Years of conversation fill a ton of digital pages, and we've kept all of it accessible to browse or copy over. Whether you're looking for reveal articles for older champions, or the first time that Rammus rolled into an "OK" thread, or anything in between, you can find it here. When you're finished, check out the boards to join in the latest League of Legends discussions.
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
Newest Part - Part 15
Here it was, behind this very door was what she desired more than anything. It had been a long time, but she finally was in reach of him, the one she missed. Talon was stood further down the straight corridor keeping watch, his piercing eyes scanning left and right for any signs of movement. Her gloved hand reached out slowly for the handle, the door itself seemed clear of any Noxian traps, which actually worried her somewhat, she thought they would have at least tried to trap it considering who was being kept, chained, inside.
Applying the smallest amounts of pressure she moved the handle down and silently pushed the large metallic door open. The room was dark and the polluted fumes of filth among other unsanitary conditions struck her nose like a well placed arrow and she involuntarily shifted her head in disgust. A ragged figure sat, his arms lifted by chains on the wall with all look of hope and happiness stricken from his starved face. His head slowly lifted and his vibrant green eyes, the only colour on this man, fell upon Katarina who stood look of pity and sadness over taking her.
“This... must be, a dream” he whispered and Katarina’s sorrow rose more as she saw him wincing between words, clearly parched enough for speaking to be an issue.
“Father...” she whispered stepping forward and kneeling in front of him, putting her face close to his. “I can’t believe... we are here to save you.” Quickly she grasped at the manacle around his wrist, and using her well honed skills began to pick at the lock.
“How long-“ He began.
“A few months” she interrupted, not wanting to strain his throat much more.
“How did you-“
“Talon is here as well, we finally managed to find out where their main hideout is” she replied her eyes not leaving the manacle at which she worked. As soon as the clasp was unlocked his arm weakly fell out of it and to the floor. Clearly he was sapped of energy and would probably not even have the strength to move himself.
Mouthing words that his voice could not speak she placed her slender finger against his lips. “Father please be silent, save your energy” she pleaded. “Talon” she whispered back. “I need your help.” His footsteps could not be heard even by her keen ears but he soon appeared in the doorway and his straight face did not waver in concern, sadness or even pity.
“Very well” he replied as he stooped down to pick up the General. “This will make things more difficult.”
“The plan is unchanged-“
“My, my, my, look at what pair of birds I have caught in my cage, a sunbird and an eagle” a voice called from down the corridor. It was unmistakably the arrogant, strong voice of Jericho Swain. Instinct kicked in and the swift assassins both went for their blades and as if to insult both of them the tactician chuckled in reply. This wouldn’t be the first time Talon and she had fought on the same side, he always moved in first and she would follow up, but why hadn’t he moved yet? The emerald of her eyes glanced left and she realised with horror a violet sigil had appeared beneath his feet and daemonic birdlike talons slowly made their way out.
Although he didn’t say a word, she knew he was snared to the spot, such was the magic potency of Swain. It didn’t matter, the blade in her hand would end his life and bursting forward she sped down the corridor.
She fell to her knees.
A golden chain lashed into life around her feminine neck from behind, slowly squeezing, restricting her movement and pulling her back, away from the tactician who gave a patronising head tilt. With great force upon the chain she was span on the spot to face where her father was, only he wasn’t there anymore.
Holding onto the end of the chain, with a small satisfied smile upon her face was the great deceiver, the enemy to her and her father, LeBlanc. Her blue eyes shimmered in the darkness from the ethereal shining chains that bound Katarina to the spot. “Oh I’m so sorry my dear, did you think I was someone else?”
Speaking proved to be difficult for Katarina so she relaxed and gave up resisting the chains. After a moment of staring she did the only thing she thought the witch in front of her deserved. She spat. In true defiance, for the cruel deceiver was not even worth her words.
“My, my, how barbaric. This performance for your act is the kind of behaviour that we wish to eradicate from the land. Refinement my dear Katarina. Everyone deserves a chance” her head tilted towards Talon who remained constricted by the talons which now engulfed all of his lower body and clutched his arms to his side. “Well, maybe not every individual, a woman needs her toy for when things don’t go quite her way. Especially since the other one is getting a bit old and lifeless.”
The Deceiver’s eyes returned to Katarina’s emeralds and the look she gave told her who this other toy was. However, it did not enrage her, nor did it sadden her, it restored hope. Her words proved that he was alive, unless of course she was being deceived once again.
“Seperate them please Jericho. Make sure you put them into the special cells, now these two are captured, are plan can go ahead unhindered” she said her voice filled with delight. Walking past Katarina she dropped the chain into Swain’s hand. “After that is done come join me for a celebration.”
“As you wish Matron” he nodded in reply. As she stepped further away out of sight, Swain stepped closer to the snared pair.
“You’re going to have a hard time getting us to those cells” Talon spat. “Soon as you try to move me, I’ll gut you.”
The bird upon his shoulder began cawing incessantly and the servant of LeBlanc chuckled loudly. “Dear man, you are in our house. Our power here is greater than what you see at the league, allow me to demonstrate.” His voice was as clear as crystal even amongst the bird calls and suddenly his eyes turned a vivid red and they widened to a great extent staring terrifyingly at the male assassin.
“What... are you?” Talon muttered, staring at awe into Swain’s now bird like eyes.
A hellish energy surrounded the tactician and it gave him a horrible red hue that began to glow within the small cell. The bird continued to call as though it summoned whatever beast was being unleashed inside of Swain. “I. AM. TERROR!” He roared and Talon’s eyes widened in shock, the very room began to shake at the magic energies that Swain unleashed, the hellish glow that surrounded him began to spread, creating a line of mist that struck into Talon’s eyes and after the arcane manifestation had reached its overpowering climax, Talon’s head lulled.
Katarina continued to kneel, watching in horrid shock at the pure power that Swain has at his command, she knew he was a monster, the fields of justice proved this to be the case on many occasions, but this power, truly made him a creature of darkness. After the aura had vanished, the purple sigil surrounding Talon disappeared along with the avian feet that bound him to the spot and his body crashed to the ground.
Closing his eyes the red aura quickly dissipated and turning his head calmly to her he gave a short nod. “Do you wish to be dragged, or escorted, Miss Du Couteau?”
Her deathly gaze would be terrifying, if it wasn’t for what she had just witnessed, which truly defined the word terror. Her choice was faux, it didn’t matter what she would say now and so she waited, her eyes however not turning in submission from the general.
His cheeks shifted, giving her the impression that he smiled. “You are quite right” he stated. Suddenly she was heaved forward onto her front by the speed and strength of the pull from Swain on her golden chain and quickly and painfully she was dragged. It was the most excruciating journey she had ever physically experienced, her face cut across the stone floor, despite her best attempts to shield her face the chain around her neck involuntary forced her hands to the ethereal object that choked her.
Stopping occasionally he allowed her to regain what little breath she could, but after the pain had subsided he yanked her once more. Throughout the dragging Swain remained silent, it was like he calculated every move, the most precise way he could inflict the highest amount of pain, although he never once showed any sign of enjoyment or sadistic pleasure.
Finally she was pulled into a room and left, the clearly metallic door slamming shut leaving nothing but darkness like her end had been signified. She felt the blood from her face, arms and knees begin to pool on the floor where she lay. Her breaths slowed and she gradually brought her knees to her chest, the will to keep her eyes open any longer faded and darkness claimed her.
“Isn’t this suspicious?” Garen asked examining the hooded cloak and robes Asyria just handed to him. They were fairly ordinarily looking, but the sheer weight around the shoulders and hood, gave them a nefarious look.
“You’re in Noxus... everyone is suspicious” she replied a small smirk upon his face. “Besides I do not think you would last long walking in as you normally do. You are famous.”
He sighed in annoyance, but slowly placed the robes on. They were certainly large enough to fit him, even with his armour on and they flowed down to his feet, allowing him to hide the hilt of his blade. “Do you know what building they reside?”
“Of course” she nodded confidently. “Since stealth isn’t your forte, getting in may be difficult. However since we haven’t met them on the way, I can only assume they are in trouble.”
Silence was Garen’s reply as he stared coldly upon his enemy’s home city. Noxus, it was a dark place, even the gates would seem foreboding and somewhat dangerous to normal outsiders. Judging the dark gates and the few buildings that peeked above the high walls of the city, he doubted this city was home to many visitors.
“Let’s go” he determinedly said to her and began a forceful walk towards the gates that opened into the very heart of Noxus.
Garen watched as she darted down the finely constructed Demacian hallway. Her emerald eyes gazing over her shoulder at him as she retreated away with several Noxian soldiers carrying a large corpse, her vibrant red hair flowed as majestically as the rest of her movements. A smirk appeared across her outstanding face, one that would not leave his mind for many restless nights ahead. The only flaw that he could see was a deep scar that precisely made its way vertically across the left side of her face, crossing her eye, but not blinding her. He found it difficult to catch his breath for a while. The battle although exhilarating and pushed him to his very limit didn't account for this, it was the excitement that he had finally found a powerful warrior to match his skill and who would of thought in the form of one so beautiful.
The sinister blade at last. He thought to himself as an infantryman approached him. He waved the soldier off to give pursuit knowing they would be gone by now. The soldier was weary and bloody, but he had fought bravely, Garen's courage and defiance to Noxus lighting a burning spirit in him and the rest of his allies that made them fight with the fury of ten men. His body, like Garen himself represented his ability in battle; trained, powerful and ready to take and make many blows in the name of Demacia.
He placed a hand at his side to a slight wound gifted to him by Katarina. It dripped slowly, but he knew it to not be serious only another token from the field of battle that he would wear with pride. He pondered for a second about how she held her scar, was it a signature of pride or regret? He inspected the crimson upon his gauntlet and studied it for a short while. "Katarina. Sinister Blade. Daughter of the General Du Couteau of Noxus. I pray we meet again on the field of battle soon." He gave a small satisfied smile before jogging to catch up to the lone soldier.
Katarina gazed. Fixated upon the opening through which they had infiltrated the Demacian building earlier. The moonlight hit her skin, adding a garish hue to her hair that somehow combined with the intensity of her eyes gave the Sinister Blade an ominously beautiful visage. After a while of intense scanning of the entrance she was satisfied they were not followed. Her breath was intense, the battle was like no other experience she had before and who would have thought a general of Demacia giving her the rush she felt currently. The thrill bubbled excitedly within her manifesting itself as a smirk, which she wore for a while before turning to her men.
"That was some excellent work." She said genuinely praising her comrades although her voice offered no sense of emotion. "Let's return him back home, before the Demacian dogs come barking" a raise in emotion upon her voice showed her disdain towards the city state. Noxus and Demacia a very old rivalry with many battles fought between them both, but amidst the two city states with nothing but hatred towards one another stood Garen and Katarina, fighting for the sheer thrill they experienced from one another and the intensity of the battle.
She gave a nod to her second in command and he began quietly giving orders amongst the bunch. Her head turned back towards the hastily constructed entry as she began to ponder. So that was Garen Crownguard. His skills were impressive. I hope we meet again beautiful Demacian. With that she fled along with the rest of her companions back to their camp.
"Katarina is going to be in this battle?!" Garen exclaimed excitedly slamming his fist upon the dining table. Cutlery wobbled as did the table from the force of his fist upon its finely crafted wood. He was joined by others, the tall silent warrior Xin, who even though off duty proudly wore his Demacian armour and his spear not more than arms length away, sat to his side. His bright vibrant sister Lux who contrasted to Garen with her golden hair and youthful blue eyes, she wore a very simple, but expensive noble dress coloured blue attractively complementing her eyes. Opposite them sat two of the Kinkou; the dark haired, lightly built Akali and the twitchy yordle Kennen who were both clad in very plain clothing, simple un-dyed cotton, the kind of clothing that best suited peasantry. They were un-phased by his outburst and continued to eat their prepared meals obviously used to the way he reacts to certain news.
"Yes." Akali replied emotionlessly as ever, she had a canny knack for stating things so matter-o-fact and it gave the Demacian General a hard time deciding what really played upon her mind. Her eyes never glanced up to him as she spoke instead staying fully fixated upon her meal. Their conversations had been few and far stretched in the past, but lately the two of them, especially Kennen had been joining them for meals on many occasions. "There is only one position remaining and that is on our team, which Katarina is on." Garen paused for a moment, but Akali continued on, her green eyes swiftly landed target upon Garen as she asked "why does that excite you?"
Garen remained silent for a while before responding, everyone now looking up from their food awaiting his reply. It's almost like he didn't know the answer himself as he scanned his brain. "Obviously because she is a very outstanding warrior! In fact one of the best Noxus has to offer. So knowing how to defeat her now would be advantageous to Demacia!" He said almost convincing, so that everyone else returned to their plates with the exception of Akali, who continued her gaze for a few seconds longer before following suit with the others.
Her gaze was beautiful and terrifying. The worst part, at least Garen assumed was you could never really tell what she really thought, and that maybe she saw into things too well, discovering hidden things that others couldn't pick up on. The young woman was one of the mysterious champions in the League and her intents have never been known to him, but she definitely had purpose behind those eyes and they burned with a passion that was rarely seen out of combat.
"I don't like her and I definitely do not trust her" Lux stated through the grown silence of the table. "You should steer clear of her brother!" Her blue eyes looked upon him, her face displaying almost a plea to her demand.
"Well of course not Luxanna" he replied which was met with an instantaneous sigh of interruption.
"How many times Garen? Call me Lux. Everybody else does. Even Akali does!" her face growing stern in annoyance. Kennen began to giggle at Lux's reply, but Akali quickly shushed him with an unemotional glance. Although her facial expression remained unchanged, Kennen was well aware she did not appreciate either his laughter, or Lux's comment.
"That maybe so, sister" he hesitated for a second, spotting Katarina moving swiftly with obvious purpose through the League's dining rooms. She was majestic to his eyes, every footfall seemed decided and agile like she was ready for an attack at any moment. "I'm participating" he stated changing the subject and stepping to his feet.
"Awesome!" Kennen cried. "The might of Demacia! Yes! Yes! Yes!" The yordle appeared very ecstatic at this revelation, Garen was aware that the smallest member of the Kinkou was an avid fan of his, especially when he performs Judgement on surprised enemies.
"Very well," Akali said quietly over her continually yapping comrade. "We will see you tomorrow then," she placed her cutlery upon her plate in a very neat manner before rising to her feet. Her small frame was deceptive, Garen had underestimated her abilities on many times during his first days of the League and she taught him, the hard way that there was a reason why she was named the Fist of Shadow. "Kennen," the yordle immediately stopped his rant of praise to look up at his partner and with a nod and a wave the two of them left the room.
"Well I'm going to volunteer, I imagine this close to the scheduled match they will almost certainly accept me," he stated, but Lux didn't turn or acknowledge his comment, instead her aggravated eyes remained stationed forwards. He let out a small exhale before disappointingly saying "Farewell Xin."
"Good luck tomorrow friend," Xin replied with a quaint smile before returning to his meal. Garen returned the smile and began his walk towards the arenas. He had always appreciated Xin Zhao's company he was a very reserved man, but often what he said was important and meant to be heard by others, so whenever Xin spoke to him he couldn't help but feel slightly graced.
His thoughts traced back to the Sinister Blade of Noxus, and the question returned, why am I so eager to be in a battle in which she merely is participating in? From what I remember it's not even an important battle, two summoners in disagreement as with most of the cases lately. Training. Of course, training! A soldier should be training when there is not much else to do. Keep his sword arm strong, his reflexes sharp and his battle cunning ready! He continued to walk down the path to his destination, passing summoner and champion alike, but so lost in his own thoughts that everything became almost irrelevant.
"Garen is participating tomorrow?" Katarina questioned a quizzical look appearing across her beautiful face, eyebrow raised in confusion.
"Yes," replied the cool collected voice of Ashe, the Frost Archer. "Or so Galio states," a moment of silence embraced the two women stood in the League's exaggerated gardens. Many different types of life grew here; some Ashe recognised from the Freljord, other's seemed to be from some far exotic jungle. It was a very alien place to be for those knowledged in nature, but a breath taking experience of contrasting colours and life for those who remained ignorant.
Shattering the silence like the ice she commands she playfully asked "I hope it doesn't affect your performance, it's been a while since I have had the privellage to battle against the blade of Noxus. I hope there will be no animosity between you both."
"If you, Queen of the Freljord, can stand here with me, without us baying for each others blood, I assume me and Garen will be fine," she replied with a smirk growing on her face. Some found her smirk utterly tempting, it accented her beauty and made her seem irresistible. Others despised it and could not be any more disgusted, disturbed and in some cases petrified of that smirk. Tension sprang between them suddenly like a pair of parallel magnets and any respect, admiration or even liking they had for each other was lost. The playful nature upon the archer's face had long faded, the harsh stories Tryndamere spoke of for his people at the hands of Noxian troops resounded within her and she grew visibly cold.
"You are quite right," her voice stern capable of freezing any lesser person with fear, but she spoke to the Sinister Blade of Noxus who was very acquainted with the harsh cold herself. "I have no need for your blood; it's worth less than the ground it would fall on. Hopefully Garen will realize the same" she spun on the spot her cape lashing violently behind her inches in front of Katarina's face.
"Good luck tomorrow, Queen Ashe," the smirk still strong upon her face, revelling in the satisfaction of Ashe's mood shift. She enjoyed reminding Ashe of the enemies they should be due to her alliance with the feral barbarians that Noxus honourably tried to pacify.
Garen. What game is he playing?
"You're not very good with making friends are you Katarina?" said a cold mocking voice from a far. The General of Noxus, Master Tactician, Swain, her father's successor after his "mysterious disappearance" approached her with his usual limp. Dressed in his usual noble officer attire of Noxus, the kind of uniform her father used to proudly wear with the addition of a scarf tightly wrapped around the lower half of his face, despite the moderate temperature of the sunny day.
"I'm not here to make friends, and I prefer Miss Du Couteau if you do not mind" she replied arrogantly her disregard for Swain clear in her voice, refusing to catch his gaze until he stood just a metre in front of her. "What do I owe the pleasure?"
"I'm here to inform you with the utmost apology that there is still no sign of your father, Miss Du Couteau, although the matter is still being looked into of course" he said taking a supposed sympathetic bow. Ire grew inside her at this obvious insultingly performed bow. Anyone else would not have dared. Anyone else would not have survived.
"Of course. I imagine my father eagerly awaits his return to his position. Don't you think Swain?" She said her eyes revealing no sense of sadness or anger, her heart wilfully containing it all.
"I prefer General Swain" he took a moments pause before politely adding "if you do not mind."
"Of course you would." She said her emeralds trying to pierce through the aura of mystery and the masque that surrounded this man, her annoyance now on full display at what she considered this unsavoury character.
He let out a small chuckle before turning away from her. "Remember what I said about friends, Miss Du Couteau. Oh, and of course be careful! We wouldn't want one of the former general's daughters going missing as well would we?"
Katarina's stare looked as deadly as the many blades she carried. Her fists were fully clenched, her dislike for this man had occurred before he had succeeded her father, but she always respected him as a brilliant tactician and former soldier of Noxus. However, now something was just off with him and she knew it. Once she was comfortable he was out of range, with a flick of her wrist one of daggers flew across the garden, decapitating flowers as it travelled with tremendous speed.
Are you ready Garen? Questioned a voice inside his head.
"The Might of Demacia always stands vigil!" he replied. "Who is to be our laning partner?"
There was silence and just as Garen went to repeat himself the voice replied with Katarina.
"I see" he replied a small swarm of butterflies invading his stomach for a reason unknown to him.
Is that a problem? Obviously the Kinkou want to lane together and the dark child is demanding the middle. The voice spoke nervously.
"No it will be fine, if I have to lane with any Noxian I would probably pick her" he replied his voice trailing off slightly.
"And who might that be?" spoke a playful feminine voice from behind him, he instantly turned to see Katarina stood fully equipped for battle a smirk wide across her face, the rest of his team mates filed into the staging room after her, the two Kinkou Akali and Kennen and the one known as the Dark Child, Annie.
"Summoner, how do I reply to that?" Garen thought frantically.
Huh? Swiftly responded the summoner. Why are you asking me?
"It's not important. I understand we are to be laning together?" he asked trying not to involuntarily join her in smirking. For some reason he found her smirk infectious, probably because he enjoyed that look upon her face.
Oh. I see. The voice in his head piping up again.
"Yes that's quite right, Garen" she replied the smirk fading as she adjusted her bracers. "Most likely against Ashe and Sona" no sense of fear or apprehension was in her voice, but hidden deeply was a tinge of excitement that Garen barely picked up on.
"Sona?" he questioned for a second. "I didn't realise she was in this fight." The guilt of fighting a fellow Demacian sank to his stomach eradicating the swarm of butterflies that protested against their swift genocide. He hated fighting against another Demacian, especially the beautiful and talented Sona. She was fortunate in the sense she mainly supported the other champions on her team so hurting people wasn't something she was expected to do often, but Garen. His role was the damage.
The doors opened in front of him and the platform for Summoner's Rift blue team awaited him. He, along with rest of his team mates stepped onto the cobbled platform. Ok. I'm buying your things, you can pick it up in a second, once Sona's Clairvoyance has worn off.
"Ok" he replied in his head. Katarina stepped in front of him and his eyes willingly followed, she began to taunt at the watchful eye of clairvoyance, knowing the summoners of the enemy team would be watching. He gave a small smile at her insults, especially taunting the Frost Archer, Ashe to hold nothing back.
Don't get distracted. The summoner said to him forcefully.
"What do you mean?" a look of confusion appearing across his face.
You know exactly what I mean. Grab your items. Garen shook his head in a lack of understanding and walked over to the shop keeper, picking up a pair of boots and some potions. His eyes again wandered to Katarina who had positioned herself next to him, picking up her items too. He noticed her eyes glanced sideways. "What is it?" she said turning to him, a look of annoyance appearing across her face. "You don't have to watch me every second, it's impossible for me to harm you here."
"No, no it's not that!" he hastily exclaimed. "I was uh, just looking at your starting equipment. It seems a bit strange" glancing at the longsword and potion in her hands.
"Yeah. I think my summoner wants to rush a sword of the occult" she replied turning away from him and taking a slow walk towards the bottom lane, the disapproval clear in her voice.
"I thought soul stealer would have suited you better" he said catching up with her.
Her head span to face him; the look of anger indistinguishable, a lesser man would have probably taken a few steps back foolishly thinking they would be safer with distance. "What does that mean Demacian?" she spat, her hands shook very slightly in anticipation and anger at the blatant insult, she had thought the general to be slightly different, but apparently he held his prejudice just as high as any other Demacian dog.
He continued to walk and strode right past her trying not to catch her obviously angry gaze. 'I didn't mean that!' forgetting his summoner could hear his thoughts, 'I just meant most summoners get that with her. What do I say?' The summoner responded with Apologise. He turned to face her, "I'm just kidding Miss Du Couteau, please forgive my bad jest" he stated bowing apologetically.
A small smile appeared across her face realising she may have overreacted to his comment slightly, she considered how interesting he was for a Demacian, not like all the other unskilled imbeciles that seemed to dominate their forces or the other ones who definitely wouldn't have apologised for their foolish mistake. "Garen, call me Katarina. We are laning partners for the moment, it would be inappropriate to call me 'Miss Du Couteau' in the midst of battle, don't you think?" he stood straight again spotting the smile upon her face, she was perfect. The first time he had seen her smile and he enjoyed every moment of it, even the scar across her face just seemed to add to the beauty she possessed.
"I do agree Miss... Katarina" he returned her smile and the two stood smiling at each other before a voice in his head screamed GET MOVING!
He hastily headed up the lane towards the first tower as he saw the minions coming forwards, Katarina behind him. "I'll take the hits" he stated with slight pride in his voice.
"I intended to let you" she said the playful, smirk reappearing upon her face and they both stood ready for the intense battle ahead.
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
Katarina let loose another blade that flew through the air at tremendous speed towards the Frost Archer. She vainly dodged as the blade ripped across her arm leaving a trail of crimson in its path before bouncing and striking Sona as well. Sona slammed on her etwahl blasting a powerful chord into life that seemed to close these wounds instantly. A scowl appeared across her face showing her annoyance towards the Maven of the Strings for keeping the Ice Queen alive.
"Garen!" she called to her side. Garen pulled his sword out of the minion that had stood in his way, earning himself the bounty. He quickly paced over to Katarina who stealthily moved towards the brush.
He stayed upon the edge, dodging an arrow that flew his way. "What is it Katarina?" He said in a hushed voice.
"Sona, we have to take her out" her voice was quite vicious, showing true the killer instincts she had harnessed into a powerful presence on the battlefield.
"Sona?" Garen hesitated glancing at the maven who stood behind Ashe, with a quaint pretty smile upon her face as she focused on playing a melody to hone Ashe's skill.
"Once she is down, we can move on Ashe. You need to silence her music!" She insisted. Garen heard the sounds of brush moving, getting closer to the two enemies. She is right you know stated the voice of the summoner.
Garen nodded, taking one last look at the harmonious visage that radiated from Sona, he charged towards them both. He grasped his blade in one hand and placed a foot straight onto an enemy minion; with the momentum he forced himself into the air. Garen feinted for Ashe and she ducked allowing him to pass over her with his impressive leap. He made a swing for Sona, the etwahl reacted defensively and blocked the blow for its master, but the snapping sound of a string brought the melody she played to an end. The look of disappointment clear upon her face she hastily reached into a hidden pocket upon her dress and pulled out one of the many spare strings she possessed.
Katarina dove from the brush, as Garen continued a relenting assault upon the songstress. Ashe sent a wave of arrows towards Katarina as she charged, but before they impacted she appeared behind Sona bestowing a vicious elbow to her back and after a few slashes with her blades the Maiden soon began her retreat. Just as she managed to replace the missing string on her etwahl, Katarina threw one of her many blades impacting Sona in the abdomen bringing her to the ground.
Satisfied the healer had been taken care of, Katarina spun to face Ashe. The smirk appeared as the realisation that between Ashe and her tower stood Garen and Katarina, a look of horror displaying perfectly across the frost archer to the Noxian's satisfaction. Defiant as usual she levelled her bow at Katarina, but the smirk didn't fade as Garen stepped his way in front of her. He looked serious, his war face, barely ever changed, sometimes he roared with the fury of a great bear, but mainly his face was still and stern.
Seven arrows parted towards them, as Garen began his charge forwards. One became stuck in his armour the force not great enough to even reach the skin, while another whizzed past his head; however he felt the cold around his legs and the armour began to become almost unmoveable as the ice settled in around the joints. Quick and agile the frost archer leapt to one side to take aim at where she believed Katarina to be, behind Garen, but the space was empty and the arrow flew through the air.
A sharp pain in her side and the question of where Katarina had vanished no longer remained unanswered. Another pain in her arm started to spread across her body, the fresh wounds bleeding worse than normal. She clenched her teeth together tight, avoiding giving Katarina any form of satisfaction from cries of pain. With her last action she spun while taking aim at where she believed Katarina would be, the arrow flew but did not catch the Sinister Blade instead flying wildly over her should. However the blade that approached Ashe found its mark, square on her heart and her vision went black.
Garen breaking free from the harassment of ice that Ashe had placed upon him approached Katarina, casually despatching a dying minion as he walked. "That was very impressive Katarina. It's good to see your abilities are as sharp as ever."
With a bordering grin which had not left her since the engagement with Sona she replied "thank you Garen. I'm glad to see some Demacians have the ability to see skill when it's right in their faces." With a sense of sarcastic coy she inspected her nails while she spoke despite wearing gloves. "Although, I must admit, I could not have done it without you. The performer usually gives me too much trouble."
He nodded, not joining her with a smile, the guilt still tingling in his stomach from his act of attacking Sona. She's fine the summoner spoke reminding him she would have felt little pain and that she would be back on the battle field shortly. "Since you got the final blows, your sword has gained power" he stated emotionlessly. "This will make future engagements with them much easier."
Katarina's smile faded and she raised an eyebrow quizzically. She hesitated, words growing upon her tongue, but unwilling to be birthed into life so instead she just nodded in agreement. "I think I will head over and help the Dark Child. Can you look after things here?"
Garen nodded in agreement, and the spry woman headed off down the river towards the middle lane where the Dark Child battled against the Void Prophet, Malzahar. He watched as she disappeared out of his line of sight, he turned towards the wave of enemy minions that approached his tower and he sped off bringing his sword upon one of their heads. He began to spin his sword, outstretched slashing wildly at the minions and once he stood straight the wave of minions fell to the ground.
I thought I told you not to get distracted the summoner spoke, breaking the silence in Garen's mind. 'What do you mean by that Summoner?' Garen asked forcefully, unaware of the meaning of his strange outburst. Just stay focused on the battle, your eyes don't need to follow her everywhere. There was silence once again in Garen's mind, unsure of how to respond to that statement. 'I was making sure she didn't get ambushed. That path has been the site of many ambushes.' He finally replied, there was only silence and the swordsman questioned whether his summoner wished to continue on that path of conversation, relieved that he apparently had lost interest. Ok fine, whatever. The summoner eventually spat, his voice clear in annoyance. Sona and Ashe have returned. Don't let them farm this lane.
Garen nodded as he moved forwards cautiously, they both outranged him so if he approached too close they would painfully remind him. He was capable of quick bursts of speed, but the ability to slow her opponents with ice enchanted in her arrows was the reason for the name, the Frost Archer, capable of denying him any manoeuvrability. He stood a distance behind his minion wave making sure any arrows sent his way were caught by one of the minions instead of him. He glanced over at the songstress, who continued to perform her melodies with that pretty quaint smile she had before, her instrument restrung, no signs of the previous engagement apparently played on her mind. This uplifted Garen slightly; she showed him no signs of anger or vengeance and she even gave him a polite wave when she spotted him looking. He gave her a pleasant smile, but quickly returned stern when he spotted Ashe heading towards the river path that lead to the middle lane.
'Summoner, give warning to Katarina and the Dark Child. Ashe is heading to the middle.' He commanded stepping forwards lunging at a dying minion claiming its bounty. He looked at the Maven who stood unusually close to her minion wave. "Miss Sona" he called out in the heat of battle. Her eyes glanced to his eyes and a startled look appeared across her face, like he had singled her out in a crowd of thousands. "I wanted to apologise. I was not aware you were part of this battle."
She shook her head displaying her lack of care for that fact, a hint of blush warming her cheeks. Her eyes stared into his for a while and he grew uncomfortable with the gaze she had placed upon him. Finally a devious smile grew across her face and she extended a hand and began flexing her fingers back and forth signalling him to bring it on. With a smile across his face and using one of the bursts of speed he was famed for, the Might of Demacia charged towards her.
Suddenly an impact struck him across the side of the face, if it weren't for the fact he was routed to the spot by an unreal amount of ice, he would have easily toppled. The frost Archer emerged from the brush close to the river path and began firing upon him. Garen used his strength to force himself free from his icy prison, but just as he did something brought him to the ground. Furred claws ripped at his chest armour, tearing metal and flesh alike, the rapid succession of swipes causing blood to splash across his own face and his terrible opponent, Warwick. He spotted the archer and the songstress move closer to him, not wanting to hit their comrade with their attacks.
Garen managed to kick the wolf off, dragging himself to his feet, he began to spin wildly extending his sword, cutting through his surprised foes, but not powerful enough to halt their excessive attack on him. He spotted Katarina, emerging from the same brush that Ashe had just came from, her face was alive, slightly bloodied and full of lust for her enemies' blood. Her hand extended pointing at Sona, who like she was about to perform some kind of masterpiece. Instinct kicked in for him and he swiped at the Maiden viciously, again the horrible sound of a string snapping across her otherwise perfect instrument.
As he fell to the floor, his last ounces of life leaving his body, he spotted the Sinister Blade in all her magnificence and finesse appearing next to Sona beginning a torrent of unrelenting throws of the blades positioned around her body at the three enemies. One by one they fell to her vicious accuracy and the wolf straggler who hastily fled from her, barely alive was quickly put down by that mysterious move that he knew only as Shunpo. After an announcement of a "triple kill" for Katarina, Garen's world went black.
“I feel... different” Garen confessed, his face stern and resolute as usual, his strong voice hiding any sense of shame from his statement. “I don’t think I can explain it very well. I just feel not myself.”
Xin placed a thumb in the book which he read and lightly closed it, marking his page. He took his keen eyes to Garen’s face who stared forwards, clearly in deep thought about the self proclaimed revelation. “I have noticed, General Crownguard” Xin replied his voice soft from the wisdom ready to be brought into existence. “Your soldiers soul is fading I feel.”
“Soldiers soul? My grandfather’s words” Garen replied turning to the other Demacian, his spear as usual not more than an arm’s length away. Garen’s face remained stern, although not gaining any sense of confidence from Xin’s admission, there was no sign to show it. He turned back, allowing Xin’s wise words to effect his thinking.
“Yes. Your grandfather was a great man. A fantastic soldier and I loved his writings on the ideas of a warrior’s heart, mind and soul. Soldier soul is a phrase he coined quite often and it’s something I believe in quite strongly.” Xin stated closing the book fully and placing it on the table where they sat, the usual position in the great dining hall. “How much do you know of the soldier soul?”
“I read all of my grandfather’s work, although this was many years ago, some parts fall blank to me” Garen admitted.
“Do you recall his text on the ‘Test of the Soul’?” Xin asked, placing a grasp upon his spear and standing up.
“No. This is one text that has eluded me unfortunately. If you remember it Xin, I would like to hear it from you” Garen replied also standing to his feet.
“Then walk with me, friend” Xin replied moving out from the dining hall.
As they walked along the corridors Xin remained firmly silent. Garen spoke no words either, knowing that Xin was probably waiting for the right moment to recollect his grandfather’s words. They reached the edge of the League’s gardens, a beautiful sight, but Garen thoughts caused him to blindly miss its exotic, almost alien beauty.
“There comes a time, in every great warrior’s career when he loses a piece of the soldiers soul he has come to develop. Possibly even the entirety of the soul he once had. You remember how it gets developed?” Xin questioned, his pace has slowed and he seemed to admire many of the exotic plants that grew around them.
“Yes. It is something that grow within us, with each battle we participate in. It’s the total sum of the drive, passion, anger and skill that we feel and throw towards our enemies. My grandfather stated to tap into your soldiers soul and using it, is to the key to defeating everyone who opposes you.” Garen replied confident he was correct with his summary of his grandfather’s work.
“Indeed” Xin confirmed. “I feel the same has happened to you. A piece of this soldier soul has broken away from you. It is reflective in your actions as a warrior, a general and a human.”
“How did I allow this to happen?” Garen asked, a leak of disappointment mixing with his words.
“It happens to all of us. We meet a challenge in our lives that we don’t know how to overcome, something that strikes at us, removing us from our comfort zone. It’s a challenge we are not used to. It usually happens when warriors are so used to defeating everything in their path, defeat no longer becomes a possibility.” Xin paused for a while, admiring a particular flower that grew from a thorny bush as tall as the pair of them. The flower was an exotic combination of red and blue petals that faded to purple the closer it reached to the centre. “I do not wish to discover that which you are eluded to overcome, but I believe it is more than just the blade.”
Garen pondered his long conclusive statement for a while before asking “How do I retain this piece of the soldier soul that I am missing? Is it possible?”
Xin gave a small hearty laugh. “Yes dear friend it is possible. From what I remember of your grandfather’s work there are four options. One is to flee from it. Casting aside the way of the warrior and leading a life of peace or regret, that is up to you. The second is to confront the challenge presented, fight it with everything else that resides in your soldier soul, become victorious and reclaim what rightfully belongs to you.”
Garen gave a nod of understanding, allowing Xin to finish with the remaining two options. His grandfather’s words were curious, he had read them at an age much younger than his current, and he failed to grasp the principles they taught back then, but now with Xin’s guidance they ring clear and true just like the other virtues of Demacia. “The third is to embrace that challenge. Instead of seeing it an obstacle to overcome, see it as an opportunity to welcome. Embracing such a challenge can make you stronger, or it can defeat you. Your grandfather quoted this as a dangerous option. The final one he stated was the only option that he deemed unacceptable. To ignore it. Push the challenge away and pretend it doesn’t exist. This will destroy the rest of your soldier soul and I believe it’s what you have been doing so far Garen.”
Garen looked back at Xin, his wisdom and perception were a blessing and his ability to read into people and events gave Garen a confidence that he was receiving good counsel that would ultimately lead him to conquering this challenge. “I understand, thank you Xin Zhao, your words are always masterfully crafted and the counsel you offer lightens my thoughts indeed. However I am afraid that I do not know what my challenge is, what I am meant to overcome.”
Xin paused for a second, pondering Garen’s response in his head. “Maybe that in itself is part of the challenge.” The tall noble warrior continued down the path, his spear gently tapping along the stone matching the movement of his leg as he walked. “Think to when you felt the decline, and the events that happened before it, you may find your answer there.”
Garen remained stationary watching the wise man part from his view behind a large grouping of trees. Xin’s and his grandfather’s words had made an impact inside Garen. A fire began to burn brightly inside him, the desire to defeat this challenge warmed his soul again. He had to fight and he had to win, in the name of Demacia, and his right as general, he vowed to never let his vision become foggy or for his sword to stray. He knew just where to start.
She removed the leather boots from around her feet and gave her toes a small stretch and joyous wiggle. A smug satisfactory smirk had remained upon her face since the battle had ended, and her team were declared the winners. It wasn’t just that fact that she had won, but the fact that she repeatedly buried her daggers into the Frost Archer that lead to this clear sign of pleasure. She grabbed a brush from the desk next to her bed, where she sat her body sinking into the duvet that was previously perfectly made.
These league chambers were smaller than she was used to, although eloquent in their design and furnishing, the lack of size was something that was noticeable to her. Some home finery, such as decals of Noxus and exceptional paintings of the cityscape hung around the walls. She looked admiringly upon them as the brush ran through her hair removing any battle knotting that may have occurred. She longed to return home at the sight of such memories, but she knew for now she had to remain within the league. She allowed her mind to ponder for a split second what her sisters were doing, before shaking the idea of it being anything beyond going giddy over dresses or handsome men from her mind.
A quick brush satisfied her interest in her hair and she placed it back upon the wooden desk, reaching for the handle of the drawer underneath. Anyone else may have pondered why she opened this drawer in such a way. There was an obvious skill to whatever she was doing as her fingers never graced the centre of this handle, and she slid it open carefully, a more than regular amount of concentration used for merely opening a drawer. She placed her hand carefully inside and pulled out a pot of ink, a sheet of parchment and a quill. She forcefully shut the door with her hip, making sure no part of her body touched against the handle.
Upon the piece of high quality material she began to write, dipping her quill into the ink she began to elegantly curve words beautifully into another, taking great care and pride in the almost artistic work she was creating. Dear sister. It began. I am writing from my quarters in the league and pondered a general interest. A harsh scribbling began as a mistake, probably not noticeable amongst anyone other than an expert of handwriting, was created on the flawlessly made parchment.
Greatly annoyed she forcefully placed the pen upon the desk and stood up leaving the parchment a scribbled mess. She removed her leather jacket and placed it upon the chair and slowly towards the full length mirror in the corner of her room. Her eyes glanced over her body before coming to rest upon the scar that resided over her left eye. A controlled anger gently coiled in the bottom of her stomach like a snake, but was abruptly interrupted by footsteps coming up the corridor. They were loud, heavy and purposeful, but where were they headed?
It didn’t take her long to figure out they destined for her door and she keenly waited behind the door ready to answer to whoever approached.
"Garen is participating?" said a cold masculine voice from a dark shadow. His figure was completely hidden giving no sense to his build, height, features or possible strengths or weaknesses, but this was how Katarina was used to do doing business with this man. Her stance was light, but could easily be shifted to react to any immediate danger that could become present, unlikely as it may be. "Was this something you planned, or does it make any difference?"
"I had no influence upon it. I'm actually surprised at his spontaneous decision he made." She stated honestly and respectfully, her eyes staring at the shadow she believed this man to hide in. Like usual, the location was dark due to the shroud of night and the purposely dimly light chamber. Many books surrounded her, some placed open upon tables with old ornate chairs neatly tucked behind them, but the majority rested upon tall shelves that reached to the top of the ceiling that was easily the height of eight men. Finery was placed casually around the chamber, although the darkness gave them more of a foreboding appearance than the usual outlandish colourings that would be seen during the day.
"I am not" the voice eventually retorted. "Then again, maybe you just don't see it yet. Or possibly you are trying to pretend you don't?"
She took a few steps away from the shadow where the voice resided, her hair violently whipped as she turned away from him passing through the haunting darkness that engulfed her. "I don't understand your question, and I understand less its importance." She replied as cool as she could, but a hint of respect still retained in her voice.
"I finally read that Journal of Justice issue from many, many weeks ago. Why were you both in the Hasty Hammer Tavern?" the voice questioned.
She clenched a fist slightly; as what she believed to be an accusation was thrown at her. "Sowing the seeds" she said allowing no annoyance to spoil the calm of her voice.
"You mean, spinning your web correct, 'Black Widow'?" the voice lightened again in a sense of jest, but it was a jest Katarina did not appreciate.
"If you want to use his words, then so be it" she replied, allowing her annoyance to be heard now, sounding more frustrated with each passing sentence. "You know what you have to do?"
Again another long pause occurred, the silence embraced her ears. She had trained in her youthful years how to properly hone her awareness, her senses heightened to a level that was beyond average people. Being an assassin wasn?t just about not being seen, but also about how to see. She heard the faintest of movements behind her, moving quietly across the left of her and as her head slowly turned she came to realise the shadow had moved and although invisible within the dark, its gaze penetrated her calm. Fear is not the word to describe how she felt, it wasn't close. More of an uncomforting numbness that resided in her stomach that made her more cautious to his movements.
"Yes" the voice finally replied. "I will be visiting him shortly" he stated a sound of uncertainty that Katarina barely caught.
"You do not trust him?" she questioned, emeralds piercing the shadow.
The shadow moved back, retreating from her penetrating stare. "I think you hold your trust him in too highly."
A sheer look of scorn appeared across her face and she stepped forwards moving closer to where he resided. "If you do not trust him, then at least trust my judgement!" she growled the annoyance clear upon her face and tone, the respect diminishing slightly with each word spoken.
"I apologise milady" the voice conceited instantly. The cold and harshness of his voice remained, but an obvious subservience taking dominance to illustrate his apologies to the Sinister Blade. Satisfied, Katarina removed her scowl and lowered the offensive stance she had instinctively taken. She gave a slight nod of acceptance towards the shadow, not uttering a word. "I will remain vigil, Miss Du Couteau" the cold voice wandered as she felt the presence of the shadowed man leaving.
She turned randomly and began a small pace forwards, lost in thought. Her schedule was busy tomorrow and this match with Garen on her side was one of the many happenings. She halted in front a recently occupied desk. There were stacks of articles, carefully placed close to the edge of the table on the left side of the chair, while others seemed to of been pushed, possible thrown in a mess upon the far right side of the desk, showing their lack of usefulness to the person who worked here.
"War in Kalamanda" she whispered quietly to herself, reading the headline of the article on top. She gave an interested look placing her finger upon the page before turning and with quick but soft pace headed for the door, exiting the chamber.
Garen watched safely from the brush at Ashe who was planting several well placed arrows onto the first tower that defended the middle lane. The battle was going in their favour, Katarina had made many impressive kills throughout and the Kinkou were a fearful force upon the top lane, denying Galio greatly or so his summoner reported. The only problem had been Warwick and Malzahar, Warwick, despite his death to Katarina, had killed many neutral minions and had much bounty to spend. The battle upon the middle lane, eventually came down to the individual summoner, since the one controlling the Dark Child was not as experienced as the one controlling the Void Prophet, she lost greatly.
He watched as the Ice Queen, safely behind the wave of her minions placed shot after shot onto the tower and would soon have it destroyed if she was not stopped. 'Summoner, where are my team?' Garen questioned, not seeing any within his line of sight. They are heading your way, you must initiate on her now! The summoner exclaimed in his mind.
Garen hastily dove from the brush to the side of the middle lane and headed towards her. Her back turned she was unaware of his attack, or was she far to determined to destroy this tower? His speed was unmatched by anyone currently on the battlefield and he aimed a well placed strike into Ashe, who seemed to react at the last second, but not soon enough to fully dodge the blow. He began martially striking at her; she weaved and dodged as best she could but gaining a few cuts along her arms and side quickly convinced her to move back to safety.
The rest of his team emerged from various hidden positions; the Dark Child sent a ball of pure fire heading towards Ashe that stunned her, still a likeable distance from her tower from Garen's eyes. Akali moved in, ready to dash onto the frost archer, but suddenly out of nowhere appeared Galio, flashing into existence in the centre of the five warriors who bore down upon the Ice Queen. They all witnessed in horror as his shape began to shift and solidify, turning and more and more into a stony suit of carapace that shielded him from damage and the inclination was clear. A rage built up inside Garen, one that he couldn't seem to control. The creature that he looked upon was disgusting, a hideous form of life and he vowed to cleanse the world of it. A lone thought ventured out from the rage that engulfed his entire being. But Galio is Demacian...
He barely noticed his team reacting similarly, striking violently at the statue, not even using their magical prowess to strike, it was feral and lethal, each blow not even causing a scrape upon the hardened rock that had formed around Galio. Not even the strikes from Ashe or the sudden appearance of Warwick, Sona and Malzahar could deter them from striking out at Galio. An intensity had built up around the gargoyle and suddenly exploded into existence, shards of stone slicing at the whole team, cutting each one of them painfully open.
Their instinct and the guidance of their summoners all forced them flee back towards their tower, but with a master piece graced to them by Sona, they could not help but stand and listen to the beauty she had peacefully offered them. Akali reacted already and had dropped her shroud in the middle of the path disappearing from Garen's sight, he had not time to question whether she would retreat or foolishly try to engage while their team was focused on the rest of them. Kennen with a burst of speed passed the Dark Child and Katarina. It wasn't long before Warwick, spurred on by the sight of the brutality that was being displayed had shoved Annie to the floor slashing wildly across her small body, with the assistance from Ashe they quickly despatched her.
Kennen by this point had long retreated back behind the tower, continuing even further and only Katarina and Garen remained in the enemies' path. He glanced back, spotting Ashe taking aim and releasing an arrow that he had experienced before, it flew over the heads of the minions that they passed aimed perfectly for the target, the Sinister Blade. Garen using a burst of speed, lunged for the red head, pushing her to the side with his broad shoulder, the arrow hit him straight against the back. He was frozen in place by the sheer cold, ice and strength of the blow, his eyes upon Katarina who looked back unto him, her eyes showing an obvious sign of confusion, but also a barely contained smile of thanks across her face, her eyes did not leave his as she continued to move backwards. He was unaware of the pain that was being brought to him, of the angry summoner questioning him for his action, for all that he endured for this short time he considered it worthwhile, to once again look upon that smile.
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
haha, love it so far! bookmarked for the future
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
“What do you know!?” she spat through clenched teeth, forcing the blade deeper into the terrified man’s skin, causing blood to trickle from the now open wound. He was an average young Noxus’ slum citizen, or so he seemed, with roughly cut black hair, dark irides and a tired expression. Bags hung under his eyes gave a horrid contrast to his otherwise pale skin. Normally Katarina would take pride in the terror and pain being displayed upon his face, but this was more than business. More than a simple killing.
“HEL-“ the man began to cry out before she swiftly drove her fingers forcefully into his throat silencing him. As her fingers connected she slid the rest of her arm swiftly along his neck and forced her forearm against it harshly, slamming his head against the dark stone of the alleyway. She spotted a small blood stain left upon the cold stone as his head lulled forward. The bountiful moonlight did not grace them, as the rest of the Noxian slums, the light from scare oil lamps dotted among the streets barely shifted the darkness that hung deep during the nights and gave no comfort to those braving the darkness of the alleys.
“What do you know?” she repeated removing the blade from his hip with speed to make him seethe in pain. She positioned the blade across his cheek and embedded it very slightly drawing the faintest amount of blood, but enough that he could taste it when it trickled upon his lips. Her face was close to his and she could see the realisation in his eyes, he knew wasn’t going to survive regardless of how much information he gave her.
“I don’t... know anything” the man replied, his voice raspy and quiet from the blow to the throat. His eyes moved slightly from her emeralds indicating the lie he just spoke.
Her face lightened slightly and it seemed to manifest around the grip she held on him, which tightened sharply. “You may think you are dead either way. Let me assure you, that is a correct assumption” her voice was calm and eerily convincing. “However, death is not what you should fear” her blade dove deeper into his cheek and she pulled the fine edge downwards towards his lip, spilling the contents of blood as it travelled. “It is me, and how long I can keep this pain up for” her words growing fiercer with each passing syllable, but ended with the smirk casually growing across her face.
His mouth dropped unconsciously in terror; he struggled ever so slightly, but soon realising it a foolish ambition. He wanted to scream, to call for assistance, but his body couldn’t commit itself to that course, not with those inhumane murderous eyes gazing at him. “I...” He stuttered. “I don’t know much.” He confessed. “Only that the Crownguards will be first.”
Her eyes studied his face, no signs of betrayal thus far and she decided to press a further question to his honesty. “How?”
“I haven’t been told” he quickly barked, his honesty still holding true.
“I don’t know!” With a flash she manoeuvred the blade downwards, drawing blood and cutting cloth along the path it took, which started from his lip downwards across his chest, along with his narrow stomach and resting just above the groin. “But soon!” He quickly replied as he felt the slow force being pressed against his skin.
“Then what?” The venom in her voice now returned to its full potency, smirk fading.
The fear left his eyes and instead became blank, empty. His face turned gaunt for a moment, before brightened as though an intruder had just claimed territory over the man. “Remove the guard. Take the crown!” He said, his voice so much lighter than she had previously heard it, a joy ringing clear with those chosen words.
She looked upon him, the composition upon her face not altering despite his sudden change in personality. “Last question. Where is my father?”
“Oh child” he spoke, his voice sounding majestic and noble beyond what seemed capable of a man of his status. “You ask those kinds of questions? They almost speak rhetoric, as you already know the answer! Even upon this stage the act is adorable, but also galling.”
Katarina remained silent as the man spoke, it’s not that words eluded her, just that she no longer wished to part with them. “I believe you have one more scene to perform before this act is complete” the figure violently lashed out his hands, with a strength that she assumed the blade had removed, aiming for places she would prefer to not be spoiled by his touch. The reaction was quick as was the death she graced him. The blade she had poised above the groin surged upwards, striking under the protection given by the ribs and hitting the vitals to instantly slay the individual.
Blood sprayed upon her lower half, covering the street in a beautiful crimson that she allowed herself to admire for a short while. Shaking her head she slowly continued her walk down the alleyway, deeper into the heart of the Noxian slums.
As the forceful knocked closed with the chosen pattern upon her door, she stealthily moved across to the glass hole placed upon the door’s centre. Her bare feet not making a sound upon the carpet as she lightly stepped. Spying through the small glass hole she saw Garen, stood proudly straight, sword sheathed, hands behind his back.
Her eyebrow raised in confusion. What on ‘terra? She quickly began judging the possible reasons for his visit, the first time a Demacian had ever had the insolence or just plain stupidity to come knocking upon her door. Knowing she was still almost fully equipped, she opened the door, the curious eyebrow not lowering as her eyes looked upon his , and his gazed in return.
Not allowing her to seem taken by surprise she allowed him to speak first, but she stood arms folded as the door continued to swing open to the fullest it could.
His words never came. Instead he moved forwards raising his right arm, she reacted as quickly as normal, blocking what she perceived to be a blow with her left arm pushing it to the side. She felt a grasp around her hip, feeling Garen’s palm upon her skin. Had she gotten so used to fighting him that she never expected him to aim low? She knew when fighting without weapons; Garen had the advantage of strength. If he ever grappled her he could easily over power her, more famed for her speed than strength she was taken aback slightly by the intrusion and the hostility.
His strength pulled her close towards him and she felt his right hand full upon her neck, lifting her head. Katarina saw his face coming closer to hers and she prepared herself for his head to fully impact hers.
Instead the sensation of warmth upon her lips greeted her. Her eyes flashed open widening in surprise. Her mind raced as Garen gently caressed her lips with his. Instinct screamed at her to move away, punish him for his brazenness with a slow death, but something kept her at bay and she placed a hand upon his cheek.
She shook herself out of the daydream she had fallen into, a look of rage upon her face. She stomped forwards and reached for the handle forcefully yanking it open. Garen’s sword surged forwards just as the door was open enough for her to reveal herself. It struck her in the abdomen easily penetrating the soft skin of her stomach, its force and a failed attempted dodge pushed her backwards. She was greeted by the carpet that provided little cushioning from the sudden blow. Her hand instinctively moved towards the pain inspecting the life force that oozed from the large stab wound across her stomach while the other travelled for a blade upon her belt.
She felt a large metallic boot upon her chest as she looked helplessly up at her assailant, Garen, the Might of Demacia loomed over her, victorious. He raised his sword mightily like a true champion of old, signalling her end with the severing of her head with one quick swipe.
She opened her eyes. I suppose that’s the two most extreme possibilities , she thought to herself. Cautiously she opened the door, with neither a look of surprise or anger she folded her arms waiting for him to speak. He remained formal, his eyes moving to hers when she opened the door. “Good evening, Miss Du Couteau” he said bowing his head slightly in greeting. He waited for her reply of greeting which never came, so the two stood awkwardly for some time.
“What are you doing in these halls Demacian?” she questioned breaking the silence, adding a tone of annoyance to hide her surprise.
He stood silently for a short period, but his face did not change. There was no sign of kindness in his eyes, nor any sign of hatred. “I wish to spar” he finally replied.
Katarina could sense something about him, a sort of motivation behind his otherwise emotionless eyes. Her eyebrow raised in curiosity displaying both her confusion and intrigue. “You wish to spar?” a smirk began to gain access to her mouth as she brewed the necessary insult. “Why would I waste my time doing that with you?”
“I did not mean to intimidate you” he quickly replied with a small smirk of his own. “I can understand your hesitance” he said giving his head another small bow, this time signalling his departure and began a slow pace down the corridor.
“Why me?” she called after him leaning herself against the wooden frame, arms still folded, smirk still beaming in full glory at the back of Garen’s head.
He stopped his slow pace down the corridor, but keeping his look forward to not show any emotion.
“It is you I -"
“Here tomorrow. Same time” she stated down the corridor, giving the door a slight slam as she pushed it closed. She heard the sounds of his heavy footsteps reaching the stairs. Interesting move, Demacian.
“You’re meeting him tomorrow?” The shadow questioned, once again situated in one of the dark corners of this impressive library, gazing out towards Katarina. “For what purpose?”
“He wishes to spar” she retorted chuckling slightly brushing a hand through her hair.
“You believe him?” The cold voice asked a slight touch of anxiety in its voice.
“Garen? The Might of Demacia, one who I could imagine never tricking an opponent through some sense of broken nobility. Yes. I believe him” her reply still had the faintest trace of amusement, but also a fierce aggression, once again showing disdain for the lack of trust the individual showed.
“I hope this is part of the plan you have yet to reveal, Miss Du Couteau” the shadow replied shifting its position around the library.
“It’s an unexpected turn of events that I intend to take advantage of; do you not trust my instincts?” She threw the shadow a wicked tempting smile, lesser men would have probably thrown themselves at her then not caring for the consequences, just for the desire of someone so beautiful.
“I trust your instincts, but we are both aware that your father was the master of plans, Miss Du Couteau” the voice replied cold and stern.
“Then trust that my father’s legacy has been passed to me!” She yelled, echoing slightly, bouncing off the walls and the grand bookcases to a great height. Her face was venomous and showed great anger; the smile had disappeared as soon as his words were uttered remaining what some may perceive as a pure hatred.
“Someone approaches!” The shadow quickly spat. “Not a summoner!” Katarina saw the shadow fade deeper into the black corner. She gently walked across to one of the desks grabbing a random book from a bookcase as she quietly paced. She sat at the ornate chair behind the desk and lit the lone candle which resided upon it. The doors to the library were gently pushed open and she heard the sounds of light footsteps behind her. Female. Petite. Young. Not yet fully developed. As she began to work out the individual based on footsteps she realised that it may have been best for her to of just left, but she continued to faux read the book which she snatched.
“I’m surprised your brother lets you out so late” Katarina said to the silence that had engulfed the room, gesturing a hand above her head in recognition of the individual entering the room.
“Hmph!” Was the reply she received and the footsteps continued past her towards one of the closer book cases. She smiled at the fact she had both guessed correctly the individual and their reaction.
“For your information, Katarina, my brother has no say over when I conduct my affairs!”
“Little Miss Crownguard, I thought your family was famous for their courteous behaviour, I thought us nobles would refer to each other by family names. Your brother always remembers his noble bearing” she span round upon her seat, seeing Lux’s agitated face made her grin even wider. “He always calls me, Miss Du Couteau. Well, except recently when I gave him permission to call me Katarina, considering how close we’ve become.”
“You expect me to take anything you say as worthwhile? I wouldn’t even if you weren’t a Noxian!” Lux snapped back at her, annoyance clear in her voice. She never tried to hide her emotions from
Katarina’s experience, and if she ever tried she was generally bad at it.
“You can take it however you wish, Miss Crownguard” Katarina toyed with an idea before deciding the opportunity to be too good to pass up. “He’s meeting me at my quarters tomorrow evening.”
“Hah!” She barked. “It’s petty what you are trying to do, Katarina! I see how you are and how you behave. Do not think for a second I would fall into a trap laid by you so easily! What business would he have with the likes of you anyway?”
Katarina did not give her a reply with words, but instead one of her wicked smirks, suggesting plans of a more adult nature than Lux cared for. Her eyes narrowed and the blade of Noxus saw the Demacian’s fingers begin to twitch. They continued to stare at each other for a short while, Katarina’s smirk not fading, before Lux stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Katarina let out a deep exhale, she hoped the frustration she caused had stopped Lux from perceiving the individual with whom she spoke with before. She may not be the most perceptive person, but her talent with magic is something Katarina couldn’t risk. She removed the light from the candle upon the desk and immediately the shadow took form in the corner closest to her. “Why do you try to enrage her? She could reveal me in a second, her ability to yield light, makes her being here dangerous indeed!” Although anger dominated its voice Katarina also sensed a hint of fear as well.
“I believe that to be... my mistake” she replied smirk fading lightly, until eventually disappearing.
“And I believe you are playing with fire for fun! It’s dangerous!”
“I do not care for your beliefs or your input. So shut up!” She snapped, showing her teeth with the annoyance yet to be seen by this individual. “You know why you are around, and you know why I’m stuck here” she began to move closer to the individual. “So do not mistake your position as a necessity on my part. I would be happy to be rid of if you continue to question my motives or make suggestions upon me”
Her wrist flicked and two blades found their mark hitting the shadow. A horrid wincing scream called, again echoing in the library. A small patch of what appeared to be black ink began oozing from the corner. “Do I make myself clear?” she finished now within striking distance of the corner.
“Of course, milady” the voice eventually replied the sound of pain unable to be disguised by the individual.
“Now, get back to what I asked of you originally!” She yelled spinning around, whipping her hair at the shadow, but feeling no connection. She stormed out of the library slamming the doors behind her in a similar fashion to Lux moments before.
The figure hesitated for a while in the corner, and a horrible sucking sound became audible in what he believed to be the empty room.
“I believe we need to have a chat” said a cold voice clad in regality. The shadow shifted in surprise glancing up towards the railing before the stairs that allowed access to the second floor. He spotted him, the distinct. The noble. The tactician that is, Jericho Swain. A foul looking bird stared deathly at the individual perched upon his shoulder. It’s not possible.
Next to him stood a tall individual, height equal to that of Swain’s, her outline lead him to believe she was female. A cloak, mainly a very dark purple colour with a few patches of a light blue wrapped around her shoulders its hood covering most of her face. Black robes that seemed to fit tightly in some places, while loose in others, gave him an uneasy feeling, like she was form of messenger for death. He spotted only one weapon, a small blade, sheathed, along a very Demacian looking belt.
She removed her hood, revealing a flawlessly perfect face. Penetrating light blue eyes gazed upon his position and her angular face displayed emotion he couldn’t understand. Her pointed ears only accented the beauty that she possessed, despite giving her an otherworldly feel. Whatever she was she was most definitely not human, made clearer by the natural looking light purple and blue hue of hair colour.
The shadow remained silent unsure of how to speak, terrified while at the same time animalistically attracted to the individual. “It seems our friend here wishes to hide” Swain spoke once more, despite wearing a scarf as his usual attire, the shadow was aware he was probably smiling beneath it. “Show him how you hide, Asyria.”
An evil smile appeared across her face, it made her more tempting, yet so much more otherworldly.
He had easily resisted the beauty of Katarina earlier, but this, his mind could not handle. Her eyes began to turn a deep purple hue, penetrating his hiding position and slowly the shadow began to lose its vision clutching at his eyes. “Will that do?” A voice replied cold, but beautiful. Soft, but demanding.
“I believe that will suffice, Asyria. Now let’s see who our little friend here actually is. Would you kindly mind bringing him forth?” Swain replied his voice giving a softness spoken to this individual.
“Step forth, shadowy man, I wish to gaze upon your face” the beautiful voice called. His legs moved forwards on their own accord, his brain screamed for him to stop, but the animal instinct residing in him begged him to move forward and he couldn’t stop himself.
“Well, I believe that to be interesting” Swain stated towards the individual. “My curiosity has been sated. You can dispose of him now, like we agreed. Afterwards, show the arrogant Miss Du Couteau what other skills you posses.”
“My pleasure. His blood will suit my blade nicely” the last sound he heard after the beautiful grace from the voice was the sound of a dagger being unsheathed. Then, there were no more sounds to her for him.
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
The rain was cold upon her fair cheeks. She allowed the heavy downpour to fall upon her head without concern for any after effects; it glistened as it lay perfectly flat against her back and shoulders. Despite the harsh winds she still wore her usual attire, dark leather jacket sleeves still rolled above the elbows, a noble bustier and dark leather trousers. The knives were no exception and they were dotted around her person, ready to be used, and tonight, they would be. Although her body reacted to the chill, she allowed it not to distract her gaze upon the unfolding battle below.
She over looked the cliff where watching silhouettes of armoured individuals, in crimson and black marching towards a sea of shining metal clad in various blues and golds. Banners were dotted amongst the ranks, the crimson holding allegiance to Noxus, while the blues held their alliance with the Demacian dogs. She heard the sounds of impatient men and horses behind her, ready to charge down the slopes of the cliffs, flanking the Demacian army that dare interrupt with Noxian plans. The lines were close to each other now, ready to strike blows in the name of their city state. One banner drew her eye in particular. It was held high by several men marching proudly and bravely near the front, it was the signal of a Crownguard. The Might of Demacia was in this battle.
“It changes a lot; don’t you think Miss Du Couteau?” The voice sneered from behind her, the voice she despised but was sworn to follow for this battle. “His presence is said to make the men around him fight with the power of one hundred!”
“He is an excellent fighter. He inspires courage and fury into his men due to that ability. His legend is what inspires them” she stated in a matter of fact way. She turned to face the individual, his long winter officer robes dry from the rain, protected by a hastily deployed canvas above his head. His face covered by an appropriate scarf with pet bird upon his shoulder. Swain. The tactician and General of Noxus.
“I’ve given the order for General Velfarn to engage him, he is one of our best. Do you think he has what it takes to remove the Might of Demacia’s head?” He said emotionlessly, stepping into the torrential downpour to Katarina’s side, over viewing his deployment strategies.
Katarina remained silent, gazing down as she spotted an armoured figure moving, men seemed to part from him like a divine messenger. Garen.
“The Might of Demacia! Come forth!” bellowed a youthfully primal voice.
Garen stepped through his men, his great sword held strongly in his hand, they parted both in awe and nerves as he stepped toward the front line. They semi circled around him as he made his way to the front, his armour dripping, the sash of Demacia drenched but unwavering in the wind. He remained silent as he faced his provoker, the general’s dark eyes staring into Garen’s, a wide smirk upon the man’s face as he removed his helm from the rest of his ornate dark Noxian armour. He placed a hand upon the golden hilt of his sword, the Noxian soldiers parting like the Demacians, the arena was now set.
The dark figure chuckled, running his hand through his short dark hair before placing it upon the scabbard of the sword. With a swift motion he drew the blade and pointed it in the direction of Garen. “This battle will be over the moment I claim your head.” He sneered, his a youthful deep voice, implying a brutal Noxian upbringing. “Your men will fall to the cowardice that resides within them from not having their parent to hold their hand. The morning will rise in a victorious red of-“
“You speak too much.” Garen raised his sword upward, blocking half of his view with the vertically placed blade, bowing in approval to the duel. “There is only one word that matters. That word is the one that will beat you time and time again.” The Noxus general charged forwards in frustration yelling a feral battle cry, but Garen drowned him out with the word he held in his mind and that word was “DEMACIA!”
Their blades crashed against each other, the men silent around them in awe of their two leaders crossing swords. Thunder masked the clash of metal that the two made in their dextrous attempts to outdo the other. The Noxian swung low, as expected, and Garen with a fine rehearsal of skill countered with an elbow smashing into the general’s arm as he dodged the blow. Velfarn staggered slightly, bringing his blade up to parry the strike that followed from Garen’s counter. The Demacian was unrelenting, while the Noxian’s face was brutal and seething with anger at Garen’s unstoppable strikes, he was the opposite, his face was calm and stern as it always had been in battle.
Aiming low again lunging his sword towards Garen’s thigh, Garen brought his boot crashing down upon the blade and bring the hilt of his sword smashing into his skull, punishing the Noxian for his attempt. The spry general rolled away warily relinquishing his grip from his sword, which remained under the Demacian’s boot, as Garen’s sword struck where his head used to be. The unarmed general showed sign of concern, and his eyes rapidly glanced between his sword and the Might of Demacia.
Garen’s eyes unwavering from Velfarns, he stooped down grasping the sword and threw it at the Noxian. “No excuses” Garen stated his voice as cold as the rain and demanding as the storm. The general caught the sword and instantly lunged forward his rage taking full control, which Garen punished him for with a cut to his arm. His rage did not subside and he continued with blow after savage blow, which seemed to be easily parried by Garen. He attempted every vile trick, and every dirty tactic he was taught to gain an upper hand, but the Demacian general seemed to know exactly how he would strike and how to best counter his dishonourable moves.
Clearly frustrated with his failed attempts he made one quick outlandish swing for Garen’s head. Ducking under the blade and moving past the Noxian warrior he brought his sword across in one mighty arc while bellowing the name of the city he loved above the rage of the thunder. The blade passed through skin, muscle and neck bone, severing the head in one clean swipe. The body fell lifelessly to the floor, sinking into the mud. Garen stepped forward glancing towards the cliff, behind the deployment of Noxus forces. I await you.
“Katarina. Go” Swain commanded. With no response she began to make her way towards the scene of battle.
Garen knocked again getting no response from his first attempt of politely knocking upon the Noxian’s door. He knew his situation was lose/ lose. If he knocked twice, she would goad him for being impatient, if he walked in any way she would detest him for entering without permission, if he walked away she would have grounds to call him a coward. Having little patience for these games, he decided the easiest option would be to knock for a third time.
“Oh yes!” Exclaimed a voice to his side, coming from down the brightly lit corridor. His head patiently turned to look upon her, the woman he wished to spar. Katarina Du Couteau. “I was supposed to meet you here!” Her voice portrayed innocence, but Garen knew she was playing coy.
“You forgot?” Garen questioned, playing to the act as much to his disliking.
“Yes I do apologise, Garen” she said walking up to him and placing a hand upon the plate protecting his chest. He imagined forcefully removing the hand with his own, or better yet his blade, but he allowed her the inappropriate gesture, not wishing to form any hostilities that she obviously tried to generate. “Am I forgiven?” she asked a smirk appearing across her face.
“Yes” he replied as bluntly as possible.
The rest of her body gently touched against his armour as she stepped uncomfortably close to him, deeply invading his personal space. “I am glad.” She replied, her voice soft and tender, her tone matching the inappropriate actions she performed. Her emerald eyes gazed up to him and her smirk had shifted into a natural smile. This was a side to the sinister blade he had yet to see, and he pondered what game she was playing.
She stepped away from him slowly and placed a hand upon the knob of her door twisting it open. She placed an arm into the room gesturing for him to enter. He raised an eyebrow in suspicion and with a stern voice he asked “I thought we were going to-“
“I would like a drink first” she stated interrupting him, her smile not fading from her lips. “I assume you would like one as well?”
“No I am fine, I would like for us to-“
“We will Garen. We will” she said interrupting him again much to his annoyance. “But one drink first is all I ask. How could you deny me that?”
He rolled his eyes in annoyance, but walked past her into her room, with the smirk returning to her face she lightly closed the door behind her.
Her breath had become loud in frustration; her palms ached in pain at the sheer force of her nails digging into them. She remained stood, a fierce look of hatred and betrayal staring at the wooden door her brother had just walked through. She ended the enchanting magic of light that had made her seem almost invisible, her youthful blue eyes did not move from the Noxian door for some time, until eventually, her rage unable to be contained, she turned and stomped down the corridor away from the despicable sight.
She had led him to a very specific place, or so Garen assumed. Any attempt at the trying to investigate where they were heading was quickly dismissed by the red headed beauty he walked next to. He was surprised that she demanded the location of their sparring match, despite him issuing the challenge, but she seemed eager and almost purposeful in her stride to reach there, even at some points breaking out into a small jog. They had passed a quaint little settlement; all the citizens there were friendly and well mannered as though they were untouched by the likes of hardship and even war. Her path also took them through a large plain, with extremely tall grass, matching his shoulder in height, before they reached what appeared to be the final step of their destination, a dense forest.
Animals were alive, chirping, burrowing, crawling through the various undergrowth and vegetation that the forest housed, signalling almost defiance against humankind and their expansive and productive ways. The trees were the freshest of greens, soaking up all the rays of the sun that showered them with attention, and some large fruits hang from some indicating the fruitful summer that had blessed them.
“Why here?” Garen questioned standing a distance behind Katarina who had finally stopped her pace.
“If I said I liked this place, would you believe me?” Her body did not turn to face him, representing her lack of answer to his question.
Garen remained silent, not wishing to break the serenity they shared on the walk here with a sign of distrust and in a way straight rudeness.
“I’m glad you don’t” She said turning around after his long silence, smirk wide upon her face.
Garen barely dodged the blade that whizzed past aimed for his head. He instinctively drew his sword and took up a defensive stance facing his opponent, the Sinister Blade. She stood in the smooth position she had turned, her arm outstretched revealing the path the blade took. “What are you doing?” Garen replied grip tight around his sword.
“Sparring” She grinned.
“I hadn’t realised the spar had begun” he spat showing his disdain towards her lack of honour.
“You’re fighting a Noxian” she stated flatly drawing her main weapons. “You expect me to bow in acceptance? To give you a verbal confirmation? Silly Demacian.”
A smile crept across his face as his head bow slightly. “Of course Katarina. Thank you for the lesson taught.”
“What lesson was that?” She asked playfully stepping to the side.
His face grew cold and stern. “That a Noxian, will always be a Noxian.” Before she could respond he charged forwards signalling the start of their spar.
He was alive, with a fury and passion that Katarina had failed to of spot in recent battles. She ducked and weaved against his swipes, trying for her own lunges and slashes, but Garen parried each one she attempted. She was reminded of their first encounter, the fury, but nobility he fought with then was equally matched by her finesse and her less than honourable tactics, they were perfect in that sense, and the battle was a test of stamina, to see who should falter first.
She spared a moment in between a series of dodges and parries to glance to his eyes, he was a determined man. If it was any other she may have expected the intent to kill, but his eyes did not display such purpose, but just desire to beat her. He brought new techniques she had not seen to this battle, which caused her to lose balance for the faintest of moments. It was enough however for Garen to capitalize, forcing one of the blades out of her hands; she dodged from another strike before fully regaining her balance.
The spar continued for a long time, and the Sun behind them began to set on the horizon, ready to disappear behind the long grass. Neither had achieved a kill hit yet, and they fought equally even with Katarina’s slight disadvantage of losing her traditional fighting style of two blades. Finally they both struck simultaneously, Katarina spotting his intent viciously changed the path of her lunge towards his hand. His sword struck her blade and sent it singing through the air, landing behind her, while her pirouetted leg had struck his sword, forcing it to the side and out of Garen’s hands, an unexpected and bold move by the sinister blade.
They stood for a while, out of breath and unarmed gazing at each others eyes. The smirk was still wide upon her face, while he still retained his usual stern features. “You were alive with passion” she finally spoke between breaths. “I forgot how fun it was to face you.”
“I only desired to see if I could beat you. Apparently I need more training” he stated coldly.
The smirk faded from her face and a sign of annoyance became apparent, almost to Garen’s surprise. “Is that all I am? A way of testing your abilities?”
“You are the finest opponent I have ever had to face. I have never defeated you like I have so many others.” He turned away from her, picking up his sword and sheathing it with a fluid motion. “What else would you be Noxian?”
Angered by his words she naturally went for a dagger at her hip, but something stayed her hand. She just watched his back, moving away from her as he made his way into the long grass back towards the league, silhouetted by the setting sun.
The rain continued its torrential downpour as Katarina stared at her enemy, the Might of Demacia, Garen. The sound of clashing moments ago was covered by an eerily timed thunder clap, their weapons now lying behind the other. Their battle had been long as with all their engagements. Despite the harsh conditions neither relented and neither had swayed. Garen had many small cuts upon where Katarina held the advantage, but Katarina also held wounds of her own, fewer in number, but fiercer in their deadliness. The soldiers watched in awe at what the two would do now; they formed a circle around them with enough space for ten men to fight in with ease, showing their wish to be distanced from the two champions.
“It seems we are at a stalemate once again” she replied between breaths, smirk barely alive upon her face.
He closed his eyes for a moment, bowing his head slightly appearing to be deep in thought. The smirk faded from her face and she readied herself defensively. “DEMACIA!” he cried as his eyes burst open revealing the fire of passion, like a stream of flames that originated at his heart. He lunged forwards with a clenched fist aimed straight for her. She nimbly tumbled to the side under the lunge bringing her leg up aimed towards his stomach with the spikes upon her boots meaning to impale the Might of Demacia. He lowered his body and shoved his shoulder against her leg avoiding the spikes causing her to spin upon the balance of her other foot, and she instinctively leaned backwards allowing another clenched fist to pass over her.
Their dodges and attempted blows carried on for many minutes, each proving to be too agile. Katarina had hit a few on various points of his anatomy but they did not deter him from striking back. She had taken one vicious blow to her shoulder from a vengeful strike causing momentarily a sea of horrific pain to wash over her. She shook it off and continued her assault and he weaved and placed his body for the blows to impact areas where he could brunt the damage.
Between the strikes she sent him a small smile, which he returned instantly. “You know” he stated, loudly enough that she barely caught it. “If you were a Demacian woman. I wouldn’t hesitate to take you as my wife.”
Her smile grew as she ducked under another blow aimed for her face. “You wouldn’t want me if I was Demacian” she replied playfully. “You only love me because I’m Noxian” the smirk appearing across her face as she re-established her defensive stance.
“No” he stated the smile also widening upon his face. “It doesn’t matter where you come from Kat.” He began to move forwards fists clenched ready to make another assault upon her. “As long as you remain you, I don’t think I could ever not!” His fist moved through the air with a great force aimed at Katarina’s face which she managed to duck under, while delivering a vicious elbow to his back.
“I never pictured you for a romantic” she replied sending a fist at Garen’s face, which he grabbed and squeezed with his strength. Through anguish she sent another blow his way with her free hand, which he also grabbed and applied his strength to. The smirk grew wider upon her face as she slid a foot behind her ready to send it flying forwards. He instantly pushed her backwards, giving distance between them both.
“You wouldn’t” he whispered a grin upon his face.
“Hold nothing back, remember?” she replied the smirk reaching its usual full bloom.
He nodded and surged forwards, and in unison she did the same. Their fists impacted upon each other’s face harshly, to the soldiers who watched in amazement they seemed to be the final blows, but the two still stood standing, both wary and wobbly on their feet. He stumbled forwards, as did she. She placed her left hand upon his shoulder, but brought her right up rapidly towards his face, but he also managed to bring his right hand up towards her stomach, causing a winding blow. They both staggered backwards, collapsing on their knees in front the other.
She looked down at her right hand and clenched it tight, eyes meeting his. She spotted his right hand, clenched tightly as well ready for the next blow. They both simultaneously swung, their fists impacting with each other’s cheek, both mighty blows, causing serious damage to the other in the form of blood trickling from wounds. Next came the left hands of them both impacting the other side of their faces and with a few lasts breaths Garen fell forwards upon his stomach, followed a minute amount of time later by Katarina, landing on top of him.
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
“Akali, would you mind leaving us?” Lux stated through gritted teeth staring intently at her brother who just approached with his usual meal upon his plate. Garen’s eyebrow rose, in an equal amount of annoyance and surprise. The kinkou bowed her head and began her departure before giving Garen a curious glance which he ignored. “Sit down” she spat, her eyes were fiery, but also contained a sense of sadness that Garen had seen in the past.
He offered no argument or resistance and took a seat opposite her, placing his food down in front of him, but not moving to remove any of its plentiful bounty. He gazed back at her, waiting for the obvious onslaught of rage that would be hitting him soon for whatever reason. It was a moment of intensity before she spoke; her eyes grew narrower the more she stared at him. “What. Do you think. You are doing?” She asked her voice deceptively calm, possibly because it was spat through clenched teeth.
He remained silent for a while looking back at her, not giving any thought to the accusation she just threw. “Sister. I assume you are going to tell me what I am being accused of.” His voice was stern, but quiet, not wanting for any of the other champions or summoners to hear his or her words.
Her eyes lit open in fiery anger, like Garen had just poked a snake and it was now ready to retaliate in full force. “I told you to stay away from her! I knew she would poison you!” Her voice was loud, uncontrolled and most of all, enraged.
He took a few glances from the corners of his eyes at some of the summoners and champions now turning towards them. He caught Twisted Fate looking over, a slight smirk upon his face at the obvious sibling battle that was about to ensue. Irelia who rarely visited these halls gave a concerning look for a split second before returning to her meal.
“The sinister blade of Noxus has not poisoned me” Lux scoffed in interruption, her face being removed from anger to show a sneer before Garen gave her one glance of annoyance at interjecting him setting her back to anger. “If I wish to spar with her, then that is my business. I do it to improve myself. I do not need your permission to do so, Luxanna.”
“Then why were you in her room!?” Lux had now lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. Despite her anger and hatred at the possible reasoning behind it, she knew it would seem weak of Demacia for her to scream that to the heavens. Due to the lack of raised voices most of the onlookers turned their heads away, their interest clearly faded.
Garen hesitated, realising what she was accusing him of now, but the fact she was aware of that came to dominate his mind, nagging at his tongue. “How would you know that?” He asked his voice still stern, but slight frustration cutting at the strength Lux had obviously mustered for this conversation.
“I... I was waiting there” she admitted her head bowed slightly in shame. “Katarina said you were going to visit her in the afternoon. I wanted to see if she was telling the truth. Then you went... inside her room, so I left. She seemed...” she paused wiping away tears from her eyes. “very affectionate towards you.”
Garen again paused for thought. “It appears you have been deceived, sister” his voice was cold and harsh, showing a disappointment to her which again cut through the courage she had built, fading its barrier so now it was nothing more now than an ethereal imagination. “I pondered her inappropriateness at the time, but now I believe she knew you would be watching. That is probably the reason behind it. She had her drink then we went to spar as I asked her the day earlier. I think it was an attempt of her to get you this upset.” Garen stood up, glancing down at the full plate of food that remained untouched. “It appears I must have words with a certain Noxian” he stated calmly as he walked away, but Lux wiping away her tears noticed his fists were clenched tight, in almost certain rage.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone, someone he did not recognise but could not help to notice. She was beautiful in a very otherworldly kind of way. Her hair was a mixture of a light blues and purples, her light blue eyes graced his short glance and a smile widened across her face and his eyes quickly returned to the path he walked, in between champions and summoners alike. Something wasn’t right with that woman, she was reminiscent of the likes of Kayle and Morganna with her inhuman attraction, but she was obviously not from the same land. She also wreaked of an aura that was undoubtedly evil, that only a few champions seemed to posses in the league, but Garen definitely felt it on her.
Growing bored of the usual place of meeting and the darkness that embraced them in this grand library she let out a dissatisfied sigh. “Is there a problem?” The shadowy figure asked moving into existence into one of the corners, Katarina’s gaze landed upon it, the jaded expression clear upon her face. She shook her head in an unenthused way before leaning herself against one of the book cases. She stared expectantly at the shadow for a short while before his cold voice replied. “There is still no word of him. However it seems the plans have changed. The Crownguards are no longer the target. The crown is the main goal for them.”
Katarina paused staring intently at the shadow before replying. “That seems a bit rash and almost rushed. It doesn’t appear to be like him.”
“Do not forget who leads him by his shoulder, she isn’t as wise as he is” the shadow replied.
“Maybe not, but she is the mere creator. He is the executioner. It is his judgement that is making these plans. Are you certain of this?” Katarina asked unfolding her arms and placing one hand upon a shelf behind her and lightly placing another by her hip gently caressing on her blades.
“I am quite sure; it was discussed in the last meeting. She spoke to us-“ the voice was interrupted by a brief sound of a hastily thrown object and the loud scream of a feminine individual as one of Katarina’s blades flew through the air impacting the shadow spilling red crimson to the floor. A figure moved forwards, wearing a Noxian black cloak and one of Katarina’s daggers embedded in the shoulder. The figure grabbed at the cloak, removing it completely revealing a beautiful feminine form. Another cloak was apparent this one certainly not Noxian, strange in design and colours. Vivid purple eyes glared at the Sinister Blade form beneath the hood and a few strands of light blue and purple hair hung into view. The figure was angry this was clear upon her angular face and she ripped the dagger out of her shoulder revealing the cut in the strange cloth that apparently kept her dignity. She reached for a dagger that was sheathed upon a very Demacian looking belt and dropped Katarina’s to the floor.
“You... Elzanare!” The woman spat readying herself defensively.
Katarina raised a curious eyebrow. “Who are you?”
The figure gently closed her eyes taking a deep inhale and seductively opened them again revealing now tempting light blue eyes. “The short time I had to study him, wasn’t enough for me to get him perfect it seems. What gave me away?”
“If I’m honest, absolutely nothing. I was just angry, you gave yourself away” Katarina’s mouth widened into a smirk. “Now I repeat” Katarina asked her tone stern and slightly aggressive, smirk fading amongst the concern. “Who are you?”
The woman stood staring at Katarina for some time, she seemed be to analysing her, but for what purpose was unclear. “I am Asyria” she eventually replied, her lips parted as if there was more, but they slowly graced each other again.
“Where is he?”
“Dead” Asyria quickly replied, a satisfied smile creeping across her face.
“Why?” Katarina asked drawing two knives rapidly, alerting Asyria to the threat although her posture did not change.
“The avian intellect wished it so” Asyria stated eyeing up Katarina’s new friends in the palm of her hands.
“You work for me now” Katarina stated taking a defensive step forward ignoring her last comment. “I can pay you any amount you require.”
“Your concept of wealth is still something I do not understand. As is this league. I have no need for payment” Asyria replied also taking a defensive step forward.
“Then what do you want?” Katarina asked taking two daring steps forward so only four more spaced the two.
She did not answer right away and instead gazed deeply into Katarina’s emeralds. “I want many things. None of which you can offer me.”
“So why do you work for this ‘avian intellect’?” Katarina asked debating whether to take one more step forward.
“He offered me a way into this so called league” she said playfully lunging forward three steps allowing almost no distance between the two. She stood a great deal taller than Katarina and looked down upon her raising her blade to her chest height and Katarina reacted defensively raising hers as well.
“Then you know we cannot kill or maim each other now, without serious repercussions” Katarina’s mouth had once again widened into a smirk, it was unclear whether informing the rules to Asyria was the cause or whether it was the idea of breaking these rules.
“Then perhaps... What was it that Demacian said... a spar?” Asyria’s seductive smile also crept into a small smirk.
Katarina stepped away from the strange female placing her knives back to where they belonged. “I have no need, I’m sure we will meet on the fields of justice soon enough and I can exact bloody vengeance many times over. Until that time, I advise you to stay out of Noxian affairs” she gave an obvious look up and down Asyria’s body before turning away from her. “Whatever you are.”
The doors slammed open, light from the corridors bursting through into the darkness so much so that the two females were dazzled slightly and involuntarily reacted to the brightness that had invaded. In the doorway stood a large shining male figure, fully armoured and wrath upon his face, it was the Demacian’s own, Garen Crownguard. “Katarina” he stated loudly, although not yelled, stepping into one of the leagues many libraries.
Katarina stared back at the approaching angered hulk of Garen, his face anger and aggression, but somehow still held his usual stern military visage, his paces, his movements they were furious and alive. His sword remained sheathed upon his back as he stepped forwards, the doors fixing themselves and slowly shutting behind him. Katarina’s gaze upon him was so intent that she failed to spot Asyria creeping away into the once again growing darkness.
“We need to talk” Garen stated looking down no more than five paces in front of her.
“They are in position?” The regal voice spoke to him as he held a small pulsating purple gem in his talon like grip.
“Yes” he replied. “In a few moments. It will have begun.”
“This an ingenious plan conducted by you Jericho, I couldn’t have expected any less.”
“Thank you, Matron.”
Part 11 (NEWEST)
All he heard was a continuous dripping sound coming from somewhere outside his cell. The drip was out of sight, but kept reminding him of its presence in a frustrating fashion. Sweat was upon his brow from an earlier attempt at using his pure strength to break out of this magically enhanced prison. Dark stone surrounded him, with one locked iron door covered in strange magical runes between him and freedom.
Murder is a serious crime. One he didn’t know the repercussions of concerning the league. A Crownguard, committing cold bloody murder.
“Ridiculous!” Garen seethed through clenched teeth. They had removed his sword, but he still wore his armour proudly, occasionally wiping away any dirtying that occurred for there was little else to do.
“Calm down Garen” she replied her calm voice echoing through the small gaps the iron door had left in its frame.
“This is your fault snake!” He spat back at her in rage. “Some Noxian scheme I let myself get caught in and they apparently consider you expendable enough to keep you locked here as well!”
“It’s not of pure Noxian design. They want me out of the way as well” she countered the anger clear in her voice. “Believe me when I tell you it affects us both. Luckily for you, I have prepared a way for us to get out.”
“Why would you have such a thing prepared?” he asked his voice changing back to its regular stern manner removing himself from the single bench, the only decoration of the cell.
“Because I assumed something like this may happen when trying to get you on my side” she replied her voice returning to calm again.
There was a long pause before Garen had to ask “why am I here, Katarina?”
The doors slammed shut behind him and her gaze did not break focus from his. “What is it Garen?” Katarina asked coyly. “Do you wish to spar again perhaps?”
“Enough.” He replied fiercely his hand slicing its way through the air in front of him. “I want to know game you are playing. I want you to know. Whatever it is. I will put a stop to it.”
She looked upon him, her eyes gave a hint of sadness before they burst into life with a passionate fury. “The problem you Demacians’ have is that you are so blind!” She yelled marching forwards and prodding him in the chest with a slender finger. He reacted defensively, angrily grabbing her arm and moving it away, leaving her in a moment of shock at his rage. Her eyes stared into his briefly as the grasp upon her wrist grew tighter. She let out a small sigh and dropped her head slightly. “I need you, Garen” she eventually said softly.
He relinquished the grip upon her arm and turned away from her. “I said enough. I will be watching you since you are sticking true to your Noxian morals and schemes.” There was a long pause, she thought of retaliating with a comment, but realised he had not the intention to leave otherwise he would of done so already. “Stay away from Luxanna.”
Katarina opened her mouth to argue, but realised there was a strange sensation in the air. The smell of blood was quite prominent coming from somewhere in the room, Garen had yet to notice, but he did seem to react as though something wasn’t quite right. Her eyes darted around and suddenly she had felt for the first time in a long time, foolish. Her spy, the one she always conversed with in this location wasn’t here; he was dead, murdered by the so called Asyria, which meant no one was aware. She had always trusted him to be aware, and that trust made her momentarily blind to the threat.
Garen eventually had the tinge hit his nostrils as he reached for the door. He spun on the spot to face Katarina with an angered, but slightly confused look upon his face. “What is this?” He questioned sternly, his eyes glancing around the room and back to Katarina who seemed to be staring at something quite intently, but whatever it was, it did not shock her.
A body of a summoner lay in a darker part of the library hidden amongst a pile of books only revealed now by a trail of blood that flowed out, staining the carpeting and the books in red crimson.
“What is this!?” Garen repeated more fiercely reaching for his blade. Katarina merely rolled her eyes at his action while taking a couple of steps back.
“It seems they have made their move already” she said calmly. Her eyes slowly trailed from the body towards his. “Be prepared.”
He remained silent for a moment before swiftly drawing his sword in one quick motion. He placed it steadily in one hand. “You have committed a foul offence, Katarina Du Couteau. And I shall bring you to justice.”
She shook her head and gave an exasperated wave of her left hand. “I’m afraid that’s not what is going to happen.”
The wooden doors splintered open in a fierce display of power, the shards of timber spread past them both, but didn’t impact either of them and in the once ornate looking doorway stood ten summoner mages, fully robed and armed ready for battle, arms extended in a strange magical stance, ready to tap into energies to unleash if need be.
“Garen Crownguard! Katarina Du Couteau! Stand down immediately!” The centre mage roared. As he turned Garen’s eyes narrowed at the person who stood proud above all in the back of the group of summoners. The Tactician of Noxus. Swain. He gave a small smirk to them both and the Crow upon his shoulder tilted its head mockingly at the two in the darkness of the library.
“I told you” Swain spoke calmly gesturing to Garen’s drawn blade. “They were fighting, they already killed one summoner.”
“Outrageous!” Garen replied raising his sword and pointing an accusing finger at the tall Noxian General.
“Garen, I said stand down immediately!” The summoner roared once more, his voice alive with an unnatural arcane deepness. The other summoners entered the room and circled the Noxian Assassin and Demacian General, some fanned out deeper into the library. Garen looked fiercely from summoner to summoner before viciously turning to face Katarina.
He seethed, not knowing the words to bring to his mouth. He wanted to yell defiance, he wanted to lunge for Katarina, and then destroy Swain. The mages would react, and they seemed innocent in this, mislead into believing he had committed a form of injustice. Katarina looked back at him, her eyes betrayed her thoughts involuntarily, they were filled with sadness and failure, but layered underneath there was a deep rage and a desire to kill. She slowly placed her arms behind her head and began glancing from summoner to summoner, eyeing them up like she was testing the waters to see how deep it was.
“I found him!” One of the mages spoke out. “Looks like they tried to hide him!”
“They did!” a sobbing female voice called out. “I saw the whole thing!” A mage appeared holding another summoner who bled from a wound in her shoulder. “They attacked each other! Killed Akorus, and wounded me! I hid and then they started talking about how to hide Akorus’ body!” She began to cry, wailing like a terrified orphan, but the illusion did not fool Katarina, she knew exactly who it was.
“I found a blade. Blood upon it” Called out another summoner. “Looks like one of Miss Du Couteaus.”
“We are placing you both under arrest” the lead summoner once again spoke authoritively. “Until we can get to the bottom of this. So Garen please stand down.”
Garen shook his head slowly and let go of his grasp on his weapon. He placed his hands behind his head in a similar fashion. He felt anger, but he knew lashing out would be the worst action to take right now. He wondered how much of this was planned by Swain, and how much was planned by Katarina. He wondered if she was sacrificing herself in a sense to pin this crime she had committed on him as well. He guessed the summoner was also Noxian and had been briefed on the situation before hand, it seemed Lux was right. “I’m innocent” he stated factually in his usual stern voice. “I will live to see justice be done. I swear, upon my name as General Garen Crownguard, you Noxians have not defeated me.”
“If that is the case Garen” the lead summoner began a sense of sympathy in his voice. “Then I’m sure our investigation will reveal that to be true, for now, you will be placed in holding until we discover such facts.”
Garen gave an angered nod, how could those charged with the protection of Valoran be so blind to a cunning Noxian plan? He also became aware however that, it would not take long for the league to discover the truth, especially with their magic available. So what was the true aim of this? He turned to Katarina, who began her pace, after setting down the remainder of her knives that covered the floor, hands upon her head as she gracefully stepped towards the door two mages flanking her.
Garen began his pace, two mages carefully eyeing him making sure no sudden movements came from the Demacian General. He seethed but was confident that justice would eventually be served.
“The Prince?” her beautiful voice asked.
“Yes” Swain replied his talon like grasp holding a finely made tea cup, drinking the hot beverage between replies.
Swain nodded as he placed the cup to his lips, taking a small sip of the strong tea contained within.
“The Crownguard and Du Couteau siblings?”
“The ones we need to concern ourselves with, Matron” Swain replied confidently. “However we must act swiftly. It will not take them long to figure out the truth.”
Her heels echoed in the sensually lit chamber, coloured in various shades of purples, with the occasional mirror placed what appeared to be randomly throughout. She stepped forth into Swain’s sight. The majestic, the beautiful, LeBlanc.
“Then it is time for the final act to begin in this play of... ‘tragedy’” she smiled amused by the implied sarcasm.
Swain raised his eyebrows in joy of her statement and in agreement while giving a toast with his tea
There was a long pause before Garen had to ask “why am I here, Katarina?”
A smirk graced her face in a usual fashion.
“Because I need your help, Garen.”
Because you are in my web, Crownguard.
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
i must say VERY well done, you keep the readers intently focused on the story and you tell it very well. ++1
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
I don't like how Garen, my favourite champion, is a clueless dolt and not the legendary champion he's supposed to be. No way he'd make it as a demacian hero if he can't even focus on the fight.
Decently written though, but oh well. *Turns away from Fanfic*
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
“We have decided to move you for now Miss Du Couteau” said a male voice, waking Garen from his light sleep. For a few days they had been kept here, they were fed and well cared for considering their prisoner status. Garen himself caused no trouble for the summoners that tended to him realising any attempts of escape would only be energy wasted, that and the summoners here were innocent, he had to just wait until the truth was discovered. Katarina on the other hand was making herself quite the nuisance, somehow she always managed to obtain a sharp object out of somewhere and wield it threateningly and defiantly towards one of the summoners that entered her cell.
“For what purpose?” Garen heard her demand. He imagined the look of pure annoyance on her face, her brows furrowed, arms crossed with a deathly stare. A terrifyingly beautiful sight.
“We have decided to separate you until the interviews have been conducted” the summoner replied, his tone neutral not allowing her to hear any fear that he may of possibly held.
“Fine” she spat, her anger being displayed perfectly in her tone. Garen remained silent; they had barely spoken over the few days, mainly for his desire for them not to converse. He gave a lot of thought to what had occurred, Swain was clearly plotting something, his timing there was too perfect. However how could of Katarina known he would of turned up then to face her for manipulating his sister? Why had neither of them spotted the body before? What was she even doing in that library that late at night anyway? So many questions, but the answers eluded him. He pondered for a while that maybe he had been caught up in some sort of Noxian conflict, and that he had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This theory had some fine holes however, such as Swain’s lack of surprise on seeing him there, his quickness to blame both Katarina and Garen on the murder; it all seemed too well orchestrated. Something else picked at his brain, like a small nibbling insect, eluding every opportunity of capture, she claimed that she needed him. For what purpose? They were practically sworn enemies, sure he respected her greatly as a warrior, but she was Noxian. Untrustworthy, barbaric and unsavoury. The qualities that separated them from the Demacians. However, for some reason he could not remove the idea of wanting to help her from his mind. Eventually he managed to justify it with crude logic. ‘She’s the finest warrior I’ve ever faced. The one opponent I have yet to defeat. I will be the one to end her and no other.’
The sounds of clanging metal signalled the closing of Katarina’s cell door and footsteps that gradually got fainter moved away down the corridor. His armour was neatly stacked in one of the cells, it was far too bulky to allow him any sleep and so he had carefully placed it in the cleanest corner. Deciding any more thoughts generated from a tired state would be useless, he turned his head and slowly drifted back off into a light sleep.
“Garen!” the voice whispered again, waking him from his sleep. He bolted upright facing the direction of the whisper. Through the slide in the iron door he saw a face, the beautiful but stern features of Katarina stared to him, her eyes held a small sense of sadness, but also a sense of longing, which gave a slight tingling to Garen’s spine before he quickly approached the edge of the cell, but keeping caution in his steps.
“What are you doing Katarina?” he demanded. “You’re supposed to be locked away like myself.”
“There’s no time” she hastily replied glancing to her left and right putting her face up against the slot in the door. Her lips seemed to tremble, in what Garen could only describe as anxiousness. “There’s something I have to give you, because I don’t think I will get another chance.”
Garen gave her a quizzical, but highly distrusting look. She merely replied with an expression signifying her urgency for him to come closer and so he stepped forward his face quite close to the slot. She placed a slender hand through the slot and gently tugged at the cloth around his neck softly pulling him forward. His lips were somewhat forced against hers, truth be told however he could of easily resisted, but something in his mind told him not to. Her lips were soft the complete opposite of the savagery she was capable of, the small movements she created were pleasing and gentle.
His eyes were open, looking upon the beautiful face of Katarina, her eyes however remained closed in a rush of passion. After a long tender embrace of lips she parted from him, her dazzling emeralds staring at him. She gave a weak smile before shutting the slot. He heard no sounds of her moving away, but he assumed she had done so, her stealth one of the finest in all of Valoran.
He moved back over to the bench where he slept, a confused look dominating the otherwise stern expression he usually wore. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed the passion she had gifted him with, but there was something odd about it, something that didn’t feel quite right, but he couldn’t place it. He wanted to believe he was surprised by the Sinister Blade’s boldness, but it seemed completely in her character in a sense. What mainly played continuously in his mind were her words, “I don’t think I will get another chance.” She believed that death for her was a possibility. Things began to make less sense, she was in a league prison, probably one of the safest places to be in all of Valoran, what did she fear? Why and how did she even escape? Why would one of her last acts be sharing a kiss with him?
He shook his head, anger growing inside of him. He was very sick of not knowing. Now, he demanded answers, he sat upright, waiting for either the blade of Noxus to return, which he doubted she would, or for a summoner of the league to arrive to begin the interview process.
Her steps were silent, no sound of the leather boots she wore made any noise against the cold stone floor. Her beautiful long red hair whipped as she checked her left and right diving into a small room, its shadowy darkness embracing her as she stepped inside.
She had little time to react before she heard a female voice call out. “Were you seen?” She spun round, seeing the small framed woman who had disturbed the silence of this small storeroom. Her long black hair tied into two bands, her green emeralds staring at the new comer.
“No” Katarina replied, cautiously eyeing the young petite Ionian female, the one known as Akali, the Fist of Shadow. “Why are you helping me?”
The ninja stared at her, no sense of emotion gaining access to her expression. “For you hold one part of balance. Without you the scales will topple, which is something the Kinkou and my duty cannot allow. Did you come straight here?
Katarina paused spotting her normal effects close by, placed neatly upon a large barrel. “Yes” Katarina lied, her usual almost perfect deception being spotted by an exasperated expression upon Akali’s face. “I stopped at Garen’s cell first” Katarina confessed. “Is that a problem?”
“It shouldn’t be a long as you weren’t seen. I had my first conversation with the one known as Talon today, he said he is going to meet you as soon as you leave here. I trust you are in safe hands after that?” Akali asked, there seemed to be no actual care for the well being of Katarina in her voice.
“Yes. How much do you know?” Katarina asked stepping forwards towards her knives, belt and swords. The ninja stepped forwards as well passing her, heading towards the exit.
“I know that Noxus isn’t as strong as you would like it to be. It’s surprising how the strongest objects in appearance can fracture easier than glass.” Akali stated before swiftly leaving the room.
Katarina let out a small sigh before preparing herself mentally, ready for the time ahead.
“Mr Crownguard, please be seated” an elderly summoner said to him gesturing for a chair opposite the table behind which he sat. Several mages stood by ready to act should they need be, but Garen knew their presence was a precaution, he knew he had no rash actions to make. Garen took the seat, sternly staring back at the summoner. “Please understand, Mr Crownguard, this is all formality. You were at the scene of the crime, and therefore you will have to be questioned. We will discover the truth and I very much doubt you will be held after we do.”
Garen nodded in understanding awaiting the barrage of questions. Instead the summoner stood up and placed a hand upon Garen’s head, he didn’t try to resist as the summoner’s frail cold hand touched his forehead. Garen for a moment went completely black.
He relived the moments that had brought him here. Storming into the library to demand an explanation from Katarina. Them conversing. The stench of blood. Katarina’s face looking upon the body. The mages bursting down the door. The false accusation from Swain. The other summoner crying out, backing up Swain’s accusation.
His eyes burst open, he breathed heavily and he looked with a slight sense of shock at the summoner. This was different. He was a champion in the fields of justice, sharing his mind with many summoners, but what he just experienced was more like intrusion than actual an invitation for sharing. “What was that?” he asked after regaining the breath to his lungs.
“So Garen lets start at the beginning. You were heading to that library to speak with Miss Du Couteau?” The summoner began ignoring his question. “For what purpose?”
“What did you just do?” Garen insisted, glancing towards the other three summoners who remained stationary.
The old man let out a small sigh and said. “It’s part of the interview process. We find out the truth in many various ways. Please answer my questions Garen, they will help to solve this mystery. Garen gave a small nod and began slowly retelling the memory of events as best he could. Exactly like the memory he just relived.
After Garen had finished the mage stared thoughtfully for some time. “Thank you Garen” he eventually spoke. “We will next speak to Miss Du Couteau, thank you for your helpfulness.” With that another summoner rushed into the room heading straight for the elderly man, and whispered something Garen could not catch. “Return Mr Crownguard to his cell immediately. In twenty four hours, bring him back to me and we will see him released. The rest of you come with me.”
With that the mages quickly left the room, leaving the mage who had brought the apparent urgent news. The mage stared at him for a short while before stepping close, uncomfortably so. “I am to be returned to the cell?” he asked filling the little gap between them with a question.
The male summoner smirked. “Not exactly no” he replied with a very feminine beautiful voice. His eyes turned a garish hue of purple and suddenly stood before him was the beautiful female, who reeked of evil that he had seen in the dining halls a few days before. Her hair fell from the summoner’s hood, its light blue and purple strands falling delicately onto her chest. “We are going elsewhere” said the woman, unbeknownst to him, known as Asyria.
“And who in Demacia’s name are you?” Garen demanded voice raised high, readying himself. Although he was unarmed he knew he had the potential to do serious damage with his pure strength and he intended to, should she become hostile. He stared with a look of anger upon his face at the female dressed in summoner’s clothing, clearly not belonging to her. She smirked back and his lips parted in disgust. She was undeniably beautiful, there were no flaws to show her humanity, but that made her hideous, at least in Garen’s eyes.
“My name is Asyria, Mr Crownguard. Believe it or not I’m here to help” she stated calmly her voice beautiful, but also betraying its alluring nature. Her thin eyebrow rose playfully, as she saw him react with distrust. “You want to find her right? The red head? I know where she is going, and I know what plans there are against you.”
He clenched his teeth fiercely and powerfully stepped forward close to her, she instinctively backed off seeing the anger building up in his eyes. “You will tell me where she is, you will tell me what plans are against me, and by Demacia’s light you will get me my sword!” his words were so demanding and strong that she faltered slightly in her stance, looking back at him with curious eyes.
“Swain has a plot-“
“A Noxian plot? What form of foul injustice are the Noxians planning this time?” Garen interrupted, much to her annoyance.
A pause briefly silenced the room as she stared at him further, he gathered normal men may have backed down, probably apologised to her for the interruption, but he felt no fear from the deathly gaze she gave him. “As far as I’m aware, it’s not of exact Noxian design, at least of the powers in charge” she began returning to a calm temperament. “Swain is trying to remove certain people, to get them out of the way for what he is referring to as ‘the finale.’ You and Katarina are two of those people. Some people he has already successfully removed from the equation.”
“I do not know, I didn’t particularly pay much attention to those details because they really didn’t interest me” she replied checking her fingers displaying her lack of interest in that matter. “All I know is what I was told to do, that and they are after a crown... or he keeps mentioning a crown” she gave her shoulders a light shrug showing her lack of interest in this topic also.
“Why were you helping them? Why are you helping me now?” he asked giving her an intense stare. “You don’t seem like a Noxian.”
“That’s because I’m not, Mr Crownguard. I come from somewhere far that has no interest in your little city state feud. I was helping Swain because he got me into the league. I had to kill someone Katarina knew, I then had to pretend to be a summoner as well as that person for a while, framing you both as murderers. Now that I’ve done it, I owe nothing to him. Hence why I can help you” she said her smirk growing wider and seemingly more tempting, but Garen just became more repulsed.
“You didn’t answer why you were helping me. Why should I even consider trusting you?” His stare did not falter as she playfully moved closer to him.
“Because I know where she is going. And I also know that’s where you want to be. I also know why they got rid of you both, so Mr Crownguard, you have no choice but to trust me” she moved in closer to him so that her nose was inches away from his, she matched his height, which he found slightly strange, not many could do that and also that it happened so abruptly, as though when disguised she somehow seemed smaller. “As for why I am helping. There is something I wish to have from you.”
A small breeze flitted through the open window breaking the silence that engulfed them both. The evening seemed chilly and the setting sun did not stop Asyria’s light blue eyes from sparkling intently. He let in a deep breath before asking “what is it you want from me?”
“It’s not a big thing really and I promise it’s all-“
“What is it?” he insisted again his voice raised slightly.
“A kiss” she replied. His face revealed his disliking towards the idea, no, disliking is too small of a word to describe the anger and hatred he had for that idea. His fists clenched tight as he stared at, wanting to strike out for even suggesting that. “I want you to kiss me. The way you would kiss her, and before you act coy, you know who I mean. You do that, and I will take you to her.”
“You witch, I will see you punished for this” he said sternly his voice cold and devoid of everything but hatred.
“I said a kiss, you don’t have to talk dirty to me” her eyebrow again playfully rapidly rose and fell as she cautiously moved her head forward so that their noses touched. “It’s not so difficult is it?” She continued to move forward gently brushing her small nose against the side of his. She placed her body purposefully against him, no armour could save him from her warmth, and slowly she placed her lips against his.
Given the situation he tried his best to give a satisfying kiss, but he knew he was distracted by his anger and hatred towards this creature. She pulled away seemingly unsatisfied with a clear look of annoyance upon her perfect features. Realising he failed he gently reached out and grabbed her wrist as she walked away, he brought the one person he was doing this for to the front of his mind and focused upon it. Her red hair, her beautiful green eyes, the scar upon her face and that taunting and smug expression. The softness of her lips and the tenderness of her face when they kissed before. It was all the focus he needed and he became aware that he wished it was Katarina’s lips who he wanted to embrace now.
Pulling away from him with a sensual gasp of air she looked deep in his eyes. “That was more than satisfactory. You can keep going if you-“
“Take me to my sword and armour. Then take me to her. I swear on my honour that if you try anything I do not approve of I will cut you down” he gave her one glance signifying his dedication to that statement, of which she retreated to a safer couple of paces back.
“Very well Garen. We better get moving quickly, I told them about the red head’s escape to distract them” she hastily headed for the door and he followed behind. His eyes watched her every movement to make sure her actions were honest.
“Why did he get rid of us both?” Garen asked quietly checking down each corridor as he passed to where she led him.
A small subtle laugh was her only response and just as he was about to demand the answer she replied. “He was scared you would start working together, to bring him down. As far as I know that is something he really doesn’t want.”
“Why would Swain think that I would help a Noxian with Noxian affairs?” He scoffed that the supposed great tactician believed that idea to be a possibility.
Suddenly she stopped moving and spun to look at him with a confused look upon her angular face. “You really think this ploy stops at Noxus? I don’t know all the facts, and I barely know Swain. However he seems the type to want... it all. I’m pretty sure that is something both you and Katarina do not want, for the sake of the city states you claim to love. So, is it really that unfeasible that you two may work together?” After seeing the look of doubt upon Garen’s face, she smirked once more and continued her pace.
Those words; “I know Noxus isn’t as strong as it appears to be” kept repeating in Katarina’s mind. She wondered how many others knew if the female ninja, Akali knew. Indeed these were troubling times for her beloved city state, not that she would ever admit it to anyone. Division isn’t strength, its weakness and it had to be culled. For that was the true way of Noxus, only the strongest survived, only the strongest had the right to rule. She was going to be ****ed if Swain and that ancient harlot were going to claim the right to rule with a few cheap tricks and mass manipulation.
The vow had been made, Katarina would make them fall. Her father taught her the strength she needed and now the intention was to use it. No one could stop her or get in her way, but to achieve this goal it meant working with one of the more unsavoury characters of Noxus, one who has pledged his service only to her father. The Blade’s Shadow, Talon. They had only a few things in common, they both loyally served her father and their current mission entailed discovering his whereabouts and the fact they were experts with the blade.
“You are early” the male stated coldly as she entered the darkened alley of the quiet town. She had only been here once before and that was merely passing through to take Garen sparring to the forest nearby. The streets were quiet and dark with the lone patrolman out and about making sure no one was up to anything nefarious. Unfortunately that was Katarina’s and Talon’s business.
She ignored his comment and looked at for him a second as he stepped out of the shadows to better reveal himself. “I was out earlier than expected” she replied checking her surroundings carefully. She didn’t want to make the same mistake again, relying on someone else to make sure the area was clear.
“The ninja was true to her word then, it seems” he stated his cold eyes looking into hers.
“Yes it appears so. That no longer is cause for concern, you sure you know where they are hiding?” She asked stepping further into the alley.
He nodded confidently. “The last victim even drew me a map of where he was being held” he said reaching for his pocket and held out a rolled piece of rough parchment. “The bird’s and the witch’s quarters are nearby, it’s going to be difficult” he stated as she took the parchment from him and unfolded it.
“It shall be worth it. My father would want us to do this” she replied checking over the map carefully. It was crudely drawn obviously not to scale, with a few dried blood stains covering small areas. “We’d better make haste to Noxus then, I assume ‘the finale’ is coming soon?”
With an apprehensive nod from the Shadow’s Blade, the pair walked deeper into the darkness out of sight completely.
Continues onto next page...
Comment below rating threshold, click here to show it.
im loving this story so awsome keep it up and see if u can get it published