Chapter 1: The Summit
The great hall of Anor Londo, usually a place of grand decorum, was now instead a chamber filled with ill-concealed rage balancing on one man's words. Lord Gwyn stood at the end of the long rectangular table, his scarlet eyes boring down upon the figure standing upon the table's surface. The figure was far smaller than anyone else within the hall, yet he still commanded all attention. Noxus, the wielder of the Dark Soul, was usually easily overlooked, even by humans, but not this time.
The man slowly turned, looking at all those within the great hall. Seath the Scaleless, the mighty albino dragon taking much of one side of the hall, stared down at him with a grim sneer revealing gleaming white fangs. The Witch of Izalith, the only one seated, looked at Noxus mournfully, her black, gold trimmed robes hiding everything but her pale face and burned hands. Sir Ornstein, standing on Gwyn's right side, glowered at him angrily, his leonine helm under one arm and his spear clutched in his right hand. The primordial serpent, Frampt, was coiled about a pillar, his disgusting face gazing at Noxus with intense interest.
"So," Noxus began, "the dragons have been broken for nigh on twenty years now. Thine fire still burns brightly, Sun King." He raised a hand to Gwyn. "Thine city grows, thine people flourish. Bride of Flame, thine Children of Chaos grow in power and wisdom," he continued his eyes now on the Witch. "And Seath, Hallowed Traitor, thou art now a Duke with an archive for thine… research." The dragon chuckled when called "Hallowed Traitor."
"And the Dead Lord is prospering within his domain of decay." Noxus removed his helm and placed it beside him as he took a seat on the tabletop. "Yet, we must accept that all things cometh to an end. The Age of Ancients ended in lightning, flame, clouds of vitriol, and oh so many swords. Thus we defeated the dragons of old. This, our Age of Fire, must end as well, but thou must all realize that we can oversee the transition, and make it something peaceful." Noxus warily watched their reactions with his bright amber eyes.
Gwyn brought a stone hard fist down on the table, making the entire hall quake. Noxus clutched his Arch Tree catalyst tighter, his shadow extending with his power. "What art thou whimpering about, Pygmy?!" The Lord of Sunlight roared. "Scores of mine own loyal knight laid their lives down for what we have accomplished! Art thou insinuating that we should cast their sacrifice aside and allow the flames to diminish into darkness?!"
"Lord Gwyn is right, Noxus. We can't simply lay in repose as light disappears. And how canst thee be certain that the flames even will fade? Thine power is strong, human, yet, darkness shan't ever conquer light." The Witch of Izalith spoke, her melodious voice haunting Noxus.
"It is not a question of darkness conquering light, nor am I stating that anyone's sacrifice shall be in vain. It is simply the natural way of things, day turns into night, and night turns into day." Noxus answered.
"Thy logic is sound, Lord Noxus." Frampt finally spoke, his square, yellow teeth clacking noisily together. "Yet, we art all denizens of this world which each of thou hath created. My brother, Kaathe, agrees with thee, he yearns for darkness, and he starves for the fading of the light. But, the flames are what giveth thou all power, even thine Dark Soul was a spawn of the Great Flame. Why wouldst thou desire to throw thine own power away?"
"He shan't lose his power, serpent. Noxus, like all humans, doth be a creature of darkness." The Witch spoke again, her tone sad. "When light was born, darkness too was created, yet the two can exist without one another."
"Darkness doth not represent destruction! Why art thou so terror-stricken by its advent?" Noxus queried, bewildered by their steadfast denial.
"Silence, Noxus!" Lord Gwyn bellowed with a sweep of his fist. "Darkness doth be a plague, a malicious shadow stretching far so as to spread its evil!"
Noxus's amber eyes narrowed as he beheld the Lord of Sunlight. "Art thou suggesting that I am evil, Sun King Gwyn?" His voice was cold steel.
"My lords, please! This city is a place of peace and plenty lay thine animosity to rest," The Witch said, raising her hands and gazing at the two with concern flashing in her golden eyes. The Witch of Izalith had seen enough blood and violence during her time; she had no desire to see the two within the great hall of Anor Londo, especially not between two former comrades.
Sir Ornstein now had his helm on and was holding his spear, the fabled dragonslayer, at the ready. The brave knight did not know whether he could defeat Noxus or not, but he had to defend Lord Gwyn at all costs. Seath was watching the two in mild amusement, his pale eyes flicking between them. Frampt was completely silent; he had decided that listening and waiting were far safer than speaking his mind.
With a sigh, Noxus slowly stood, replacing the bucket-like helm upon his head. "Thou art correct, Bride of Flame, this place should never be exposed to the harsh consequences of war. I shall be taking my leave now, for it would seem that my words fall upon deaf ears." He stalked down the length of the table, his head downcast, and his armor rattling with each step.
The Witch watched him go, her eyes clouded with solemn sadness. She had always liked Noxus, he was a silent, terse sort of man, yet he always had had a sense of honor about him. But, now she realized that he was dangerous, possibly more dangerous than the dragons had been. She kneaded her long fingers together and laid her hands in her lap, she looked over to Lord Gwyn. He was glaring at Noxus's retreating form, his fiery eyes alive with contempt. Gwyn was a good, just ruler, and had always been charismatic and strong willed, yet the Witch couldn't help but find his volatile hatred for Noxus… worrisome.
She then looked upward at the dragon, Seath. He had said nothing during the summit; in fact, the Witch wondered if he even cared for what they were discussing. She had never trusted Seath, and she believed his sadism to possibly be as dangerous as Noxus's ideology. Currently, the white dragon was staring back at her, his fangs gleaming and his blue tongue flicking in and out of his tremendous maw. Finally, he looked away, laughing slightly under his breath.
Last of all, she took a tentative glance over her shoulder at the serpent, Gwyn's secret adviser. He seemed absorbed in thought, and she recognized the same worry and fear in his huge red eyes that she felt. The Witch didn't know much of anything about Frampt, he had been in league with Seath during the Dragon War, yet it seemed the two shared nothing beyond that. She also knew he had a brother, Kaathe, and that the two had an intense rivalry. Aside from that, the primordial serpent was an enigma. Despite the conundrum he represented, Frampt seemed to truly have the interests of the world at heart.
The two giant sentinels opened the massive doors for Noxus, and his small frame disappeared into the night. "What doth thou wish, Your Majesty?" Sir Ornstein asked, his deep voice breaking the silence left in the man's wake. The Witch looked at the anger in Gwyn's face, and grew nauseated with concern.
"I shall escort him out of the city; thee need not concern thy selves." The Witch spoke hurriedly, standing to her incredible height. Gwyn flashed his face upon the Witch, and for a moment it seemed as if he would contradict her.
"Yes, the city is still under construction, I wouldst not wish him to become lost," the Lord of Sunlight grumbled. "The rest of thee, this summit is concluded. Return to thine Archive Seath. Ornstein, check upon my daughter. Frampt, thou stay, I have things I wish to discuss with thee in private."
Bowing her head, the Witch quickly retreated from the hall, her robes whirling around her long legs. She felt Seath staring at her, but she ignored him and rushed out the doors in pursuit of Noxus. It took her a few seconds to grow used to the darkness outside, growing impatient, the Witch extended her hand forward and a small green flame appeared in her charred palm, illuminating things around her with incredible clarity. Looking down the huge staircase leading up to the citadel, the Witch saw Noxus making his slow descent. She stepped forward and began gliding down the steps, her bare feet hovering above the white marble. She overtook Noxus easily.
Noxus looked over his shoulder at the black robed woman gliding towards him, her hood blowing off, revealing her raven locks and more of her saturnine face. Her golden eyes glowed warmly and her full lips curled into a sad smile. "What doth thou want now? I am in no mood for further talk," he growled, turning away from the Witch's splendid beauty.
She slowed beside him, easily standing twice as tall. "That is fine, Noxus. I recall a time when thou never spoke at all. I used to think thou were so much like Nito. It was such a surprise when thou finally did speak that I began to believe Nito could as well." She laughed quietly, hiding her smile behind her hand.
"Yes, well I had naught anything to say," Noxus sighed, casting a glance towards the stars.
"It would seem that my youngest daughter, Quelaan, has naught to say as well. She doth be so silent it worries me much of the time, even young Queroth speaks regularly," The Witch was glad that she and Noxus could still talk like this; things seemed simpler when they talked.
"Give her time, she was but a child during the Dragon War, perhaps it still haunts her." Noxus consoled her, angry that he still enjoyed these trivial conversations.
The Witch sighed heavily. She regretted nothing more than exposing her children to the desolation of war. Quelaag and Quelana had taken it in stride; them being the oldest, the others, especially Quelaan, still seemed affected by it. "She doth be so frail, of mind and body, I truly wonder if she shall ever come to terms with it."
"Perhaps thou should send her out into the world. Give her some solitude away from thine home. Izalith is a confining realm after all."
"But, things art still dangerous outside of Izalith and Anor Londo, drakes roam freely out of their valley and the humans grow…" she stopped herself, realizing what she had just said.
"And the humans grow more and more dangerous with each setting of the sun. I realize the faults of my people, and I know that Gwyn and thee share mistrust for us." Noxus replied concisely, tapping the heavy catalyst against his shoulder.
"Noxus I… I trust thee, should not that be enough?" She wondered if she was telling the truth. After the summit, she wondered if she did trust Noxus anymore.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and continued towards the twisting lift. Noxus was silent for a while, only his armor and his tapping catalyst making a sound. Two patrolling silver knights passed them; both the Witch and Noxus noticed the disdainful looks they gave the human. "If that is true, thou art the only one who does," Noxus responded, his voice scarce above a whisper.
The Witch looked down upon Noxus, tears coming to her eyes unbidden. Wiping them quickly away with her sleeve, she continued. "I do believe thou to be right, though. Quelaan needs time on her own. Perhaps I shall send her here; the young lady Gwynevere could use a companion other than her foolhardy brother."
The two climbed the stairs to the lift, the scraping sound of the metal grating upon their nerves. "I wouldst not trust even this place. There are suspicious elements here as well, Bride of Flame." Noxus stepped on the lift as it came down for them. The Witch followed.
"Do not call me that, thou know my true name. And whatever doth thou mean, Noxus? Of what elements doth thou speak?" She asked; weary of his disliking of Anor Londo.
"I speak of the Hallowed Traitor. His serpentine eyes follow young maidens about as a predator's would. He is closer to evil than the darkness thou all fear so." His answer made the Witch shiver, she had forgotten about Seath.
"Yes, Seath is rather unsavory. Yet, with Lord Gwyn and his Four Knights so close, doth thou honestly think the dragon would do something so vile?" She tried to reassure herself of the city's safety.
Noxus laughed gruffly. "Gwyn trusts the Hallowed Traitor, elsewise he would not have named him duke. Ornstein is implicitly loyal to Gwyn, Ciaran is but an assassin, Gough is too dimwitted to see the Traitor's ill intentions and Artorias… Artorias can be trusted."
They stepped off of the lift and made their way towards an area where the walls were still being constructed. "Then, where wouldst thou recommend I send Quelaan?" The Witch asked pensively.
"That doth be something thou should ask of her," Noxus answered before raising his catalyst to the night sky. It pulsed with his dark magic and a shrill screech answered its call. From beyond the walls of Anor Londo a dark form flew out of the night, its black wings carrying itself effortlessly. The Witch watched as the crow demon descended from the sky towards them. The creature tucked its legs under Noxus's arms and with another screech, hoisted itself and its master into the air.
The Witch of Izalith watched the two slowly disappear into the darkness. She extinguished the green light and hovered alone in the night. How she wished she could trust him.