Chapter I

The tavern rang with the joyful sound of music and laughter. I sat drinking what was probably the cheapest tasting beer with Shyvana, occasionally passing a few crackers to an impatient Valor. We busied ourselves with a useless talk of a war against Noxus, building an imaginary utopia where there was no such thing, chuckling at the mere absurdity that it implied. Fiora had promised to join us, but was either running late or refusing to turn up. To be fair, she was probably still shining her blade and arranging her hair since dawn. Not a rude comment, she's been my friend for a long time, though not as long as Shyv.

The noise around me seemed to make the world spin, or maybe it was due to the alcohol. Either way, when Garen had burst into the building yelling, I nearly fell off my chair.

"All soldiers are called to come forward. Jarvan wants to speak to all of us." His voice echoed.

The laughter stopped and was replaced by anxious mutter. Shyvana and I didn't waste time and headed out, finding Fiora on the way to the barracks. To our surprise, she was less clueless than we were.

"I heard that we're leaving in a few weeks. Some say Noxus, others say Piltover. I don't know anymore." She filled us in on what she knew.

"Been a while since I've felt someone's bones crack beneath me." Shyvana replied chuckling.

Valor and I shifted uneasily as we reached a mass of men and women crowding around the barracks. Over the countless heads I could just make out the silhouette of Jarvan, standing proud and tall as ever. He cleared his throat.

"When war settles amongst friendly lands, Demacia never hesitates to send forth her troops. You must understand that I am making the best decisions when it comes to what comes and goes, and at this moment in time, I'm afraid that we must go. For are we not brave soldiers? Are we not true Demacians?" There was a pause in his dramatic speech. "Of course we are! And where there is unjust bloodshed there is our force to set it right!"

"Justice!"

"For Demacia!"

People cheered amongst the crowd.

"That's right!" He continued. "Gather your things, brandish your weapons! In two weeks time we are leaving. In two weeks we are heading..." There was no intentional pause but the sound of breathing stopped for that split second. "Freljord."

Questions and doubts ran amongst the crowd. People muttered concerns.

"I know it's not what we do, for what right has Demacia got to brave the blizzards? But where we are needed, we go. A terrible war is about to break out. If we leave in two weeks time, we'll get there to stop it." He finished with his overly dramatic punch line, "For Demacia!"

And as if rehearsed, people chanted it back.

"What's the matter, Quinn? Fed up of the prince?" Shyv asked.

I sighed. "No need for these speeches. And Freljord? Really?"

"You're not scared of a little snow, are you?" Fiora replied, making it sound like a challenge.

"No, it's just... I have a bad feeling about this."

Valor squawked in approval.

"You're paranoid. Hey, maybe we'll have some fun, building a snowman or something."

"Yes, Shyv. A snowman in the middle of the battlefield, maybe it'll confuse the enemy." I replied chuckling.

"Can't know till you try. I want a pet poro."

"You'd burn it."

"Would not! I can be careful too you know."

"Like that time you burnt my best leather gloves?" Fiora butted in.

"No, cuz that wasn't an accident." she replied, a smirk spreading across her lips.

We laughed it off and headed back into the tavern. The friendly atmosphere seemed to be back, as if nobody had heard what Jarvan said. Nobody was leaving for Freljord, nobody was going to battle. Nobody would die. They all laughed and drank and drowned out the world amongst a pool of incoherent chatter.

Who amongst them questioned what we were fighting for?

At the end of the day, I headed home with Valor, parting with Shyvana and Fiora. The morning would bring new spirits to us all.

When Quinn left I was about to head back to the living quarters up in the barracks, but Fiora suggested that we take a walk beforehand. I needed to clear my head too so I didn't refuse.

There was a long but comfortable silence as we walked and I felt at peace. The night made the city look more beautiful, hiding its scars and imperfections, making it seem like an ideal utopia to these humans living in it. For some strange reason, I missed living in the wilds. I missed my father, teaching me how to hunt, how to kill. How to be a dragon.

"Are you excited for the departure?" Fiora broke my train of thought, though I didn't mind.

"Not so much excited. More like too tired to care at the moment."

The cool night air descended upon us and I saw her shiver. Before I could reason with my actions, I placed an arm over her shoulders in an attempt to keep her warm.

"Better?" I asked.

She nodded and I could just make out her smile in the darkness.

Above us, a million stars twinkled brightly, wishing us goodnight. Before long, we reached the barracks and had to part ways. She headed towards her home while I walked into the unwelcoming building, up towards the living quarters.

It was never the morning light that woke me - it was always the annoying squawking of a bird that couldn't shut its beak. It was always Quinn, I'm hungry or Quinn I'm bored, Quinn I want a treat, QUINNNN. So, tiredly, I always started my days with a hint of annoyance, which luckily faded throughout the day.

"You love me really." he would say, and I couldn't help but cave in.

Like I do every morning I got my equipment ready and headed for the woods for some shooting practice. I prefered the cool, clean air of the forest more than the barracks as I felt more at home and found that I could concentrate better. Plus, Valor had no room to fly indoors.

I headed to my usual spot - a small clearing in the heart of the trees where I had set up a few targets a couple of months back, pleased to find that no animal had bothered to take them down just yet. I shot my arrows swiftly, hearing constant criticism from a certain winged instructor, who, despite my shots being perfectly centered, would always poke holes at my technique. Much like Caleb.

Maybe the reason why I enjoy the woods so much is because they remind me of him. Endless memories of young children messing around with sticks and dreaming of Demacian soldiers could flash before my eyes, but I try to keep them away. All they do is remind me of a dream that he could never fulfil.

I paused firing as a wave of emotion overcame me. It was as if his image had made its way back into my mind. A small smile spread across my lips as I heard Valor squawking, and I was suddenly rooted back to reality.

"Why are you so much like him?" I muttered under my breath and resumed my training.

However, Valor squawked again, this time drawing my attention.

"Quinn! Look!" he said.

I looked up towards the sky and spotted a hawk flying towards us, its wing beats tired and uneven. It cried out as it descended towards the ground and lost control against the wind. I caught it before it hit the ground, noticing the slight cut across it's chest and the frost covered feathers.

Attached to its feet was a note. I thought little of it until after I had ripped part of my sleeve in order to patch up the bird's wound and laying it gently on the ground to rest.

The note was addressed to Jarvan, and it seemed urgent.

Note: I do jump about with my POVs.

Wat iz dis wat iz dis? Am I seriously writing more fanfiction? AFTER YEARS OF BEING DEAD?
ASDFFHKJLL
Quinn x Sejuani soon... ever so soon... soooooon. Plz stick around (it will get exciting I promise)