The Moons of Mirrodin

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Memnarch stood in the guard house and watched Karn and Jeska leave. It was a strange phenomenon. One moment they were there and the next moment they were gone. It was as if the world had folded over and passed them by in an instant. In that instant, Memnarch was alone. A metal man alone in a metal world, a cold and sterile world.

Memnarch looked around at Argentum, Karn’s world. It was beautiful. It was perfect, like an equation that had been solved to the very last decimal place. But the mathematician had moved on to a new problem, leaving Memnarch to tend the theorems and keep all the formulas in place.

“Now I am the Warden,” said Memnarch as he walked from the guardhouse and surveyed the palace grounds. “Let’s see what this world has to offer.”

The metal man was awed by the size and intricacy of the palace. Each wall, each window, each buttress was but a single facet in a convoluted pattern or complex equation. Minarets extended at impossible angles, walls curved around one another, connecting top to bottom, and many of the buttresses indeed seemed to be flying. Silver walls and translucent windows met in a space that seemed to extend to infinity. It was a marvel of complicated algorithms and fractal mathematics, a wonder to behold.

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