Nocturne gets a visitor! Quick story looking in on him and his life and what not.
It was always dark in the room.
Nocturne wasn't sure if he had created this darkness, or if the summoners had made it this way for him, but either way he enjoyed it. The darkness always calmed him; its inky embrace removed any uncertainty he might have and left him relaxed and sure of his actions. He was disappointed there was nothing here for him to terrify, but it was better than those disgusting summoning matches, during which he was controlled by his own captives and forced to do their bidding. No – the silence and loneliness was definitely better than the torture that was the Fields of Justice.
How he loved the shadows.
A shaft of light pierced through his daydreams, temporarily blinding him. The door had opened, a rare, special occasion for Nocturne. He allowed an amused, bored expression to crawl on his face with which to greet his visitor.
It was rare for summoners to visit him, and when it did happen it was usually ones who were new to the League and hadn't met him before. They usually came asking questions about his past, boldly attempting to sway him from evil, and sometimes even trying to be his friend. He expected one of these options, most of which were fixed once he reminded the summoner of how much they lacked in skill.
A small boy, no older than ten, stepped up to the raised platform on which Nocturne was bound, wearing the standard brown, hooded summoner cloaks. He lifted his head, the bottom half of his small face visible up to the nose.
"Oh, I've been down-graded? They're now sending children as my company?" Nocturne taunted. The boy didn't speak. "What? Too afraid to open your lips?"
He cocked his head to one side, as though thinking. "I was merely studying you. I have been told you're an interesting specimen, one of the more unique champions here."
Nocturne chuckled darkly. "So 'interesting' is what they choose to call me nowadays." He grunted, "That's it then? You're just here to window-shop? How disappointing."
"No. You interest me on more of a personal level."
Nocturne narrowed his eyes, studying the boy.
"Tell me, Eternal Nightmare, why do you strike the innocent down through their dreams?"
Nocturne sighed to himself. So this boy was one of the ones trying to convert him. Or perhaps he thought he could get his own gain through the Nightmare's secrets? "What, boy? You think my secrets will help you when you torture me in that little game of yours?"
The summoner's upper lip rose in a snarl. "The Fields of Justice aren't a game. We work for the fate of the world. That's why you've been locked up – you're a threat to the peace we want."
Nocturne smiled darkly. "'Locked up'..." He looked around himself. Tightly around each of his wrists were thick iron chains connected to the roof that held him in an upright position. He was on a raised section from the floor, a centerpiece in an empty museum. He put his full weight against the chains, leaning forward until his head was mere centimeters from the boy's face. The nexus shard that kept him connected to the mortal world dangled dangerously from the chain around his neck. "Do you think I kill people because I'm bored, child? I move like a snake through the shadows, never touching the ground, never allowing myself to be trapped in the light. The darkness is my veil, a beautiful cloak that lets me feed from the innocent, taking their power for my own. I live off of them. Would you cage a tiger because it killed a deer? No, because the tiger had to kill it to live. It was instinct. I kill your kind to live. It is my instinct."
The boy was quiet for a long while. He bowed his head in thought, arms crossed behind his back, his pondering lost on Nocturne. When he did speak, his voice was layered and thick. "Does it ever occur to you the lives that you take?"
Nocturne leaned even closer, until his face was inches from the boy's lips. "Does the tiger ever mourn the deer?" He countered softly.
"No, but the tiger puts the deer to good use, and in that way respects its memory. How do you respect your... sacrifices?"
Nocturne laughed, long and low, his voice echoing back through the chamber several times. He leaned back on his chains, trying to look relaxed. "They are respected in the fact that I even choose them to begin with. I only pick those who... stand out to me. I don't need to show them any other mercy. I do not live in shadow, or work alongside it, I am shadow. I am it's very embodiment. I flow through shadow, just as shadow flows through me!" Nocturne stood up, glaring into the boy's eyes.
"Whether necessary or not, your little killings endanger the world. The league can't allow that."
Nocturne smiled wickedly. "Oh, I remember you now. You were the one who just had one of your little battles, and you chose me to summon. I remember because your control over me was so violent, it was like you hoped to kill me through the summoning. You did not ask me somewhere, you forced me. You shoved me into battle with the fiercest of tugs. But I must admit, by what mundane knowledge I have gained about this game, I observed that you fought moderately well."
"You killed my parents," the boy said softly.
This took Nocturne by surprise, but he didn't show it. "Ah, so that's what this is about. 'I am the reason for all the pain in your life', and what not. Well, tough luck boy. It happens to all of us. After all -" He jangled his chains. "- You're not the one who has no freedom."
The summoner was quiet for a long time. Nocturne didn't care to break the silence. Finally the boy looked up, a smile on his lips.
"You have given me the information I want – it is apparent that you will never be deemed worthy to be free again." The boy walked slowly away.
Nocturne felt an endless rage boil within him. He couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice. "When I break free from this prison, you will be the first I kill!"
Silence. The summoner had already left.
Darkness once again descended on the room, but this time it didn't calm Nocturne. For a very long time since then, nothing could.
Yay.