Scioness Sajj


Faction	Vetruvian Imperium
Attack	2
Health	25
Rarity	Basic
Ability	Bloodbound Spell: Your General deals double damage to minions this turn.
Set	Core

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Description[ | ]

Bloodbound Spell: Your General deals double damage to minions this turn.

Bloodbound Spell[ | ]

Psionic Strike

Patch Notes[ | ]

v. 1.63.0 - Added

Card Lore[ | ]

Scioness Sajj[ | ]

She woke amid a blaze of light, buried to her eye slits. Above her hovered a vast lens. Around her swirled melting sands, fusing and running in rivulets toward her. She stirred, testing one half-formed limb, then another. More sand scraped against the articulations of shoulder and knee. Although she felt its heat and its grittiness, neither harmed her. Not until much later would she understand that the Rite of Melding could injure--could even go wrong.

Song rose around her, countermelodies twining in and out of each other. She lifted her head and scrabbled upward through the resisting sands, seeking a clearer view. She could, after a fashion, swim through it. With one nascent hand she reached out. The incomplete fingers, stubby, melted off and dripped back into the pit before she could finish the gesture.

Beyond the sandpit stood a half-circle of armored figures. Their voices reverberated oddly from behind their sandmetal masks. So they were the source of the winding song.

The air around the figures shimmered oddly. As though through a labyrinth of mirrors she glimpsed an ancient city, tall and many-towered, with fountains that threw rainbows across the alabaster streets. She did not blink, couldn't; but at the same time she saw vast dunes, scoured by the wind's restless hand, where the city had once stood.

Through some process that she understood but dimly, the contraption of lenses that focused the light on her existed in both times at once. And the song was dragging it from time past into time present. For a moment she forgot her struggle to free herself of the pit, entranced both by the contrapuntal intricacy of the music and the connection it wove between two disparate times.

She wanted to know more about the song, and the singers, the city and the sands. Once more she attempted to swim upward through the pit's swirl of molten sandmetal. This time she enjoyed better success. It helped that her limbs were beginning to coalesce.

The lens focused ever-brighter light upon her. Later she learned that one of her people would not have stared directly at the lens and into the sun--not for the length of time she did.

With the entirety of her head held above the metal, she cried out. Her voice sounded scratchy, hoarse. But she found her way to words. ‘I want to sing,’ she said.

They hadn't heard her. No surprise. Even the wind's dry susurrus was louder. So she tried again. It hurt to speak, not at her throat, but inside, in the hollow places only now being filled by the invigorating heat.

The figure at the head of the semicircle detached itself from the others and strode forward.

[Next Chapter: Scion's Second Wish]