I've gotten so many favourites and follows and yet so little feedback. I am disappoint. For those of you who review, thank you. For those of you who don't…
Humph.
-A Summoning, a Ball-
"Keep your back straight! How do you expect to move properly like that?"
Irelia groaned, but straightened her spine, yelping and twisting out of the way a moment later as a slim form lunged towards her.
"Much better."
Baby blue orbs flicked to the tree behind the spot where she had just been standing: there was a dent in the thick trunk where the impact of her make-shift mentor's fist had driven into it. "Are you trying to kill me?"
They had been at this for hours without pause, the brunette seemingly trying her best to make the Will of the Blades collapse from exhaustion.
"Not yet..."
Again, the carmine-haired woman was forced to react far more quickly than her brain could process and she went cartwheeling backwards, landing in a crouch and waving her hand in front of her just in time to summon her blades to block the cloud of kunai that came flying at her.
"… But good idea."
'What?!'
No time to be incredulous, for the kunoichi was a green blur once again, a wicked laugh leaving her as she pushed her student to the limit. "Come now, girl, keep up!"
The fighter became a blur herself, her muscles screaming as she pursued the other Champion. "You're younger than me!"
"Age is but a number." One of her kama whipped by, laying open a thin cut across Irelia's cheek before embedding itself in a wooden fence post and the red-head swore vehemently.
Leaving her alone with this violent, crazy ninja chick—'Damnit, Karma!'
"How was training?"
Irelia pouted, turning her head away as a tall, brown-skinned woman garbed in a purple dress-like outfit with a slit all the way up to the middle of her thigh on either side and an odd mantle that resembled antlers placed a gentle hand over the cut on her cheek. There was a gentle warmth as the flesh was magically stitched together. "Hmph."
"You aren't cross with me, are you?"
There was actual concern to her voice and the Ionian relented. There were bags under her companion's dark eyes and a weary slump to her shoulders. "No, Karma, I'm not upset."
Karma smiled. "Join me for lunch?"
"You're paying."
Together, the pair exited the infirmary and headed down a narrow dirt path, the taller of the two looking around the home that she was rebuilding with a proud sort of happiness that erased the stress from her visage for a brief moment. "The village is doing well."
"All thanks to you," the red-haired warrior responded truthfully. It was Karma who had put her heart and soul into a place that had been thought to be lost; Karma who had beaten all odds and breathed life into their tiny hometown. "What will you name your legacy?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you're our glorious leader. It should be renamed after you."
"Is "New Ionia" not adequate?"
"Tch. No."
Irelia pushed open the curtain of beads that hung in the doorway to Trinity—her favorite eatery. It was a popular spot and the civilians inside let out a cheer as their leader and village hero entered the establishment.
"Miss Irelia, I want to be a great warrior just like you when I grow up!"
"Lady Karma, please allow us to treat you girls to a hot meal."
"Can I touch your weapon?"
"Is it true that you're only eighteen?"
"You're so beautiful…"
"Show us your magic, Lady Karma!"
The Enlightened One held up a hand and, instantly, the chaos halted. There was something about the mage that soothed even the most ferocious of beasts.
"Please allow us some peace and quiet," the woman murmured. "My companion and I are on important business."
As the crowd dispersed, the two took a seat at the bar and Karma suddenly became glued to the menu.
"Tch. I knew there was more to your lunch invitation. What do you want, exactly?"
"I have troubling news." Her voice was hushed, secretive. "That woman you spoke of—"
"You know who she is?" The outburst left her before she could help it—for some reason, that stoic warrior had been a source of fascination for her inquisitive mind ever since their brief meeting.
She received a quelling look. "Keep your voice down. Her name is Riven and she's evidently a force to be reckoned with. She's currently a sword-for-hire under the employ of Prince Jarvan IV."
Wait… "He couldn't possibly know of our plans, could he?"
"Word travels," Karma responded grimly. "We will simply need to tighten up our own security. That is the reason we are speaking here rather than in the council room. I feel as though the walls have ears."
It was only after the striking woman had fallen silent that the hostess—a slim brunette with hazel eyes—dared to approach the pair. "Lady Karma, Miss Irelia—how nice to see you. The usual?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Rem. Make that two."
"What's 'the usual'?"
"The most incredible platter of tender, juicy meat you've ever tasted."
"Irelia, I'm a vegetarian…"
Rem returned with steaming platters and the Enlightened One's stomach gave a low rumble.
"Just this once won't hurt., Karma."
"…"
The guilty expression that Karma wore after their meal was hilarious to say the least: it was as though the woman was envisioning the adorable, fluffy face that the rack of ribs had once possessed.
"That was delicious," she chirped.
"I…" A sigh left her.
"It's either eat or be eaten, Karma. You know that."
It was ridiculous how kind and empathetic the mage tried to be—ridiculous and unrealistic. The world was a horrible place and it was astonishing how ignorant of that fact Karma could seem despite the fact that she was older and more worldly.
"That isn't how things should be."
"Yeah, well—" Irelia tensed, throwing her arm out to stop her companion from moving. Something was amiss. The fine hairs at the nape of her neck stood up and she wrapped an arm around her leader's slim waist, pulling the woman against her. "Don't move."
The mage's cheeks heated at their proximity, but she didn't question the order. She knew Irelia would protect her—no matter what.
"Well… This is interesting."
The warrior whirled, reflexively positioning herself between Karma and the speaker: a tall figure swathed in dark cloth that obscured his features from view. It was clear from the glowing orb in his hands that he was a sorcerer of some sort.
"Who are you?"
"That isn't important." The hood shifted to reveal a glowing pair of blue eyes. "I'm more interested in the two of you—would you happen to be Irelia, the Will of the Blades, and Karma, the Enlightened One?"
Their titles weren't exactly common knowledge. How could this stranger—
"My contacts provide me with a great deal of information about you and all other prospective Champions," the man stated, as though reading her mind. "Though… You look different than what they described." This comment was aimed towards Irelia. "You're supposed to be a top lane bruiser and yet you look like an assassin."
"What the hell are you babbling about?"
"Oh, excuse me, I was thinking aloud." The orb in his hands shone as he tucked it into his sleeve, pulling out two scrolls sealed with wax instead. He held them out, palm facing upwards. "Please, accept these invitations to the League of Legends. They will explain everything in addition to giving you a way to contact me. I do hope you will consider joining our ranks."
There was a flash of blindingly bright light and the mage was gone.
"What just happened?" Irelia asked when the light faded. Karma shrugged and held up her hand: her fingers were curled around the roll of parchment that the mysterious man had been holding out. It was then that the warrior realized that she was also holding one. "Should we… Open them?"
"We should return to the council room, first." Her expression became thoughtful. "Wait… I've a better idea. Come."
Moments later, Irelia found herself in front of a huge, squat building made of marble with thick pillars framing either side of the entrance. This temple served as both a schoolhouse where Karma taught villagers self-defense and as the Enlightened One's home. It was likely one of the most secure buildings for miles for the mage had fortified its already sturdy frame with magic.
The Will of the Blades didn't hesitate to cross to the back room and throw herself down on Karma's bed with a weary sigh.
"Please, make yourself at home," the dark-skinned woman dead-panned.
"Open yours."
"Me? Why?"
"Magic is your forte—not mine."
Karma grumbled something, but she did as she was told and undid the wax seal. The moment she unfurled the parchment, a projection of the strange man from before stood over it, glowing with the same pale blue his orb had.
"Greetings, future Champion, and allow me to welcome you to the greatest journey you will ever embark on. I am what is known as a Summoner and I am here to help you achieve your heart's desires. Shall I continue?"
When the projection paused as though waiting for a response, Irelia scoffed.
She was stunned when the Enlightened One said, "You have my attention."
-w-
"Out of sight, out of mind" was another saying that Riven had come to appreciate… but it wasn't proving to be true at this very moment.
Perhaps it was the cool, confident air of her mysterious visitor, perhaps it was the fact that her guard duty was already going badly if potential threats were slipping through the cracks like that, but she couldn't get the long-haired woman out of her head despite the fact that a week had passed.
It was infuriating, really.
Still… The fighter just had to know: who was that woman?
"Riven?"
She blinked. "Mm?"
The knight from before—Garen Crownguard—arched an eyebrow. "You're even more reserved than usual. Is something troubling you?"
She had to pull herself together. No sense in getting distracted from her duty. "It's nothing. Thank you for your concern."
He smiled slightly, though he, like Jarvan, seemed weary. "I hate to request more of you, but would you mind escorting my sister tonight? The Prince is throwing a festival and she loves that sort of thing."
Throwing a festival while the crown jewels were in danger? Brilliant. But it wasn't her place to comment, so she merely nodded. "I would be happy to."
Luxanna "Lux" Crownguard was a chirpy young blonde who had an inquisitive mind and a sun-shiney, 'can't-keep-me-down!' personality that was actually quite endearing. The Lady of Luminosity, as she was referred to, had taken a shine to the mercenary and the two had become unlikely allies.
Allies—not 'friends'. As a lone wolf who roamed the far reaches of Runeterra, she found that she was far better off without them.
The night sky was ablaze with magical multicoloured explosions that shimmered in the shape of dragons and other such fantastic beasts, dispelling the fall chill.
Riven drew her hood closer to her face, her dark eyes trained on her target: a young blonde girl dressed in a dark blue catsuit covered in pieces of armor and pastel bits of lace that formed a skirt and cape who was clapping her hands and laughing gaily at the antics of a court jester. There was a long wand at her waist, the head of which sparkled with its own luminescence.
Astonishingly blue eyes flicked over to the mercenary and the girl waved, beaming when she received a nod in response. She flounced over, grabbing Riven's hand without hesitation, and dragging the startled woman towards a row of merchant carts. "Stop being such a rain cloud, Riven!"
"My duty here is to—"
"Escort me, right?" Lux stopped mid-stride, whirling to face the warrior. She raised a hand and wagged her index finger. "That means you're my date for the night."
"… 'Date'?"
"Yup. So put a smile on your face and let's have a blast!" She grinned. "After all, you only turn 17 once."
So that was the reason behind this shameless display of debauchery and frivolity.
"Happy birthday," the Exile mumbled.
"You're too sweet. Now, come on!"
With that, Riven found herself being dragged all over the castle grounds by the thrilled Lady of Luminosity and forced to take part in silly games created to test physical prowess or accuracy. The pair watched acrobatic feats, ate their weight in sweets (okay, Riven watched Lux eat all of that with a look of appalled fascination), and the warrior even entered a swordsman competition.
She won, naturally.
Now the evening was winding down and Lux hid a yawn behind a raised hand. "I need to get ready."
"For?"
"The ball, silly. You can't have a festival without a ball." She eyed the older woman appraisingly. "Do you have a dress to wear?"
"Thank you, but I will have to pass. I'm not much of a dancer."
"Poo. You're no fun." The mage pouted slightly, but then she looked towards the courtyard where servants were setting up decorations and putting out huge platters of food. "Oh gosh, I'm going to be late! I'll be right back!" she called as she dashed towards the castle.
Riven was sitting amongst the boughs of the sturdy tree where she had first seen that mysterious woman, watching the dance floor with sharp eyes. Dozens of pairs of partners were twirling across the make-shift dance floor and yet it was the flutter of blood-red cloth that caught the warrior's attention.
"You…"
The wearer of that deep, rich colour was none other than the aforementioned woman; long auburn hair was pinned up in a bun by a pair of chopsticks and she was smiling pleasantly at her dance partner… Lux.
"That isn't good."
The Exile leaped down, landing in a crouch, and quickly crossed the dance floor, wending her way through the crowd of bodies. When the woman caught sight of her, piercing blue eyes widened and she began to say something, likely excusing herself, but Riven caught her arm, a thin smile on her lips even as her gaze hardened. "May I?"
"I thought you didn't dance?" Still, the blonde curtsied to her dance partner with a polite, "It was lovely meeting you." and skipped away in search of another.
"Erm… Hello."
"We meet again."
The woman's expression became carefully blank. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about—"
Riven jerked the carmine-haired outsider towards her, disguising the violent action as a twirl. She rested a hand on the woman's slim waist and the hand opposite it, leaning in to murmur, "Tell me who you are. Make a scene and I won't hesitate to dispatch you."
"I don't want any trouble." The partners whirled gracefully despite the mercenary's current garb. "My name is Irelia. Satisfied?"
"Where are you from, Irelia?" Riven twirled her dance partner around again, pulling her back in so that her body was flush against the fighter's taller, leaner form. "What is your business here?"
Was she blushing or was that the lights crackling overhead? "I'm from Ionia." She squirmed away from the Exile, placing some distance between them before she could be recaptured. "I, um… Should be going."
Before Riven could stop her, she curtsied and hurried away, disappearing seamlessly into the sea of bodies with one last, lingering glance.
"'Not much of a dancer'?" came Lux's incredulous voice.
It was then that the fighter realized her antics had become the center of attention; a round of applause travelled through the gathered throng, some nobles going so far as to asking to be her next dance partner.
"Back off, gentlemen, she's mine," the Lady of Luminosity growled, taking the older woman's hand. To Riven she said, "You owe me one dance."
It looked like she wasn't going to get out of this one. As she waltzed with the young blonde, the fighter's dark eyes wandered warily over the dance floor.
'Irelia of Ionia…'
She was clearly up to no good.
-End Chapter-
