A/N: My thoughts on how Vayne's parents were killed. Please enjoy and review~
The Dark should be feared
The absence of light that brings horror
A stage set with a macabre play
For the sinister who do not fear the gloom
And from it blooms black magicks
But Darkness within should be most feared
Extinguished light; no place for a soul
It is here where the tormented beast stalks Her prey
With no thought of respite
Undying, ageless power none can quell
Vengeance, spite, and wickedness converge therein
Show only trembling reverence for the Night which cannot be known
Stranger still are those who rule it, fight it, exist only in its essence
When shadows no longer hold terror,
What is to be feared, save for what is within?
Shauna Vayne was not one to muddle in political pleasantries. She acted. Which was why she'd risked life and limb stealthing by Noxian guards once every week for the past month. It was not information about the tattered government she was after. Vayne had more personal reasons. The vigilante existed on vengeance; the raw primal power that burned beneath her hardened visage. It consumed her soul in conflagration.
On the verge of uncovering the secrets of Noxus' most notorious cult, Vayne grew ever closer to unearthing the witch who had stolen her parents: LeBlanc. The reclusive woman had taken her bait encrypted in the Journal of Justice – and reciprocated with an even more encoded reply. But the time for words was long past. In the midst of her territory, Vayne would take advantage of the witch's illusion of invulnerability – and avenge her parent's death, once and for all. She slid deeper into the back alleys, letting the night cloak her.
"The witch will come out," she assured herself, "and I'll have the pleasure of slaying her in her own domain."
LeBlanc, in fact, was out for a stroll. Dressed in an elegant façade, she had traded her porcelain complexion for a blonde-curled woman. Posing as a young, vibrant noble, she'd enjoyed the spoils of a duke's exemplary party. Yet as the night stretched on, she found herself itching to return to the quiet dark of her hidden abode.
The moon was barely a slice in the thick fabric of the sky, and Noxus' underworld wasn't' exactly lit brilliantly. As such, LeBlanc barely noticed the other walker in her path. She managed to dodge the incoming person, but not before brushing shoulders.
"Watch it," the passerby growled. LeBlanc heard the unmistakable clank of metal from beneath the person's cloak. It did not perturb her, for no one in their right mind didn't carry weapons in this part of the city. Defensively, the deceiver held up her hands and let him – or her – continue on their way.
Vayne shouldered roughly by. She had caught a glimpse of the face – a petty noble – and not who she was looking for. Time was wasting.
LeBlanc, however, recognized the sunglasses and cloak of a familiar adversary on the Fields of Justice. She paused in a small patch of light and let a clone form in her place, diving into the shadows a moment later. The illusion on her dissolved as LeBlanc threw her voice through her twin.
"You're a bit far from home, Shauna Vayne." She sneered.
As anticipated, the night hunter whipped around and fired silver bolts in quick succession into the clone. LeBlanc wasted no time as her double shrieked and disappeared; she cast her sigil over Vayne's head, subsequently shooting her chain. All the while, Vayne fired wildly, rage contorting her face. LeBlanc's spells struck true, though, and the hunter froze – silenced and snared.
"Surprised to see me?" LeBlanc said wickedly. Her voice resounded through the alleyway.
Vayne struggled free of the snare and volleyed a few warning shots, "You saved me the trouble of hunting you down."
"Oh really, a Demacian fly goes willingly into my web, what a treat." LeBlanc cackled. "And why would this be?"
"Don't play coy, witch, you killed my parents," Vayne snarled.
Leblanc remained silent for a moment, "me? So that's why you are investigating the Black Rose – you think I killed your parents?" Vayne tried to interrupt, "such petty antics Shauna Vayne!"
"Silence, I pass judgment and your time has come – answer me LeBlanc!"
From where she hid LeBlanc could see the dull silver gleam of Vayne's crossbow, waiting, shifting at every sound. "It may come as a surprise to you," LeBlanc sighed airily, making her voice echo, "but I don't exactly keep a record of the people I've murdered." She could tell Vayne was rapidly narrowing down the source of her voice – but with little avail. "Don't flatter yourself, girl," she spat, "if I did kill your parents they were merely some expendable obstacle – not noteworthy in the least."
"You dare speak of my parents that way?" Vayne fired wildly again – this time a bolt clanged off the building less than a meter from LeBlanc. "I know it was you," Vayne panted, "you disguised yourself as a hag and you tortured them – do you remember now?!"
LeBlanc did remember…something. She leaned back against the building; focusing on the shadows. Memories surged forward and flickering images swam before her eyes…
It was years ago – a day Evaine would never forget: the day she assumed the title Leblanc. At the height of the cult's persecution, remaining members straggled together to heed Emilia's urgent call. The former LeBlanc had been so painfully weak – the years had caught her and no illusion could hide her imminent passing. Evaine knew more than anyone how frail Emilia had become, so it hadn't surprised her when she proceeded to name a successor.
Still none had been more shocked than Evaine when Emilia chose her.
She knew she was qualified – young, powerful, and determined. Yet the burden of responsibility remained. But beneath the guise of LeBlanc, the dark, tantalizing power, it had been easy to wash away all doubt. Sometimes deceiving herself was the easiest choice. As she accepted the headdress and staff, Leblanc had looked over the crowd of mages – her people. All of their faces remained frozen in crystal clear perfection in her memory – and the sadness lingered that only a fraction of them still lived. Swain was one of the surviving few, though he had cast off the chains of the Black Rose ages ago. He had stood propped up on his cane, and as she took her place at the head, he looked so proud of her. For a moment, her past self could almost forget all her anger directed at his betrayal.
The meeting had quickly disbanded thereafter. Emilia pulled LeBlanc aside. She could barely stand on her own, though powerful magic still coursed through her ragged frame.
"Matron, my time has come. It will not be long before I pass the boundary. You knew, and now the rest of the Black Rose does," she rasped, limping into her bedchamber. Evaine followed her uneasily
"You must rest," she begged, but the old woman waved her off, settling onto a stool before her vanity.
"The Black Rose is yours, Evaine," she croaked, absently running a brush through the few remaining strands of hair she had. "Protect it – you know what must be done."
"I do but-"
"And promise me you won't forget whatever relationship you fostered with Swain," she gazed off at noting in particular, a maddened gleam catching her dull eyes.
"He betrayed me!" Evaine snarled, her fury manifesting itself in crackling bits of newfound magic about her.
"I did not say forgive, only rememb-" a coughing fit seized Emilia. LeBlanc rushed to her side.
"Please rest! I'll find a doctor – there's medicine, somewhere…"
"No." Emilia shrugged off LeBlanc, "my time for rest is nigh and it will be eternal. While I still have breath, there is much to be done," before LeBlanc could interject she continued, "I must complete this one last task – I'll return by daybreak, Matron, you have my word," she broke off hacking.
"Emilia-"
"Don't deny an old woman her dying request," she ordered, the former aura of authority commanding her once more.
LeBlanc, in her youthful naivety, hadn't the heart to deter her and let her go. When Emilia returned she looked more haggard than ever – but her eyes blazed with a fire that could only mean she'd achieved her quest. Evaine dared not ask what caused such a triumph. The new LeBlanc remained by her side until the illness took her a week later.
LeBlanc had not thought twice about that night until now…
She suppressed the memories, feeling a tad disoriented from such a vivid flashback, intensified by the dark. A hag had killed Vayne's parents, and who would have been powerful enough even in such a broken state to do the job? Only Emilia. The timeline matched up almost perfectly…
"Where are you LeBlanc?" Vayne bellowed, "did you flee like the coward you are?"
"No." LeBlanc said with such ardor, Vayne paused to listen. "A true coward hides behind a mask of virtue – as if to justify murder under the guise of vengeance. How you deceive yourself so."
Vayne hissed, "better this than to be entirely consumed in wickedness." She took her great crossbow and cocked it, "Come out and fight me."
"Wreaking vengeance on me will not satiate your thirst for revenge," LeBlanc sighed deeply, letting the pause engulf the alley before proclaiming, "LeBlanc killed your parents, but I did not."
"Liar! that's impossible – you are LeBlanc. Do you deny even that?!"
"Fool! You claim to know your prey yet you know nothing about me. Leblanc is merely a title…and the woman you're looking for is named Emilia. And she is long dead."
"It…can't be," Vayne sounded stricken. She dropped her heavy crossbow, its weight suddenly too much to bear. Though LeBlanc had lost the pretense of making her voice echo, leaving herself easy to pinpoint, Vayne had lost the desire to attack. A seeping cold began to settle over her blazing fury.
LeBlanc watched the girl with cold indifference. She watched a moment longer and deemed the night hunter subdued enough to make an appearance. "Emilia was the former LeBlanc. In her sickness, she became delusional, mad, so to speak, and it does not surprise me that she would go on one last killing rampage. She died only days after she most likely murdered your parents." LeBlanc wondered why she bothered to tell this – she owed Vayne, her attempted murderer, nothing.
…Yet for once the truth was demanded, inescapable, and plain as the night. Her words tore Vayne apart as much as they made her whole.
Moonlight vaguely outlined Vayne's figure; it was shaking, "all these years," she choked, "and I can't avenge them," she turned fierce eyes to LeBlanc, "I could kill you."
"And what would it gain? Another corpse heaped onto the bloody pile? The work of a common murderer." LeBlanc lighted down into the alley, "I do believe this exchange is at an end," she said primly and started to stride away.
Vayne however, was not finished.
"Time for reckoning, LeBlanc," she snarled, hefting her crossbow and taking aim at the deceiver.
The bolt fired.
LeBlanc walked heedlessly as it shrieked home. Moments before it hit, her hand flashed up and caught it; inches from her skull. The silver burned her skin – just as Vayne's hatred seared her.
LeBlanc paused to speak, tossing the bolt aside, "this evening has been very telling, Shauna Vayne. Perhaps you'll begin to see that the world is very different for those who cannot see beyond what is placed before their very eyes," she cast a sidelong glance at Vayne who was posed to strike again. When the vigilante didn't, LeBlanc slipped out of the alley, dissolved into nothing; as if devoured by the shadows themselves.
Vayne let her weapon hang limp. Why had she not shot it? Why hadn't she…?
Because LeBlanc had been right. Killing her meant next to nothing. The knowledge swimming in Vayne's consciousness crippled her. For so long she had sought vengeance. Lusted for it – to redress her weakness and failure.
And now she could not even have that.
Shaken as she was though, the night hunter knew better than to tarry in enemy lands. She departed swiftly, wearied feet tracing the familiar path to a great marble mausoleum – the very one her parents were buried within. Vayne clambered to the top of the building; she gazed from her silent perch to the adjoining graveyard and to the graying horizon.
The hunter kept a silent vigil as the minutes passed. She remembered the first time she'd peered out from the same perch, the day her parents had been buried. From that moment on she had pledged to purge the world of evil. Her insatiable drive could never be conquered, but still…
…she felt she had failed herself in a way. She whispered fervently, running a hand over the smooth silver veined marble, "even now, I cannot avenge you. I'm sorry."
The Night Hunter straightened herself. Shauna Vayne did not rest. She acted.
As she swung herself down, she reflected upon her meeting with LeBlanc. Truth had been thrust upon her bright as day – but it was the night that had unveiled it. Turning her back to the dawn, Vayne murmured knowingly, "in the dark, all is laid bare…"
At the same time in Noxus, when the dawn light came, LeBlanc did not notice it. She had retreated to her abode and now sat before her mirror. Wearily, she removed the headdress, and the face that lay beneath was less than gorgeous. She smirked at the reflection all the same. Would she someday fall to the level of Emilia? Was she foolish enough to think someone as wicked as herself wouldn't?
LeBlanc belonged in this world of darkness. She and the Night Hunter were alike in that way, both a part of the ruthless and enticing power that followed in its ilk.
So was the path blazed for those one with the night.
If you liked this, check out my full-length fic "Vici"