the matron is deathless.

her name was not emilie leblanc when she was born. the kindred do not care for the truth of your names, for all names fade within their time. but they know, and remember, this one's original name. how she shed her skin and became a different person by defying her fate.

the lives the hunted lead are their lives. though the kindred provide judgement, they do not hold sway over the affairs one engages with before they must meet them. the world is a big place - larger than it used to be.

but the matron defied fate. she became a different woman. a different ruler. what started as a second chance at a life she wanted became a political empire of new lies, new powers, new faces. emilie leblanc fled her grave when she fled the old kingdoms.

the lamb clenches her bow. the wolf breathes audibly.

the heel of noxus is a stiletto. it is black, it is four inches tall. empires and their failures do not shock the avatars of death. but the notches in the arrows keep missing the trickster woman. she is far above them on her golden throne -

is she a spirit?!

were she, she would still fall limp.

- yet not beyond their cold, cold, cold grasp.

their masks stare at the matron in her dreams. they speak in unison. the taunting of the wolf, and the truth of the lamb. the matron is a coward! the black rose is wilting. she will not escape us any longer!

classic misdirection. looks can be deceiving. would i lie?

emilie leblanc wakes every day to a bed of roses, entangled with arrowheads. she will evade the trail of death once more.