Malcolm had his back pressed firmly against the freezing steel walls of Piltover. The mid-winter air echoed icy stabs through his warm, thick skin. His eyes were fixed away from the city's light traffic, tall buildings, and footsteps briskly pacing through the city. His mindset was separated from the nightly activities. Distant memories flooded the dreary black sky. The rough man reflected on the coarse paradigm shift he endured over the last three years. A change from Bilgewater's exhilarating life of crime to the circuative lifestyle in a city. What was once unpredictable turned into a monotonous blur with each day he awoke.
Dreams were the only escape that broke the endless cycle. Memories of the exciting life in Bildgewater played through his mind. A strong majority of them were with his former partner in crime. He grunted and recalled the robberies and betrayals. The scene that changed his life drastically replayed in his mind.
Malcolm recalled the scene photographically, and reminisced all feelings associated with it. It was an early winter morning, and the coastal temperatures clashed with the seasons perceived lack of warmth.
Ever since the recent invasion of Noxus security was at a minimum. Guards that possessed no magical ability secured the entrance to the capitol and castle grounds. An enormous amount of gold and jewels were stored away in the treasury. This was the perfect time for Malcolm and his partner to pull off the heist.
Tobias teleported them past the entry with ease. Infiltrating a magicless city was like breathing to the magician.
The two scoundrels blended into Ionia's surroundings. They were in the main capitol. Dozens of small inns connected with homes of various material and sizes flourished beyond the steel border walls. The center of the capital had various vender stalls open all hours of the night. Magical runes, exotic fruits, and various literature were organized throughout the shops.
Decorative shrubs followed the pathway to the marketplace. The castle courtyard was beyond the marketplace outside a few higher estate homes and lodging. They towered in comparison to the smaller inns and housing.
The two men spent the afternoon in a nearby wooden bar. The aroma of lingering cigar smoke and fresh brewed alcohol etched into the tight surroundings. A tense atmosphere gripped the area, several heated arguments boomed from the idle chatter and coarse laughter.
"You fuckin' cheat!" Several men cried as Tobias played the winning card.
"Just lucky I reckon." Tobias replied with a slight smirk.
Malcolm was constrained against a corner of the establishment lazily smoking cigars. He tried to relax inside the tavern, and mentally prepare for the heist the duo was about to attempt. The thought of being set for life caused the older man to glee with desire, but thoughts of being caught in the act caused desperate gasps for air between puffs on the menthol flavor filled in his lungs. He wanted nothing more than to live a life of luxury, to climb to the top, without fear of what tomorrow would bring.
The nicotine eventually caused a juxtaposed reaction. His heart rate and nervousness accelerated like the winds from a tropical storm. He was visibly nervous. His face flushed, pupils widened, and hands shaking slightly.
Night approached in what felt like a few scares blinks. The time for their greatest robbery had arrived.
Tobias laid a final winning hand down on the table. Furious men fumed at the astonishing luck he appeared to bestow. He calmly walked away from the cunning remarks and raised fists that bellowed behind his back.
He stood in front of Malcolm and bestowed a face full of confidence. He extended his arm out towards him and motioned him forward.
"Come on. You can't chicken out now partner," Tobias teased. His voice carried a tone that felt serious yet playful.
"Sorry Fate, I reckon something could go off plan, this is the Queen's money after all." He grunted. The younger scoundrel flashed a quick smile.
"Don't you worry princess. I'll get us out of there if something goes wrong,"
Malcolm swiftly delivered a firm punch to his arm.
"You can't rely off of cheatin' forever."
"Let's get this over with," He chuckled in reply.
The scenery around Malcolm's memory shuffled around. He recalled the long walk from the bar through the vendors that attempted to sell them various goods. The merchants were met with a cold shoulder as they continued forward through the higher estate homes, and to the queen's castle grounds.
Unsettled wind embraced them as they moved onward. The occasional breeze would send a chill up Malcom's spine despite the night's unusually warm climate. He couldn't remove his paranoid thoughts of possible failure. A single error in their life of crime would lead to a life of the most mundane tasks. He shuddered. A world without magic and petty theft was like an alcoholic without his keg to the scoundrel.
Slow nervous breaths escaped him as he tried to force his thoughts elsewhere. He glanced around the luxurious lodging and admired the variety of materials between each home used as structure. Brick, cobblestone, sandstone, and various types of wood added a variety of color that contrasted with the lower-class households composed of solely oak wood south of them. He found it odd the entrance of the city didn't feature any of these homes. Their placement baffled him from an aesthetic standpoint.
After a long walk down the path of homes the castle grounds were in sight. They walked inconspicuously into a nearby alley and took care to remain unseen. If Tobias's mana was drained too early a failed escape was a possibility.
Impatient exhales lightly escaped Malcom's lips. His partner took notice immediately, and his hands fluttered from his pockets to the other man's neck as he leaned closer to him.
"If you don't settle down you're going to blow these houses away, and we don't have the money just yet to replace any of these gorgeous homes," He whispered playfully.
"Shut up, Fate."
"Only because you asked nicely."
Minutes passed as they hid in the shadows of a nearby side street. Soft footsteps and idle nightly chatter carried on as the remaining residents walked in their homes to turn in for the night. The wisps of noise dissipated against the occasional breeze. Tobias motioned Malcolm forward after scanning the surroundings. Malcolm nodded and stepped closer. Tobias grabbed his arm once he was within reach.
Subtle incantations escaped Tobias's mouth as he withdrew a king of spades, "With the king in hand, disassociate us from royalty. Rays that shine, refract us tonight."
An ominous breeze picked up in the distance, and the environment was suddenly clouded with a thick blue mist. Tobias had them cloaked within the surroundings.
"Watch your steps. We might be invisible, but any foreign sound might alert them. They're human, not stupid after all." Tobias murmured.
Careful footsteps paced towards the gateway that guarded any immediate intruders. Despite the thick mist, they had plenty of vision in their immediate view.
Tobias withdrew a heart of queens and began to chant a teleportation incantation, "Queen of the castle, let me in without worry. Teleport me in without any hassle."
A ruby aura blinded them. The blinding color was replaced with the view on the other side with no iron bars in sight. They continued onward and were careful to avoid any excessive sounds. The castles main entrance came closer after they scurried with hushed footsteps. A nearby moat connected to a sturdy drawbridge was the last area to cross before they could infiltrate the treasury.
"All clear here." Came a rough voice in the distance.
Malcolm's eyes darted towards the sound of the voice near the castle entrance. The guards wore light blue chainmail lined with silver shoulder pads.
"Thanks again for staying longer." Another replied.
"I gotta get home to my wife. See you tomorrow!" The nearby guards continued normal nightly conversation as the pair stepped closer to the entrance.
The guard leaving his post stopped and turned around abruptly, "Oh, by the way, be on a close lookout. We received an anonymous tip that two crooks may be invading. They're believed to be dangerous and hold potent magical power similar to Karma's."
Graves tensed up immediately. His nervousness for a heist gone wrong could not be tamed tonight.
"How the hell do those bastards know? Are we being spied on?" He stammered in a raspy whisper.
His mind raced. The older man's gaze shifted constantly to the few surroundings available and was visibly shaken. He knew the opportunity seemed too easy to take.
"Simmer down Malcolm." Tobias coaxed into a whisper. The simple words relaxed some of the moments tension for the older man.
Despite having access to an instant teleportation, illusions, and millions of razor-sharp cards he felt uneasy. They never used his magic to this extent before. He had taken comfort in the thought of his partner removing them from the situation easily if something went wrong.
He let out a small sigh, "Let's go finish this Fate. I don't like this one bit."
Quiet footsteps collided with the pavement and matched the guards' tracks to remain discreet. The pair came to a halt towards the main entrance. Malcolm took a moment to glance towards the colorful stained glass surrounding the castle. It denied their reflection as he expected. He breathed a sigh of relief in response. Tobias withdrew a single card, the queen of diamonds, glanced at his partner and then the stone door.
"Once we do this there's no going back. Be ready for anything unexpected," He muttered.
It was unlike him to mention any fore warnings. Tense feelings returned while his partner focused back on the door in front of them.
The young man closed his eyes and muttered a small foreign chant, "Onoah-vah-sencho-vi".
The door began to envelop an indigo fog near the solid frame. The haze flowed forward and encased the door entirely. Within moments the interior of the headquarters became visible. Tobias walked forward as if nothing was in the way. After a quick glance around the room, he beckoned his friend forward to invite him in. Graves followed suit, a brief electrical jolt ran through his body as he passed through the haze. He had a burning hate for some of the advanced magic's side effects.
"Let's get us some gold and be on our way. Lady luck is smilin' on us." Tobias beamed.
Malcolm offered a nod in return.
As they walked forward, the blue field that accompanied them began to fade away. Malcolm's eyes went wide with panic. Being visible inside the castle put them at huge odds of being caught or forcing an unwanted conflict.
Tobias noticed his expression and offered an explanation, "I need to conserve my mana for our escape," Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief once he responded. "Besides, I don't see why too many would be inside now. They're prioritized on guarding the outside." He continued.
Malcolm gave a swift nod and continued to follow closely behind him. His eyes shifted at the scenery of the luxurious stronghold. Several Chandeliers holding Torches lit the way, casting large shadows on the stone walls. Clocks and mirrors were setup adjacent to the portraits of previous royal descendants. The floors were constructed of a white marble that became lightly tarnished with each step they took.
"Tread lightly, the stash of valuables should be on the second floor," Tobias noted.
They came towards a stairwell and began the climb to conclude their journey. The echo of their footsteps could not be contained despite the soft steps they took. Malcolm glanced out an open window as they ascended the spiral staircase. The night was still strong. A group of what appeared to be at least ten guards were scattered making rounds.
The thought of never needing to plunder again floated through his mind. It was the only life he knew. Would this open the door to a new path, and what would this leave for me to do with my life? He pondered. He wanted to live a life of the wealthiest without any effort put towards it. All he needed was his friend and any means to make them feel comfortable.
His thoughts were interrupted as they reached their destination. There was a vibrant golden door with complex magical runes etched onto the frame. Malcolm stared at the door in wonder. The queen, rumored to be the most powerful female mage, certainly played her cards correctly against any thieves that should attempt robbery against the kingdom.
Echoed footsteps filled the mute atmosphere as Tobias approached the door. He withdrew three blue cards from his sleeve and flashed a cocky smile.
"Leave it to me," Tobias beamed.
"I'd just blow it down to the ground, but alright," He scoffed in return.
Undoing the only magic seal placed on the passageway to the treasury was not an easy task. Karma was known for her studious efforts of deciphering, memorizing, and creating various security and combat magic. She was a force for the mage to be reckoned with.
Tobias flicked the cards in the air and clasped his hands together. The three blue cards he once held levitated in between his hands and the door in a triangular formation.
"Sero-vi-hach-nora-ordinvae."
Moments passed as he repeated various foreign mantras. The air thickened around them, and various pigments of fog began to excrete from the door. A high pitch whine emitted between the cheater and the door. A Spectrum of colors formed as the haze from the door retreated to Tobias's hands. He continued to chant softly under his breath. The door abruptly turned from a vivacious gold into a clear reflection that gazed at them. Malcolm acknowledged his reflection. He appeared fatigued and showed signs of uncertainty. His reflection clashed against his friend's confident and arrogant grin. Tobias placed his glowing hands on the door. A gamut of colors replaced the clear surface with a dark blue appearance.
"Open the door, and show me the way!" He spoke with soft force.
"Niyah-yee-shi," He continued.
Tobias seethed in pain and removed his hands from the surface. The door heavily forced itself open. A hallway generously lit paved the way into a room with an abundant source of gold. Malcom grinned heavily. His exhaustion seemed to fade away into the corner of his mind. He took a few steps forward while he thought of the new luxuries he would enjoy.
"Wait!" Tobias shouted. He tossed a hand in front of the door and prevented entry.
"For fucks sake Fate! What are you trying to pull-"
Before Malcolm could finish cursing out his friend the runes etched into the door turned into a dark red color that resembled blood. A swift gale knocked the duo backwards like feathers caught in a hasty breeze. A loud bang ensued from the force of the door colliding back in place. The force caused a tremor throughout the castle. The gold color returned to the door as they collected themselves back on their feet. The commotion triggered nearby sentinels from their surroundings.
"Shit!" Graves exclaimed in desperation. Several moments passed. He listened for any sounds that followed. The once mute castle filled with heavy footsteps that stampeded throughout the nearby stairwell.
"Halt, thieves!" Came a guard cornering them to their left.
"We have you surrounded. Our men will outnumber and kill you if you try to flee. Surrender now while you can." Another commanded taking the right-hand side.
A new face appeared every moment. Each adversary had eyes set to kill. The moment felt hopeless, but he knew his friend would remove them from the perilous situation.
Graves muttered under his breath, "Get us outa here."
A purple mist began to form as three cards circled around Tobias. The older man closed his eyes for a moment. He anticipated the remaining three cards to flutter his way for the escape spell. Several moments passed as the cards began to circle around Tobias in a faster velocity. Confusion had struck Malcolm suddenly. The spell required six cards total that would teleport both of them out of harm's way He began to feel uneasy.
"If this is your idea of a joke you can fuck off." Malcolm spat.
The younger man offered a tiny grin, "I'll see you sooner rather than later I reckon."
The three cards multiplied and engulfed his entire body. They rotated at razor sharp speeds. The guards refused to step near him for fear of being sliced open. A cold sweat ran down Malcolm's face as he watched Tobias fade away. The cards turned translucent. His friend was no longer visible next to him.
All remains of Tobias and his cards were de-materialized. A cold breeze was cast throughout the room in response to his absence. It was like the Moon separated itself from the Earth. The tides of his fears were thrashing throughout his mind. Paranoia flooded every crevice of thought he could process. Tobias was gone, and his body was growing numb with worry each moment. He could barely process the situation with reason.
Is this some deranged illusion? He thought in a pure panic.
"This isn't funny, Fate!" He tried to scream with annoyance; however, he could only manage a stern quiver.
His only friend was gone. Feelings of betrayal, anxiety, and loneliness struck him like a bolt of lightning. The reality of the perilous situation faded into the background. Hot tears began to well in his eyes.
"I'm going to die here, aren't I?" He thought.
This was the only man he knew a good portion of his life. He took his magical abilities for granted. The trill of obtaining pillaged possessions and living on a new theft daily brought a harsh consequence he had to bear. Survival was the least of any concern he had in that moment. He knew even with his drained mana one card would've eliminated all of the men in a drowsy trance.
"Why did you do this?" He muttered. The sounds of unsheathed swords began to fill the room.
"Are you done talking? We're gonna lock you up for eons." A guard mocked. He snapped back into reality as a scimitar scratched against his back.
I gotta get outa this hell hole - one shot from desitny should let me slip outside at least. He thought.
He focused his mana into his right hand. A blue surge of light presented his shotgun and a canister of smokescreen. With swift reflexes he cocked the gun back and shot the canister into the middle of the guards. Without warning a thick smog instantly overtook the room.
"Go after this scoundrel, now!" One of the guards coughed through the thick fog.
Malcolm retraced his steps and searched for familiar structure through the smoke. He grunted as he maneuvered past the few guards that had their eyes clamped shut and let out a sigh of relief. The familiar stairwell was just a few strides behind him. He began his descent back to the entrance. Footsteps from the opposing end scurried towards him.
"Die!" He heard from below.
Halfway through his descent, a longsword lunged towards his feet.
"Clever, but you can't cripple me that easy." He sneered.
He swiftly jumped and took a single shot at the two guards from below. Golden bullets imbued with a blue aura negated the armor they wore. Both men grasped at the wounds and howled with tremendous pain. The golden bullets were cast astray down the stairwell. Droplets of blood sprinkled the stairs lightly as they clinked like loose change down the remaining descent.
"Get treated now and your vanity might stay intact." He spat.
He ran past the mirrors that reflected his broken appearance and arrived at the door. His heart rate accelerated as he approached closer towards his exit. The door no longer held Tobias's magic, and the only view outside was the starless sky through the vibrant glass above him.
I'm free now. He thought.
The adrenaline was wearing thin. He continued forward, leaned with his left arm towards the door, held destiny behind him, jolted forward, and used every ounce of remaining energy to ram the door open.
He smirked as the warm air pressed against his skin. His momentum carried him forward while the door banged open like an explosion had been set off. The warm feeling, he welcomed was contrasted with a new adversary. His mouth opened out with a small gasp of pain. A single guard stood in front of him. His blue dark blue armor blended into the night's surrounding. The guard jabbed a spear into his stomach in response to the door that shoved open. He screamed with pain. Light pulses of blood sputtered from the wound. A cold wave of air rushed throughout the older man's body. He stumbled backwards in pain. The man swiftly withdrew his blade from Malcolm's wound, and crimson red weaved through the air like spider webs. He winced with pain and felt his weight shift. Every breath was making him feel heavy.
"I'm not gonna die like this. I will kill ya without a second thought." Graves yelled between exhausted and pained heaves.
"You can barely breathe. I'll end your suffering now, Thief." He replied coldly.
Malcolm drew his gun towards his opponent, "Night night, bastard."
The man attempted to disarm Graves. The blade weaved close to his left arm. His fingers were too quick for the protector. He pulled the trigger, and a flash of light followed with a loud bang. Five parallel bullets shot through the man's neck, he immediately collapsed without the chance to utter a single scream.
"Fuck!" Malcolm howled.
The waves of pain and exhaustion crashed back into him. Blood oozed liberally down his body. He began to feel dizzy, and quickly used what little focus that remained. He tore his shirt off and created a thick tourniquet against the wound with the cloth. The bleeding came to a halt.
He sprinted past the drawbridge and through the open castle gate. His breaths were heavy, every portion of his body begged him to collapse onto the moonlit pavement. He continued to run forward and ignored the concerns of the few nearby citizens that shouted generous concerns at him.
Their eyes were struck with fear. His battered body was caked with dried blood from his navel down to his legs. It appeared like he was a victim in a recent slaughter. This caused some of the civilians to scream with panic.
"Summon lady Karma at once!" He faintly heard a woman in the distance shriek.
His body was on autopilot. All of the feeling that remained in his legs had dissipated. He ran past the town's border wall for several minutes and changed his direction constantly.
Fearful thoughts filled his mind and clashed with the confusion he felt from the betrayal. Exhaustion eventually overtook his racing mind, and his fleeted panic brought him from the peaceful city of Ionia into a nearby forest. He felt a large essence of mana pouring from his wounds. The luscious blue energy oozed with a burning agony.
Every step added additional weight to his body as he stumbled through nearby branches and brush. Desperate breaths of air escaped his lips; his heart rate accelerated and the brisk run became into a stumbling walk. He felt every part of his body give out. His body became numb as he collapsed onto the damp forest floor. The soil licked at the scars on his chest, and the exotic forest faded to black. His victory left more than visible scars. They would haunt him every night for years to come.
The sounds of oncoming traffic snapped him back to reality. He finished his thoughts by recalling his recovery taking several months. He hunted various animals in the forest to survive while he regained his footing. After staying on a low profile for a few months, he knew the life of a thief wasn't possible anymore. The risk without complex magic to aid him was too high. He moved to Piltover after a year of staying hidden.
His provided a fatigued sigh against the busy city's noise. His hands fell into his pockets and fidgeted through keys and scarce change for the lush addiction he craved, nicotine. A half-beaten pack of menthol cigarettes along with a battered stolen lighter were withdrawn. He collected one of the few remaining cigarettes out of the flimsy package and flipped the lighter's cap.
A light flame ignited while he placed the cigarette it in his mouth. He sucked lightly as the familiar mint flavor filled his lungs. The stress he felt faded into the crevice of his mind; the cigarette filled his lungs with warmth. The puffs of smoke filled the space above his head as he started to lightly pace home.
He pressed the button for the crosswalk and waited anxiously. The wind steadily picked up as several cars passed by. Puddles of water from the overcast earlier in the afternoon splashed in conjunction with the quiet hum of cars. Several people began to clump beside him. Despite usually seeing a new face every day, the scenario of each day seemed to repeat itself. He would wake up from a dream reminiscing Bilgewater, go to work, stay for overtime, sleep, and repeat.
The light finally turned Green. He moved forward and accelerated to brisk steps, in response to his change in tempo, a gale formed in the distance. The cold air nipped harshly against his thick skin. The only warmth he had was from the occasional draw off his cigarette. He hated cold weather, and his life of sailing through tropical seas did not prepare him for being this discomforted.
He grunted to himself and took another drag off his cigarette. His thoughts fought a fierce battle of his monotonous cycle, and the night from several years ago. He continued to walk down several streets. His thoughts occupied him away from the normal nightly resonances of traffic and idle chatter.
I can't help but feel he's always nearby mocking me. He thought.
It had been three years since the miserable night occurred. He obsessed over finding answers without any context or clues. Tobias's sudden absence didn't make any sense to him. He scoured his memories for clues and begged the magician for answers in his dreams every day.
Thoughts of a warm meal and his comfortable bed replaced the memories of Tobias. He needed nothing else in that moment. The walk home would only take a few more minutes.
Those few minutes felt like eons had passed before he finally found himself by the front door of his apartment. He fidgeted for the key. Goosebumps formed down his spine as the freezing brass connected with his hand. Graves grunted once more as he shoved the tiny apartment door open. He extinguished his cigarette in the nearby brimmed ashtray and locked the door behind him.
The interior was painted white with no decorations. Malcolm had the essentials set aside and lived at a minimum. A kitchen was only a few meters from the entrance, and a tiny living area acted as a study for him. both his bathroom and bedroom were a straight walk from the entrance.
Malcolm darted towards his kitchen. His numb hands clashed against the warm crockpot as he reached to turn it off. The fragrance and heat of the roast flourished throughout the small home. He grabbed a paper plate and fork from the cabinet above the crockpot and plated a large portion of the roast.
He sat down at the kitchen table. The juices from the pork, carrots, and potatoes glistened to the edges of his roast crumbled with a half-hearted poke from his fork. The old man's mouth watered for the tender bites he was about to indulge. Tobias shared several recipes with him while they lived a life of crime. A magician being quite the cook was always a surprise to Malcolm. It was the one thing he didn't cheat his way through. He knew the best spices to blend for a generous meal. All of the flavors he learned to soak together gave him enjoyable experience each night he returned home. Slow cooked foods were the main thing he learned to appreciate in the big city. It allowed him to put minimal effort into his nightly schedule.
Soft blows of air calmed the cascading warmth of the food. He pierced his fork through the food and slowly indulged. Flavors of Garlic and chili clashed with a sweet tinge of honey. The warmth from his esophagus seeded into his body slowly in addition to the mediocre heat from the Hextech air units in the household.
He quickly finished his meal. He rose from his chair and disposed of the plate and fork in the nearby waste bin. He weakly swayed and adjusted his balance from being full. He turned towards the restroom. He was too exasperated to do anything additional tonight.
He promptly entered the bathroom and flipped the light switch. Four bulbs flickered to a feeble glow. His aged, tired reflection glared back at him in the cabinet mirror above the sink. Malcolm let out a brief sigh and bent down to withdraw a brown washcloth from the cabinet below the sink. The tired man rose from the ground and lazily reached for the faucet. The stream of water pounded loudly against the bathtub while he fumbled for the switch to turn the shower head on. A small whine echoed as the droplets offered a heavy downpour. He reached for the showerhead dial and changed it to a fine mist.
He paused to let the water warm. After minutes of waiting steam began to form. The thin clouds reminded him of his times at the bars in Blidgewater. He recalled the endless clouds of smoke from the cigars each person held. He longed for that musky smell when his life felt more carefree. He swiftly unbuckled his belt, clinking to the floor as if it was the sound of spare change; in a moment's notice, he was undressed and under the luscious warm stream of mist that clashed with Piltover's cold winter air.
Damn. I miss not freezing my ass off, he thought to himself while reaching for the shampoo. He lathered his damp, short hair.
His hair untangled while he stepped back to let the water rinse his scalp clean.
Bastard, why did he have to leave me hanging then? He reflected on the pain once again of that night.
It had been nearly three years ago when he vanished, never to be seen again. He reached for the washcloth and squirted a dab of green body wash onto it. A scent of aloe mixed into the air. He began to scrub each inch of his body, his muscles relaxed under the mist of water.
Malcolm realized his life wasn't terrible in Piltover. He turned his life around and chose to pursue a stable career instead of living on death's door. He was a manager at a local hextech phone repair center. Heimerdinger made millions of coins with each new idea that communication between long distances baffled Graves. Despite the innovation, he could not argue that the uncertainty of Bilgewater felt more welcoming than a monotonous day with no changes.
The pay was great, but he always found himself returning to his devious habits. He stole lighters and other small trinkets on a regular basis. That was the one guilty pleasure he couldn't let go. He dreamed of being able to climb through wealth by petty theft all over again. Reality offered a harsh bite, though. The technology in Piltover made it impossible to steal large items he could resell.
"If only I had that Brat's magic," He admitted.
He washed his body clean of any remaining suds and shut the water off. He retrieved a towel from the nearby white rack, and dried his lower body off to prevent to prevent a watery mess. The thought of cleaning up something unnecessary annoyed him. He wrapped the thin turquoise cloth around his body. The flimsy cloth tightly fit around his large hairy figure. He slowly stepped out of the tub onto the ice-cold floor. The sudden transition in temperature sent a chill up his spine.
Floor mats were not on his list of cheap expenses he needed to his dismay. Malcolm exhaled a small reluctant breath and reached above the sink. He slid the cabinet open carefully. The wooden frame was extremely fragile. His hands fumbled for some allergy medication. He gingerly closed the cabinet and wiped the steam off the mirror with a flimsy and torn blue rag on the sink. Exhaustion escalated further after his shower. His fine lines of aging were more apparent when he desired sleep. He exhaled, harshly this time. The worn man decided to neglect anything else planned in his routine for the night.
He quietly paced down the hallway and made it into his bedroom. A combination of clean and dirty clothes was thrown everywhere in an assortment of piles. The bed was still unmade. Lavender sheets were scattered everywhere from last night's lack of sleep. He quickly dried the rest of his body off so he was only slightly damp. Small Beads of water still dripped from his hair. They matched the rhythm of the soft droplets of rain outside hitting the window's pane.
"For fuck's sake," he groaned.
Frozen roads were the worst to walk on. If the conditions were harsh enough at least half of his scheduled staff would end up calling in for the day.
He tossed the towel into a random pile of dirty clothes in the corner, and fumbled through a clean pile of clothes to wear something to sleep. He withdrew and slipped on a pair of red briefs nearly too tight for his body and collapsed on his bed in front of him. It was a familiar comfort he appreciated. He forfeited all of his energy for content. Malcolm slowly slouched his legs under the nearby silk comforter, and lazily spooned a nearby pillow for comfort. He surrendered into the warmth of his blanket further and relaxed his thoughts.
He lazily opened one eye and glanced at the clock. It was barely past midnight. The extensive overtime was taking a further toll on his mental health. The evenings he could've spent plundering gold were now spent behind a desk. He argued with customers that wanted free hextech replacements. He had no motivation to do anything outside of work, eat, and sleep. He had enough money saved to quit his job for the next few years, but that wouldn't satisfy him. He realized retirement of any kind was nothing more than a fantasy unless he worked fiercely and lived on the essentials.
His breathing slowed to a crawl, and the endless thoughts that powered his anxious life began to fade away. The man never went a day without recalling how much more exciting his life could have been. He could only be thankful that he'd never face the same convictions. He realized it was for the better to not solely rely on crime if he wanted to survive. He released a lackadaisical yawn. Malcolm was unable to keep his eyes open any longer; soon the pitch-black surroundings flourished with a dream he considered a new reality.
A familiar warmth embraced him. He choked on the humidity as the salt water aroma filled his body. He had a tight grip on his shotgun. Soot concealed the shining silver tips. He stood near the loading dock of a Kingdom's entrance.
He heard a rough voice call out behind him, "I'll get my gold back ye pirate!".
Malcolm turned around and flashed a crooked smile. He quickly extended his gun out and pulled the secondary trigger. Smokescreen erupted from his gun, and a dense smog eveloped the area. The victim of his recent theft coughed violently.
"Guards!" He exclaimed repeatedly between shallow breaths. Graves grunted and ran out of the port, and into the market area. This man deserved it, he thought to himself. His breath drew short with each step. A life on the run came with a price; he could only travel so far before exhaustion chained each part of his body.
Malcolm continued despite the chest pains. He drew shorter breaths as he ran down a nearby alleyway, and the pain in his lungs flared up with each step he took. Aside from the occasional glance, the busy town seemed to ignore him as he sprinted between alleys. He continued forward. This familiar feeling was the polar opposite of what he experienced prior to felt free through the pain he endured.
He took a deep breath as he slowed his run down to a brisk walk. It seemed that he evaded most of the trouble. There were no suspicious sounds. The normal market chatter filled the area. He grunted lightly and fumbled around through his pockets. They were lined with spare gold coins from looted shops and homes.
He came to a halt and pressed his back against a dull colored brick wall. The heat radiated down his spine and pricked against his worn face. His gaze was fixed towards the sky as he caught his breath. Embers of orange licked above the dark blue sea. He could feel himself being drawn closer to the tides. Each wave felt like a new journey to him. Nothing was ever the same when he set sail. The rush from ascending the ranks excited him even though everyone in Runterra would view him as a criminal.
His gaze shifted between each tide. He lived each day here as if tomorrow wouldn't exist.
"I need a new plan," He muttered.
Barely surviving was a feeling he embraced. The tides began to slow, the orange overcast turned a crimson red. The sea that once sparkled with vigorous life turned to a shade that resembled an open wound. Graves's thoughts hesitated for a moment. The thought of being swept away on a new tide was a distant memory.
He let out a small sigh and fixed his gaze on the sea. He closed his eyes for just a moment and heard a familiar set of footsteps.
"Howdy partner," The words filled him with nostalgia. Tobias was right beside him, wearing his usual brown cowboy gear. He displayed a confident smile and a set of eyes that could invigorate the most stoic person.
"Even after everything we've been through. I wish I knew why you ran," Graves muttered to himself.
He slowly ran his right hand into the crevice of his pocket, breaking the empty thoughts that ran through his mind. He fumbled through coins until he finally found a good grip on his pipe. He withdrew it, and some tobacco. He placed a tiny amount in and continued to dig through his pockets for a lighter after he placed the pipe in his mouth.
He grew frantic. He needed nicotine regardless if he was dreaming, or wide awake. An annoying pain began to burn through his head. The rhythmic pulses of a headache began to spread over his temple. Reality around the pirate ceased as his eyes fluttered to a close.
"Calm down. This ain't real," He said to himself.
Suddenly, a warmth drew towards his face. His eyes fluttered open as familiar mint flavor entered his lungs. Tobias extinguished the flame he held in his hand.
"You're such a lady about losing your shit, Malcolm." He mused.
Puffs of smoke filled the awkward silence. Every moment since falling asleep was a connection desired strongly. The condescending fun they would poke at each other, stealing treasure, being constantly on the run, acting without hesitation, and the awkward use of magic for everything he lacked.
"I don't have much time tonight bastard. I'll come find you tomorrow and we'll go straight into Demacia's Treasury."" Graves muttered.
A small chuckle escaped the cheater's mouth, "Whatever you say, princess."
He withdrew a deck of cards and discarded them into the air. They circled his body swiftly as a gale picked up in the distance. They began to circle from his feet to his head, and slowly dematerialized his body into the night. Graves let out an exasperated and defeated grunt.
Darkness finally took hold of the sky. The gale subsided into a tiny breeze – a single card from the spell fell into the palm of his hand. It was the king of diamonds. A reminder that he felt annoyed by each day. Even the strongest most wealthy men will fall. His desire to ascend could be met with an ill fate. His partner always left a cryptic message. The messages conveyed showed a strong desire to always follow the path best set for him. He still needed answers and understood they wouldn't exist in this small plane separate from reality.
"I swear I'll chew your ass out, and then kill you if I ever find ya."
The obsession was burned into his nightly cycle. The same dream tortured him every night. He wouldn't stop searching every hidden meaning until he knew how to break the cycle.
The only person that sought him as a trusted friend was gone. Everyone else didn't matter, they only expressed slight interest because of his apathy. He slid down from the wall and sat down. He looked back at the moon shimmering in the sea. The light radiated stronger than all of the shiny objects he plundered. He was alone in the world and wanted to wait for the moon to fall from the sky. The reflection of what held the tides to each journey needed to be destroyed. Destiny could be written without a force controlling each step, breath, and thought that approached him.
The world around him began to fade, the glistening stars were removed one after another. Images of the ocean, ships, and markets began to envelop in a blur of darkness. This was the one time he allowed himself to cry, even if it was only a single tear. Everything he once held close to him was replaced with a bleak darkness.
The realization suddenly stung. Three years had passed. He needed something to light the way in his colorless life. A sign that the path of success he carved could be split into a new current. Nothing could stop the desire to shatter his own current reflection while he pieced the broken shards together. A new image could be created from his existing pain.
His eyes lapped open from his dream.
"I can't believe I'm going to do this," He muttered.
It was a new day, and Malcolm wanted nothing more than to build a better, enjoyable life in Piltover. Years of resentment and hurt over Tobias's actions made him realize nothing should hold him back from being happy.