Well ladies and gents… it's been a while, but I'm back with another story. I've actually had this one waiting to get out of my head for the longest time, but due to some unfortunate twists and turns this year (personal stuff including a broken wrist, of all things), I was unable to do so. Until now, that is. So here we are – without further ado, please enjoy~
Undersong, CH1
She'd always hated Zaun.
The people here were rude beyond all measure and the air was always so thick and nauseating. They had somehow managed to turn pollution into an art form, a fact made painfully clear by the noxious fumes billowing skyward at all hours of the day, towering above the crown of the city like so many bloated pillars of living darkness. "Zaun Gray" they called it, the colorless gloom that always seemed to hang overhead. It made Lux physically ill just to be anywhere near the city, let alone inside of it.
And yet, here she was.
Her slender silhouette flitted through the seemingly endless maze of corridors and alleyways, content to blend in with the crowds and remain as inconspicuous as humanly possible. A heavy cloak blanketed her features while a faded muffler sat wrapped loosely around the lower half of her throat and chin, in such a way that only a few stray strands of platinum blond were ever visible from underneath. Even so, one hand seemed to be permanently clasped at the edge of her hood, delicate fingers tugging downwards as if to combat the slightest chance that an errant breeze might blow her cover back at any given moment. This was Zaun after all – home to the largest slums in all of Runeterra – definitely no place for a Demacian to be milling about, much less one with a last name like Crownguard.
So… why was she here again?
It was a fair question, one Lux had kicked around in her head countless times over the past few days. The short answer was simply that she had no choice in the matter; her mission had dictated so. And the long one? Lux was here because somewhere in this seedy cesspool that was Zaun's underbelly… somewhere hidden amongst all the filth and squalor…
He was here too.
One confirmed sighting, not seven days ago, in the southernmost district of lower Zaun. A place often not-so-affectionately referred to as the 'Blood Barrios,' where many of the Noxian exiled and displaced had been forced to settle after the war. It was a shaky lead at best, but Demacian intelligence reports were rarely if ever wrong. To that end Lux had spent the better part of nearly three days searching high and low – scouring every dive bar, every speakeasy, every house of ill repute and hole in the wall in the area – all for naught.
The man was as good as a ghost… and now only one spot remained.
Lux furrowed her brow and her hands balled into tiny fists beneath her sleeves. She was standing at the mouth of a rather ominous set of stairs recessed into the alley, a passageway that only seemed to lead deeper into the bowels of Zaun's seediest district. Her eyes flashed to the battered placard overhead. The Brazen Bull… a dive bar turned opium den, and the last location on a very long and unsavory list.
Please be here.
The corners of her mouth curved downward as she exhaled, rose-colored lips shivering softly from the ever-present chill in the air. It took a few moments for her senses to adjust to the darkness. Gradually though, with each clack of her heels against the damp (and remarkably steep) stone steps, the shadows began to congeal around her and the cold seemed to all but drain away. She was standing in a small foyer now, a room densely packed and dimly lit along its length. Lux couldn't help but wrinkle her nose, fighting back the sudden urge to cough and retch from the pit of her stomach. The air here was warm and heavy with the smell of thistleweed and other opiates, the stench intense enough to coax tears from her eyes. Drawing in a shallow breath, Lux steadied herself and surveyed the room as best as she could.
Was… this… really where she would find him?
The question seemed to answer itself when her gaze happened upon the silhouette of a lone shadow tucked away in the far corner of the bar, nursing what appeared to be a half-empty tumbler of ice and gin. Nothing about his attire screamed out of the ordinary, what with a pair of bootcut trousers slung low about his hips and a sleeveless hooded shirt, dark like the feathers of a raven's coat, clinging tightly to every pale sinew of his upper form. His left arm was laid bare; even in the dim light Lux could still make out the lattice of scars – some thin, some jagged – etched into every ridge of his slender musculature. His right arm, she noticed though, was wrapped tightly in long strips of ivory cloth, the bandages extending all the way from his fingertips to just under the curve of his shoulder.
Lux approached him cautiously at first, one step at a time, as if any sudden movement might have caused him to vanish into thin air before her very eyes. The sound of her own heart pounding against her ribs only made each step that much more daunting, not to mention the way her vision was starting to blur from the edges in, drowning out everything in her field of view save for his dark silhouette. Was it really him? After all these years, was the man before her… really…
"T-Talon?"
The figure stiffened, the fingers of his bandaged hand moving to curl around the rim of his glass. His head tilted ever so slightly, lips parting but saying nothing. The ebon hood draped over his features did well to obscure everything save for a sliver of his profile – namely a few loose strands of dark chestnut and the lower half of a pale, angular jawline.
Lux's heart skipped a beat. She wanted to reach out – to touch him – to make sure this wasn't some sort of cruel trick, a product of her own imagination. Lacking the courage to do so though, she instead took the seat beside him and found a spot for her hand to rest on the counter next to his, the heat from the wood seeping into her trembling fingers. The warmth felt surprisingly soothing.
"It's been a long time…" The blonde whispered as her eyes remained anchored to the counter top, ice-blue orbs shimmering like the ripples in a pond. "All these years… I thought you were dead."
"I am."
"Don't say that!" A single tear splashed on the gnarled wood between her fingers. "Please don't. Not when there's so much I want to tell you… so much I never got to say." Her gaze fell by the wayside once more as an awkward silence set over the two. "There's no time for that though. Not anymore. Right now… we need your help."
"We?"
"All of us. Not just Demacia, but Noxus as well."
"Noxus is dead," Talon spat out before knocking back what was left of his drink, the gin-soaked ice cubes in his glass swirling about with a soft clink. "Or haven't you heard?"
"Talon please… just hear me out. Ever since the Night of Fire, things have only gone from bad to worse."
Talon grit his teeth. The Night of Fire was the name they'd bestowed upon the violent insurgency in Noxus, led by Swain and the Black Rose nearly three years ago. It was the single bloodiest chapter in Noxian history – scores of citizens left dead, entire districts burned to the ground, a government eradicated overnight – and a pathetic moniker like that did no justice to the bloodshed and anguish that followed for many months to come.
"The Demacian military is on permanent high alert now. War is but a formality at this point. Jarvan has already deployed several thousand troops along the border betw-"
"And how is your husband doing these days?" Talon lilted in the flattest, most scornful tone imaginable, casually stirring the ice cubes in his glass all the while.
Lux could only bite her lip, the girl's fingernails curling into the counter top.
"H-He's… not… my husband!"
"Not yet, anyway."
"Talon!" Lux yelped as she pounded the counter. He'd clearly struck a nerve with that one. A nearby bottle clattered off of the countertop when she hit it, prompting several of the other patrons to cast glances their way. Her cheeks now bright red, Lux tugged on the edge of her hood before leaning in closer, her voice reduced to a whisper. "You and I both know that Swain's ambition was never to stop at Noxus. We now have reports that he is in possession of a weapon… one of unimaginable power, the likes of which no one has ever seen before. The threat is very real, I assure you."
Talon narrowed his brow but otherwise seemed unmoved. "What kind of weapon?"
"W-we're not sure exactly." Lux glanced away yet again. "We only know it by its codename." She'd begun to chew on her thumbnail as she spoke, perhaps absentmindedly so. An old habit of hers Talon mused, something she often did when she was feeling overly anxious or excited. "The way they speak of it though, it has to be some kind of mobile arsenal, something capable of reaching any point in Valoran with relative ease. If Swain were allowed to use something like that, the damage could be catastrophic. We're talking hundreds of thousands, if not millions-"
"And what does all this have to do with me?" Talon sighed before reaching out to gently swat her fingers away from her mouth. For a moment Lux was utterly taken aback by the gesture, but as realization sank in, heat quickly rose to color her cheeks.
"Talon…" she whispered finally. "We need you. You know Noxus like the back of your hand… you've been inside the inner sanctum countless times. You might be one of the only people still alive to have done so. With your help, I know we can devise a strategy to infiltrate the city and end this madness before it ever begins."
"Lux…"
Talon whispered her name in that deep tone of his after a long pause. So dark and rich his voice was, but also so cold… wrought with bitterness and venom. Even now, it never failed to send a chill down her spine.
"You're joking, right?"
The blonde's heart sank into her stomach.
"Talon, please!" She pleaded now, her gaze narrowing sharply in consternation. "This isn't a game. So many lives are at stake!"
"Are they now?"
"Y-You can't go on living like this, with your head in the sand."
"Oh, but I can."
The blonde faltered after that, her lips oscillating back and forth as if to contemplate her next choice of words very carefully. Lux knew what she was about to say would hurt him, no doubt stirring up old memories best left undisturbed in whatever dark corner of his mind he'd elected to bury them. She didn't want to hurt him – lord of all people not him. He'd suffered enough already, but there was just too much at stake to leave empty-handed now. No, she had to at least try and persuade him, even if it meant opening up those old wounds. Closing her eyes, Lux drew in a breath before leaning in and whispering softly into the corner of his ear.
"What would Katarina think… if she could see you like this?"
Talon stiffened. That was all the warning Lux would get. A split second later she was six inches off the floor, pinned against the wall by a single sinewy forearm under her throat. In the blink of an eye Talon's entire demeanor had shifted. Gone was that casual indifference, that drunken cynicism, only to be replaced with something more akin to cold, simple rage. Lux opened her mouth to cry out and yet the only sound she could muster was that of a wet, muffled pule. Through a haze she watched as his lips parted softly to voice a response, the words barely audible above the sound of her own choking and the swell of blood rushing to her head.
"Don't you ever… ever… say her name again…"
The last few syllables Talon punctuated with the full weight of his arm and only when Lux's struggling had ceased did he relax his grip, allowing her slender little frame to find the balls of its feet once more. Shrinking now, Lux clutched at her throat, her ice-blue eyes blinking back tears of pain as they lifted to search his gaze. She could see his face in its entirety for the first time now, all but tucked away under the folds of that tattered ebon hood. The years had not been particularly kind to him. Indeed, time had not been kind to any of them really, but in typical Talon fashion he'd somehow managed to suffer more than most. He'd lost everything after all – his family, his home… perhaps even the will to live. Three long years had left him a shadow of his former self. His once proud features seemed so tired now, so gaunt and pale. His body was riddled with scars, both physical and invisible to the naked eye. Even those long, feathery bangs of his – the ones that always seemed to cling to the sides of his face, framing those angular features like a lovely, dark picture frame – were now matted with just a few hints of silver here and there. Yes, Talon was truly a shadow now… still dark and alluring in a way Lux had always found beautiful, but alas, just a shell of a human being.
Well, perhaps not entirely so.
At least one thing had managed to stay the same after all these years. One thing had weathered the test of misery, the toll of time. Talon's eyes – those razor sharp points of molten amber, ever lucent and defiant, smoldering like twin suns suspended in a sea of darkness…
Talon's eyes hadn't changed one bit.
"I… I'm sorry," Lux uttered in a hoarse whisper as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. "This was a mistake after all." Without another word she turned to push past him, disappearing into the darkness just as surreptitiously as she'd first appeared.
Talon watched her go but said nothing. For the longest time he simply stood there with his head resting against the wall and his gaze hidden from view, unmoving save for the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He could feel the eyes upon him now – the ever watchful, ever wary gazes of the other patrons occupying the bar. This place was a viper's nest after all, a veritable treasure trove of the very worst mankind had to offer. Criminals, thugs and lowlifes, the whole lot of them. More than a few likely bore grudges against Noxus, for one reason or another. His little spat with Lux had piqued their interests no doubt and in all the commotion she'd managed to cry out his former affiliation at least a handful of times. With a sigh Talon tossed a few coins atop the bar counter before making his way to the exit.
It was raining again.
Talon exhaled softly upon stepping out into the cold embrace of another soggy night, his breath diffusing around him like the burning embers of a half-lit cigarette. It often rained in Zaun around this time of year. Of course Noxus hadn't been much different in that regard, but for some reason the weather here just felt that much more miserable. The raindrops seemed heavier and the puddles more viscous, all tainted raspy metallic hues. It was quite a depressing sight when one actually stopped to think about it, which was why Talon rarely did so. Sure the lower wards of Zaun were just as shitty as everywhere else, but at least you could live your life out here in relative peace, as long as you kept your business to yourself.
Damn it, Lux…
That girl was a magnet for trouble. She'd always been that way, even back when they'd first laid eyes upon one another. Back when things between them had been… different. It was no small feat on Lux's part that she'd somehow managed to track him down after all these years, but what exactly had she expected of him? That he'd drop everything just to partake in some silly little pipe dream to "save" a world that had already forsaken him and everything he'd once held so dear?
Fuck the world.
There was nothing left worth saving anyway.
"Hold it," a grim voice called out from somewhere beyond the darkness of the alleyway, snapping Talon out of his reverie. Damn it. He'd gotten lost in his own thoughts again… let his guard down for the second time today. Cursing under his breath Talon wheeled about slowly to face his would-be inquisitor.
The brute was tall, that was for sure. His neck (if it still qualified as one) was thicker than Talon's thigh and ended in a bulbous slack-jaw for a head, clean-shaven save for a pointed tuft of peppered grey under his lower lip. Talon recognized his ugly face from the bar; the man must have followed him… and from the looks of things, he'd brought a few friends along with him.
"The blonde in the bar," the man grunted as he flexed his neck, the action succeeded by the ominous crackle of several vertebrae popping into place, "she called you… a Noxian. Is that true, boy?"
"Maybe." Talon responded without hesitation, his hands falling to his sides, palms relaxed. There was no use trying to hide it now.
The brute began to chuckle, prompting his cronies to do the same… all of them faceless goons, little more than stringy musculature, pockmarks and leers. "Well then." Another step forward and the two now stood toe to toe. Talon could almost taste the warm whiskey breath billowing across his nose. "Why don't you go back to the sewers where you belong?" The man grinned as the others began to take positions around them. "You Noxian refugees… you're like stray dogs, the whole lot of you. We don't need filth like you in our city, understand?"
Talon couldn't help but shake his head, seemingly unfazed by the man's posturing. "Oh, I understand perfectly," he whispered under his breath, his tone callous and altogether laced with vitriol. Slowly but surely the assassin's steely gaze narrowed and the edges of his lips began to work their way into the initial stages of a rather wicked-looking grin.
"There's already plenty of filth to go around."