Inside a cold dark cell, a woman laid awake motionless; contemplating perhaps. Her stillness and quiet breath gave the dark cell an aura of tranquility and serenity-
"Wake up, traitor."
Then it was filled with bloodlust.
"You have a guest."
A click echoed throughout the room signaling the opening of the triple-locked doors to her cell. Outside the lit candles of the hall illuminated the disgusting silhouette of her jailer.
The woman gave a piercing glare to her rowdy jailer. Dirty, rotund, bursting with ineptitude, and most damning of all loud and ill-mannered, she often wonder how such an awful man landed himself a fine job in the military.
The jailer didn't seem to notice the death glare given to him or the killing intent the woman was giving of en mass.
'I guess a blunt mind makes for the perfect guard. Fool doesn't know how to fear his betters.' The woman thought, while focusing her razor sharp glare at her jailer.
"Be glad traitor, not many would bother with the likes of you but-" A hand appeared placing itself on the fat jailer's shoulder, and with a gentle squeeze, silencing him.
"You may have your leave guard." An old decrypt voice said.
"-but Sir. I think-"
"You may leave." The voice added with finality.
The guard nodded. Shaken, he wanted to show off in front of a superior officer especially in front of the most superior officer, but that would have to wait for another day. You just don't disobey direct orders.
Even without the disgusting jailer's presence in the cell, the stench of bloodlust still permeates the air. Without the jailer blocking the door, the woman could clearly see who her unannounced guest was.
She wanted nothing more than to see that person's head roll on the floor.
"My, my- quite the murderous aura you have there. Many times have I felt that aura in the battlefield but never directed at me. It's quite a refreshing experience." The decrypt voice said, as he slowly entered inside the meager dark cell.
The voice belonged to a man, the woman inside the cell knew all too well. A grand player in Noxus Military, wearing his recently issued Noxian High Command regalia, his signature cane in his hand and demonic crow on his shoulders, he gave of an image of fragility and mind-numbing terror. Yes, the woman wouldn't forget such an existence like that of this man.
Indeed, whoever could forget the image of Noxus Grand General, Jericho Swain?
"How's it been?" Swain asked in mocked interest, before sitting himself at a nearby chair by the door.
…
"Not much for talk? Understandable-" his voice dripping in mock tones.
"I just came to talk any way. Listen or don't, it doesn't matter." The voice added dismissively before giving a brief chuckle.
The woman would love nothing more than to separate Swain's head from his neck, but she knew too well the man's more demonic nature. She knew she couldn't risk a confrontation now of all time considering her ragged and fatigue self.
Violence couldn't solve everything.
Also, she knew his death would be pointless and endanger more life.
Especially that girl's life.
"I sense fear mixed in with that bloodlust. Tell me, do you fear for your life?" The voice said before his face contorted to a crooked smile.
"-or maybe perhaps, that of that girl?"
The woman kept her sights on the twisted visage of Jericho Swain. Trying and failing on her attempts to hide her absolute hatred for that man.
Swain laughed as the woman's murderous aura swept over him. He enjoyed reveling in her hatred of him.
Swain stood up from his wooden chair and slowly walked towards the woman who is still laying flat on her back. "You have become quite dull, oh Sinister Blade."
He stopped a few feet away from where the woman was laying. There he stood looking positively monolithic from her point of view.
"Though I admit, you are far more interesting now than you were when you still worked for High Command."
The woman would not give that man the pleasure of seeing anything other than searing hatred on her face and simply continued to glare at the sight of Swain.
"Let me tell you a story… it's a fascinating story. This is a story of death. This is a story of lost. This is a story of a fallen champion-" Swain paused dramatically, savoring the uneasy air inside the cell.
"This is your story; Katarina."
The League failed.
No one knew how, but the League has failed.
The system broke and with nothing to keep the powers at check, war swept across the land. Kingdoms, cities, towns were in an all out war and there was no end in sight. The people of Runeterra are gearing up for what may be the last war to be fought in this world.
Will this be the war that would save it, or the war that would break it?
"Guards, seize her!"
Her breath was ragged. Her body was betraying her. She felt weak and her spirit shattered. For the first time in her career as a assassin-
She missed. Katarina missed her mark.
The target didn't dodge, he didn't block. He was completely oblivious to her attempt before her untimely blunder. Even his guards didn't notice her and they were supposed to be elite guard of the King. Hell, the King himself, her target, was no slouch in comes to battle. She expected assassinating King Jarvan the IV would prove difficult but she never thought it would be because of her own clumsiness.
'Shit- need to fall bac-'
A loud clang of metal and the assassin was sent flying into a wall.
She reacted on instinct, blocking the audacious charge from a three-prong spear with her steel knives. But the sheer force and weight of the charge has left her flying into the air before crashing on a wall at the far end of the throne room.
The pain from the impact has sent her mind reeling but she could still exude some form of awareness. First off, she realized that something metallic was pinning her to the wall. Second, that 'thing' was being held by a man with eyes full of rage.
Rage for the blatant attempt at the King's life. Rage for the ineptitude of the so called 'Royal Guards'.
Rage for that the King's trust on him, the 'Seneschal of Demacia', might have been misplaced.
Katarina felt her consciousness drifting from her. The butt of Xin Zhao's spear pressing firmly on her chest, pinning her, without so much as a retaliation, to the wall.
She gave off a small chuckle before letting her consciousness fade.
"How pathetic." She whispered to herself.
Katarina stared at the ceiling, her eyes brimming with indescribable emotions. After Swain left her to herself, she allowed her feelings to run rampant. Her face started to contort to various emotions that she would let no one, not even her sister and even that man, would ever see.
Pain.
Misery.
Despair.
Regret.
Yes, she was feeling all of this and more. She thought of herself stronger than this. Able to withstand all the horrors the world could throw at her. Guess, even she had limits.
Faced with insurmountable odds, she was forced to acknowledge the inescapable truth:
That she, in the end of it all, was just plain human.
Death was waiting for her. Tomorrow morning, her death was all too certain as predicted by that demonic raven. Worst of all, Swain wouldn't let her death be swift and honorable. No, Swain is too cruel for that. Swain would savor it like a morsel of fresh meat. He would drag it out for long hours. He would make it degrading and humiliating. Yes, he would make a show out of her execution. Why else would he tell her all that? He wouldn't even give her a last good night's sleep.
To expect anything less from the Noxian tactician is foolishness.
She closed her eyes and thought up her options. She couldn't think of anyway this might end in her favor.
In their favor.
An explosion was heard in the distance. The sound was enough to awaken Katarina from her contemplation. Slight tremors were felt from the cell. Katarina knew what the explosions meant.
It meant she's here.
Shockwave after shockwave rocked her cell, the cries of guards from various parts of the compound echoing in the background. She steeled herself quickly. She promised herself that no one would ever see her cry. She would keep that promise to the grave. Readying her heart and mind, composing her body and her breathing, she donned her iconic black outfit and patiently waited for the arrival of a certain explosive mage.
Though in all honesty, she was still torn. Hope fluttered in her chest. The thought that she- no, they could live was a delectable temptation.
But she mustn't dream of freedom yet.
She just can't.
'Soon we will be running free'
No- she couldn't possibly.
'We'd be happy.'
Katarina was breaking.
'We will always be together.'
Jericho Swain, truly is the most evil son of a bi-
An explosion blasted opens the door to Katarina's cell. The Sinister Blade knew it was only a matter of time before she came for her. Katarina with all her entirety wish she hadn't.
The figure of a slender woman stood outside Katarina's cell, her frame bathed in a soft glow. But it wasn't light of the candles from the hall that illuminated the figure; light, literally emanated from her liberator.
What else is there to expect from someone whose title is: 'Lady of Luminosity'
Luxanna Crownguard stood outside Katarina's cell. She donned her special Spellthief outfit, augmenting her already impressive infiltration skills to beyond the levels Katarina herself wouldn't be capable off. Her right arm clutching a bundle of cloths and her left hand extended grasping what Katarina examines was her belt fitted her daggers and knives. It was quite obvious she was the one who blasted the door, but her face was passive and held a great sense of emergency and urgency.
"Here's your weaponry, fasten it on quickly and we'll be on our way." Lux said in a hurried tone, tossing Katarina's belt by her feet.
Katarina was quick to pick it up and fasten it around her waist. The weight of steel around her gave her some form of comfort. But looking at Luxanna was challenging her every ounce of will power. That face reminds her too much of the things she have lost, and things she's about to lose.
She knew Lux had her reasons for busting her out, reasons that didn't involve her at least directly.
"Why'd you bother coming here? With your talents, you could have taken what you needed and be safe half-way through Demacia by now." Katarina said after strapping the last sets of knives on her person.
She wasn't curious; Katarina knows full well why Lux busted her out. She just wanted to hear her say it. Say that she was needed. Say that she has something to do.
Say that she can't afford to wallow in despair.
Lux's stance remained passive. People have often commented how emotional Luxanna can be. That she puts her heart first in any mission she's in, that a girl like her is not fit for military service. But now it's different. She steeled herself before coming here. She had too. She crossed Valoran, and entered deep into enemy territory. She did this without approval from the Royal Court. She did this without expecting any form of backup and help from the capital. She knew the risked and took her chances.
Lux had to admit this wasn't the most tactical of decisions. The most proper course of action was to just forget this all together. Chances are high she was going to fail, but even with the odds stacked so high against her, she was still a Crownguard.
And she never thinks about losing.
Lux started to unravel the bundle of cloth she held in her arms.
"I already lost my brother…" She said, while walking with a brisk pace towards Katarina.
"…and she has already lost her father." Taking off the last bundle of cloth, it revealed a beautiful baby girl who looks like she's barely a few months old.
Handing the child to Katarina, Lux noticed the shaking arms of the feared Sinister Blade. It was a perplexing sight to Lux. She feared this woman once before, but now-
"My niece will not grow up not knowing the warmth of her mother. You WILL come with me or I WILL drag you along."
Katarina held closely the child in her arms. Trying, but failing, to keep her tears in check.
"This much I can give for my fool of a brother."