Makeshift
Author's Note: WARNING: This chapter will make you hate me. Maybe? This chapter is just a lead up, I tried to make it interesting though! :D
I have been writing this whole thing on my iPhone, so I am sorry if my grammar is appalling.
I'd also really like to thank you guys for reading, due to the inspiration you guys gave me I finished this chapter a lot faster than I should have.
IMPORTANT QUESTION: ARE MY CHAPTERS TOO LONG? Please tell me how you would like them in the reviews section or PM me!
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Pain
Something came over the war torn battlefield. Apart from the ever flowing eerie breeze it was dead silent. The two old friends just stared, knowing soon their conflict of interest would lead them into a sickeningly gruesome fight between former friends.
"Garen! Out of my way!" The gore smothered Jarvan cried, full of anguish as he glared at the assassin who stood with both her thin arms wrapped around one of ex-commander's.
No answer came from the stern guardian of the redhead as a dead seriousness came over him, only a cold stale stare. The Demacian prince was caught off guard by the solemn resolve; he knew the austere look too well from when the knight led his vanguard. It was the manifestation of someone who was about to lose everything, an imaginary list of those who the former leader of the Dauntless Vanguard would have to ruthlessly kill in order to protect those he loved, and the prince knew his name was at the top.
"G-garen, move aside and I will try to renounce your exile from Demacia." The latest Lightshield stammered trying to reason with his old friend to no avail.
Garen's eyes thinned to slits of anger, and even the Lady DuCouteau was somewhat hindered by fear. She tightened her grip around his muscular arms, this wasn't what she wanted. She looked up at Jarvan's army and knew it was completely and utterly hopeless for them to resist.
"Garen, let's just go. We can't win this fight." She whispered into his ear with a sweet motherly tone, very unusual for her.
However, Garen did not take one step away. He just continued his piercing stare at the prince, prodding the prince to make his move. The tired soldiers behind the golden armored man shifted getting ready for yet another fight, this one more unnerving than the last.
"Garen!" She jabbed now urgently, a hint of worry in her voice. "We can't win this, let's get out of here." Her tone calmed down toward the end of the speech.
He readied his large blue sword and narrowed his vision on the prince. The seasoned warrior was ready to fight the prince he once served. He took one strong step forward provoking the next king.
"God dammit Garen, I can't lose you! Please, we need to go." She let out with a tear, tugging at his bulky blood stained arm, the prince's guards readying as well. "I can't..."
Garen cringed.
It hit him like stones. He gave her a helpless look; all he wanted was to protect her. The soft words had struck him like daggers though, slowly turning the anger into remorse. The assassin's cold heart had once again melted, showing her more feminine side, a side he had to listen to no matter what the cost. Finally, the resistant Garen began to turn slowly at first, the look on his face a pitiful one, like that of a puppy who had just lost his bone.
As soon as they were fully turned the prince in his entire honor leaped toward them a dirty trick, the poised sharp tip aiming directly at the ex-Noxian's head.
"Dema- "
Clang!
Midair and midspeech the prince was struck from the side by a large caliber bullet changing his forward momentum into a diagonal slide. Hitting the rough ground with such force that it cracked his worn out bracers, his heavy metal lance fell with him. A fatal wound formed in his side, bleeding abundantly as he yelled in excruciating pain, the shooter, an amatuerly bandaged women who stood atop a nearby crumbling guard tower wearing a large purple top hat.
"Caitlyn...?" The two muttered out of surprise believing that the wounded sheriff would still be out cold for at least a two more hours.
The two continued to stare at the fragile form of the sheriff, something was wrong with her. The sheriff did not flinch or say anything after the shot; she just walked away with the look of someone who has given up plastered on her dirt covered face. A cold unsuspecting paleness fell upon the rivals. Something had happened to the lovebirds. Quickly, the couple ran toward the distorted tower, leaving the revenge seeking Jarvan and his men who had already rushed in with an devilish stare. This was more urgent, much more urgent. The two traversed the seemingly now gray city and with each step on the cobble pathway the sad aura that surrounded them became blacker and blacker, but they continued toward the last place they had seen the hurt gunner. Nobody could help, but notice the vultures flocking. A bad omen had brought itself upon them. Even the Sinister Blade was worried for her new friend; in fact she was crying too expecting the worst. When they finally found the sheriff she was huddled crudely in the corner of her untidy office. She had been crying for a long time. Her eyes were red and watering, her hands were involuntarily shaking, and her shrieks of sadness brought shivers down their spine. Katarina let out a low sob as she wobbly bent down next to the sheriff in an attempt to comfort her, but instead she fell into the process of mourning as well. Garen just stood there appalled his knees shaking. Caitlyn let out another sob, choking on her own tears before she let out a yell of agony. Her cries made Garen's knees finally give way under his weight. She was completely helpless and anyone who looked at her could tell she blamed herself for leaving him. Though without a doubt, deep down inside she knew it wasn't her fault, it didn't change a thing. The room was black now, not a light was shining in these damnedest times. And finally Garen had to the courage to ask;
He is dead, isn't he?
He didn't need her crooked nod to know. Jayce, the Defender of Tomorrow had fallen.
The funeral arrangements were set in stone. He was to be cremated tomorrow and already the stocky town was stacking wood for the deceased. No cries of laughter. No kids playing on the streets only a cruel silence that left you to think about the ones who would be burned. The sea of ravens that covered every tree screeched profusely adding to the uneasy feeling of the city. Garen was alone. Katarina was spending the night with her friend making sure she didn't do anything stupid, but above all she was trying to comfort her before the funeral, readying her for the hardest part, watching him go.
Why is the world so cruel?
The ex-commander thought to himself.
It wasn't fair.
Sighing away his anger he walked toward the crusty old building where Jayce's cleaned body was being kept, holding back any sign of sadness. With a click, the rusty door shut behind him, leaving the two opposites alone in the uncanny parlor. He still looked peaceful wearing his white tuxedo. The red rose that he always twirled in his fingers lied with him, and his finely combed hair had not a strand out of place. However, his face was yet to grow pale, he still had a slight shade of redness in his cheeks.
His last thoughts were probably about the sheriff that would definitely leave a smile on his face.
Garen smiled to himself before once again, leaving the eerie room.
The redhead sat next to the exhausted sheriff rubbing her cloth covered back in an attempt to comfort her. She was still crying. The loss of Jayce was something Katarina couldn't even fathom and so she couldn't blame the poor peacekeeper for being weak at this dark hour. This was one of the most wicked cruelties the redhead had ever seen, and she had seen and executed many. The feeling of losing a loved one was truly sinister.
Caitlyn let out a coarse cough.
"Here" The ex-Noxian whispered, offering the sheriff a cup of cold water.
"T-thanks." She murmured, taking the cup from the assassin's slim hands. Putting the small cup to her chapped lips she drank looking carefully at the redhead.
They sat still for a moment, but that small amount of time felt like ages.
"I-I want to see him." She announced her mouth still close to the rim of the plastic cup. Katarina was dealt a pleading face that begged her to come along.
A look of discomfort fell upon the assassin's frown. Her head was filled with possible things that could go wrong, and there were many.
"Are you sure?"
With a nod Caitlyn struggled to get up, her sprained legs had been set in an awkward position for too long and now they were even weaker with fatigue. Slowly the sheriff gained her balance leaning on one crutch and began to move across the messy room toward the recently cleaned glass door.
The two walked rather sluggishly toward the mysterious mortuary. Caitlyn's hand shook violently as she took hold of the brass handle of the door and pulled it open, surprised to see the stocky form of Garen walking away from the room the defender was being kept in.
"You okay?" Garen asked, stopping in front of the mourning sheriff.
"Uhm... Y-yeah." She muttered a little hesitant. "I-I am going to see him." She spoke her second sentence with a little more confidence.
Garen peered back at the room he had just come from trying to decide whether or not he should tag along with the two ladies. Reluctantly, he shrugged going along with the pair back into the drab room from which he came making sure of the fact that nothing would happen..
The three entered looking at the familiar face that sat peacefully on the bed, arms crossed over each other. The room itself seemed lighter now than when the knight had visited alone, maybe it was the two just being together that created the difference, but nonetheless the aura had changed for the better. It wasn't a feeling of sadness anymore, more like one of acceptance.
Caitlyn wilted over her dead boyfriend, a sad expression on her face. Again, the shudder of crying took hold of her fragile body.
The town center was full of people all dressed in black. In the center it was the dreariest. About forty bodies lay there, and one in particular was surrounded with red roses. That was the one Caitlyn stood next to with the two rivals— awaiting their turn for the cremation of Jayce's still body.
About 20 minutes passed by until they were up, and even when they were called Caitlyn froze. She couldn't deal with it. Her tissue was already wet with tears; she didn't have the strength inside her to move him up to the alter to be burned and so even longer they waited. The crowd did not rush her, they did not pester her, because they knew exactly how hard it was. Garen put a solid hand on Caitlyn's shoulder shaking her gently as if to say;
it will all be okay.
Katarina stood there intensely looking at the body. Switching her vision between the alter and the body, she still felt that this was wrong.
The sheriff took in a deep breathe. She was ready now. She lifted up the Defender of Tomorrow's heavy lifeless body with the help of Garden, who was dressed in formal military attire, and began their march toward the stack of splintered logs. She limped as she walked, her foot was still sprained and the wounds on her calf reopened due to stress. They put his frail body down on top of the oiled sticks and slowly retreated. The priest lifted up an embroidered ritualistic torch before chanting a few inaudible words, before shakily bringing it down. Immediately, the tinder burst into flames. Sluggishly the flame made its way up toward the white tuxed man.
The assassin took a staggering step forward. Something had caught her eye, a hint of purple in his fingernails. She hadn't noticed it before, but now it was the most obvious thing in the world, a Noxian poison. With a grin she disappeared into black smoke. Reappearing next to Jayce's body, a shock went through the crowd of onlookers as she lifted his body off the pile of burning logs, her heels consumed in flame.
"What are you doing?!" Caitlyn yelled angrily over the crowd's loud cacophony of disapproving rage.
The ex-Noxian just smiled before leaping off the pile of burning logs onto the ground, his limp body in her small hands. Caitlyn dashed forward with a palm wide open ready to hit the redhead right across the face, but a strong hand stopped her. Garen stood with his powerful hand wrapped around the sheriff's slim wrist curiously eyeballing the assassin who was ever so gently examining the supposedly deceased man's finger tips. With a grin and a cheery look the redhead nonchalantly dropped his hand to the floor.
"He isn't dead." Katarina spoke with a sort of bewilderment in her voice, resulting in a wave of cries from various onlookers.
Caitlyn stared at the seemingly lifeless body that she was so ready to incinerate a moment ago. Her legs crumbled under her. She was a mess of emotions that laid a clump on the cement ground.
The stocky Garen joined her in the unbelieving gaze; unable to say a word because seconds ago he had given up the hope of ever seeing the pride filled defender again.
What a surprise.
"I-it's an old Noxian poison." The slender assassin examined. "He needs surgery." She huffed before getting up and wiping the ash of her leather clad body.
The crowd began to shuffle around the poisoned defender. Many in disbelief of recent news. They all gazed curiously upon his purple finger nails trying to confirm the fact that he was alive, but only the ex-Noxian knew the details of the venom.
"Somebody call a doctor!" Katarina yelled, trying to urge the city into action with a flail of her arms.
"T-there are no doctors..." A voice murmured from out of the crowd.
A hateful look befell the assassin.
"What the fuck do you mean there aren't any doctors?!"
No answer came from the mass of mourning people, but slowly the pile of emotions stirred.
"H-he was fighting too..." Caitlyn finally replied pointing her quivering finger toward an inert body who was yet to be released from his exhuasted worldly body.
A pale look fell upon the assassin. Not only was the well-kept defender almost killed for a second time by his kin, but no one was here with the qualifications to complete the surgery to save him.
"Jarvan... Jarvan and his men... T-they have a surgeon..." An astounded low voice bellowed from Garen.
The redhead winced when she heard the name of her attempted murderer. He was the only hope for the ever weakening Jayce, and she knew that they didn't have time to waste.