Karma
There is a cup of hot tea on the table when the door slides open. Though it is winter, the breeze that meanders in is a mere cool one. Karma's eyes crack open before narrowing back down slightly.
"Elder Kumon," Her voice bears a suspicious edge, she had already discussed with the man earlier that day. He should be on his way back to his providence. "What do I have to thank for this surprise visit?"
His wrinkled hand pushes the door closed behind him; no words leave his pressed lips. From the darkness of his sleeves comes a single envelope and set next to the cup of tea. She watches as his lips move but they produce no sound. They move too little to be read.
"Elder." A hand is rises, silence falls.
Karma's stomach tightens at the odd behavior, in the back of her mind; she recalls a report of Noxian magic affecting the minds of her people. Ripples of her night gown flow down as she rises from her seat, bare feet stepping cautiously towards her peer.
The air is still
Kumon brings his hand over and covers his mouth. She halts her advance.
"You are welcome, Karma." She hears the elder's voice.
She wants to stop him, to reach out and demand answers regarding his actions and for his impromptu midnight visit. But she doesn't, merely watches as he smiles faintly and takes his leave. She draws in a breath the moment the door closes.
The envelope is flawless, not a single crinkle or speck of dirt. The face is blank while the flap is sealed with black wax; the imprint of a rose dons the surface.
Leblanc
From her many visits to the newly established league, she has gathered only a handful of information on the magician. Her pulse quickens at the thought of such a powerful foe in the heart of Ionia; not only that, but wearing the face of an elder.
She must warn the others.
But first, the envelope. She hooks her finger under the lip and pulls. The rose does not break, parchment tears around it.
A single plain card with a single line of text written in perfect Ionian characters.
"Hayen Village, 270 men, 0600 tomorrow."
A warning?
A bluff?
She doesn't know what to make of it, the village sits west of the major front, from the reports, the red swarm is days away from its walls. Perhaps Noxus plans a covert operation to capture the large nexus beneath the mountain that the village sits upon.
There isn't much she can do without a standing army. But there is one company that she could mobilize, more of a strike team than a company, a favor for a friend.
She doesn't have much time.
The tea goes cold in the night.
-indifference-
Karma holds her breath for three days. When the report finally comes in, it is a sigh of relief that escapes.
The village is safe and the general is still alive.
-indifference-
On the fourth day, her door slides open once again, revealing a young farmer with a bamboo hat adorning her head and a dirt smeared cloth covering her mouth. She steps in limping.
She offers the duchess a letter, its crispness a stark contrast to the state in which she stands.
Blank with a rose in stamped in black wax.
Karma takes it and sets it next to her cup of tea just as before. Another cup is poured and slid to the other end of the small table.
"Please join me; you must be tired from your journey."
She stares at the elder with dark brown eyes, glancing between the offering and the tanned woman. She doesn't expect the farmer to accept but she is pleased when she does. No words are spoken and the nameless bows before taking her exit without a single word.
Karma is left alone with a card in hand and two empty tea cups.
"Dragon's cove, three transport ships, 2300 two days' time."
The card finds a home in the pocket beside the first. Another chill runs up her spine on her way to the communication nexus. Another favor, another breath to hold.
-indifference-
The third time the door opens; there is already a cup of tea waiting opposite of Karma. She speaks as her visitor closes the door.
"For whatever reason you are doing this for, I thank you." She pauses, eyes staring blankly at the wall. "Leblanc."
There is a pause then an airy chuckle floats through the room as if to humor her.
"Clever girl." The voice she hears is not of a child but that of a female with a light Noxian accent.
But it is a young boy that takes the seat in front of her. Another envelope is slid across the table next to her cup of tea.
"May I ask you a question?"
The child's posture is proper, the way he holds the porcelain displays the etiquette imprinted on his mind. He takes a sip before replying.
"Speak."
She considers her inquiry, sifting through the flurry of things she wants to ask the magician. Many of them are trivial, irrelevant to the big picture; the big picture of Noxus invading Ionia.
"What do you gain from this?"
Another chuckle, his eyes twinkle with much more than childish glee. He sets the cup down and makes the motion as if to wipe his mouth on the back of his sleeve but it stops, covering the movement of his chapped lips. The voice of a child is what she hears.
"Entertainment mostly." Lips are curled back when the sleeve is removed, small white teeth gleam in the lamp light. The cup that hides his mouth next, somehow speaking as the tea is sipped. "It is amusing to see both sides of a war believe that they hold the upper hand. "
It is then that Karma realizes that she and her country are being toyed with; played by a single woman. But there is nothing she can do, not when the warnings are allowing them to turn the tides of the war. A pawn in a game, she wonders if the Noxians know this.
If they are getting the same letters as she is.
The pot is finished in silence.
He stands as tall as her navel when he rises to leave. His small frame is lost in the folds of his robe, fabric brushing against the floor as he bends over to bow. It takes a moment for Karma to register the act of respect and bow back. She feels a small hand lay on the back of her head, her eyes fixated on the small feet of the child.
"Ionia will play a key role in her future. When Noxus is reborn, she will seek strong allies with strong spirits." In a second, the hand is gone, and when she stands, so is the boy.
The paper tears, the wax holds, black rose still intact.
The card bears only a single name.
"Riven"
-indifference-
Two moon cycles past without a midnight visit. the reports that cross Karma's hands are dire. Provinces fall, villages burned, scores of civilians slaughtered and left on the side of the roads to rot. Her lips purse at the thought, at least they had the dignity to bury the dead of their enemies.
She hoped that they would withdraw, having drawn out the war longer than the Noxians had planned for. Instead, they brought more, a final card to quickly end their invasion. The Zaunite melters were devastating.
They haven't won a single engagement in the last three weeks. Worn out units were pulling back to the Palicidium. What little military they could scrounge up were beaten back, even Irelia's unit had to retreat with their tails between their legs. It was a blessing that the general made it out alive.
In a week's time, the red swarm will that knocking on the gates of her city.
When the door slides open, the elder does not even look up from her fixation on the cup in front of her. she hears the Noxian's voice.
"Do you spend every night like this?"
In a blink of an eye, there is an elderly woman with the tea in hand seated across from her. The answer is obvious.
"Tell me, what do you think Ionia stands for?" With her mouth hidden by the cup, all she hears is the voice of a sweet grandmother.
"Indifference."
There is a pause, she feels as if she should meet the woman's gaze. She breaks away, staring at the swirling hot liquid in her hands. She wants to hear her true voice.
"Not peace or balance?"
A common misconception.
"No, those are outcomes of indifference; the state of no emotions. No hate, nor love. To have one, you must have the other. But when our hand is forced."
Another drink of tea, she needs to collect her thoughts. She had tried to convince those of both sides to see the compromise. Exhausting
"We are caught in the middle of Noxus and Demacia. Where Demacia fights with love at their hearts, wanting to save everything no matter the cost, they do not realize that nothing is so clean cut, they cannot wipe out injustice no matter what they do."
The woman seems to sit in contemplation, watching Karma intently as she answers.
"And what of Noxus?"
She finally looks up, searching the clouded gray eyes. She find nothing of worth, a blank gaze; empty and dead. Karma reminds herself that the woman is an infamous mage of the forces currently ravaging her homeland.
"Noxus holds hatred and fear close to their hearts. Their burning hatred of feeling weak, fear that they will be cast aside for being worthless. Constantly feeling the need to prove themselves that they deserve to be alive, never again will they fall. The strong will prevail." She quotes the rallying cries she has heard too many times over the horizon as red armies charged the walls.
The cup is set gently on the table, still half full of tea. another blank envelope is slid across the table and the woman feebly walks to the door. Her hand rests on the side.
She hears Leblanc's voice.
"Thank you."
The door opens and shuts.
The paper tears, the seal refusing to yield.
"Aaya Pass, one prisoner, execution. Varus."
The name is of man that Karma has personally met, having attended his duty ceremony. She has heard reports of his transformation, his near slaughter of an entire village guard for trying to stop him from charging into battle. Consumed by hatred, thirst for power.
His execution. Is Leblanc trying to get her to save the man? A warning not to? She flips the card over, a single word stares back.
"Indifference."
A sense of understanding. She has been presented a choice.
Her pocket grows heavier.
-indifference-
"You saved him."
Karma, with her eyes closed, feels the door slide shut and feet pad over to her table. There is only one cup laid out, it is placed for her guest. The voice continues prancing through the air, it sounds confused.
"You sacrificed 12 soldiers, ended the lives of 32 Noxians. All for one man; a man that would fit your definition of a Noxian."
she purses her lips, still still could not find the words to justify her actions.
"I did not make the decision."
She looks up, peering into the questioning gaze of the teenage boy across from her. The lower part of his face is wrapped in dirty bandages.
"Oh? but you made the choice to share the information with council. How did they justify their orders to their provinces?"
The word are more curious than judging. She merely seeks information now.
"It was a covert operation."
She refuses to speak any further on the topic and sits content with watching the boy drink the tea through the bandages.
Before he leaves, he slides an envelope across the table alongside the empty cup. He stands and she sees the horrific wounds on the boy's body. his legs are blackened and melted away, his clothes rags. She gasps softly at the sight of an arrow shaft jutting out of his stomach.
And yet, contrast to the state of his health, the boy speaks calmly as if reciting a verse.
"In Demacia, there is a statue of King Jarven II and his plaque reads; 'To keep silent is to speak, not taking action is to act. Not choosing is a choice of its own. He who does not fight evil is a villain himself.'"
He walks to the door, his charred feet leaving blackened prints on the floor. He stops before disappearing into the night.
Alone.
The paper tears, the seal remains.
"Palicidium, Irelia."
She doesn't understand, the other side is blank. There is no context and she is unsure if it is a warning or a call to action. The thought of her close friend being in danger sets a storm of worry in her chest.
The card rests heavier than the rest.
-indifference-
The Noxian forces retreat. A celebration.
All karma can do to watch her old friend sit on the temple rooftop, gazing down at the festivities below.
-indifference-
"You lost a good friend."
She isn't even startled at the now familiar voice. The air moist with the morning dew yet the damp trails on her cheeks bear no relevance with the weather. Out of the corner of her eyes she sees a cup placed on the slick railing in front of her, painted nails wrapped around the steaming drink.
She does not recognize the smell of the leaves, it is nothing she has ever seen on the island. Nevertheless, she takes it, the dark liquid coats a layer of bitterness over her tongue. Its taste is deep, heavy, stifling. She takes a guess; a Noxian tea.
She wasn't even aware that Noxians drink tea. It is different but not unpleasant.
She lets out a weighted breath.
"I did."
Another consumed by anger, blinded with the sole purpose of bringing death to the other side. It made her think that the invasion succeeded more at turning Ionians into Noxians than killing them.
"She is still there, locked away in that shell. She is not lost."
Karma finally glances to her companion, realising that she can hear the woman speak while seeing her lips move. This is Leblanc, the deceiver of Noxus, bearer of the black roses upon parchment. The mage looks at her and the face of complete understanding, almost comforting.
"She is only wandering."
Her voice is solemn, countless lifetimes of sadness surfacing with her words.
"You Ionians remind me of the Atomens who once lived on this island as you do now. They practiced peace, refusing to become involved with the affairs of the mainland. Ironically, they killed all outsiders who set foot on their land."
The change in subject is sudden, sparking confusion in Karma. She has never heard of this people that the other speaks of. Perhaps they could learn of this ancient civilization.
"What happened to them?"
Her eyes follow Leblanc's hand as she points to the stone statue seated in the center of the garden. It is of a an emaciated man with the head of an ox and a prayer strip nailed to his chest.
"You tell me, your people worship them."
The color runs from her face at the connection. She had studied about them in great detail; most of the stories of their gods had been brutally tortured and murdered for their beliefs of inner peace.
A moment of silence passes between them filled only by the sea of fluttering red prayer strips tethered to the trees of the garden. When the tea is finished, Leblanc tosses her cup to the wind and Karma watches in awe as it is carried off. She does the same, the two white vessels disappear into the landscape.
"What happens now?"
"We continue living. There is much to be done in Noxus as there is in Ionia. I do not wish for your people to suffer the fate of your ancestors. They were...good people."
Leblanc climbs up onto the railing, somehow standing upright despite the slick surface the morning dew created. The wind picks up, the rustling of thousands of paper slips is deafening. Her voice seems to swirl around her.
"Good bye, Karma." She glances back, "Be kind to her when she stops wandering."
Her body leans forward and Karma rushes to catch her. Her grasping hand passes through the woman. It feels as if she tried to catch a plume of smoke.
There is no sound, no body, only a red prayer slip that is carried away with the breeze.
-indifference-
When she arrives home, she boils water and steeps a spoon of tea leaves. The room feels a bit colder, a bit emptier. In a moment of realization, she feels her pocket shift and grow heavier; the pocket she uses to carrying the envelopes.
Her hand reaches in, instead of a stack, they only find a single one, same as all the rest; no face with a black wax seal.
She near drops it when finger pull at the flap.
The seal breaks, the rose lays shattered atop of a field of ivory.
It is not a card, it is a crimson prayer strip that resides in the envelope. It bears a single line of text.
"Baiye Lake. Riven."