Burning was the first scent, or rather sense, to kick in; the feel of fire rubbing the nose and smoke invading her nostrils burned like the hellfire that raged around her anyway. She looked back, her team of brutal friends, the only people she could associated with, her right hand woman Ravage smiling that ever-wonderful smile. Her eyes were clouded though, from a warrior who's seen too much, or a battle hardened crippled veteran walking back from a fresh war with thoughts and voices in his head and unshed tears in his eyes; An unmatched sadness too. Though she herself held that look, her friend's was intensified by the fact that Ravage worshipped her, as if an idol or fallen goddess. She turned to see the smile, the only person here who actually attempted to console their mismatched group's leader. With her eyes looking at the only person she could ever call a real friend out of her group- but she would admit the group of eight were all equally her friends privately- she almost, if not for her keen instincts and inhuman reaction time, was hit in the face by an arrow, the flint and wood missing her face by a mere inch, scraping her nose.
She didn't even have to raise her voice, for the group knew what to do when in the eye of a storm called an ambush; it was only one single word their leader needed to utter before all hell broke loose, but the situation needed assessing first. The winds swept in then, causing the fires around her to die down, but not dissipate.
Demacians, led by a...girl in heavy battle armour with... nothing but a wand? She had to admit, if this girl could fight, then she could lead, and if this scrawny whelp of a child barely out of her teens could lead, then she was a damn good fighter. Clearly a mage, though; the wand and luminescent bright light that flowed around her moving form atop her brightly coloured armoured horse gave that away. She spotted the scout that had managed to evade her senses, striking an arrow on her nose- not an easy feat, if you were to ask the others of her company- sitting there with a clear frown, as if he had done something wrong by missing...no, that wasn't it, her hawk-like eyes suggested to her brain, it was...fear?
The kid leading the group came to a stop, her face set in a small gasp upon seeing the trickle of blood that flowed down her nose; the cut was barely small, but this girl began ordering troops around them as if she, and the rest of her company, were actually in any danger.
"Ma'am?" she turned her head to the left to see the small man, a thick, brown dwarfish smile set upon his yordle face, and shook her head. He was, surprisingly for a yordle, of Noxus, a place where strength is the reason for a man or woman's existence, and weakness is frowned upon; those beneath the strong were born weak and made themselves powerful, whereas those born in the command and higher-ups of Noxan society were born strong and grew weak. The yordle knew this more than anyone, and knew the pains of growing up in the cruel harbours of Noxus.
Norrus, his name was; a skilled inventor, like most yordles, but also skilled with a greatsword, unlike most- well, save for that Poppy girl she had ran into once before. It was massive; a black blade tinted in blue with scattered purple flames dancing around the tip of the weapon.
"Demacians; leave them be. Zero Company, move." No shouting, no militaristic look of harshness on her face as she ordered; it was an order that was given rather quietly and softly, for her company to follow. They did so without question, as if her actions spoke louder than any words she could ever speak, and this tale rang true if they followed so stiffly, regarding her with the respect if instantaneous compliance; that or they were just blind fools who followed a weak leader.
The girl on the horse had expected some sort of battle between a mistaken enemy and her own half-army following her, but a small look of wonder and a frown soon after followed, as she looked to the scout that had shot before looking. For all he knew, this could have been a civilian caravan, or even some weary innocent farmers; they weren't far from the farms of Demacia, after all. That could have been the most likely conclusion; she would be having words with her father and brother as soon as she got back to the castle, that's for sure.
But that girl, leading them...she confused her, and the leader of the mercenaries as they walked away could tell.
It was a momentary weakness, but she sighed, turning her head and ordering them to stick with the Demacian force. Their target right now could wait, the giant rat known as Twitch wasn't that much of a danger anyway; at least, not to her or her company.
The Demacians settled in with next to no complaints that they had a group of experienced mercenaries with them; though, most eyes were drawn to her.
She ignored them, turning her head to come face to face with Ravage.
"Rave?" a short nickname for her; in fact, she had nicknames for each and ever one of her company. Norrus was the only one without one, simply because she couldn't think of one for him. Ravage bobbed her head, her eyes displaying a heady mix of sadness and shyness; instantly, she understood.
They both looked around, making sure their company were asleep, the Demacians were in their tents and the horses were tied up before they both clashed in a fever of hands and lips. Locking lips, they ran their hands up and down each other almost needy, before a sharp whistle echoed through the air, and they both parted just before it slammed into one of them.
What...? That wasn't how the memory...oh. Now she understood: These meddlesome Summoners playing with memories, trying to find a breaking point? She could do that too; they wanted to see her breaking point? She'd show it to them.
She turned her head to where the arrow had come from, her face hidden beneath her black as night hood.
It was Ravage, her face empty, her voice even so filled with emotion. "Why did you want to join the League, Revin?"
Ravage frowned when she got no reaction; Revin simply waited for another word from the 'girl' in front of her.
"How does it feel to expose your mind?"
That was what she was looking for, and without further adieu, she waved the Summoner over. Revin gave the small girl a bow, before leaning in to the wary person's left ear and whispering, ever so softly.
"Would you like to find out?"
She didn't wait for an answer, because she had already forced the magic surrounding them to bend to her will, the runes that covered her broken sword glowing, as if in surprise of their master's bold move.
She simply made a small hushing sound, before the area around them was covered in memory once more, though this one...the Summoner was trying to stay away from using.
It was so tragic, that when she first signed up to the League of Legends, they immediately broke down- Summoners, stone cold in their emotions, broke down at the mere sight of what this woman had seen. They had only short glimpses, only small looks into her past with the use of intelligence gathering, but after deeming her mind too unstable, yet she was an asset, if she were to pass the Judgement, she would become a one of a kind Champion...
...An independent one.
Blood flowed around her feet, her eyes never leaving the sight that was bore in front of her. Her company, Zero, had never left her side, though that proved to be a dangerous thing indeed. Her red eyes glanced around the battlefield; this was supposed to be an escort job, nothing more.
Luxanna Crownguard was supposed to be transported through the harsh lands of Ionia and Noxus safely, and she and her company would be recruited, officially, into the royal guard as Luxanna's personal guards.
While working for the royal family seemed to be...a bit...well, she didn't like the sound of it, but redemption from her past would be a gift in and of itself, especially after what she did, who she used to be...
...she shook her head when a Noxian soldier, woman, barely out of her teens- were they recruiting children now?- charged, a small dagger-like blade being thrown with almost deadly accuracy, had Revin not caught it a mere inch from her face.
Odd that they'd use daggers, but even odder that children with red hair...wait; daggers were Noxian Assassin weapons, and the shark-tooth design with saw-tooth edges and the curved blade was known to one assassin in the Noxian army only. Katarina DuCouteau, daughter of a very high up Noxian general and in a long line of assassins, was known never to fail, never to miss her target, and never for said target to escape.
Well, until today, of course. Revin would not kill the girl, no, she'd let her leave with a lesson.
"Katarina DuCouteau, assassin; to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Katarina blinked in surprise, her mind trying to unravel why this woman was so friendly to her; she had just tried to slice her head off with a thrown dagger, and now this woman with white hair was...smirking?
Seeing no other way out of this than to get close to her though, she settled for talking; that was dangerous, even for her, in the middle of a raging war, but if she could leave with this girl's head in her hands, she'd do the necessary.
"You know me, clearly, but I don't know you." She smirked when she thought she saw a grimace of pain flash in the woman's eyes as a stray arrow slammed into her chest, but then katarina's eyes widened as the woman simply raised her sword- which looked eerily familiar...and broken- and slashed downwards, the edge scraping skin but not drawing blood, as she sliced the arrow in two, the tail end falling harmlessly to the ground.
Revin Nightingale, at your service, lady."
"R-Revin? I was told I was hunting an Exile, not a...not a..." Katarina failed to continue, she faltered, so Revin chuckled darkly and rose a hand, spreading her fingers out, telling her watching company nonverbally to secure their position.
Once they had seen that they were alone, Revin sat down on a small incline, shaking her head to the left, indicating the assassin to sit down next to her. This was no joke, she truly wished to talk, but Katarina didn't see it that way. She was practically inviting a blade between her shoulders, but somehow...she felt that this woman wouldn't attempt to hurt her; Noxus may be unkind, but she is honourable, and this assassin was certainly honourable- but she was ruthless, which would make her unpredictable, right?
She sighed, deciding to humour the dead woman walking.
"You meant to say I was a legend, I am guessing?"
Kat nodded; no words.
"I see...you do understand I am self-Exiled, right?" Revin calmly extricated a small flask of Demacian whiskey from her torn cloak, sipping the drink and feeling the burn of Demacian Fire-snake oil and ethanol run down her throat.
Kat shook her head, still no words.
"Good...this will make this a lot easier then." She sipped again, before offering the teen a sip; of course Katarina said no. The enemy didn't offer you kindness, she was taught. So why did she shake her head instead of accepting? This woman was clearly no enemy, no offender to her at least, and she knew not the reason behind her assassination. This entire thing confused her.
"I see your confusion." Revin sighed; of course Noxus wouldn't tell their star assassin why exactly she had to murder a legend of Noxus. "Allow me to explain; I went into self exile after Noxus' high command gave me, to be crass, shitty intelligence. I was to lead my squad, forty-two strong, into the valley where Ionia met Demacia, perform recon and harass both states." Katarina raised an eyebrow at the 'harassment' and Revin was quick to notice and explain. "Burn villages, execute men and women, etcetera and so forth."
"Why tell me this?" her assassin companion suddenly burst out, causing Revin to smile beneath her hood. "Why tell me? You are no traitor, that much is certain, but the lines of your contract are clear; you are to die before you interfere in Zaun and Noxus' plans."
"I see. Did I ever tell you about the time we first met? Your father and me?"
Katarina froze from dragging a secret, hidden dagger from her back, frowning then glaring at the calm woman in front of her. "What are you talking about?"
"Of course we have kitty-cat. We met long before you were ever an assassin, long before Noxus twisted you away from him and me." She stood, Katarina slack-jawed as she began to remember. "Why else would I talk instead of fight? Why else would I greet you as I have done? I am an exile, self imposed, yet you do nothing to a 'traitor' of your beloved state." Revin took the silence as a queue to continue. "We met under the stars, as I believe. Quite fitting that we meet under a moon."
At Katarina's confusion, Revin nodded her head upwards towards the sky, to see the half moon showing. It was only four in the afternoon, but the confusion was not lost, while the distance between Noxus and Demacia was not as great as they'd both like to believe, Demacia's skies were always bright and light until round about ten. Noxus, on the other hand, had sought out rule of the skies, sovereign over the weakling, emotional stars and moon, and set to disrupt that: As a result of their meddling in natural affairs, the moon decided to let them win, setting and rising earlier.
Revin's voice sounded familiar, but she suddenly felt that she didn't like the sadness that followed. "I...don't know who you are, so I suggest you simply stay still and-" shouting; they both turned their heads to see what the commotion was, and her eyes landed on a girl with a sword eerily similar to hers, her white hair similar to her own, and her stance again similar, and she hoped that the commotion was the victory for them. She looked to familiar, too noticeable to be an enemy, and while Noxus had betrayed her, Revin had not betrayed Noxus. She loved it, and its citizens, no matter how corrupt, with unfeasible worship. But her sins kept her from going back, and her self-exile from staying if she ever did.
"Ma'am, we have an issue! Take cover!" Ravage shouted that, but it was far too late; smoke and clouds of green enveloped the group of mercenaries. Melting, death, pain, screams ricocheting around the field, a flash of green, a flash of red, then a flash of black.
"ENOUGH!" a voice shook the air around her, and the memory faded to nothing but a small wisp of blue hazy mist, gliding across the checker-tiled floor.
She turned her face to the Summoner visibly shaken; good. That should teach them to keep out of her mind. She then turned her head to see the Summoner that had shouted the command, and could only see a shadow.
"Revin Nightingale, The Immortal Exile, you are deemed worthy as a Champion in the League of Legends."
Revin nodded, her face obscured beneath the cowl of her tattered cloak, and went to follow the Summoner with an apparent grouchy side.
(^^^^^^)
"I heard they're stronger than Thresh!"
"Oh, how absurd, I heard they're stronger than all of us put together."
"Caitlyn, please; I am trying to read."
"Yes, yes, sorry Ashe."
"Thank you. For your information, I heard she's immortal."
Caitlyn was about to reply, before Riven, the Exile, stepped over, having overheard the conversation and thoroughly intrigued; she never did often get involved with outside concerns, but when she did it was usually if something was mildly important to her, or something that was...unique.
"I am sorry to bother you all, but may I inquire as to whom, exactly, you are talking about?"
Caitlyn nodded, her top hat slipping down to accommodate her head a bit more. "...Of course. We're talking-"
"-There's a new Champion coming here!" Annie interrupted her, earning a small sigh from Caitlyn and a small grin from Ashe.
"Is that so, young Annie?" Riven was always soft spoken and polite, but she rarely got involved this much within a new Champion's arrival. She must have heard about the newbie's Judgement, and how she forced the Summoners out of her mind without the use of magic- considering they were rumoured to be a mage; this kind of strength would, of course, prove useful to a Noxian, former of no.
"Uhuh!" her face then went shallow, dark, and sad, as if trying to keep herself from bursting into tears with uncontrolled rage as the trigger. "She's different though."
"She...?" Ashe noted; a female Champion was another Champion she could become allies with: females in this institute were known to stick together. The men liked to rule things. "You've seen her?"
"Yeah...but she's different."
"You said that, little Annie; How different?" Caitlyn had stopped sipping her Piltoveran tea now, thoroughly invested within this piece of information.
Annie took a deep breath, but before she could answer, a deep, ethereal voice sounded just behind her, making her jump as she listened. "The new one; yes, I have seen her. Dark, twisted, yet not evil. Lost..." Malzahar turned his head to Riven. "An exile like yourself." He then directed his attention to the rest of the listening group. "She has a pain that exceeds any here, a loss so great that to comprehend would be to understand, and none do." He paused, before looking straight at Riven again. "Not even your pain exceeds hers. She has witnessed a loss beyond yours."
He turned his head after a moment of silence, looking at Annie with a small frown. "I apologise for the interruption."
As he floated away, he suddenly stopped upon hearing footsteps, and the entire room went quiet. It seems everyone in the Freljord and Piltover was interested in this new immortal, and Riven herself would be lying if she claimed to be uninterested in the new Exile. "I wonder...an exile like me? A pain greater than mine?"
"Ah, it seems we have a new Champion to grace us!" a voice rang out, and everyone raised their cups in agreement.
The footsteps sounded odd, though. One was light, the other slightly heavy, with a metallic clang every time it hit the ground.
Lux, who had come here seeking a friend whom of which had vanished to Caitlyn's table, lifted her head; she knew that sound, the footsteps, and her eyes widened with glee.
Everyone watched amusedly as Lux shot up, sprinting past them all and into the new Champion, whose hands didn't hesitate to wrap themselves around Luxanna Crownguard; Garan was going to flip, especially if he saw Lux plant a gentle kiss to the Champion's cheek.
"Revin~! I missed you!"
"...Luxanna." That caused Lux to frown and pull away. Her voice was...well, she didn't sound defeated, more of bored, destroyed, as if she had her entire life taken away before her very eyes and replaced with a fake; something Riven knew very well.
They hadn't seen each other since before the...incident. Revin had little to no contact with the outside world, often travelling alone, keeping her senses sharp in the Shurima Desert, or keeping her strength up with a small bout of mercenary work in Bandle City, helping the Yordles keep order and chaos apart- the only thing that did elude her was the criminal known as Veigar, but with rumours of him being in the League hitting her, she would have justice for those the twisted Yordle had killed. Fun had eluded her years ago, before meeting Lux; but even when she did meet her, Revin would simply sit on her own, her company far away dreaming, and she'd sip upon a bottle of whiskey, wishing for plenty of times that now and then she could at least feel the buzz of the alcohol. Immortality took the feel of drunkenness away, but she never let that bother her; now she just drank to alleviate stress, finding solace in the taste, rather than the actual buzz a bottle of whiskey gives mortals.
She envied them sometimes. A mortal can forget things, immortals...well...immortals forget how long forever really is.
Her head snapped, quicker than any human reflex, to her side where a small purple hand was placed upon her forearm, wraps of some sort of desert garb covering the hovering male.
"I welcome you to the League."
"Malzahar..."The response he received from Revin confused him greatly. The area was still silent so the overly dramatic and conspiring gasp provided by Annie went heard. The floating man of the Void stared, as if questioning for an answer to how she knew, exactly, his name, of both before and after the transformation of which he has become the Prophet of the Void.
"How do you know of me, Immortal Exile?"
Her face was completely devoid of any form of expression, emotions lost in her years of toning and training. "How do you know of me?" She retorted, and he did not have an answer that would not offend. He simply bowed his head, verbally beaten, and floated off calmly, a purple ball of evanescent magic playing between his elongated fingers.
Lux had removed herself from Revin and simply reached a hand upwards to cup the woman's face, pulling back quickly when Revin flinched. "Sorry..."
A simple throaty hum was her response, and Revin walked past her, completely ignoring everyone else and sitting at a table far away, flicking her wrist. From her wrist came a bolt of red energy, deep, crimson, bloody red, and it hit the table and a single chair with a small, almost undetectable sound. The chair and table rattled, the contents spilling onto the floor as magic heaved the objects upwards, suspending them in the air.
Annie had used magic, obviously, but this kind of magic was lost to her. Granted, she was still a child, but still...
She saw Quinn and her falcon, Valour, walk in. They eyed the table, then the new Champion, before a splitting grin lifted Quinn's face and Valour made no sound, flapping his wings, begging release from his master's arm. It greatly confused the Dark Child, so she simply shrugged, whispering to Tibbers, her Shadow Bear, while eating the rest of her nondescript food.
Quinn complied, shooing him into the air, as she silently crept along the ground, as if stalking an animal. The room had gone back to making noise, the sounds of food being eaten and speech being given echoing the room. Valour was hovering above Revin's head before it happened; he was suddenly locked in a falcon-sized crimson red magical cage, squawking in defeat. He lowered his head, as if actually ashamed for failing.
Quinn used this as a distraction, but Revin used the distraction as interference; she moved the bird cage containing Valour and in one dismissing flick of her wrist, she launched the cage containing a terrorised Valour, whacking it solidly against Quinn's bent torso, causing a mighty thud to echo the room.
Nobody, unsurprisingly, paid it mind; new Champions were known for showing off, but, Riven guessed, this Champion was simply...greeting someone.
Revin lifted herself through the air, seating herself upon the floating seat elegantly, before, without using her hands, using the magic surrounding her very being to move the chair in front of the hunched Quinn and the squawking Valour.
"Apologies, Miss Quinn. I did not realise it were you two until the lateness of my reflexes." That was as close to any emotion that anyone would publicly hear from her.
Quinn simply smirked, jumping into the chair and tackling Revin out of it, causing them both to crash to the ground. Revin was simply looking bored, but Quinn looked happy. "Aww, big sis can't be fun anymore?"
"No."
Quinn pouted, sitting upright before moving backwards, watching as Revin lifted herself off of the ground, floating in a similar fashion to how Malzahar does. Revin pointed to a random chair, willing it over with her magic before putting it in front of Valour and Quinn, who sat in it eagerly. She kept her hands crushingly tight on the arm rests of the wooden chair, but Revin waved her wrist again, causing the chair to float and move over to the floating table.
Riven noticed a distinct lack of happiness on the Demacian's face, and wondered what had, about this meeting, gotten Lux so down.
As she thought that, she looked upwards slightly to see a pair of wondering red eyes staring at her.
Revin simply looked back to her sister, Quinn, who ranted on and on about her exploits, Valour's squawks and pitches interrupting sometimes.
But Riven kept feeling those eyes on her.
It confused her that she liked the attention from the magical being.
She left.
(^^^^^^)
Revin wasn't one to spar- Leona of the Solari had proven that she was the toughest to spar against. Somehow she had managed to take down every single combatant, unarmed or no- excepting Vi; that woman was a beast with unarmed brutality- in single combat, never being taken down.
Revin thought back to this when she noticed Riven watching her curiously. To fight another of the Noxian Stinger Technique would be a glorious battle, so her very own attraction to the woman would be that of platonic familiarity and the rush of battle ringing through her deadened, non-emotional system. It might bring her back, slowly, to life from the inside.
Immortals often forget how long 'Forever' really is.
(^^^^^^)
Her third week here and no one had attempted speech; good, she thought, speaking to her would be to actually understand her pain, to realise that, for once, she was to become the limelight, not them and their self-obsessed ways.
The tap awoke her from her thought.
Leona.
"Hello. I have noticed you staring at me multiple times during my sparring matches. I wish to know your agenda."
Silk, lavender laced with honey; her voice was perfect, but a flawed comparison to her own smooth, soft yet commanding tone.
She waved a hand to the small, boxed off and tightly roped arena.
Leona didn't understand, but she knew.
(^^^^^^)
A small gathering had become a large roster of every single Champion in the league, all staring at the golden Solari and the Immortal Exile, both simply trading blows, trying to wear the other out.
Between a small, shin-levelled kick, the warrior spoke as though effort was rare in this occasion. "We have attracted quite the crowd."
Revin responded in kind with a small hop and a powerful roundhouse to the chest plate of Leona's bronze-gold armour, causing it to dent inwardly. A small continuation of punches and kicks occurred before Revin replied. "It would seem so, Solari."
Leona sighed, throwing punches and never wavering, but the defeat behind the movement of lips caught Revin's attention. Leona spotted the look that was sent her way. "I wish not to be judged by my armour or skills, only for my person."
Revin simply hummed, leaning inwards, catching Leona off-guard and delivering three brutal punches to the woman's armoured arms, before toppling the giant of a woman with her feet, a sweeping motion lifting the Solari from the ground, placing her on the floor, on her back.
She stared up, no expression, as Revin hovered above her, one hand extended and the other forming a small ball of magic.
Leona took the extended hand.
"A warrior is a warrior, armour nor does status define people. Tell me, Solari; do you take offence in the colour of your skin compared to my own? The subtle change in colouration from nation to nation?" she was no longer talking about skin tone.
"A general must fall before he can rise, but to fall, he must have risen before."
She hoisted the Solari upwards with one heft of her muscles. The lift brought the warrior close to her face, and Revin whispered. "A wise man spares one hand and arms the other." The orb of magic on Revin's second hand vanished."You are merciful; the armed shall fall as the general of peace shall rise."
Revin walked away, curious Riven's eyes tracing her path to the doorway, following almost sneakily.
Leona stayed there, in the aftermath, thinking.
She did not know, but she understood.
(^^^^^^)
Riven stared at her, completely cutting off entrance to her own room, a silenced question behind soft yet hardened steel eyes. What would have happened in Leona took the magic hand, the armed hand?
"She would see the past, and recognise the future."
Riven wanted to understand, she did.
But she knew not how to.
(^^^^^^)
Trauma was not a random occurrence within the league, many got it; The Exile and the Immortal Exile being the only two that face it every day and do not witness others attempting to correct the past through medicines as they had seen others do to the more...liked.
She awoke, two thirty four in the morning, screaming until the voices of long-dead foes and allies alike vanished from her mind. Revin hated sleeping; she hated seeing her past laid bare to herself. If another saw it, she would not care- she'd be the one to show it to them.
But the thought of it- it horrified her, terrified her beyond belief that she was slowly losing herself to the growing-in-volume voices within her cranium.
Then she froze.
Help me.
No, mercy, please!
"Shut up..."
The voices had never come during her conscious state of awareness, only ever plaguing her dreams. If they were to continue showing up, however, she'd be in control, not them. She'd make sure of it, she would.
And then the hallucinations came; these plagued her nightly, daily, every time she breathed and walked, or sat and listened. She held her head, using a technique of ignorance, blocking out the vivid visible memories.
A palm on her shoulder, and she screamed.
Once finished, she pushed herself to the headboard of her bed; sitting in hopeless abandon, staring at the area the hallucinatory image had touched her.
She never got touched, ever. Too ugly, too scarred.
A knock on the door stopped another hallucination from forming, and she bolted to it, her footsteps not making noise.
Brushing her hair, composing herself, she pushed the door open to see golden armour, a pair of white wings, and a purple skinned woman next to the floating knight with glowing eyes and a look of decay set upon her wings.
"Humble apologies." The floating knight bowed mid-air, but Revin was having none of it; she waved them in without so much as a look backwards as she moved; her armoured left foot and bare right one clunking in harmony as she placed foot in front of foot.
The two angels, fallen and not, shared a look; they despised each other, but they held a common interest in this woman, silent as she may be. They simply nodded, sighed, and looked back at Revin's still open door.
They entered.
Kayle was no fan of Morgana, nor her of Kayle, but they set aside differences to see this incredibly old and wise immortal.
After engaging small pleasantries, Revin clapped her hands, a few chairs and tables setting themselves up in their predetermined formations, hovering in the air. Revin glided upwards, swiftly seating herself upon the warm seat, while Kayle and Morgana simply stared; they had not used nor seen this kind of magic before- especially of an immortal to use.
After seating themselves upon the hovering chairs, Revin wasted no time.
"You wish to talk? Then talk."
Morgana had never felt fear, but this woman, her allegiance unknown, was an enigma; she had figured out every single Champion here in this institute, and most other Summoners, but this woman, older than she and Kayle combined, was beyond even her comprehension.
Unpredictable, methodical, calculating; it scared her.
Kayle, on the off hand to Morgana's, felt a kindred soul within herself for this woman; she had seen hardships, apparently, but to live this long, even as an immortal, was a shocking and astounding life.
Race or no, they were bound by immortality to seek each other out, whatever the case may be; warring and antagonising between races were strictly prohibitions against the inevitable destruction of the world in the wake of said war. She treads carefully with her questions, the Judicator smiling before taking off her shining gold helmet.
"Yes, I wish to ask you; you have made few, if any, friends here, yes?"
Revin nodded.
"For what apparent reason is unknown to us, but we figured, Morgana and I," she spat Morgana's name like a vile poison gracing her tongue, but the woman in question simply smirked evilly at Kayle. "That you'd like some possibly familiar company."
"I see..."
Morgana could see Revin questioning it all, and decided to help her sister; that made her stomach churn, but alas she progressed onwards. "Yes, while I detest to admit it, we'd really like a...kindred...screw it. We'd like an immortal friend; one we don't actually have to worry about stabbing us in the back."
Revin's voice was dead when she snapped herself out of her thoughts. "I see...you wish for a simple mediator to put you both on equal ground here in the League?"
Morgana and Kayle simply nodded, too stunned of the Immortal Exile's ability to read people to ask.
Revin leaned backwards in her chair, tilting it slightly with her magic and looking them both dead in the eye, her red eyes glowing faintly with unseen magic.
"Rules must be made."
They both looked at each other, before nodding and speaking simultaneously. "...Agreed..."
"Then we begin..."
(^^^^^^)
Four weeks without an incident between Kayle and her sister, but it was spiralling vastly. She cared not for the two angels, but she did care for her own peace and quiet.
Knock.
Speaking of...she should remove that door, replace it with something that doesn't make a noise when knocked.
Knock, knock, knock.
She sighed. Standing, she moved to the door, sighing once more when she saw who it was through the peephole.
Her old friend Lux had come to grace her once more; Revin would be disappointed to say that she'd not missed her, for she has; her company shone her life away from the darkness, if temporary only. And the faintest hint of attraction was evident in the way her mind crawled itself further into sinful darkness, recounting the time when they had kissed; Ravage was a nice woman, her favourite, but the memory the Summoners had screwed up to mess with her was wrong. She kissed Lux that day, not Ravage.
She ran her finger across her nose tip, feeling the jagged, barely visible scar and shivering when the memories came back.
"Hello, Lux." She supposed, after opening the door, to at least try and rekindle these lost feelings; the world was too cruel, and a lover in this time for her was something delicately put and desperately needed.
Lux didn't say anything, for her eyes betrayed it all; for the matter of her immortality mattered little to Luxanna Crownguard, keeping her sexuality from her brother and highly male-dominated countrymen alike was her main priority, and it seemed to have taken Lux for a ride in her mind. It fragmented her waking hours into sleeping ones, and eventually, her life was set for a spin as the world followed, destroying whatever little life she had anyway, replacing it with simple droning and walking, eating, breathing and the like.
Luxanna lived, but didn't live.
Well, until she felt the soft embrace of her old, secret lover's lips upon her own. Her eyes widened as she pushed Revin away, eyes darting along with her head left and right for the spying eyes of a fellow Demacian or a certain Freljord queen, but none were visible.
She sighed, before leaning upwards and whispering, just audible over her own beating heart, into Revin's ear. "I missed you."
Revin guided Luxanna to her bed, smiling as Luxanna simply sighed in a wistful nature and leaned for support.
Revin stroked Lux's hair as she fell into the dreamland, laying them both down gently as she, too, slept softly.
Her dreams were replaced from their norm with images of Luxanna Crownguard.
(^^^^^^)
Lux had awoken feeling refreshed, only to hear two familiar voices shouting beyond her borrowed room. She knew instantly why she was curled up against her old and new lover, memories of the night before, if uneventful, still causing a small smile on her lips to flower.
"Revin, are you...?" She lifted her head, beyond the white haired woman's chest, to see two already wide open eyes, red, boring into the door with hatred.
Once the shouts died down from beyond the door into frantic knocks, Revin sighed. Without warning to Lux, she used her magic, staying perfectly still stroking circles into Lux's back, opening the door.
Kayle and Morgana burst through, dragging along with them an unwanted sight. Bound and gagged, there lay, before Morgana and Kayle, a frightened looking Katarina. Revin simply chuckled, before leaning slightly waving her empty hand, never moving while Lux tried to make herself as small as possible- none of the others had noticed her yet, so it must be working.
A small flicker shone in Revin's eyes as she willed the cloth wrapped around Katarina's mouth to unwrap itself.
As soon as she did, her ears were filled with expletives and curses so loud, the hallways and fellow rooms echoed with various curses too vulgar to name. She sighed, rubbing her temple with one hand while slamming the door shut with her magic with the other.
Luxanna wriggled free of Revin's grip as Revin stood up, and Lux hid beneath the covers.
Katarina noticed.
The others did not.
That was good enough for Revin.
"Katarina, explain, quietly, why you're here, interrupting my sleep?" Revin's eyebrow raised a fraction, and when Katarina was about to point out that Lux was there, the ice cold glare sent her way from Revin shut her up and causes re-evaluation of her situation.
Kayle spoke instead. "We caught her, as we passed by, trying to sneak her way into this room."
Morgana spoke, as if in awe. "We actually had a decent conversation with one another..."
Kayle nodded, Revin sighed. "Look, while it is appreciated, I do not think this," she motioned to the bound hands and feet "was all that necessary."
While she used her magic to unbind Katarina, Kayle frowned at Revin. "She is an assassin for Noxus, Revin. Why else but to kill you would she be here?"
Morgana was about to speak, but Revin beat them to it. "To ask questions, but of course."
She closed her open mouth.
Revin leaned downwards as the assassin, lightning fast, drew a dagger from her hip. Everyone in the room, Lux included, froze at the sight as the dagger travelled to Revin's neck, but stopped just before piercing the skin. Revin looked calm.
"Ask you questions Katarina."
Katarina faltered before sighing, placing her dagger back at her waist.
As Revin willed the other two immortals out, keeping Lux's existence within her room a secret, Katarina sat down next to the light mage in question while she asked, to Revin, the meaning of her own existence and how she managed to push through; Through and beyond the nightmares, the heartache, the screaming and shouting plaguing her mind.
She simply nodded to Lux.
(^^^^^^)
Leona smacked her forearm as an offensive weapon into the offending target of her current ire; the dummy in her line of sight and range was obliterated as she swung her arms, legs, fists, feet and sword, each doing damage beyond repair.
The door opened, and in hovered- literally- Revin.
She had understood the woman now, knew her now, and they would consider each other, if not close friends, very close acquaintances.
"Revin." She nodded.
Revin nodded back at her, before waving to the arena for a spar.
Leona shook her head. "Training?"
Revin nodded hers. She led the way to the boxing arena and took up her standard kick boxing stance as she slammed her feet mercilessly into the armoured palms of Leona.
Once Leona flinched, Revin stopped. She began to throw punches instead, all the while talking.
Punch. "So, you looked frustrated."
"Of course I am." came the terse reply.
Punch, punch, kick. "May I ask why?"
A pause, then "My heart."
Punch, knee, elbow, punch. "Matters of or heart in general?"
Pause. "Matters."
She stopped practising her unarmed combinations for when Champions got a little too close for her liking, indicating to a small bench with her hand. "Sit. Explain."
Leona then began rambling out her heart's loneliness. "It matters of Pantheon. Childhood friends, and he and I have never even seen each other in a different light before yesterday." Revin waved her hand to continue. "He explained that he had been thinking about me a lot recently, more so than usual."
Revin nodded. "You believe he has feelings."
She nodded again, but Leona simply shook her head, placing it within her metal palms. "I don't see him that way, and if I'm wrong, the friendship that we hold together with each other may be shattered." She sighed. "It is frustrating."
Revin, always of few words, simply nodded, Leona sighing once more. "He is wonderful, splendid company and an excellent fighter; anyone would be happy for him as a husband, but..."
She need not say more. Revin was a master when It came to the matters of th eheart, so when she saw how Leona was distressed about dating her best friend- her male best friend- it clicked.
"Diana."
Leona knew not to question, so she simply nodded. "Yes...she may hate me, but...I can't hate her. Hating her would mean to hate myself, as I once, too, was betrayed by my own people; I overcame it, instead of leaving, though. That may be the only common ground we have."
"Talk to her, ask her to listen."
"I would if I could, but I have no idea where she is, and even if she will listen to me."
Revin tapped her shoulder, and Leona looked up to see her red eyes looking heind her, just over Leona's shoulder. "Good luck, Leona."
Revin then blinked out of existence, leaving Leona alone with whomever it was that was behind her.
"I...see...so, the Solari has feelings for a Lunari?"
Leona jumped, watching as Revin simply nodded her head, before leaving through the exit; she had sworn she had just seen her vanish, and then there she was placing a hand on Diana's shoulder, as if to comfort.
"Diana..."
"Leona..."
The door closed.
(^^^^^^)
(OMAKE)
It had been a year since Revin had arrived at the Institute, the entire building rumbling with deafening silence as she hovered past; the Summoners had allowed her some materials, so she created a new outfit for herself.
A form fitting, black cotton threaded, long sleeve vest; above it, covering her chest, was a small, sleeveless metal plated vest made of Thornmail, a material often found far below the surface of the ground, and incredibly hard to acquire, even for Summoners. While the material itself was known as Thornsilk, the actual composite of such form was sleek, as opposed to the heavy bulked armours often seen when encountering those wearing said material.
It was snug, form fitting and most importantly, it protected her from physical damage.
And besides, Lux decided that she'd rather that Revin wear it as a...nightly occasion, so to speak.
And, again, needless to say, she was all more than happier to comply.
(^^^^^^)
Well...this is never, probably, going to see the light of...whatever time you're reading this in. Besides, if you do like it, drop a small review, or large if you want, and let me know what was good or bad; or just send me shit tons of spam for no reason whatsoever (Don't actually do that).
Hope you enjoyed.