Chapter 1 - A difficult Case
Higgs
"You want tips? Ok. Let's start with some common sense: She's a soldier. Done. Draw the conclusions, wrap it up, call it a day. Hell, Came into the league and the first thing she did was run to the training field. That should tell you everything you'd ever need to know - and if you're going to ask me what you can do to make her 'a real champion,'" He wagged his fingers at the notion of a 'real champion' - as if such a ridiculous thing actually existed.
"Dump the combat manual on her. Cross your fingers that she knows how to read, if you're lucky. Or on the far more likely scenario that you're here trying to weasel out of it, let me make it plain for you: There is not a chance in hell of bailing out. Answer any questions?"
"Actually, sir, that's not... err exactly my question." I mumbled meekly.
Well fuck, he's onto me.
The organizer, A.K.A the soul crusher - infamous around us lower ranked Summoners as the usual reason grown men run through the halls bawling like thirteen year old girls. The one man you don't even make eye contact with for any period of time - also happens to be the one man in charge of organizing the league paperwork - including managing resources, summoners, and ultimately champions.
Ergo, if you've got a problem in the league - you're going to have a bad time.
The busy man spared me one side-ways glance, making his distaste of my presence as blatant as possible. As for me, I was wondering just how many hours he passed practicing on the mirror to be able to make such a snide face - while keeping an eye out on where his next steps took him - which was the amazing part. I'd have crashed into something fragile ages ago.
Still. This was my last resort to blow off this job and I wasn't going to back down without a fight. League be damned! I had a thicker hide then those man-lady Summoners who'd run under their beds at a glance from the organizer. I had balls damn it. And besides, if I couldn't get out of this job nothing else would matter anymore. What's the saying, Nothing to lose?
The man rambled for a moment. "Do I look like I've got time to guess your questions? Tell it straight up, or get back to work. Summoners these days..."
I snuck in what I came for, bullying my way in: "Why me? Sir,"
He took a quick pause, as if he couldn't believe I had asked him that.
"Oh High Summoner Regiald in heaven. Deliver me from this stupidity. You've got to be in the 30's rank in order to even be qualified for this - they're letting anyone be 30 these days?" He sighed, exasperated. "Okman's razor kid. There's no complicated reason for this: You volunteered for it. Remember that paper you signed a month ago? Lucky you - you got the job! Amazing how that works eh? Math. You should learn it someday. Useful stuff."
The sarcasm in his voice was pooling at my feet here.
"But out of everyo-"
"Let me stop you right there, I see where you're coming from. You are everyone. She's new, unimpressive background for a champion - League's sake, she's a homeless ex-military veteran for the past years, and a traitor to her country. You add the points on that one: No one in their right mind would chance their career on that girl, besides dim-wits or people really playing the odds. And I can't tell which side you fall on." The organizer trucked onwards and turned a corner, plowing directly into a group of Summoners. They fled from his sight like fish gracefully dodging a shark. He didn't even bat an eye, and continued his rant. Leaving only terror and muffled sighs of relief in his wake.
And there I was, following dutifully behind. My life is going smoothly, obviously, thank you for your concern.
"The only one who had the balls to put their name down on possibly debuting this champion - You. Guess what: you won! Imagine that. Good job kid, pat yourself on the back. A real smart cookie you are."
In the end: Fuck giving up. My career was at stake, that's five years of crawling my way up here. Summoning champions ain't an easy job, it's not all margaritas, beaches, and watching the bushes for the jungler.
I switched my tactics up. If you can't pander to the megalomaniac, perhaps trying to reason with him.
"Really? A new champion and no one else wants to summon her? I mean, for example look at when Swain joined the league. Almost every veteran jumped up to summon him first. She's not that far off the chain of command from Swain." I mentioned innocently. He didn't appreciate that. Not one bit.
After the mother of all scoffs, he went straight for my throat again, figuratively speaking.
"Don't play cute with me Summoner. She's a glorified soldier from an archaic time. She fought for Noxus, got high honors, and became a commander, yada yada - the works. Then deserted after losing a battle to Ionians of all people – Ionians! The peace loving vegan eaters! How do you screw that up?!" He shuddered at the thought. "Which, I'll remind you in case you failed history too, Swain did not lose - and certainly didn't desert either. Now she's here, an aimless champion. Other champions out there sound like... I don't know, how about 'victory'? Just a thought."
I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to just flat out asking to be reassigned, but that option was drawing nearer and nearer. Life sucks.
"That's a harsh way of seeing her, Sir."
First time I volunteered at the shot of debuting a champion, with all the incentives even if I didn't get 'lucky.' I was a fresh level 30 - finally even allowed to throw my name in the pot and I went for the next champ that walked in the league. Greed got me here. Increase your influence by just offering to debute! They said... It'll be fun! They said... And like a sucker, I listened. Everything looked so good on paper - bastards scammed me!
The Organizer shrugged, "You're under a false impression that I care. Here's a hint: I don't. She's your problem now. The real question is why you're still badgering me - I swear by the league, If you follow me to the toilet you won't be the first summoner to have their eyebrows burned off. I haven't had to use a fire spell in days now. Days. That's a record. Need me to rephrase it in a way you understand? Lucky for you, I'm fluent in Idiot after having to deal with hundreds of your kind."
"No sir, picture perfect sir." Guess it can't be helped. Time to go with the direct approach. Like I have anything to lose now. "To be blunt and to the point, sir. I humbly request to be replaced by a summoner of better capabilities than I to debut her, sir."
"You're really desperate aren't you?"
I gulped. His voice had softened for a heartbeat, it just might be I could get lucky. League knows I could use some luck.
"Yes sir, I've just reached my 30th level sir, I spent five years working up to it. I was stupid, I wanted the perks for volunteering, I never thought I'd get picked, my entire career could disappear before it even took off. Sir."
The man stopped for a moment, and sighed deeply. "I was always a sucker for these moments, What's your name kid?"
No fucking way. Tonight, I'm cracking open the wine bottles and getting smashed.
"Higgs sir. Summoner Malcom V Higgs, or just Summoner Higgs." I felt my lips go dry. This was it.
"Higgs as in Higg's constant? Boy, you were real creative on that one." He gave me another critical eye, as if judging something. "All right, look at me for a moment, I want to see your face at least." He finally said after a year-long pause.
I brushed up my glasses, and hoped the mat of hair I had wasn't too unkempt. I couldn't help but keep a smile on my face. This was it, my last possible gambit, and it worked. I'll never ever again do something like this, swear it on all the gods of Valorium. Never again. Debut a champion you say? Sounds like fu- Nope. Nope. Nope. I'm out. Lesson learned.
"All right Higgs, I'll see if I can't find someone else. Will be an absolute pain for me, you better be thankful." The sweet words finally drifted in my ears and I felt free. I had to stop myself from squealing, because by the league that would be the most embarrassing moment in my life.
"Really Sir?! I'm free?"
The organizer looked me down with a warm smile and a playful glint in his eyes. He put both his hands on my shoulders, reassuringly shook them for a moment and answered my prayers.
"No."
"Thank you! Tha- Wait, what?"
Keeping both hands on my shoulders, his warm smile radiated mirth and never faded for a second.
"No. You're absolutely batshit insane if you think I'll let you off." With that he turned and continued on his way. I stood rigid, completely unsure of what to do next until the gears in my head started working again. Toilet. Coming soon. Only have 5 minutes tops. Risking eyebrows and hair now.
I sprinted my way back to him. He didn't appreciate that. Not one bit.
"You were funny at first Higgs, but now you're the not. Instead; annoying. And believe you me, that's not a place anyone wants to be. Bathroom's up on my right, last words Higgs, or if you're that desperate, I can already assist you on your suicide. And I'm not talking about the note you'll leave."
I gulped. I knew when to quit at least. I resigned and hung my head.
"Where is she now? Her quarters?"
"Finally a question that's made for an Organizer like me! Except moronic. You're talking about a solider here. Where do you think you'd find a serious soldier a week before a war? I even told you at the start. By the archmage, why did you even volunteer? Pay for your stupidity and maybe the lesson will carry over to whatever job you'll be doing next."
I let the man walk forward, hustling on his own little world.
Grumbling a bit to myself now, I turned and set a new course to visit Kate in the infirmary, wondering what career I should start looking into next. Maybe a bakery? Someone had to be making those rejuvenating biscuits. Might as well make some gold out of it.
Time to test if Kate was seeing me for my rugged good looks or if she'd be scrambling for the next ranked summoner when she learns of my new career plans.
Higgs
Walking up to the training grounds, I found the girl in question, several good hours after my all too pleasant run-in with the organizer and my side trip for a pep talk at the hospital coffee shop.
She worked alone with one training dummy. A few side scraps of personal items to the side, water, food, the works. Cleanly placed and organized. Almost meticulously so. Putting on my best face, I waved a cheery hello, but was met with utter silence.
She just kept at her routine, and completely ignored me. Amazing start. I really wished the Organizer would be wrong for more than one reason, but a gut feeling told me I might as well kiss my track record goodbye and start penning that suicide note. Time to just stick to the book and hope for the best. I still had a good week to make something of all this. "Champion, I'm Summoner Higgs, I'll be your first summoner for the fields of justice."
I introduce myself, courteously. "Good to know." She barked back in monotone.
Clearly she didn't care a bit for small talk. She hadn't even so much as glanced at me.
More silence. More sounds from her broken sword whacking away at the dummy.
I decided I should get on with my job and begin with the first steps. I was a professional after all. Like everything, there are steps and an organized set of preparations to do. Same goes when picking a new career. Assessment first. Sitting down I began documenting her moveset. She didn't display anything out of the ordinary on that first note. A very sad note indeed. I continued my observation for a few more minutes uninterrupted before she finally ventured first contact with me.
"How does it work?"
The silent girl speaks. Huzzah! Progress. Somewhat.
"What works? You'll have to forgive me, I can't read your mind just yet haha," I joked lightly.
She didn't smile, or laugh, so I stopped straightway leaving the awkward air to fester and do whatever it wanted. Riven paused for a bit clearly expecting I would understand what she meant.
"Summoners. You controlling me. I don't see the point of it. You're frail and unable to even lift my sword, let alone use it's powers. I'm a hundred times your superior, I should command my actions - not you."
Oh great, as if the Organizer wasn't already doubting my mental abilities enough as it was... All right then what would that man do in a time like this?
She's no Lux to talk to, but she's no Cho'gath either. I'll count that as a blessing she hasn't tried to slice me, yet. In my defense, I wouldn't make that much better of a training target then an immovable stuffed straw man. Summoners aren't known for their physical powers or running abilities. We have flash and teleport for a reason. A lazy reason but that's beside the point!
"How should I put it...Ah! I serve as more as a - let's say 'tactician'. I'll tell you where to be, and when to attack. It's a myth that we control every part of your body. We just summon you into the arena - hence our names as Summoners - and give you advice, along with maintaining communication between your team. What you do after is all up to you, as it should be. You're the one that represents your country or ideals as a champion. If we were the ones dictating all of the action, it wouldn't make sense to have champions in the first place."
Riven breathed a sigh of relief, she had probably been mulling this over for a while now. Would be strange wouldn't it, having ALL of your body controlled, especially by a man at that too. I laughed at the thought, which she replied with a hawk-like glance. Strike 2, no doubt.
"Oh! I'm just thinking abou - well, actually, I'll keep that to me." I said, looking down at the floor.
Wait. That's an even worse answer. Strike 3?
The sword whistled around and struck the training dummy, and again for a third time in slow successions. Basic strikes, done perfectly. If she was keeping track of the score, she showed she gave not a single damn about it. I noticed no other attempts at hitting a different target, no flurry of strikes, nothing fancy. Straightforward footwork, strikes that preserved maximum efficiency - This must be what she's used to, how she trains. She wasn't quick. In fact, she would practice the same exact strike, again and again.
So that when it actually came down to the fight, the attack would be executed perfectly from reflex, muscle memory. At least, that's what I concluded. Smart. A faint flicker of hope reared its tiny head in my mind. The need to tell her I wasn't going to be useless in the match began to ting upwards into my mind too. I decided to follow my gut and elaborate more to this girl just why I would be her best friend in the fight.
"Summoners keep you linked to the field, so when you... err, die, your soul and body are still well preserved. As per say, I'm the guardian making sure nothing screws up."
I bit my tongue. Probably not the best thing to talk to a champion first. Let's just tell her how she's going to die, multiple times. Yes, excellent point. I mentally berated myself. This was for sure strike 3. This whole summoner business is a lot harder then it looked like. Spells and theory were fine, but managing people was a whole different skillset.
"It doesn't bother me summoner. Death that is. Keep going." She said in between her strikes. Riven seemed to notice my pause and guessed correctly why. So she did have some people skills! Noted. She might also be suicidal. That bakery job was sounding closer and closer.
"Well, I'm just a redundancy. There's plenty of spells around Summoner's rift - err the arena you'll be fighting in. Anyhow those spells will see to it nothing bad happens. As for specifics: I can use my magic for other abilities that can cripple enemy champions at the best of times. I'm an adept at letting you teleport a short distance in any direction. In time you'll be able to call up on my skills when you think it'd help. For now, I'll be the one making the decisions."
She didn't even deign me a look. That's a rather hard spell, not every summoner can do that you know? I tutted inwardly but remained pleasant on the outside. First impressions and everything. Smile to the only thing that's going to keep your career afloat, no pressure.
"The main point is that in a fight you can only tell where the people around you are. So champions running around the other side of the jungle are pretty much impossible to pinpoint from your perspective. Without any form of communication, the fight's not coordinated and just a brawl. Spells are gimmicks. Teamwork and cooperation are what wins matches."
Riven understood that, I think. Or at least, she didn't rebuttal me. I almost allowed myself a smug victory smile, but stuffed it deep inside. She had been a commander after all, so she knew tactics and coordination like the back of her hand. This was probably textbook to her. We all have our own book we follow for comfort I suppose.
"Summoners on the other hand, get to see the entire battlefield, where the enemy champions were spotted last, where allied champions are and talk to each other to plan out ambushes and the likes. Same goes with the ward system. That's the main thing we offer champions in fights. You guys do the heavy work, and we tell you where the best spot is to do said work. As a team you make the best choice given the information and go with it."
"Eyes and swords." Riven grunted her approval, still focused on perfecting the same basic strike. I chuckled dryly a bit, she suggested a half-way decent metaphor. For a solider she might be more clever than the organizer gave her credit. I pocketed the small victory for latter.
"Yep. Exactly that. I'm your eyes and I tell you where to strike. Which is also why I'm here with you. I need to know your limits better then you do. Just how far I can push your buttons to win."
At this, Riven stopped training. Sweat had formed on her brow and the target dummy was nearly shredded to the core, despite Riven's slow steady strikes. She seemed to take my request seriously. Brown eyes and my own connected. Standing there, the sword slightly tipped to the ground and an expression of utmost determination. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. At this point, I felt I could understand just what she implied.
Talk the talk. But in the fight, you better know how to fly.
I could tell she didn't think I took this as seriously as she did. And then she voiced it. Because today could use more 'Let's insult Higgs'
"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, since I have no understanding of your abilities yet Summoner. But had you been in my army, I would have beaten that friendly attitude of yours down before the enemy could. Any other commander would have sent you to the coalmines as a lost cause without even trying. We don't waste time in Noxus."
As a summoner, I've battled a lot of times, but the fights have never been personal, or lasting, let alone physical for me at least. After a while you became numb to the entire thing.
Oh hi, what did you do today?
Nothing much, I just had Jax butcher Garen while he was sitting in a bush. Pretty funny.
It doesn't feel like a serious fight unless there are high stakes. Felt a lot more like track and field, a sport. I wasn't a solider, nor in a war - In the end, I was just an athlete representing war.
The league is now the new source of warfare and here was Riven, who only experienced war in the traditional sense. To her, the next match was as important as any battle, even if to me it was just a routine squabble that made it all the way up to be settled by a league match, for whatever company's gain.
My humor, my kind little facade, my lack of attention to detail. It was probably sickening her. Reminding her of the obvious: She was returning once more into war, with me as the only army she had. She didn't see me as an advantage, she saw me as an anchor she'd have to deal with and make the best of.
I understood her I think.
But I disagreed.
She was going to have to learn a few more things about life in general, after all, she's not on her turf anymore. This was mine. Maybe anyone else would have stood up, let loose some snide remarks to asset their dominance, but not me. Textbooks to follow and whatnot. This sort of scenario is pretty common with some champions. And also she was my one and only link to keeping my career, and hell if I was going to screw that up.
I shrugged and stayed seated. I'd have plastered a smile on my face if I thought it would have helped, but Riven seemed incapable of noticing facial cues other than I'm friendly or I'm an enemy.
"Champion."
I composed each word and plucked them out of my head carefully.
"War is obsolete now. When you'll have your first League match, you'll understand this. I can't swing a sword, I can't even lift myself more than twelve times. As a soldier, I'd probably be the worst you can get. As a tactician, you'd consider my thoughts and strategies incompatible with traditional setups. But that's not where I fit in."
I licked my lips. Here's the selling point.
"When I say I need to learn where your limits are, what I mean to say is, I need to know your limits in the league matches. I know more things about the summoner's rift then you do – How fights really span out, what to pay attention for, how to time things correctly. Combined with what I'll learn today and the rest of the week, I really will know your limits better than you could. Left on your own, you might take risks in the fight that result in failure. Experience in this is my strong suit. That's what I'm for. I'm not just your eyes. I'm going to be your instincts. I'm a summoner and the only specialized expert you'll have for the first few weeks, from the sound of things."
"The sound of things?" Riven asked, keenly interested all of a sudden. My little speech might have made it straight past her thick head.
"I talked to the organizer a little while ago, turns out, there was... a very small pool of veteran summoners that had volunteered to debut you." That's putting it lightly.
"Why? I was told summoners would often scramble over one another to be the one debuting a champion."
Hahah, I guess I'm not the only one they roped in. I thought for a moment, trying to find the words to answer that wouldn't upset her. Drawing a blank, I decided to go with the blunt and honest perspective.
"Yes, and no. Summoners, especially veteran ones, are obsessed with keeping a good track record for obvious reasons. Simply volunteering to debut a champion increases their influence along with a wide slew of perks so that's why they would put their name on that roster. But, once they are picked, they'll have to commit to it and new champions are unknowns. They could be great or absolutely terrible. And if they are terrible, well... there's little to no job left for a summoner that failed to debut a new champion correctly. They become a laughing stalk."
"The summoners don't believe in my ability?" Riven asked. What was I supposed to answer? I told her the truth.
"Yes." I sighed, "They don't think you've got what it takes to be a champion. I'll do my best to prove them wrong, but you'll have to work with me on this one."
She sat down. It wasn't an angry sit down, or a tired sit down. But a very resonating presence, a sort of "Let me mull it over, I need to think." Sword upright and held from tipping over by her gauntlet, I could almost feel the grinding gears moving in her head. She paused for a moment, unsure of something, but if I saw doubt in her face it was gone before I considered its existence. With a nod at me, she turned and resumed her self-training.
This was what I'm good at and she believed me. Or rather, what choice did she have but to believe me and hope for the best? She had no further comment, no outraged response, no cryptic dialogue. Just acceptance. In one week we would have the first official league match. With her return to training she made it clear she didn't want to waste a second of it.
Right now, I'm just a tool in her eyes, and she expects me to see the same. Professional courtesy. Which to be honest, was exactly how I saw her back.