CHAPTER ONE
She could hear blood dripping on the other side of the cupboard doors. It had been hours since she had heard any other sounds, but fear refused to relinquish its grip on her small form. The screams ripped from her parent's throats by the blackest of magics were still fresh on her mind, as well as the fleeting images she had been able to glimpse from her cover.
Her fingers just brushed the inside of the cabinet doors, but quickly she pulled back. What would going out there do? Only darkness awaited her.
"Shauna Vayne…"
Vayne awoke, shaking the voice of the witch from her head. She realized that she must have dozed off in the armory after the match. But for how long? Moonlight filtered in through the ajar door, mingling with the cold blue light from the Institute's hextech lamps. Her sore muscles demanded a stretch after sitting on the bench for so long. Standing up, she glanced at the clock, and an eyebrow rose with skepticism. It was very unlike her to be out for so long. Even so, it was understandable. The match had occurred later in the day, and had gone on for far longer than usual. The other champions had long since returned to their quarters, but signs of their being still lingered. Diana had showered after the match, and she saw a few silver hairs glinting on the stone floor. Vayne thought back fondly, remembering catching a few glances of Diana's curvaceous, naked form while waiting for her own turn. She wasn't sure if she had intended for Vayne to see, but Vayne had smiled at her blushing response regardless.
Stiff fingers made pulling her gauntlets off difficult, and the action immediately brought the scent of sweat and leather to her attention. She walked outside, closing the door behind her, and looked up at the moon. A full moon tonight, barely obscured by a few passing clouds. The red lenses that she normally wore over her eyes wouldn't be useful now - she pushed them up to rest in her hair as she walked, the sound of her heeled boots clacking on the stone walkways of the Institute's common cloistered gardens. It was the only sound she could hear.
No. She stopped. After years of training, she heard something else as well. Was that… chanting? The sound of many people walking, muffled by long robes. She recognized the parts of speech, fragments of sound filtering through the obscuring darkness.
She frowned.
"And I thought I was done working for the night…" she whispered, putting her gauntlets back on. She made sure the right one was strapped down correctly, and that a silver tipped bolt was ready if the need arose.
Vayne approached the source of the sound, slowing her steps to avoid creating noise. Peering around the corner, the edges of fleeting shadows escaped her vision. Darkly cloaked figures, perhaps? Or was the light of the moon playing tricks on her mind?
She moved faster toward the figures, hoping to find out where they were going. She broke into a near sprint, the blue light filtering around her between the columns of the sheltered walkway. When she turned the corner, she only found cold stone - the footsteps had faded as well, but the unease remained.
Vayne sighed, wondering if falling asleep in the armory and that terrible memory in her dream had shaken her senses. But as she stepped past the wall, the moonlight shifted around her, revealing a silver design on one of the large stones in the wall. Kneeling closer, she traced the crescent with a gauntleted finger. There was no mistaking it; this symbol had been engraved into this stone in silver. But why? She knew of only Lunari cults that would use such symbols, but the whispers of the robed figures had not sounded like the Rakkor language. The dialect had indicated ancient Noxian, instead.
Vayne shook her head, thinking to herself.
'Either way, this is disturbing news indeed,'
"A little late for a stroll, isn't it Vayne?" came a feminine voice from behind her, interrupting her musings. She tumbled to the left, her coattails fluttering, and pointed her crossbow toward its owner.
"It seems I wasn't the only one," Vayne said, standing and lowering her silver tipped bolt. Diana walked toward her, the moonsilver blade sheathed on her back. The silvered brand on her forehead shone brightest in the lunar light, and Vayne realized that the symbol the Solari had branded her with was not remotely similar to the carving on the wall.
"I often seek the moon's companionship when the silver lady shines so brightly," she says, smiling, "Come, join me."
Vayne's complexion eased as she followed behind Diana, but still, her thoughts were less than peaceful.
"You fought well today on the fields. Well, technically yesterday…" Vayne said as they walked back through the courtyard.
Diana put a warm hand on Vayne's shoulder, "Don't be so modest. You were the reason for the victory. I merely helped you along. But something tells me that you have more than just the match on your mind, yes?" she asked.
Vayne slowed down and looked Diana in the eye, "I… before you found me, I heard a group of figures walking, possibly chanting. They were wearing robes," she said.
Diana responded with a raised brow and a serious glance, "At this time of night? What reason could they have-"
Vayne frowned, "A Lunari cult. I think. But from what I heard, they spoke ancient Noxian,"
Diana glared at the Night Hunter. Diana's silver eyes narrowed to slits, now only a span of inches from Vayne's, "Choose your words carefully, Vayne. Surely I would tell you if I knew such a group existed."
Vayne didn't back down and stepped even closer, "Unless your loyalty to the Lunari was greater than your loyalty to the Institute."
They froze, mere inches from each other, unable to decide their next course of action. Diana realized that her hand was still on Vayne's shoulder, and she showed the first break in focus between them by lifting her hand. She hesitated and brought it slightly upward, caressing the Night Hunter's cheek.
Vayne brought her own hand up against the outside of Diana's, and so Diana reflexively started to lower hers, thinking her gesture unwelcome. She elicited the slightest of gasps in surprise when Vayne pressed her hard closer against her.
With her other hand, Vayne brought a single, armored finger up to Diana's lips before closing the final few inches, kissing her softly. It was something she had desired for a while. The Scorn of the Moon was always an admirable figure to Vayne - a committed and passionate warrior with a dark past, much like herself.
Diana returned the kiss warmly, bringing her other arm around to encircle Vayne in an tight embrace. Something about the closeness of Vayne's tightly clad body, the smell of leather, and Vayne's natural scent felt right to her.
Testing foreign waters, Vayne lightly teased against Diana's teeth with her tongue before pulling back. Before entirely separating, she kissed her again, just briefly.
Gone were their hard expressions and aggressive stances. In their place was unsurety and silence.
"I'm sorry," Vayne said simply, looking at the ground.
"No, I… wanted that," Diana responded, attempting to meet her gaze. Vayne instead looked away, back toward where she had found the hidden moon symbol carved in stone. She gestured softly for Diana to follow her.
"I wanted it too," Vayne said, smiling briefly before looking back at her, "But we should focus on this - it could be important."
Diana nodded, kneeling next to Vayne and tracing a finger over the symbol, just as Vayne had done.
Diana frowned before speaking, "This symbol seems familiar. I'd have to look into Rakkor history to place it exactly, though. I can tell you this. A secret Lunari cult that invokes ancient Noxian does not bode well for anyone here…"
And there it is! Sorry for the delay. I wasn't happy with the first attempt I did, so it took me awhile to get something I liked enough to publish. This chapter is a bit on the short side, but it gives a good idea of what the story is. Please read and review, and PM me any suggestions/love/hate/concerns you might have. Thanks for your readership.
