawhā" said the cypress, the foxfolk and the maiden, before she departed from their world.