Bilgewater - Part 2: Way of Life
The waves crashing upon the shores coupled with the morning sun's rays gave strength and will to the sailors and dockhands of the slaughter docks, which prepared the giant machines for the catch of the previous Slaughter Fleet. Krakenwyrm, dragon shark, infant leviathan and hammerhead corpses oozed blood and bile over the floors and into the sea. Although they were tainted, the waters still flowed just enough to let the small cleaning boats and trawlers through which were already gathering around the Killhouse collecting the scraps, both the unneeded and the edible ones.
"Nothing wasted that has value, eh?" Garen observed the process, him and Irelia being led through the Killhouse on a tour of the place. Today was their first work day and they made sure to get all the details they needed for their jobs the days before. Lemmy was helpful despite his demeanor; he had seen a lot of action and knew each and every monster that prowled the Guardian Sea and the Serpent Isles. That was their name for their home, named after the great serpents of the sea that dwelled around the islands. He also told them of the monster horns, ancient massive horns carved by the indigenous Buhru people into the rocks. When it came time for a great hunt, the Serpent Callers would blow the horns, churning the waters and beckoning forth the sea monsters so the fleets can battle them. Today was such a day and Garen would be part of the hunt. He prepared accordingly, trading in the black iron broadsword for a giant dragon-shark bone blade, serrated, sharp and perfect for carving up the flesh of any sea monsters. He was also given a basic iron vest and leggings, not too much to slow him down but just enough to protect him from a heavy blow. Irelia, wearing a leather shirt, pants and a butcher's apron, followed behind, still trying to get used to the smell and the corpses and the sight of all the blood.
"Of course not, lad. The seas always provide, but we have to be the ones to take whatever they throw at us. Only things that randomly appear in Bilgewater are people like yourselves." Lemmy, leading the pair while sharpening the tip of his harpoon with a portable whetstone, explained what was and wasn't up to them. They were getting used to life in Bilgewater pretty quickly, but they still had a lot to learn to keep themselves alive. They stopped in front of a large slaughterhouse holding the carcass of a dragon-shark on massive nets. Butchers were already gathering, operating the saws used to cut the fins off of the beast while carvers holding serrated knives were carefully slicing off its rough skin and meat. The mouth of the beast was wide open, revealing its teeth, each of them the size of a small sword.
"This is your workplace, lass." Lemmy pointed to the mouth, particularly the rows of teeth that she had to remove. Removing a dragon-shark's tooth without damaging it was precise work and Lemmy, after getting a demonstration of Irelia's control over her blades the day before, decided she would be suited for this job. Irelia eyed the dead beast, placing a hand on its chin; it was lifeless, its soul long departed to return to the water and begin anew. At least, that's what she thought happened. All that was left was food, but what should've been an offering for the land and all who dwell upon it became feast and profit only for the hunters.
"Careful there, lass. Dragon shark skin is rougher than a normal shark's. You might hurt yourself." Lemmy warned her, but she already felt the skin's sharp scales, moving her fingers in the direction they grew in.
"I'll be fine. What should I do after I pull the teeth out?" She amazed herself at how easily she asked the question.
"See those iron chests over there? Each of them is for a specific body part. The ones with shark jaws are for teeth. Remember, pull first-"
"Then stash. Rinse and repeat, I know. What if I finish early?" She asked.
"Well, the docks pay for effort so if you think you've got what it takes, try out some of the other jobs. Otherwise, grab a pint or something." Lemmy suggested.
"Alright, this is the probably gonna be the last time you'll see each other in a few days… or ever." When it came to work, Lemmy didn't sugar-coat it. Garen was embarking on one of the single biggest Slaughter Fleets in Bilgewater. They were either expecting many catches or one really big one. Given Bilgewatians' penchant for challenge and reaching for higher prizes, it was probably the latter.
"I'll give you two a moment, but nothing more. We're on a schedule, lad." Lemmy loaded his harpoon and headed out of the slaughterhouse. The pair turned to each other, unsure of what to say that hasn't already been said.
"So… You gonna be alright? I mean, you and all this 'corpse defilement' as you put it…" Garen asked, but Irelia just scoffed.
"Speak for yourself. You're off to fight sea monsters… possibly even die." Something about that last part made her uncomfortable. Almost a month earlier, she would not have minded; she spoke the same words to him back in Noxus, when they separated. She was ready to die then, but he didn't let her. Maybe she was searching for a way to repay the favor now, but given their diverging courses, both the current and the long-term one, part of her was worried she might never get the chance.
"Remember your promise." She needed to say it, but she wasn't sure why.
"Of course, but… what brought this on?" He was genuinely curious.
"I just… I've been thinking about these last few weeks, our last two days in particular, and you were right. Despite our differences, we have to look out for each for the time being and with me being here and you being there… I don't think I can do that." She was slowly becoming more comfortable being honest with him. It paid off somewhat, judging by the reassuring hand he placed on her shoulder.
"I'll be fine. Trust me." She wanted to protest it, but that infernal smile of his, heartening and optimistic, made it frustratingly difficult. Part of her mind wondered if he knew how challenging it was to reject him when he did that, but based on what she had seen and heard of him in the brief time she had known him, he was not only unaware but he fully believed whatever words were spoken during it. Maybe that was all he needed, both to say and to believe. Before she could respond, he was already at the gates.
"Wait for me, my friend. I'll return." Garen turned one last time, expression stoic but no less friendly. He left, his sword and footsteps being the only things Irelia could see and hear.
'No point dwelling on it. Time to get to work… Spirit forgive me…' She braced her blades and began carefully carving the gums of the dragon-shark.
Garen walked to the edge of the Killhouse, turning a corner and meeting with a marvelous sight; thirty ships, all of them armed, the five largest armored with extra layers of ironwood and about two thousand four hundred crew members all loading and preparing supplies, guns, harpoons and armaments.
"There you are, lad." Lemmy greeted him, but Garen was too intrigued by the sight to notice him. An elbow to his side got his attention.
"Oh. My apologies, I-"
"Quite the thing, ain't it lad? This is gonna be the single biggest embarking yet. Them old Callers noticed the seas' cleanliness and summoned almost all of our ships." Lemmy led him through the crowds and up the deck of the Titan Jaw, the flagship of the Slaughter Fleet. It was a massive dreadnaught with its bow modeled like a shark's mouth, a large cannon protruding from the 'throat'. The broadsides were outfitted with at least thirty cannons in three rows. On the deck stood three tall masts made of the finest ironwood in Bilgewater. To top it off, the entire ship was painted with symbols of Nagakabouros, similar to the mansion Garen and Irelia visited.
"That's her, lad. The Titan Jaw, Bilgewater's biggest and baddest monster killing vessel. The Callers told me to prepare her specifically. You know what this means, laddie?" Lemmy had a wild look in his eyes, enforced further by his hungry smile.
"This is gonna be a hunt to be remembered. Legendary, even." Lemmy slapped Garen's shoulder as he led him up the deck. Garen grew curious about both the vessel and the hunt.
"How many monsters has this ship killed?"
"Its track record is fifty seven. They were all big meats, too. Not like them small serpents or hammerheads you saw back at the slaughter docks and nothing like the dragon-sharks your lass is skinning, either. Some of the beasts this ship has slain were the size of a small mountain and with the strength of a mountain drake." Lemmy inspected the rudder. Everything was working properly. The other crew members were finalizing preparations, as was the entire fleet.
"Quite impressive, but to have this vessel plus twenty-nine others head out… What are we hunting exactly?" Garen asked.
"That's for our Caller to tell us. The Fleet is stopping by the Serpent Horns west of the bay. Those are open waters and with plenty of room to maneuver and fight, which the Fleet will need. Like I said, lad, the only certain thing about this hunt is the size of the monster." Lemmy strapped his harpoon gun to the rack near the rudder, which was filled save for his spot.
"You remember your job, lad?"
"Right next to yours, yes. We are the harpooners. Once the Hookshots restrain whatever monster we are chasing, you, me and several others fire our harpoons onto the beast and then jump onto it, hit the weak spots and make sure it's dead. After that, we haul in the carcass and get our rewards." Garen summed up his role.
"Good man. Looks like we're just about ready, too." Lemmy looked to the docks, the captains of the fleet now calling all hands to the ships.
"All aboard, you bilgerats! Loose the sails, hoist the anchor and let's do what we were born to do!" Lemmy shouted out to his crew, which hailed him heartily and obeyed his orders. The giant anchor of the Titan Jaw was raised and the sails were loose, the Mother Serpent adorning them and raising the spirits of the sailors. Garen, however, studied the symbol; the five eyes represented desire, the teeth represented danger and the tentacles represented opportunity. All three combined represented life; we chase our desires, face the dangers and challenges in our way with the opportunities presented to us and then return to the vortex to begin yet again. At least, that's how Velvet described it, as she was a believer.
He was not a religious man nor did he ever imagine he would become one. Mortals led too short a life for a god of any sort to understand, so if they couldn't be bothered with mortals, why should mortals bother with them? He never truly understood why anyone would bow to something they didn't understand or at least had any idea what they dealt with. Belief was another core element of the human soul, however, and Garen understood that one most of all. Everyone had to believe in something, whether it was a higher power, the goodness in others, a nation's creed or in oneself. It was one of things capable of keeping corruption away from the soul, if utilized properly.
Loud horn sounds pulled him away from his thoughts as the ships began casting off. Lemmy and the other captains all pulled out a Golden Kraken, tossing them in the water, paying the Tithe to the Mother Serpent for safe passage to their destination. With the Titan Jaw at the head, the five dreadnoughts at her sides, the Hookshots at the middle and the Cannoneers and monster trawlers in the back, the largest Slaughter Fleet embarked on its hunt. Though the sun was shining, the winds were restless, pushing the sails faster and faster towards open water. All hands were at their stations, Garen himself helping out with the harpoon cannons. The seas were undulating, waves rousing the ships and preparing them for conflict.
Nagakabouros made the day ripe for battle, men and monsters ready to meet head on and fight 'till glory or death.
Irelia carved out the last of the dragon-shark's teeth, her apron and boots drenched in blood. The marked chest was full, each of the teeth having been carefully stashed by Irelia in orderly columns. She breathed out, letting the horrid deed out of her. She wasn't used to so much flesh carving or blood.
"Oi, new girl. If you're done here, get your stash out to the storage house and then take a break. We've got another one of these buggers coming in tomorrow." Another butcher called out, a woman carrying two sets of carving knives, one on her back and the other in her hands.
"Very well…" She was looking forward to only one of the upcoming events. The butcher left for one of the larger wyrms, grinding her knives against each other. It appalled Irelia how eager people here were to kill living things, carve and steal from dead ones and be ignorant of their own greed. She eyed her bloody deed once again, mouth deprived of teeth, sides and spine without fins and tailless. She could never fathom why hunters in other regions of the world thought they deserved all the spoils of the kill. Not only did it harm the land, but it harmed its denizens as well; other creatures needed to feed as well, nurturing the balance of nature by doing so. Humans thought everything always belonged to them. Greed was something ingrained in human nature, as was desire for power. It was inside her as well, though she wanted to use both for different reasons. If one could not go against nature, one could at least redirect the flow to better and more useful purposes. It was just another of the philosophies dancing taught her.
She grabbed the stash, eyeing the dead shark one last time. The part responsible for the fraying emotion known as pity managed to take control over her for a little bit, making her put down the chest and going over to the corpse.
"I'm sorry. You probably didn't deserve to be defiled like this. I hope you can forgive me." She spoke, placing a hand on its scarred tissue. It looked peaceful apart from a small grumble… which then got louder. Irelia backed away in alarm; the corpse was twitching. She readied her blades, following the rumbling along the body to the toothless mouth. From the throat of the shark, a strange small creature jumped out, landing on its behind, yelling out in disgust and shaking off saliva and stomach fluids on the ground. Irelia's alarm gave way to curiosity and wariness; the creature had blue skin, tentacle-like protrusions on its head, big green eyes and carried a strange three-pronged trident. Her blades lowered and reformed, but she still remained on guard.
"Ugh… Bleh! 'I'll be fine, Chomper. I just wanna talk to it…' Yeah, that's the last time I don't listen to him…" To Irelia's surprise, the creature spoke in a raspy but childlike tone. After shaking off the bile on its head, it got up in an acrobatic fashion, twirling to its feet with the help of the trident. It looked around, eyeing its surroundings with more curiosity than fear or disgust until it spotted Irelia, who recoiled slightly at its lit-up eyes.
"Hi there! I'm Fizz. You're probably wondering what I'm doing in the belly of a dragon-shark. Well, you aren't the first one, let me tell you. Chomper also warned me not to talk to this one, something about it being too dangerous to come near to. So me being me, I don't listen to him, swim straight up to this guy, say hi… and then he eats me! What the heck, right?! So while in his stomach, I figure 'eh, might as well make myself as comfy as I can be before he craps me out or throws me up', but then he dies, gets netted and I end up here! Go figure, right? So uh… what's your name?" The creature calling itself Fizz introduced himself and his current adventure.
"I, uhm… I am called Irelia. Nice to… meet you." She was talking to him, a yordle-like creature that came out of the stomach of a dead dragon-shark. Was every first meeting in Bilgewater this peculiar?
"Nice to meet you too, Irelia! Y'know, most folks around here shoo me away, swing swords at me or try to shoot me. Good to finally meet someone who actually says 'hi'. Well, other than Chomper, of course." Fizz hopped around her, trying to get a better look at her.
"What's that behind your head?" He asked.
"My family's crest."
"What's it do?" He didn't show any signs of stopping.
"It splits into blades." She demonstrated by separating the crest.
"That's so cool… I have this trident! I kinda found it after my home was destroyed and my people died. It's probably not cooler than your blades, but it has weird sea powers that I've been trying to unlock. Been using it ever since I grabbed it, with the usual jumping on it, eating with it and occasionally stabbing a few select people's butts. Never gets old." Fizz laughed at his own shenanigans.
"Wait… your people and home were destroyed? That must have felt horrible…" Irelia looked slightly surprised, extending any empathy she could. She had never seen a creature such as him, so she was shocked to hear there used to be more like him.
"Yeah, but I'm not alone! The seas are my home now and Chomper is my best friend. He helps me through rough days, tight spots and is generally a very friendly guy." Fizz felt the need to assuage her concerns. She seemed like a pleasant and kind person, a far cry from Bilgewater's common residents. He liked her.
"Chomper?" Irelia finally asked about Fizz's strange acquaintance.
"Yeah. He's the single coolest dragon-shark that prowls the waters. Stealthy, smart, cunning, super strong and a little bit curious. Kinda like me, except for the super strong part." Fizz described his partner.
"Dragon-shark? Oh… I see…" Irelia looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. Fizz was confused, but one look at the stash of teeth and the blood on her apron told him everything.
"Oh! Don't worry about this guy. He was a horrible jerk, only eating and killing for sport. Well, that's what Chomper told me, but based on how rude this guy was to me, he was telling the truth." Fizz pointed to the dragon-shark carcass, kicking it in the chin.
"Serves you right, you jerkwad." Fizz wanted to mouth off his anger, but felt a hand on his small shoulder.
"Come on. Don't do that. You'll just be acting like a jerk yourself." Irelia lectured the miffed little blue creature. It felt strange teaching him manners, but Fizz had the attitude of a child coupled with a strange aquatic wisdom. Her soul felt a tiny string slowly bonding with his.
"Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks for helping me, though." Fizz turned to her, a big smile on his face.
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, if it wasn't for you, I'd have never seen the right way out. Those teeth were messing up my nose and eyes and I didn't want to get out… the other way." Fizz pointed to his own butt.
"Oh… uhm… you're welcome, Fizz." She said, earnest and confused.
"Say, do you need something in return? A few chests of gold, maybe? I know this place where these old gangers used to stash their ill-gotten loot and maybe-" Fizz started, but Irelia interrupted him.
"No, Fizz. I appreciate the thought, but I must pull my own weight. Stealing, even from thieves, is not for me." Irelia stood by her principles.
"But I feel like I need to give you something, at least… Oh, I know!" Fizz stuck his trident in the floor and dove back in the shark's mouth, baffling Irelia. The corpse twitched as Fizz passed through it, delving deeper into its stomach. After a few moments, it stopped. Irelia was growing concerned for some reason.
"Fizz?" She called out.
"Found it!" His muffled cry came out of the mouth, him making his way back and leaping out, shaking off the bile yet again. He held something shiny in his right hand.
"Here. I found this in the intestines. Dunno what it is but it's shiny and looks valuable." Fizz held out a small golden plate adorned with strange markings on the edges and a ruby X in the middle.
"Fizz, I-" Irelia started, but Fizz cut her off.
"Just take it, alright? Throw it in the ocean, put it back in the stomach or sell it. I don't care what you do with it, as long as it yours to do with as you please." Fizz seemed insistent. He really didn't like being indebted to people who did right by him and he made sure they knew it. Irelia was hesitant, but she didn't want to disappoint the little guy.
"Very well." Irelia took the golden plate, studying the markings which resembled hands.
"What is it?" She asked. Fizz just shrugged.
"I dunno. I just stumbled on it while inside that guy's stomach. Looks like it's been torn out of something though, don't it?" Fizz eyed it. Irelia felt the edges of the plate; the markings were indeed incomplete, like they were a part of something more. Furthermore, the X-shaped ruby in the center peaked her interest. What was it meant to represent? Before she could study it further, Fizz grabbed a shark tooth from the chest.
"I'll just take one of these, then. Need something to bring back to the seas, right? Besides, I need proof to show to Chomper or he'll never believe my story." Fizz jumped on his trident, skillfully detaching from the ground and grabbing it with his hand.
"Thanks again, Irelia." Fizz extended his hand, but before Irelia could shake it, the butcher lady from before entered the room.
"New girl, where's your che- What the… YOU AGAIN!" The lady pointed at Fizz, drawing her knives. Fizz, smiling slyly and twirling his trident mischievously, hopped over her swing, knocking her aside and dashing out the doors.
"Gotta run. See ya, Irelia!" He waved goodbye while dodging the thrown knife. Outside the docks, some of the dockhands caught sight of Fizz, giving chase and yelling curses after him. The butcher lady ran out after him, shark teeth and their value completely forgotten. Irelia was left alone once again, dumbfounded but also a little bit amused. Deciding there was no point dawdling, she grabbed the chest, now a tooth short, and headed out to the warehouse.
The winds were impatient, carrying the Slaughter Fleet on the westernmost side of the Isles, a Buhru settlement coming in sight of the crow nests. Even from this distance, Garen could make out the rows of stalagmites protruding from the water. As the fleet approached, he saw massive fish coiled around them, their mouths open as if trying to drink the seas. Upon closer inspection, however, they weren't fish. The Buhru Monster Horns surprised him with their designs, as did the approaching boat, a small vessel decorated with flowers, fruits, tentacles and manned by two people. The fleet's own horns sounded off, anchors dropping instantly and the entire fleet halting its advance.
"They're early... That's new." Lemmy commented, preparing a ladder for the boat. Once it was close enough, the figures took it, climbing aboard. The rower, a small but stout girl and a strangely dressed aging man; his sleeves were decorated like tentacles while his hood was similar to that of the Monster Horns. His mantle resembled that of a priest's, decorated with sea symbols and the familiar face of the Kraken.
"Motoi. You're early, old man." Lemmy greeted the elder priest, who returned the greeting.
"Nagakabouros is eager today. The other elders predicted a great hunt and sent me to make sure it goes through. I see you brought everything so let's not delay. Take me to the horns." Motoi explained, motioning his rower to leave. The girl jumped in the water, swam to the boat and then rowed away from the fleet.
"Why did she not just climb down the ladder?" Garen asked.
"We're Buhru, whelp. We do what whatever our hearts desire. Haven't your employers taught you anything?" Motoi asked, but then began studying him.
"You're not from around here, are you boy?" He asked.
"No. I'm from Demacia." Garen answered. Motoi's face lit up in surprise.
"A Demacian? In the Serpent Isles? You're far from home … in more ways than one." Motoi noted. Garen noted his peculiar people reading skills.
"But I don't care where you're from or what you're doing here. All that matters is that you're ready to fight. So… are you ready?" He asked, indifferent of Garen's intentions or past.
"I am." He answered. Motoi, seeing his determination and will shine through his firm words, just nodded and turned to Lemmy.
"I hope he's got good aim." He commented and left for the bow of the ship.
"We'll see, won't we? Maybe he'll even make a legend for himself as a harpooner, eh?" Lemmy tapped Garen on the shoulder and motioning him to follow. The fleet's horns blasted yet again, signaling the anchor raising and departure towards the Serpent Horns. As they approached, Garen studied the constructions; they were carefully carved from the stalagmites themselves instead of being constructed on top of them, with wooden mouthpieces serving as additions to the natural constructions. Each of them was painted different hues of colors though he couldn't guess what for. Even with a small breeze passing through mouths, he could hear their call, low as it was.
"Ancient carvings, lad, in case you're wondering. Been here way before Bilgewater was even built, let alone started the hunting trade. The Buhru, the natives of these isles, built them in the image of the beasts they hunt and revere." Lemmy explained a tiny bit about the natives of the Serpent Isles.
"Hunt and revere? What do you mean?" Garen was confused.
"Battle is not a test of strength to the Buhru, Garen. It's a test of will, to live, to fight and to move forward towards whatever your goal is. The monsters of the sea are the ultimate testers of the Isles. If you can't outfight or outrun them, you die. If you can conquer them and kill them, however, you will be considered a true soul. It's a rite of passage to them, lad. To that end, much of Bilgewater's culture and way of life is adapted from their own… with our own interpretations of holiness, of course." Lemmy spoke, readying his harpoon gun. The crews of the fleet were preparing as well, cannons being loaded, hooks sharpened and prayers to the Mother Serpent being spoken by the religious.
"Ready to be a legend, lad?" Lemmy asked him.
"Harpooners are legends in Bilgewater?" Garen grew curious despite the energy in the air.
"Well, there have been many. Half-hand Ellie, Gilbert the Hawk, Pyke of Bloodharbor, Shanie Three-Eyes… too many to list. Monster hunting is just the quickest way, assuming you don't die." Grabbing the rudder, Lemmy steered the Titan Jaw, his crew sounding the horn signaling the other ships to prepare. The fleet slowly entered formation; the Titan Jaw was at the center, its armaments prepped for battle. Four of the dreadnoughts stood at her side while the fifth sailed behind the fleet. The Cannoneers were on fire support while the Hookshots stood behind the dreadnoughts, their long-range harpoon cannons ready to skewer any beast that dared show its teeth. The entire fleet faced the seas, dark and rumbling clouds from the east heralding a storm.
"Light the fire, people!" Lemmy bellowed. On the deck, two crewmen lit a giant sconce, fanning the smoke. It was a signal to the fleet and to the Callers to prepare. From the rocky shores, Motoi and the other two callers climbed up on the Serpent Horns, standing atop the structures and next to the mouthpieces. Once the last billow of smoke left for the skies, they took a deep breath and blew the horns.
The sound was unlike anything Garen had ever heard; the winds themselves gave way to the soundwave, which churned the waters and rocked the ships. Many of the younger and newer crewmen covered their ears, startled by the sound. It was louder than a dragon's roar, thundering across the sea, a deep bellow to stir the monsters and issue the challenge. It simmered down after a few minutes, the echoes still lingering in the distance. The air stood still after the call, the sun slowly hiding behind the approaching clouds. The restless winds were abruptly calmed, as if they were misbehaving children caught by their parents. The waves were flat, an unusual phenomenon for the Isles. Everyone was on edge; the crow nesters kept both their eyes sharp and on the horizons, the gunners were holding their torches tight, the harpooners' fingers were twitching and the captains were keeping their vigil on everyone aboard. Situations like this usually had people jumping overboard on the first sight of the monster. The silence was starting to affect even the priests of Nagakabouros. Motoi knew that the god promised them a hunt unlike any other, but it never spoke much beyond that. He worried about his interpreter as well, the Kraken Priestess Illaoi. She was never one for sermons or sign watching. He still wondered why Nagakabouros chose her, a reckless, selfish, unpredictable overgrown ape of a woman. Maybe those were the reasons. The only one to keep a still mind among the restive atmosphere was Garen, who took a deep breath, taking the anticipation in. He let it out, all of the clouding and hindering thoughts of defeat and death going with it, replaced by steel will, strong grip and stout heart. Beside him, Lemmy noticed his expression, smiling lightly to himself.
'He wasn't lying about the dragon or his other feats, it seems. Let's hope you live through this day, boy. Who knows, your legend may grow yet…' Lemmy knew better than to voice hope at a time like this, moving to the bow's wooden beam and kneeling at the tip. Harpooners like him observed the waters, gouging the size of the monster by the type and size of the smaller fish swimming away from it… and there were many on the way. Trouts, longfins, carps, spadetails, small sharks, salt salmons… the usual small fish, but their numbers were alarming. They swam almost in schools, gliding past the ships.
"Steady, people…" Lemmy called out to the others. Harpooners had excellent body reflexes, but their minds were still that of a human, as easily broken as they could be focused. With the clouds and the lightning almost on top of them, that pendulum was swinging in the former direction. It wasn't enough for today, it seemed; as soon as the smaller schools of fish swam by, larger ones followed; hammerheads, squids, octopuses and infant dragon-sharks all swam trough the fleet, alarming almost everyone. How large was the beast they came for?
Garen took another breath, the air saturated with a familiar rainy smell. Sure enough, small droplets began dripping onto the seas, ships and islands. The sun was completely hidden by the clouds, the long shadows cast by their obscuring forms delivering a warning and foreboding to the souls below. The light and the warmth were no longer here to give them hope. They were on their own now.
"Ahead!" One of the crow nesters yelled. Everyone cast their eyes ahead of the fleet; in the east, a wave was approaching slowly, unlike what storms and hurricanes brought in. It grew larger and larger, gradually overtaking the shores until it neared the fleet's point. The crews steeled themselves, weapons at the ready… and then the wave died down.
"At the ready!" Lemmy shouted, noticing the loosening grips on his crews. The rain was starting to pour now, drenching the decks and somewhat soothing the hotter heads. Beneath the dripping droplets on wood, a sound was breaking through from below the water. It grew from a grumble, alarming everyone and chasing away the fish completely, into a roar that churned the air and waters. Before the Titan Jaw, a massive dorsal fin arose, slowly ascending above the surface and carrying much of the water with it. A large orb of light poked out of the shadowed watery veil, illuminating it in a tiny ray of colors… and the two more lit up, with one last pair to mark the creature's upper face. More than thirty feet high and still rising, a mouth was bared, a howling darkness behind it, rows of teeth at least ten meters high, breath as foul as the abyss overtaking the fleet. Behind the abomination its giant serpent tail revealed the rest of its rows of fins, scales as sharp and wide as butcher knives, tougher than steel and littered with dried skin and bleached bones of both human and monster. From its left and right sides, four tentacles began rising, as if they were small islands being raised from the depths by some sorcery. It stood now, above all lesser beings, hundred feet off the water, its eyes suns in the darkness of the storm, its teeth a doorway into the nothingness, its tentacles extensions of death's hands.
A Mother Leviathan.
The roar, a challenge in the tongues of beasts, deafened the crews, some of them falling overboard from the force, its sonic waves blasting away the waters and blowing off the masts on the smaller ships. The anchors barely held them in place, struggling against the abomination's scream. Garen, barely holding on himself, looked around, making sure everyone was still here and with their heads still on their shoulders. Lemmy, hearing returned, eyed the monster, taking in its very existence… and finally giving the order.
"BATTLE STATIONS!" At Lemmy's bellow, the crews yelled out their battlecries, some out of courage, others scared out of their skins but going on anyway and some out of insanity and fearlessness. The Titan Jaw fired the first round, its bow guns hitting the scales of the Mother Leviathan. The other ships followed suit, as did the clouds with their own take of lightning and thunder. Amidst the chaos, Garen gripped his sword and harpoon, mind steady despite the burning atmosphere.
The battle had begun… and it would end with either victory or death.
The slaughter docks were on full alert for the Tidal Trickster, dockhands searching every nook, corner and cranny for the little blue yordle. Business continued, however, as corpses cared not who gutted them first. The butchers had to make sure it was them and not the bacteria or the wharf rats. Irelia walked past all the commotion, eager to leave and return home. She rounded the corner of the docks and was met with the sea; sprawling blue waves, birds she had never seen before circling, fish swimming through the rocky spires, ships sailing in and out. Deciding to take a detour, she descended down a flight of wooden stairs which lead down a secluded waterway, one unspoiled by brine, filth and company. Following it, she found a small paradise; a beach untouched by anything other than salt and seawater. Spotting a lone rock, she took a seat, resting her weary soul. The sun was on its last afternoon course, slowly beginning to color the horizon orange, warming her back through the shanties and cliffs. She looked northeast, to the direction of her homeland. What was happening there now? Was Navori in turmoil because of her disappearance? Did the Brotherhood take control, using her 'death' as an excuse to turn its people from proud to spiteful? She stopped once she realized she was losing control of the crest, as she subconsciously separated it into blades. She looked back to the skies, the dim lights of the stars slowly coming into the sky's darkening blue veil. There was no one around. She was finally alone.
'Stretch and breathe. A hand's movement, shoulder to wrist. Let the body's energy flow through all of its parts, not just the ones you need. Feet on the ground but never off the air. Feel it through all motions. Let it guide you.'
She began, using the waves as a template. Extended arms, shoulder to wrist, moving in circles along with her upper body. A swiftly risen leg, brought down slowly in a motion as fluid as the water she danced near. A twirl, mimicking a cyclone's force but not its destruction, on a perfectly balanced foot. A sidestep, mirroring the same motions previously made. A step back, twirling with the breeze, arms above and leg lifted back. A step to the left, a half-turn, stretching her arms in the same direction, her left knee lifted.
"And… back to center." She whispered to the sea and wind, returning to her original position with one last half-turn. Despite the city's greedy shadow and cliffs' looming stature, she felt the peace of the land. It was nothing like Ionia's calm grass rivers, rice fields or luminous forests, but she could still hear it. Something strange hung in the air, however. Foreboding gripped her ankles and wrists, as if it was warning her about a coming danger. She cast her eyes further westward, spotting the gathering clouds over the farthest islands… where the Slaughter Fleet was.
"Garen…" The crest was separating again. She retracted it and disconnected it from her mind, lowering it gently to the sand.
"Great Spirit… I hope you can hear me, even in this place." She clasped her hands; when she was younger, O-ma always told her stories of the Great Spirit of Ionia, a presence that resides inside every Ionian creature, soul and plant, tying the land together in harmony. She told her granddaughter that if she is ever distressed or is uncertain of her course, she should simply reach out, in any way or form. The Great Spirit would hear her without a doubt.
"I have never prayed for myself, nor have I asked others to pray for me. I never will. I made a vow to myself to put others before me, to be their hope, their light and their courage. I am far from home now, surrounded by strangers whose ways are abhorrent to me, to everything Ionia taught me. Before that, I was truly alone, in darkness and in chains and in a land so twisted and perverted by war and slaughter that it had forgotten the meaning and value of life. In that land, however, something happened. Or rather, someone. I don't know if you sent him, Great Spirit, if it was some other gods' intervention, the machinations of fate or a simple coincidence. I met a warrior from a land far away from Ionia, so far that it may as well be on the other side of the world. I didn't think much of him at first, and he wasn't. He was a stubborn fool, noble to a fault and so brave that he turned full-circle into stupid." She smiled of the memories of them escaping together.
"And yet, in the name of family, I abandoned him. I ran away in the other direction, clinging to the past and its pieces. In that giant bastion, I should've died. I would've finally seen my family again…" She took a breath, thinking of her parents, their advice and careful guidance of the choices she made while young. She thought of her siblings, their roughhousing, misbehavior and wanton teasing. At the end of the day, however, they all stuck together. She thought of her grandmother, who, despite her cheery and laid back demeanor, was always ready to teach her the next step or the next twirl. She missed them greatly, but she reflected that through her dances, as she did everything else. Each motion made in secret expressed everything inside her, built up and released into the world through her movements. It was the only audience she needed; being a symbol left little time for oneself.
"But by those same strange machinations… choices… whatever it was… he returned for me. The fool part was confirmed then and there, but so were the brave and noble parts. There was another part, though, one I had not seen in the midst of battle, especially not a battle for survival. He was… understanding of my burdens. He never chastised me, even though he had every right. He… accepted my plight and helped me carry it. He called me something I had not heard in a long time and I would never have expected from someone so different, so… opposite of me." She remembered his decision, the one that cost him journey home. She couldn't help but feel responsible for his predicament. He never blamed her, for some reason. Still, she felt guilty… but she could never bring herself to admit it. And then… he used that word…
"He called me friend. Despite the beliefs he held and the laws he swore to uphold, of which I am, or would be, in violation of, he thinks of me as a friend. Despite our views, he never once believed I was a symbol of my nation nor did he talk to me like I was one. He treated me as a person, with disagreements, choices, feelings and reason. I knew right then and there… He meant what he said." Irelia smiled at the thought of Garen, a stubborn, hardy, lawful yet emphatic and encouraging soldier of Demacia, making her feel more… normal. It wouldn't last, but she would take what he freely and gladly offered. Her expression turned longing, a tinge of hope layered on top of it.
"Come to think of it, we weren't that different in the stubbornness part… or the fool part. He was just as headstrong in continuing on his path as I was on mine. And that's why… That's why I am asking this of you now, Great Spirit." She clasped her hands tighter, her eyes shut and her mind on the Demacian fool with an irritating and irresistible smile.
"Keep Garen safe. I cannot do so from here. My soul was too… burdened to go with him. So, please… return my friend to me." It was as simple as requests go and as human as wishes go. She hoped the Spirit heard her plea.
"Who's Garen?" Within an instant, the crest returned to her, splitting itself as she turned to the noise.
"Whoa, hey! It's me, Irelia! It's just me." The little blue yordle came out of hiding. She lowered her blades, letting out the breath of wariness she held.
"You really shouldn't eavesdrop on people, Fizz. Weren't you taught manners?" Even though it was only the yordle, she still couldn't help but be angry. He meant well, but her only desire was solace for the time being.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to, but I didn't wanna interrupt. You looked like you were having fun… until you started praying or whatever that was." Fizz threw his trident next to her, hopping on it and sliding down the pole. He sat next to her, eyes filled with curiosity.
"So, you gonna tell me who Garen is?"
"He's a soldier from Demacia. We were both captured by Noxus and sentenced to die. We helped each other escape and came here." Irelia gave him the short version of her and Garen's meeting.
"Sounds like a nice guy." Fizz commented.
"Yeah, well… he's tenacious, headstrong, stubborn to fault and a bit of a fool. He's also noble, considerate and fair. In short, he's my friend." Irelia summed up the Demacian and her relationship with him.
"Sounds like a really nice guy. So… where is he now?" Fizz asked. Irelia pointed to the gathering storm west.
"There. He is part of a Slaughter Fleet, hunting beasts in order to pay off his debts and secure a passage home. We both are, but butchering monsters is… difficult for me. Hunting them is a sacred trial in my homeland, not sport and business like in this place. I couldn't go with him, so I asked the Great Spirit to watch over him." Irelia felt just as relaxed around the yordle as she did with Garen.
"Huh… that's a mighty big storm, even from here. Ah well. If he's as tough as you make him out to be, I'm sure he'll be just-" Fizz began, but a sound came from the seas, growing louder. It was a roar, coming from the west where the fleet was. The entire city heard it, people already gathering above, their chatter and cries heard even from down where the two were. The waters and winds were restless, throwing Irelia into anxiousness. Fizz just stared worried. He knew what it was and Irelia saw it in his eyes.
"Fizz? What was that?"
"You said he was with a Slaughter Fleet in that direction, right?" He asked.
"Yes, but what was that sound? It came from there, Fizz. Please… answer me." She looked worried.
"A Mother Leviathan. Best you don't know the details, but let's just say your guy better be a really good fighter and survivor." Fizz told her, glee and light disappearing from his eyes, replaced by honesty and solemnity. Knowing the yordle's antics, seeing those emotions in his eyes sent a wave of anguish through her body.
Her heart clasped shut, trying to keep the despair from entering it. Her mind only had one thought, hoping it would reach him.
'Remember your promise.'
Lightning flashed, followed by thunder's roar as the Mother Leviathan raised her tentacle, smashing apart one of the Cannoneers, its crew either lucky enough to be killed or falling into the water, where the sharks, drawn in by the smell of blood, circled and attacked them. The other vessels kept their barrages up, but nothing could penetrate its hide, the hooks only getting stuck on its scales while the cannonballs bounced off, dropping into the sea. Amidst the battle, Garen, Lemmy and a team of harpooners stood at the helm of the Titan Jaw.
"Alright, lads and lasses! Listen up! That thing's hide is impenetrable, save for six points; its throat and its five eyes! The tentacles keep the throat covered, so we need them raised in order to expose it!" Lemmy bellowed over the fight, another ship being smashed to pieces.
"How do we do that?!" One of the harpooners asked.
"We distract her! She is already preoccupied with the others, which gives us a clear shot at her! We fire our lines at the tentacle on our right, the one closest to its mouth! Once there, we climb up towards her eyes and stab 'em out! Once she reels in pain, our Hookshots will fire on the rest of the tentacles to disable them, leaving her throat open for the Titan Jaw! We leave only when she's down, and not before! We'll just die if we do!" Lemmy laid out the plan, already at his position and prepping his gun. The others, including Garen, took up their places and stood ready. The Mother Leviathan smashed into one of the dreadnoughts, unable to bring it down from the force alone. As she coiled her tentacle around it, she raised another one in order to crush it completely, giving Lemmy, Garen and the others a clear shot.
"GO!" Lemmy fired, latching the spike onto the scaled of the tentacle. The others fired as well, all of the shots hitting and latching on. As the Mother Leviathan slowly raised her tentacle, the harpooners reeled in their lines, pulled of the ground with the Leviathan's own strength. They got through just barely before the monster brought the tentacle down on the dreadnought, snapping its hull in half. Securing their lines, they grabbed on to the scales, careful not to slice their own hands off from too much on their edges.
"Climb, people! CLIMB!" Lemmy bellowed through the thunder and cannon fire. Through rain and steely scales, the harpooners began their long climb. When Nagakabouros promised hunts, however, it did not pull its punches. The Leviathan, thrashing after wrecking the dreadnought, noticed the shouts on its left side, turning its massive head and spotting the harpooners, now exposed to her glowing, hungry eyes.
"She sees us!" One of the harpooners shouted, but it was too late; the furthest left tentacle rose up, slowly winding up to turn them into smears across the Leviathan's scales.
"LOOSE GRIPS! JUMP!" Lemmy shouted. They began loosening their grips, but the tentacle was already on top of them, smashing into the scales and grinding the ones caught right under it into chunks of meat and bone. Lemmy was thrown off by the force of the smash, dropping into the water like a cannonball. His brain wanted to go dark from the pain, but he forced himself to consciousness, driven by nothing but will. He eyed his surroundings and spotted it; a hungry hammerhead eyeing him, food for its belly. He turned to it, gripping his harpoon.
'Come get me then, you bastard.' He waited until the hammerhead lunged, teeth going for his head. Once it was right on top of him, he ducked under it, bringing up his harpoon and slicing it jaw to belly. Making sure there weren't any left, he swam up to the surface. Ships were sinking, burning wreckages ignited by their own powder lighting the water, illuminating the blood, corpses and death.
'Great hunt, my arse… This isn't a hunt, this is a massacre.' Lemmy was appalled, but quickly regained his composure when he spotted a ladder being thrown near him. He landed near the Titan Jaw, his luck still holding out after all these years. Once aboard, he scanned the waters near the tentacle.
'Melvin, Tillis, Helena, Jonah… all of them…' He mourned for his harpooners as he found bits of their clothing.
"Captain, it's all gone to hell! One dreadnought is at the bottom of the sea, three Cannoneers and a trawler as well! Three hundred souls and going lost to the seas as well! We need to retreat!" His First Mate reported on the situation, not that he needed a report. They lost their only shot. He stared out near the tentacle again… looking for something. He didn't spot anything that belonged to him.
"Where's Garen?!" He asked. The First Mate shook his head in confusion.
The massive tentacle retracted from the scales, dragging the powdery chunks of flesh to the ocean. As the Mother Leviathan turned her attention to the fleet once more, a lone hand gripped her scales. Garen, having barely held onto his harpoon, was hanging out of sight of the monster, clutching the scales in his right hand and the embedded harpoon in his left. He took in a breath once more, trying to steady his mind; he had never fought or even seen something like this before. Dragons were mobile and strong, but not very bright. This creature not only had a cunning predatory mind, but also an unrelenting desire to destroy all who challenged it. He grabbed hold, climbing the scales carefully and silently, masked by the darkness, thunder, cannon fire and screams. The rain poured at full force and yet the scales remained dry, as if absorbing the fresh water. Garen, securing a better grip in place, peered out of the creature's side; the fleet was in disarray, ships sinking, men and women drowning, being ripped apart, fighting off sharks or crushed to death by either the debris or tentacles. He looked down, trying to clear his head once more.
Nothing helped against that. It was easy for him to get used to a skirmish, a clean ambush or a defensive battle. This was a nightmare. The monster, its size and strength were augmented by its cleverness, was destroying the fleet ship by ship, not allowing any of them to reveal its weakness. Once again, he found himself on the edge of hope. He looked down to the water; there were no sharks behind the monster. He could let go and swim across, to one of the islands. The screams of battle, both those of the monster and the crews, however, chained him to the spot. They depended on him…
They didn't even know if he was alive or dead… In the cover of darkness, he could turn away, get to one of the other islands and find some other means of returning home…
'May you dream of home…'
'Remember your promise.'
Why? Why was her voice in his thoughts? Why now, of all times?
Because he would be abandoning her, too. All for a desire to survive and return home.
He opened his eyes, steel will and light of hope melding inside them, and tightened his grip on the harpoon. He looked up, measuring the distance of the climb; he had about a hundred feet to scale before he reached the head. Courage returned once more, he pulled out the harpoon and began climbing. Home was far away… and this monster stood in his path. He picked up the pace, slowly reaching thirty feet before the monster reeled back. Garen quickly stabbed his harpoon into its scales, holding on for life as the rest of the scales were slowly cutting the skin of his free hand, testing his Demacian conditioning and fortitude. It all suddenly paused… and then the Leviathan snapped forward, teeth open and descending fat towards the water. The force of the snap threw him upward, gaining at least eighty feet. From the front, however, he heard explosions and screams, complimented by an orange light from the mouth of the monster. The Leviathan had just devoured another of the dreadnoughts, its ironwood hull no match for its teeth.
'Keep going. Just… keep climbing.' He steadied his mind for what felt like the tenth time this day, slowly ascending the last twenty feet towards the monster's head.
The fleet was taking a beating; two of its dreadnoughts were at the bottom of the sea, the rest were targeted by the Leviathan who was unrelenting in its assault. From the Serpent Horns, Motoi and the others watched, marveling at the Leviathan; a Mother has not been seen in the last three hundred years. The paylangi, as they called them, finally enabled this glorious event by cleaning the waters around their home, but it appears they were not ready to face one of Nagakabouros' greatest testers.
"Motoi, should we leave? The battle goes ill for the paylangi, it seems." One of the other priests asked. Motoi just stood his ground, cape billowing behind him from the wind, yet his stance and vision undeterred. If this was Nagakbouros' will, he would see it done, no matter which way it went.
"I'm staying. Do what you want." The old caller stood up a bit more upright, taking in the sights, smells and sounds of the great battle. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity; despite others' claims, Nagakabouros was generous to those that followed it, provided they knew how to take what the god offered.
"We can't hold out much longer, captain! She's ripping everything apart!" The First Mate yelled out, barely holding the rudder still.
"Aye, we have no choice, it seems... All hands! Prepare the-" Lemmy began shouting, but as he watched the Leviathan, lightning flashed, revealing a lone figure climbing for the head. Lemmy's mind processed the image; the Demacian was alive and going for the head. There was hope yet.
"Keep the ship steady. We need the Breaker." He turned solemn, yet smiling.
"What?! But captain-!"
"DO AS I SAY!" He bellowed, running below deck. Within seconds, the bow jaws of the ship opened, revealing a massive cannon, its metal decorated with many carvings. Lemmy and his crew were already loading it with a huge cannonball.
Above in the skies, Garen finally reached the top, the Leviathan completely ignoring him in favor of the fleet. He looked down, the bloody and chummed waters illuminated by the fires and lightning flashes, wreckages sinking and screams of battle and horror filling the air. It was a small reflection of war on the sea, caused by one creature. Carefully sliding down the scales, Garen took out his serrated bone sword, measuring the distance from the crown of the head to the eye, marked by the glow. From down below, Lemmy peered from out the opening, the cannon completely shadowing him and loaded with a single shot. The Breaker was the main weapon of the Titan Jaw, a colossal gun meant only for the biggest monsters. It had only been fired two times in its service, going for a third now. He saw Garen at the top, sword drawn and at the ready.
"Aim it, lads and lasses!" Lemmy returned to the hull, helping his crew with the giant wheels as they pushed, aiming the cannon at the Leviathan's throat.
One shot; everyone knew it that was all it would take to end this fight. Everyone also knew that it would be the only shot they had. There was no middle ground with the Leviathan; they would win or they would die. Glory awaited those with legends in their minds, while survival was enough for those fear in their hearts. Lemmy just wanted this over and done with. He lost enough for today. Garen, closing his eyes, took a moment to think of what would happen next. This monster was only one of the many obstacles barring his way home, a home he yearned for more than its hunger and fury, more than the Bilgewatians' greed could consume. He gripped the sword tight, taking one last deep breath before the leap.
Eyes open, he jumped, his homeland's name shouted at the skies, breaking through the sounds of battle below, his hope greater than their desire.
"DEMACIA!" The Leviathan's eye couldn't spot him before it was too late; twirling midair, he jabbed the sword directly into the glowing white tip at the top, pulling and sliding down with all his weight. The eye split apart, myriad of colors erupting from the dissipating light as Garen carved it downward, followed by a hue of dark red. The Leviathan roared in pain, raising its tentacles instinctively to destroy the fool who thought he could harm her. Garen's sword reached the bottom eyelid, embedding itself tightly into the flesh. He tried to pry it loose, but the tentacles coming for him caught his attention. Right on top of him, they reared, faster than before, driven by the Leviathan's fury. Before they could get near him, however, hundreds of hooks, big and small fired up in the air, netting and jabbing the tentacles. The fleet still had enough ships to pull of the plan, it seemed. The crews reeled the winches of the harpoons back, struggling to maintain the tentacles in the air. From the center, Lemmy saw it; as the tentacles were pulled apart, a soft fleshy downward line revealed itself beneath the Leviathan's mouth.
One chance, one breath caught between everyone, the storm crashing all of its remaining lightning down and in the middle of it, a monster and a man, caught together and awaiting their fates, all of it broken with one single word.
"FIRE!" Lemmy used up all the air in his lungs in that one command.
A deep boom echoed through the darkness, hues of red and orange marking its beginning. The Titan Jaw reeled back, knocking its crew of their feet from the force. Metal pierced air… and then flesh. The cannonball tore through the throat, goring the insides and bursting out of the back, flying through the air and landing out in the open water, crushing every fish that wasn't fast enough to escape its shadow. Garen was knocked loose, dropping into the water beneath like he was a cannonball himself, his iron armor weighing him down. The sharks scattered, frightened away by the boom of the cannon, giving him ample room to rip his armor off and start swimming towards the surface. Even through the waves, he could hear it.
A savage roar, fading out slowly, drowned in blood, metal and sea water. Tentacles slowly descending down into the water, their fury soothed by one last dying breath… four orbs of light dimming, glimpses of colors in all of them reaching out into the darkness one last time… all culminating in one final fall, creating a great wave that washed away the grime of battle, wreckage, corpses and blood swept away in one wave and given to seas, as was rightfully theirs. The rain was subsiding, clouds giving way to tiny rays of light, their small reflections shining across the water's surface. In one moment, all was peaceful.
Every soul that was left alive looked at the Mother Leviathan; what was once grand and beautiful was now a carcass. It was now their prize. From the island, Motoi and the priests said a silent prayer of gratitude to Nagakabouros before descending down the rocks to rejoin the fleet. As realization finally set it, a cheer erupted, then another, then five more…
Cries of relief, happiness and victory filled the air. Lemmy allowed himself a small smile, while Garen swam to the Titan Jaw, climbing aboard its deck to be met with cheers, pats and weapons raised in the sky, those who knew his name chanting with the rest following suit. He didn't care much for revelry, having been the center of it many times, but he understood why people did it. Just this once, he would be their symbol of joy. He raised his sword, a cry of victory accompanying it, elevating the chants and cheers even further.
The battle was over. On this day, man triumphed over monster.
Bilgewater was on edge; the final sounds of the battle, the cannon and the last roar echoed through the air. From her mansion, Sarah watched westward, twirling her guns anxiously.
"You weren't this alarmed since the last Harrowing." Rafen came up behind her, hand on his sword. He shared the feeling, it seemed.
"Hey, if you know what the hell that was, you're welcome to assuage me." Sarah let out some her frustration in the form of sarcasm. She knew Rafen didn't mind, but she still felt bad afterwards.
"You're right. Sorry. I just-" Rafen began, but Sarah cut him off.
"Don't. I'm sorry, Raf. It's just… Well, everything's changed, y'know? I thought making this city better would lessen problems, not make different ones. First the old gangs, then the Bloodharbor murders and now whatever the hell that was…" She pointed out to the direction of the roar.
"I don't think this place wants to settle down sometimes…" She sounded tired all of a sudden. Rafen knew the upset of power would take its toll on her, but he didn't expect it this soon. Luckily, he'd seen this kind of thing in people before.
"That's what it'll always be, Sarah. You know that. Best we can do is fight off the old ways, make better ones and ensure the next generation follows them until they are ready to make their own." Rafen reiterated her own goal to her. She had grown, from that dour young girl filled with desire and vengeance to a capable and tested leader ready to lay down her life for all she held dear. The growth was sudden, however, and she wasn't used to the jading and the wearing out.
"I love it when you repeat my words like some schoolboy." She teased, smile returned on her face.
"Wow… I put my heart into my consoling and instead of tasting and savouring it carefully, you just pick it up and gnaw it to pieces." He would not be outdone in that department, not even by his captain. The small, hearty laugh they shared reminded them why they stuck together, despite their arguments and disagreements.
"A girl's gotta eat, Raf. Need that strength to fight of idiots, dead men walking, specters and sea monsters, y'know?" She put away her guns, sitting on her table with her feet up.
"True, but a down-to-earth, reasonable First Mate to steer her clear of death and unwanted attention helps too." Rafen joined her. She slowly turned fervent after hearing that.
"It's gonna kill you one day. You know that, right?" Men like him were sorely needed in this city; she was lucky he preferred women like her. Unfortunately there weren't many, in both regards.
"We all gotta die of something, captain. Might as well be of what we want." Rafen smiled, telling her that this was his choice, not hers. She could accept it or reject it, but it was his. He raised his fist, pointing it to her.
"Until world's ending, remember?" He reminded her.
"Until world's ending." She met his fist with her own.
"Irelia! Slow down, will ya?!" Fizz, even with all his acrobatics and speed, had a hard time catching up to the girl rushing to the slaughter docks. The heard the noises as well, desperate for answers. They would be hard to find, it seemed; when they arrived at the docks, the whole place was scattering, machines being prepped, couriers being given letters and dockhands moving carcasses and remains, clearing a path.
"Whoa… They're busy, all of a sudden." Fizz captained the S.S. Obvious for now, but Irelia paid the yordle little attention, running off towards the nearest person in charge, Fizz following behind with rolling eyes. Luck was with her, it seemed; Gaston, the treasurer Garen and her met two days ago, was at the docks, observing his investments and making sure they went to right places and the right buyers. He had the same look as everyone else however, worried and on edge.
"Excuse me. Sir Gaston." He recognized the Ionian's voice, raising his head from his ledger.
"Ah, the Ionian girl. Good job with the teeth, but you seem one short. Where's- Wait, what is that blue devil doing here?" Gaston spotted Fizz.
"Easy there, cueballhead. I'm with her." Fizz and Gaston spoke to each other with a tone that implied history, but Irelia had no time for it.
"I'm sorry to bring him here, sir Gaston and I'm sorry for interrupting, Fizz. I need to know what is happening here. That sound before… Fizz here told me it was something called a 'Mother Leviathan'. Do you know what that is?" Irelia asked. Hundreds of thoughts passed through her mind, but she had enough control to know where to start.
"A what? That's impossible. Mother Leviathans are gone, haven't been seen in the Isles for at least three hundred years. Do yourself a favor, lassie, and get rid of him. He'll only tell you lies." Gaston pointed a sneering gaze at Fizz, who pointed back with his trident.
"Lies?! What do you know of the ocean's depths, you chum bucket? You can't even breathe underwater." Fizz shot back. Irelia wanted to stop the argument, but a horn sound from the docks did it for her. Another was sounded and another one after that. The entire city was anxious, people moving through the commotion, pockets left unchecked yet unpicked, purses untouched, coin uncounted, weapons holstered and brawling stopped. Irelia, Gaston and Fizz stepped outside, following everyone to Bilgewater's main bay harbour. Finding a high enough spot thanks to Gaston, they observed the fleet, setting sun behind it bathing it in light and the waters in bright orange. Both were blotted out by the shadow of the carcass being trawled behind by every single vessel, the enormous chains weighing them down. The cityfolk stared in awe of the beast, never having witnessed something too big for the slaughter docks before. The blood of the Leviathan poured out from its pierced throat, colouring the bay bright red. The flesh, however, was untouched by decay and rot, only the small predators nibbling on the chunks breaking off from the throat. As the fleet moored, the carcass floated to a still halt, a monument to Bilgewater's way of life.
From her mansion, Sarah and Rafen observed the spectacle, Rafen uttering two words in the appropriately disbelieving tone.
"Holy shit…"
"A Mother Leviathan… I thought they were just bedtime stories…" Sarah couldn't believe it herself. Awe gave way to eagerness and curiosity as she took her guns and tricorne, rushing out from the mansion with Rafen following close behind.
Irelia and Gaston were now pushing their way towards the bay harbour, Fizz expertly weaving through the rooftops of the shanties above them. They reached the harbour gates, already crowding with butchers, merchants, dockhands, mercenaries and even a few captains. Offers were being shouted, tales told and recounted, prices offered and parts demanded for the titanic beast, despite it being just brought in.
"Greed works fast, if nothing else." Irelia commented, making no effort to mask her disgust.
"The prize is bigger than the whole damn city, lassie. Everyone wants a piece of it." Gaston explained, it doing nothing to assuage Irelia. Hanging from one of the signs, Fizz observed the beast; Chomper was never going to believe it, Fizz himself not being sure it was real as well. He knew of the Mother Leviathans, ancient and powerful matrons of the oceans, but he had only ever heard their calls on the calmest of moonlit nights, when the waves were the smoothest. Sometimes they lulled him to sleep and other times they made him anxious with their foreboding ripples. Chomper told him that even the dragon-sharks fear them greatly, warning him to never seek them out.
'Glad I listened to him on that…' Fizz eyed the dead monster, a part of him shaking from the sight. He brushed it off, spotting Irelia in the crowd and jumping from head to head, leaving curses and profanities behind him with a sly smile while cruising toward his friend.
The Titan Jaw docked, the brow fully extended as the survivors came down to the docks, the three Serpent Callers following behind. Even though the sun was setting, the bay was awake now more than ever, small ships hard at work picking the throat, carvers with leather suits descending deep into the opening to cut and dig out whatever looked valuable from the innards and makeshift harvesting rigs being constructed on the outer body. Nobody gave them any orders, but the people of Bilgewater always knew what to do when it came to sea monsters, occasionally even pooling their greed and desires into one single pile with a purpose.
Irelia moved through the flow of the docks, reaching the brow of the Titan Jaw. Searching through faces, her own grew worried as she couldn't spot Garen.
"Looking for your boy, lassie?" Lemmy's gruff voice came from behind her. She turned hopeful, receiving a finger pointed at ship's deck in return. From the deck, Garen descended down the brow, his feet finally glad to be on solid ground. He took in the fresh air and let it out, as if cleaning away all the brine and filth away. He looked around, spotting Lemmy pointing at him… and a very familiar smiling face, now approaching him. Irelia stood in front of him, crest lowered and arms crossed.
"Judging by that dirty leather vest of yours, you managed to make it through the day without throwing yourself in the sea. Consider me impressed, lady Xan." He greeted her with a tease.
"And you're reeking of bile, brine and fish. Consider me revolted, mr. Hero." These sarcasm competitions of theirs were starting to become endearing to her. Her smile, however, turned slightly brighter.
"Welcome back, Garen."
"Good to see you too, Irelia."
At the end of the day, he kept his promise to her. That's all that mattered for them in this moment.
"Yo! Irelia!" A familiar raspy voice called out to her, its little blue owner hopping over to the pair.
"Fizz! Where did you run off to?" Irelia petted the yordle, who just showed his toothy smile. Garen, on the other hand, was dumbfounded by the creature, now turning its eyes to him.
"I'm guessing you're Garen. My name's Fizz." It introduced itself to him, extending a hand. Unsure of what to do next, Garen looked to Irelia, who motioned him to shake the creature's hand.
"I, uh… am pleased to meet you, Fizz." He took the handshake, leaving his hand a little more liquid than before. He couldn't help but stare curiously at the creature.
"Uh… Irelia? Does he usually do that?" Fizz noticed Garen's stare.
"My apologies, Fizz, but I've never seen a creature such as you before." Garen recovered from his trance of curiosity.
"You've never seen a yordle before? Eh, can't say I blame ya. Not many of my kind left and those that are usually don't venture out too far from their homes." Fizz shrugged at Garen's obliviousness, it not being really his fault.
"You're a… yordle? I thought they were just myths…" Garen's interest was sparked yet again.
"Nope. I'm as real as they get." The blue yordle proclaimed proudly, demonstrating his acrobatics by vaulting on his trident.
"So I see… Well, as long as Irelia doesn't mind, we have room for one more… provided you don't cause us trouble, Fizz." Garen proposed, turning serious.
"That's kinda hard to promise, but what's easy to promise is that I'll try." Fizz counter-offered.
Before Garen could agree, shouts were heard from behind them, a small ship docking the bay with people shouting out for Lemmy. The monster hunter left for the ship, his day getting a bit longer.
"You guys wanna go see or do we just go somewhere else?" Fizz asked the duo, who eyed each other with the same question.
"I think I can stay to help a bit more, but if you don't want to…" Garen suggested to Irelia, but she just shrugged.
"Right now, I'm just glad we are back within reach of each other. I'll stick with you." Irelia gave him a nod of approval.
"And what about you, Fizz?" It felt strange to accept the creature so easily, but Irelia's trust in him was all the assurance he needed for now.
"Sounds like it might be fun. Who knows, right?" Fizz kicked his trident upward, grabbing as it came down and stood at the ready with a grin. Garen, decision made and his companions behind it, headed in Lemmy's direction.
The trio reached the vessel, a small commotion already built up. They weaved through the crowd, reaching the center to find Lemmy, Motoi, the two priests and large chest in the middle of it all. The chest was decorated with carvings similar to those of Nagakabouros, its steel seams gleaming in the setting sun. The most peculiar thing on it was the lock; it had a golden base with a circular carving, its edges decorated with seams of ruby. There was no keyhole, only a large X in the middle of it.
"Lemmy? What is this?" Garen asked.
"Dunno. The lads found it the stomach of the Leviathan. Apparently, the fluids couldn't melt it, so we dragged it out here." Lemmy shrugged.
"We can't get it open, though. Tried prying it off, shooting the lock… Nothing worked. Shame… who knows what goodies are inside." One of the sailors recounted their attempts.
"You paylangi and your guns… It's a seal. You need the right key to get it open." Motoi chimed in, shoving everyone aside and inspecting the lock.
"It looks like a simple lock, but with a specific key. Unless it's the right one, it won't open at all." Motoi concluded his analysis, making everyone groan in frustration. Garen and Irelia looked at each other, confusion and question between them. From beneath them, Fizz jumped over to the center, turning the atmosphere wary.
"Fizz… Oh, just what we need. What are you doing here, you fishy rascal? I told you we wouldn't tolerate any-" Lemmy began, but Fizz cut him off.
"Lay off, sharkhead. I just wanna look at it. Maybe I can open it for you guys." Fizz sweetened the proverbial deal. Lemmy looked at Motoi, who nodded, knowing the creature's antics. Fizz looked at the seal carefully for a few moments.
"Well?"
"Hmmmm… Nope, don't know how." Fizz concluded in an anticlimactic fashion, making everyone go back to groaning. Irelia and Garen approached the lock, keeling down to inspect it as well.
"Wait… I recognize the carvings…" Irelia looked at the lines in the gold. The design was familiar to her from somewhere, but she couldn't fathom from where. The X in the middle of the lock jogged her mind enough.
"Hold on a second… T-That's it! Fizz, the thingy! The thing!" Irelia lit up in realization, startling Garen and Fizz.
"Uh, what are you on about?" Fizz asked confused. Irelia pulled out the strange golden disc that Fizz gave her as a thank you gift.
"Where did you find that?" Motoi asked, but Irelia ignored him in her excitement, trying to figure out how to use it on the lock. The X obviously went in the other, but how did the carvings feature into it? Beside her, Garen observed the pattern, detecting a match in the lines.
"Try turning the disc left after you put it in." As curious as he was as to how Irelia got a hold of that little golden plate, he was even more curious as to whether or not it unlocked it. Irelia put the disc with the ruby X on top of the other X and then turned a half-circle to the left. A click was heard, followed by eight more sequential ones, unlocking the entire chest. Everyone looked at the chest and then the pair, who looked at each other with curio, expectance and a little excitement.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Open it. Nagakabouros gave it to you two." Motoi sounded impatient.
"I don't know about that, octopus guy, but I think they should open it together." Fizz chimed in with a smile.
"Hmmm… Well, you found the key." Garen suggested.
"You killed the monster with the chest in it." Irelia countered. It was settled; they would open it together. They pushed the lid, slowly and carefully sliding their fingers underneath it and then shoving it open all the way. Golden light shone out from the chest, the coins blinding the others with their reflections like a lover's caress for their eyes. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, topazes, amethysts and garnets stuck out of the pile, inviting everyone's hands to reach for them. Garen and Irelia, however, were looking at the middle of the chest; a pair of strange gauntlets stood upright, their steel worn but still shining and adorned with spikes on the back. Only Irelia could sense it, but they radiated strange energies. They were meant for much bigger hands than theirs, though.
"Bless my shaved head… Are those what I think they are…?" Lemmy stared in awe. Beside him, Motoi took a closer look, confirming it for himself.
"That they are, Lemmy."
"What? What are these gauntlets?" Garen asked.
"Long before any of us here were born, there lived a great hunter on the Isles. His name was Sterak, a giant of a man, some say imbued with the strength of a leviathan. Others say he was a servant of Nagakabouros, having gained its gifts through constant self-imposed challenges. Whatever the truth surrounding the origin of his might, it was all channelled through a gauntlet he wore, the one on the left. He carried no weapons, only using his own fists, natural strength and that gauntlet." Motoi recounted one of Bilgewater's more famed legends.
"The one on the right is a twin, forged out of components from distant lands, yet with the exact same strength amplifying effect. No monster could stand up against the mighty Sterak, or so it was said." Motoi leaned in to take a closer look.
"What happened to him?" Irelia asked.
"No one knows. Some tales tell of him having left for the north to fight monsters from the beyond. Others say he still prowls the seas in search of worthy foes. And some tales tell he met his end in time's embrace, having defeated all he could defeat." Motoi inspected the gauntlets, nodding to himself and to the others.
"I don't believe it… Sterak's Gage…" Lemmy spoke the name almost in reverence. For someone like him to revere something spoke volumes about the prize they just discovered.
"Indeed." Motoi reached out to touch the gauntlet, but a strange force prevented him from making contact, as if the gauntlet itself refused him.
"It's… not letting you touch it." Lemmy commented, but Motoi ignored him, trying to connect the pieces.
"You there. Ionian girl."
"How did you know I was from-"
"Where did you find the key?" Motoi was more insistent this time around.
"Fizz helped me find. It was inside a dragon-shark's intestines." Irelia recounted how the key came into her possession. Fizz just nodded to confirm the tale.
"And you, boy. I saw you on top of the Mother Leviathan. You played the crucial role in bringing it down…" Motoi connected the pieces together.
"I see… so it shall be, then. You two." He pointed to Garen and Irelia.
"You slew the monster that held the chest while you found the key to unlocking it. The gauntlets did not let me touch them because they aren't rightfully mine. Sterak's Fists… now belong to you two." Motoi proclaimed. Everyone murmured among each other while Garen and Irelia looked at each other and then their 'prize', unsure of whether or not they should claim it. Garen never put much trust in magic, especially if it involved his personal gear and protection and the gauntlets were clearly magical in nature. Irelia didn't like the looks of them, heavy and encumbering to a dancer.
"I don't know…" Garen started.
"Yeah, me neither." Irelia finished.
"The sea gave you these, you fetchers. You have more than earned them. Take them out and be done with it, otherwise they'll just wash away somewhere else and who knows how long it's gonna take to find them again. It's not like you two have any gear of real value, anyway." Lemmy 'encouraged' them to take the gauntlets, with murmurs of approval from the crew backing him. Irelia took offense to her crest being 'of little value', but let it slide; it appeared that claiming spoils wasn't just for the greedy in Bilgewater. Did their god truly gift them or was it all a giant coincidence? It seemed too strange, the reveal that there are forces of truth and just earning in a place like this. Garen simply shrugged, not too eager to anger his employers or their religious people and then dealing with their repercussions, the former out of necessity and the latter out of annoyance.
"Very well. Irelia, which one do you want, the left or the right?" He asked.
"Either's fine with me. You should take the left one, seeing as how you're right-hand dominant. It could serve as a shield of a sort and keep your good hand free, unless you want the other one." Irelia suggested. He would be taking the original gauntlet, something he wasn't too comfortable with. The more ancient power was, the greater its influence. Still, he could discard it whenever he wanted… or so he hoped.
"Right, then. I'll grab the left, you take the right."
"After you."
"No. Together." He spoke, an affirmation to both their plights and her feelings; if they would make it through Bilgewater, they would do so together.
"Got it." Her smile acknowledged it.
They took out the gauntlets at the same time, undeterred by the same force that pushed Motoi away. Moving them to their respective hands, they shared a look before putting them on. They felt nothing change.
"Strange… I don't feel different. Are you sure the legend-" Garen began, but the gauntlet began glowing a dim red light. The metal slowly began shifting, forming properly and comfortably around his arm. Irelia's gauntlet did the same, taking on a lithe form, the spikes transforming into sharpened scales and the weight slowly reducing itself. Garen was ready to rip it off, but it settled.
"Uh… do the stories say they can do that?" Irelia asked, unsure of what to make of what just happened. Just then, both of them felt a surge of power through their bodies, strengthening their fortitude as well as their strength.
"Whoa!"
"Yeah, that was… something else." Garen commented. He didn't trust magical artifacts, but he couldn't deny the gauntlet's effectiveness, especially the feeling of being able to take on an entire army, shatter a mountain or punch a dragon in the face. He reeled it in, reason breaking through the power-drunk outpouring and telling him that the might wasn't his but the gauntlet's.
"I feel… like a goddess. I mean, I know I'm not one, but still…" Irelia, on the other hand, was more sensitive to the effects. She still managed to take control of it, but it still gave Garen an uneasy feeling. She noticed it too, judging by the worried expression and light embarrassed blush.
"I'm sorry. I'm fine, it was just startling." She reassured him, Garen seeing the control in her eyes and nodding in understanding.
"Welp, now I have another story for Chomper. You two still staying here? How about we go find some other artifacts? I know this place just off the southern coast-" Fizz began, but Irelia stopped him with a pat on his head.
"We appreciate it, Fizz, but one treasure of legends is enough for me for one day… or ever."
"For me as well. That being said, captain Lemmy, I assume I am relieved?" Garen asked.
"Aye, laddie. In fact, as soon as I'm done here, I'll get Gaston and we'll go over your debts. Beast this big is bound to bring in more for everybody and you did better than most. See you later, you two." Lemmy bid them farewell as the duo, now with a blue yordle in toll, headed back to the Gurgling Gator.
"Now then… you and me have some alone time, darling. Let's see what else you're hiding." Lemmy turned to the Leviathan's corpse. Before he could return to work, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Lemmy, a word?" Motoi requested. The old Caller wore a serious expression, something that Lemmy knew from experience couldn't be ignored. They went over to the dockmaster's cabin, a quaint hovel decorated with trophies, a table with maps of the Serpent Isles strewn across and liquor cabinet, which no person in power would be caught dead without.
"What's this about then, Motoi?"
"Those two… where did they come from? Demacia and Ionia are on the opposite sides of the world. How did those two end up here together?" Motoi wasted no time getting to the point.
"Funny story, actually. They're escapees from Noxus, by which they were captured. Apparently, they were on death row, but broke free during their execution and fought their way through Noxus Prime, stowing away on one of our ships and ending up here." Lemmy recounted the duo's story and arrival in Bilgewater.
"They escaped Noxus… well, that's something…" Though he didn't look or sound it, Lemmy could tell Motoi was impressed.
"What's it you, though? Is this about Sterak's Fists?"
"More than that, old friend. I didn't tell you, but when I first saw the boy, I felt something shift in the winds. When he climbed up on the Mother Leviathan, fearlessly engaging it, I knew right then and there that he was someone of great importance. Very few of those kinds of people left on the Isles… and then there's the girl. She befriended a yordle without effort, and not just any yordle, but the Tidal Trickster himself. She has strange mind powers, at least over her crest, and has a peculiar aura on her, one of unyielding will. They're special, Lemmy. I know it." He had a look of purpose on his face.
"What are you planning, Motoi?" Lemmy asked with uncertainty; a purposeful look in a Caller's face was a coin flip as it would either be boon or curse for those caught in it.
"… Illaoi needs to be told of them."
A Mother Leviathan, a homeless yordle, a treasure of a great hunter and now the Kraken Priestess herself. It seemed Nagakabouros was only starting to test the Demacian soldier and the Ionian dancer.
