Chapter Nine: The Keep
Luxanna had fixed the bed and folded the blanket by the bedside if she would ever need it again. Thoughts the night before began to linger in her mind. All she had remembered was the fireplace, the vermillion glow, its hot aura, and the sparks that came with a crack as they jumped aimlessly out the fireplace's steel guard. After it, was only a great urge to close her eyes and rest. Peculiar of her, she thought, as she had never slept with her elbow on a table. To sit behind a table usually meant that she was part of something, and that is something she could not just slumber on, especially not beside a Noxian.
That was not to think of right now. Lux sighed and went on to fix whatever little detail she could fix in her room, from the folds of the bed sheet, to her items in the closet, and to her own clothes. Her reconnaissance gear still hung inside the large closet, with the boots stowed away to the side. Her eyes stayed on the boots. She remembered a certain item.
She leaned, picked up the right boot, and checked its back side. It was not there. She had a slight hope that it was. It was ripped out of its socket as it should have. Her last resort, a straight edged dagger, was now a ghost in her sight as she traced its empty space. She placed it back beside the left boot. She sighed. It seems that the hope of escape grew farther and farther.
Lux had closed the closet doors. She turned back to her bed, but as she did so, she had caught the sight of herself by the vanity mirror. She walked to its front.
Her face met its reflection. Blue eyes watched back, brightened to the sunlight, glistening back at her. She always smiled at the sight of herself along the sunlight, that she had awakened to a beautiful day back in her... Home... The vibrancy of her smile fainted, retreating the edges of her lips, the light of her eyes fading. It was only a smile she did at home. All the more did it weaken when the natural urge to call for her own housemaids and that butler, Bavis, stopped in her throat. No longer in Demacia... It had been a phrase that repeated in her head since she had first stepped into the streets of Noxus, disguised in a shawl. It rang too differently in Darius's words.
It had to leave her head. These thoughts of Demacia and her room.
Loose strands of her hair escaped the thin band that held her ponytail in place, hanging down her temples then past her chin. A simple tie of her hair... She had never seen herself with it for more than a day, and only now did she realize it. Lux sighed. Her hair was too much a mess. She had to let loose the string— her hair falling down her face suit— pull her hair up once again, then look for a comb.
She searched the vanity's drawers. And there, she found a more suitable elastic tying string to tie her hair, and even an old wooden comb. Apart from them, there were a pincushion with needles stuck inside, rolls of fabric, and small square handkerchiefs. Her brows lowered at the sight of these items, then to the vanity, to the closet, then to the whole room. Why did Darius need another room if he lived alone? For guests? She wondered. Darius did not seem to be one to have guests to sleep in his house.
It was best not to ask, she presumed. Perhaps another time when it is most appropriate.
She continued on to grooming herself, combing from the sides of her hair, held in place by her other hand.
As she pulled the comb up and let it down to her hair, footsteps thudded and the door opened. Lux turned her head to the door and there Darius entered, his used tunic hanging by his naked shoulder. The grip of morning remained in his eyes and sweat filming his fair skin gleamed faintly to the sunlight from the nearest window. The sight of him almost shocked her, since he had not knocked.
"Did I surprise you?" The morning dryness creaked through his frowned tone, absent of any greeting.
Her eyes met his with a moment's confusion. A stutter nearly came through her words. "No, my lord."
He looked to the window, to the closet, then to her bed. She noticed that he was wary of something. When he seemed to be assured, he looked back to her.
"Cook our breakfast and be swift. We have to leave again today."
Lux nodded. Their looks broke and Darius left the room.
She returned to the mirror and to combing her hair. Lux had noticed it now. He was checking if the room had changed, if she had attempted escape. Perhaps, she thought, she had surprised Darius more than he surprised her when he saw that not a single thing was scratched.
III
Lux had come downstairs as Darius was nearing the end of his morning exercise routine. The table the night before was nowhere to be found.
She had cooked breakfast with a shirtless Darius watching her half-way through. It felt almost as if it was yesterday, only that this time, they did not speak to each other.
Darius was remembering that night, that action and thought out-of-place that marked it. She was his servant, a subordinate. He looked to her, that air of concentration covering her face, her eyes— glowing to the bright orange of the cooking fire—unmoving to the task at hand. She was Demacian, yet she was still obligation, and he could not forget, the means of humiliation to her brother. She was Demacian, and he was a Noxian, and that did not leave both of them.
She had finished cooking and they ate. Still, the silence went on, and none seemed to be discomforted by it. Darius had nothing to say, and had been busying himself with his own concerns for the rest of the day.
Lux had been quiet. Too quiet. Darius let his eyes up to her, past the dying cooking fire. She was silent as she ate, her head bowing down. He had let his eyes stay.
Strange Demacian. He had never thought of a Crownguard to follow him with little objection. She acted unlike her people yet still carried their aura that differed them from the Noxians. He knew she thought the same to him. He wanted to question it, but he pulled back his words. They were not important. It was for another time. There was no need to dwell on that anymore. He had other things to have in his mind, and so, Darius let his eyes away.
"I don't understand." She began. He returned his look to her. "Why?" She looked up to him, his eyes already there to meet hers. The cooking fire, now a small ember, cracked its sparks as it faded into ash.
There was quiet. Darius did not respond.
"Am I not a prisoner, my lord? Aren't I a means to bring shame to my family, to my brother?"
His brows lowered. "Are you doubting it?"
"Is it not hard to? This food, these clothes, this shelter, this security... my lord, are you not a Noxian and am I not a Demacian? If there is something to be done to me, why do you prolong it?"
"You risk asking me such question. Do you trust me not to harm you for it?" A faint smile rose from him.
Her head backed and her lips clenched. "And will you harm me for it, my lord?"
His mouth opened, his reply almost instant, but nothing came out. And thus, their expressions switched for one moment. Darius let his eyes away back to his food pot and continued on.
"I do not have to explain my motives to you." Her expression retreated as he returned a look to her. "And you do not have to question them."
It came silently, and when she had pulled in a light sigh along with her drifting eyes, he knew she had understood.
"I apologize, my lord." She said, words almost under her breath. Darius paid it no attention.
III
They ate the rest of the breakfast in silence with only the dying flame to weakly interrupt the quiet. The flame had turned to ash when they were done eating.
Darius placed his empty pot beside him and then stood. "Wash quickly." He said before leaving the kitchen.
Lux puffed. It seems her master isn't one to explain. Never mind that, she thought, the Noxians were not ones to explain everything anyway. She stood up and began work with the used pots. She took both of them and sat by the wooden water bucket near a drain by the kitchen corner.
Then it came to her again, a numb fire wanting to push out of her hands, wanting to manipulate and get the task done tenfold faster. It would always be there, she imagined, there to frustrate her, to remind her of silence. Katarina said she would have to take those experimental anti-magic capsules regularly, but who is going to administer it? Could she possibly fake the swallowing? She remembered the weight of Katarina's knees upon her chest and forceful push of her hand.
There was little hope for what she had in mind. She pushed it away, that thought of having her magic back. She would have no way to defend herself or last inside and outside of Noxus without it. While she had no way to have her magic back, there was only one thing that could guarantee her security. She huffed at that thought.
Darius.
Her safety clung at a Noxian's will, along with everything else. She had fallen into the same bitter conclusion that ran unspoken the day before: She had to obey if she wanted to be unharmed.
The water was wet on the skin of her hands, the palms gripping the edge of a clay pot. She shook her head away from her thinking. 'I might as well finish this if I want to stay untouched' she thought with an uneven smile.
When she had finished cleaning the pots, Luxanna walked to exit the kitchen, but stopped when she had almost bumped into Darius, now wearing a short-sleeved tunic no simpler than the one he wore yesterday. Lux took a step back and tried not to let his eyes meet hers.
"Change your clothes and wear your boots." Darius said. "We will be going to the High Command."
Her brows tightened at the order. It surprised her. "My lord, I don't think I should change."
"We will be going to the Tylme soon after. Unless you wish to wear the same dirty clothes, you would have to change."
Her chest clenched. She remembered now, and as she did, she had glanced up to him. It was as if what had strike her didn't so much as touch him. "I see... Excuse me, my lord." She moved on past him.
"Be swift." Darius said as she went on upstairs. There was no reply. And when the confusion of her eyes finally struck him, the edge of his constant frown lit into an unnoticed smirk.
III
Darius sat by the stool near the fireplace, and he took the time to wear hide boots which he had tucked the ends of his leggings inside. The stairs thudded, and Darius looked up. Luxanna had changed from a green tunic to a sleeveless beige one of the same fabric as the last. Her loose leggings were tucked inside her own boots, heavy yet fitting.
Darius stood. He was finished preparing and his servant appeared the same. Even her hair had been fixed as to not appear with loose ends.
She had arrived to the floor, standing by the first step, awaiting for his word. To Darius, she had appeared too far away from an average servant, even farther from when he had first saw her. It was as if looking at someone new, someone different. That Demacian spy, that Crownguard in full gear, now dressed closer to a Noxian lower-class.
The lines of her figure and her appearance, delicate and with youth, had not left. What was first a brief scan of her attire, had began a growing stare to her entirety. He was becoming aware of it.
"Is something wrong, my lord?"
Darius met her eyes. Though she had dressed and dressed differently, they had kept that same Demacian gleam. "Anna. Don't forget."
There was a moment's pause. "Yes, my lord."
His look had not left, and when the quiet had gone by too long, she had glanced up to him, wondering. He wanted to say something, but it could not form, and the words were lost to the bottom of his throat. Never mind it.
Darius opened the door, and the light and noises of the outside had entered. "Come," he said "and stay close." He stepped outside, and Lux followed, closing the door behind her.
III
Noxian middle-class walked about, children playing by in mock battles, carriages with creaking wheels and horses that clopped their hooves against the cobblestone. Noxian women with their faces behind their large fans spoke and gossiped. Armed guards could be seen here and there, some patrolling with mounted officers, others staying still by the now unlit street lamps. The sunlight had blued the sky, and heated and yellowed all that was not in the shadow of the Noxian houses. Conversations flew about the morning air, sometimes filled with laughter of men and children, and giggles of women.
They had began to walk, and Lux stayed close enough to Darius, beside him yet slightly behind. Her boots were heavy on the street stone and her eyes wandered about looking at others. She would catch some looking back at them, others whispering to one another as they looked to her and Darius. Some had eyes that widened in a clear surprise, others had playful malice beneath them. It was no different from yesterday, and she guessed that she would have to begin tolerating all of it each moment that she would have to accompany him.
No matter how many times she would walk by these streets, she knew that her presence remained a stranger to them, like an acquaintance with only his name to be known and nothing else. These Noxians, lively, boastful and full of energy, were not her people, and these buildings did not glimmer in the sun's brilliance. Though she knew the streets perfectly, she would feel lost somehow. But, with these new clothes, this new tie of her hair, and this tall, Noxian general beside her, something about it all began to shift.
She looked around her, to the houses, to the people, the guards, and the street itself. She had always walked with careful footsteps by them knowing well that she was a Demacian in disguise. But with her bare face showing and with no magic to mask any of her, the scene had changed before her. She was no longer merely among them. She was living in their culture, the culture of her enemy, the same one that she had read about time and again. It was something she had to become used to: to be seen and heard in this city.
As they moved on street by street, she could feel the land beneath them incline and rise, pointing upwards, and when they had turned to the next street, she was standing by the end of a way that began to slant up. Sidewalks rose into stairs and the houses were built taller and thinner. She knew of this street, and she had taken it in many different ways and guises.
She looked upward, the tall houses no longer obstructing her view. There, above them to a distance, stood the black walls and great bridging spires of the High Command, its cut granite stones carved from the very base of the Great Skull, clinging to the skull's crown. At its very top, a great citadel by the sky with its towers pointing and overlooking all of the land: the Raven's Keep, where she had been brought after her capture. She could faintly hear one call, a shrill, loud, and screeching Dire Raven's call echoing out far away.
"Servant," Darius had turned head to her. She had not noticed that her pace had slowed. With a nod of his head towards the road, she understood and followed.
All the carriages seemed to come here, she noticed. Normally, one or two carriages would be seen by some streets in the districts below the Great Skull, but near the High District, they would be common with others even appearing to be convoys. Three passed by them, all of different makes and horses, with their Noxian guards escorting each side
Ahead, there waited one of the many checkpoints that secured passage to each district. The checkpoint stood, a thick stone wall with steel reinforcements from its base up to its parapets. By its center, an opened iron gate; on each side of it, there were covered battlements atop square-shaped stone towers with each having entrances underneath them that served for individual passage; people entered the district through the right entrance, and exited it through the left. The dark-green Noxian banners hung from each tower garrisoned by armed Noxians. The carriages stopped one by one to be inspected, and Lux and Darius moved on to the right sidewalk.
They approached the right-side entrance, two guards like clothed metal sculptures on each side of the gateway. "Stay close." Darius said before they came nearer. Luxanna gave an unnoticed light nod as she looked up to the green Noxian banner above the entrance before looking down in front of her.
Two crooked poleaxe blades cross one another at the entrance, held firm by the guards in uniform half-armor with dark-green surcoats. They were Elites, veterans of the field, their faces black under the shadows of their helmet visors. She had read of them and their military culture. Though they were more experienced with some even owning houses in the High District, the lowly duty of guard work reminded them that rank would never mean an ease of discomfort.
Darius stopped by the elites, and, in unison, they uncrossed their weapons, holding them close to their sides, and raised their free fists to their chest, almost as if beating them. Their heads snapped towards Darius. "Forever strong!" They said, voices hoarse and hardened by shouting.
Darius returned their gesture at the same snap. "Never weak." He let his arm down and the soldiers did the same.
A grip to her wrist. Luxanna nearly gasped in the sudden warmth and clutch of Darius's hand. She turned her head up to him. He was looking ahead, as if nothing had been done. His pace quickened, and Lux walked faster to keep up. She kept beside him, passing by the guards who had returned to their statue-like postures. The feeling of their presence faded from her sides. They had entered, going through a dark interior.
A step outside into the light. Darius had let go of her wrist.
A great boulevard inclined upwards as it rose higher into the steepness of the Great Skull. As they walked out, Luxanna glanced to her left past the stone fences that guarded the cliffside. Her eyes stayed. A glance became a gaze into the far horizon. The lush farmlands of varying crops blanketed the nearby city outskirts, fading away to the forests surrounding the wetlands of Noxus. Great clear shimmering rivers veined through the area all-around, from the farmlands and villages that drew fresh water, and the blanketing forests. The rivers granted life to both the wild, the trees, and the people that lived near them.
To the very distance, where the wetlands extended out, the Howling Marsh crept, the leaves of its own trees darkening as the wetlands faded into thick marshlands. The rivers would travel out from their great mother, the Serpentine River, then through the marshes and to the surrounding lands of Noxus where they would scatter like the heads of a great hydra. And, even farther, nearing the very line of the horizon, where a part of the mountain chains that walled Runeterra stood, and between one valley, a large pass, shined a golden beam like a distant twinkling star in daylight. The glistening white marble and its gleam... Demacia. Home. Lux's pace slowed, the sight holding her; she wanted to stay still and watch.
"Servant," Darius's words surfaced. "Are you listening?" He had stopped and turned to look at her. Lux whipped her head to him, with eyes widening.
"Yes, my lord?"
"I urge you not to speak to others unless told. They would make mention of you and attempt to speak to you, but if you are to reply, I shall be the one to tell you. And, remain at my side unless I say otherwise."
She had not answered for one moment. Taking orders from a Noxian did not do well to transitioning from looking back at the distant image of her home and remembering it. Her eyes wandered before they stopped at Darius. She nodded. "Yes, lord."
"Good, come and stay beside me." And he turned and moved on.
Lux looked around her. These were the lower hunting grounds of her missions. These great houses to her right that clung unto the steeping cliffs of the Great Skull as it rose to its pinnacle. They extended inward into lairs of the wealthy class, where the true size of their accommodation would be revealed, and it was thus that one would marvel at the architecture that the Noxians have crafted from the very Skull. Stairs rose to each house, and from some sidewalks where one edge would be rise too sharply. All houses had great balconies, and even greater doors with their own guards that carried the sigils of each house owner on the faces of their weapons and surcoats.
And, there were the wealthy Noxians, some walking alone, others accompanied by their guards and servants, their differing perfumes cutting in the air. The ones who walked alone tend to be the younger ones; other than them, there were the servants ordered to buy or fetch something.
There were the youth in robed uniform, young Noxians studying in academies rather than playing or surviving in the streets, clumped together in groups. And there were the adults, Noxian men and women in dresses and outfits weaved from expensive light fabrics. There were the carriages and more coming in from the checkpoint from time to time. The conversations here were more hushed, quieter, and more refined but with the same Noxian spirit, yet that did not stop others to laugh and call among each other from across the boulevard. There were even some of the loud conversations that would sometimes break out. The only ones who had the truly quiet exchanges were the servants and guards on patrol.
Soon, they approached a great plateau that edged out of the Skull.
Upon it, a plaza with a statue standing upright at its center. It would be replaced time and again with every new Grand General, and thus, it was Swain in gray marble glistening in the sunlight with him standing upon a solid silver base. He held onto the head of a golden replica of his scepter with both hands, its tip pushing against the ground. His head bowed down with a thoughtful stare to all who would stand before the statue, and on his back, rose black raven wings of forged steel in luster, caught in a still figure of it stretching wide open. There was something eerie that disturbed her whenever she walks by that statue, and Luxanna had felt it again when she looked at it. Darius gave only a glance, before turning to the right of the statue.
Stores lined the side of the plaza. This very plaza replaced the common market, as every store sold a specific category of goods and each offered high-quality versions of average market goods. Servants would flock certain stores, usually the ones that sold necessities, while the rich folk went on into specialty shops, services, barbers, restaurants, and arsenal stores. A stranger feeling it was, that her existence was truly visible in this plaza.
And the amount of the wealthy residents in the higher districts were only partial.
Luxanna had read that only high-ranking officers and lifetime warriors were given a spot to claim in the higher districts, and thus, those wealthy ones that were now among here were the ones serving in the reserve force. The active ones were out in the field. In times of war, these boulevards were empty with only patrolling guards and the servants that were assigned to watch over the households to fill them. In peace— or rather, a noticeable amount of it— a rotation was made between the reserve and active forces. In doing this, every Noxian in arms sees action without having to exert full effort. All those around Luxanna were the reserves, enjoying themselves before they head out for their turn in the rotation.
The looks, the unfamiliarity of everyone to her by Darius's side, they were born at almost every eye that would catch a sight of them. Moments ago in the district before them, Darius had been ignoring them, but now, his head would turn to those who would whisper too close to them as they passed by. Luxanna can only guess what invisible words reached out from him that would cause others to fall silent.
They would pass the occasional plaza all with the same sort of statue only in different poses, through many residential sectors, and with each step higher, the residents and the residences showed more distinction in class and wealth. The carriages were more common, and the facades of the houses became more distinctive, and as Lux looked at them, she recounted the ones that she had entered without invitation. She also caught sight of the faces that she had once cloaked herself in. She smirked at the thought: she had once been in their shoes.
The walls of the High Command came closer and larger, the raven calls shriller and clearer, and as they trailed upwards the Skull, she had seen every side of the great bastion. It was waiting, a looming dark above the bright lives of the wealthy class and all those below them.
III
When they had done another turn, the boulevard's end revealed itself. They have arrived at the entrance.
The citadel's broad towering walls rose high, the blackened granite refusing to glow in the morning light. Armored guards stood and patrolled by every cobblestone around the walls, behind the crenellations, and inside the covered battlements and turrets. The spires of the Raven's Keep pinnacled higher than the fortress complex, and from them, came the echoing cries of the Dire Ravens that perched on wherever their talons could rest. They made their nests on the spires. The green banners of Noxus hung from every wall and building, fluttering to the weak dance of the mountain air. The heat weakened here and the winds that brought the nearing cold of the sky whispered to her skin.
There were no more other houses near the first entrance to the High Command, only an empty boulevard leading to a great reinforced alloywood gate that stretched wide open. Unlit braziers were on each side to keep the exterior guards warm at night, and it was here that the noise of the High District stilled into a quiet.
Darius and Luxanna approached the entrance.
She had been behind every wall and room of this fortress, even the ones that hollowed into the Skull, in different guises and with different objectives in mind. Her eyes wandered at the stone. She knew the secrets beneath them—at least, almost all of them. This place remained a well-known acquaintance that never became her friend, and now it greeted her again, but this time, she was not beneath the brace of a shadow or the skin of another.
III
They have entered a great interior, lit by the light that beamed in through tall glass windows. Sounds echoed in the halls of the High Command from unknown sources.
A clean shine covered the gray-washed floors, yet a roughness textured the walls. The room stretched on each side, large enough to hold a great gathering or even an ancient dragon in his sleep, with golden beams turning blue as it passed by the windows and columns supporting the weight of the stone. Statues of armored men stood by the walls in far intervals, and separate hallways presented themselves. Above them, farther away into the shadow of a concave ceiling, steel arcs clung to the walls, one after another. This same picture met Luxanna the times she would come here, and a strange, emptying feeling came to her when she would stay too long, perhaps caused by the glaring differences that set it apart from the brilliance of the Demacian palace.
Darius moved on, and Lux followed, steps beginning to echo as they entered further. They walked straight, heading for another large entrance at the end of this room. Lux let her head look around. There were banners hanging from the columns, and though it was not evident, there was a second floor right above them, with connecting balconies jutting out of the upper walls; there, dark figures stood by, eyes following them. Lux looked away.
With much walking this great interior, they have arrived at the next entrance.
A throne room, with the same polished floors and walls with an even greater size than that of the interior they had just walked in. She had eavesdropped many conversations here, and passed by without difficulty. Perhaps here grand assemblies could be organized, and a dragon could fly with plenty of ease inside if it were not for the columns which stretched upwards into the ceiling. The windows were larger, granting plenty of greater beams of light into the spacious room, and even some from the ceiling, shafts of light alighting the way to the center aisle which they would walk. On each side of her, standing by the columns, were armored guards, almost no different from statues. Her boots met a carpet, green and soft like fur, which lead itself to the throne. From here, she could hear a familiar cackle and voice echo out from the end of the room.
A figure clad in light, Jericho sat on a throne high-atop a threshold with guards on both the threshold's side. A black halo encircled the back rest of his throne, a blot to the beam shining down to him, its spikes jutting out like short-swords; and, above him to the wall, hung a great banner of Noxus, trimmed with a golden gleam, pointing down to its ruler. A Dire Raven perched by the side of the backrest, staring down on the visitors with its red eyes. His voice came louder to her ears as they neared, and two figures knelt as they listened to him.
"... not have to worry about them. The League of Legends only does so much, though I understand that you have taken measures to hide the nature of your research from prying eyes."
There came an inaudible reply.
"Understandable. And yes, you may go now." His head turned up, and it stayed. "Ah, Darius! Our Zaunite envoys were just leaving." A smile cut into the tone. The two figures stood as Darius and Lux neared. They turned to them. The man on the left, the one who had a bald head, wore a red coat; strangely, his arms were wrapped in white cloth. The other man, a man in violet coat, appeared older than the man next to him; he had a bowler hat.
She did not like the bald man's eyes. They carved into her chest: eyes of pure toxic green that gleamed the nauseous glow of Zaun. White cloth wrapped itself around his lower face, and a bare pale covered his skin. There stayed a difficulty in knowing his expression, as cloth covered his mouth and his eyebrows were long removed. Still, his eyes could not dissolve into the iron that was Darius's countenance which gave him a steady glare. She knew this man, spied of him long ago. His true name was forgotten, and he came with only his own name: Singed.
Singed passed by them without another word, but the man in the violet coat approached Darius. A capsule container gripped in his hand, and, looking into Darius's eyes, gave it to him. Darius looked at the item, pocketed it, and the man was gone, his head bowing down. Lux caught the glimpse of his eyes; glowing violet in the shadow of his hat. Their footsteps echoed away. There were only them, Jericho, and his Dire Raven now.
He donned a green coat, trimmed gold at its edges and by its large collar. His scepter lay beside his throne, and his eyes, calm and steady, always seemed to calculate at the thoughts beneath them. The sculpture of him at the plaza did well to capture his image, for it is here that it breathed and spoke. There were no wings though, but Lux had remembered the painting in her room, and knew well that they were hidden with only his dire raven to remind her of it.
"Well, aren't they strange people? They've always been. That's why we get along so well!" Jericho laughed, and after so, he spoke again. "So, Darius, my right hand, what have you come here for? I see your servant is alive and healthy. Good that you take care of her." He smiled.
"I wish to speak to you in private, Jericho"
An eyebrow went up before his answer came. "Hm, very well. Come, Beatrix." He said as he stood, picking up his scepter. The raven fluttered its wings as it flew to its master's shoulder. The Raven Emperor did not flinch at the sickly talons gripping onto his shoulder.
Swain went down from his threshold, heading towards a right side entrance. Darius followed him and Luxanna did so.
III
She followed them into numerous halls lit by the windows. Their footsteps echo, with Swain sounding a tap of his scepter as he walked on. Beatrix, the raven on his right shoulder, would make a toned-down call at times. As they moved, they conversed.
"So, what it is it that you wish to speak about?" Swain said.
"This concerns the technology that the Zaunites are presenting us."
"And what of it?"
"I wish to voice my thoughts on this matter, but only when we get there."
"You don't have to be afraid, Darius." He smiled. "Le Blanc isn't here today."
"Hmph, I'm not afraid. I'm just being sure. And it does not matter if she is here or not."
"Ah, well, fine then."
Luxanna stayed behind both of them. She found it somehow good that they did not acknowledge her existence for the mean time. She could only let herself observe the halls that they were walking in. She would catch glimpses of servants, but nothing other than that. What presented itself the most were the guards who patrolled by and by, their presence marked by their clattering gear.
They arrived at a two-door entrance. Darius stopped to look at Lux. "Stay here."
She nodded then took a step back. Two guards stood by the sides of the entrance. They opened the doors, with both of them entering, then they closed. Lux waited outside, by a wall between two windows. The guards stood motionless and silent. She leaned against the wall, hands behind her, and, as time went on, she faded downwards until she sat at the floor with her back against the stone. She sighed and bowed her head down.
A twirl of a blade cutting against the air sounded, then caught by a hand, and again it twirled, and again it was caught. This would repeat when a feminine voice spoke.
"It's boring, isn't it?"
Lux caught feet at the corner of her eye. She looked up. Katarina.
"All the time with nothing to do..." She chuckled as she twirled another blade in the air. "Why are you wasting it?"
Luxanna stood, eyes staying on her. How could she have come so near without her noticing? Her voice didn't arrive so well in her ears. The last time she had heard it, it was when she was being pushed down to the ground and fed the silence pills against her will. "I was ordered to stand by."
"Huh, something your brother would say..."
"And why are you here?"
"I'm here for you, dummy." Her eyes met Lux. Green, with a sharp razor to them under the locks of her red hair. Past the shadow of her hair, there remained her scar, trailing down her left eye. "Come with me, I'll show you something." She got off the wall, and moved on, twirling her blade still.
"But-"
"Darius told me to entertain you, so be my guest and follow me."
Lux sighed once again. She did not feel that she would get used to following Noxians.
III
They arrived at a wide open court.
Shadow covered the pavement on the sides of the court, fading away into sunlight at the open areas. Sand filled the open ground under the sun and the castle garrison trained in these areas, their shouts and colliding wood and blunted weapons reverberating. Around six pairs trained currently, fighting themselves in mock melee.
"Hah! I got you!... C'mere!... Damn you!... Let's see what you've got!..." The words echoed, amongst the cacophonous cries.
Luxanna and Katarina stayed at one corner, looking out. "Welcome to the proving grounds." She said
Luxanna stared at the demonstrations of physical might and skill, so showed by topless men sweating under the sun. "Am I going to...?"
"Yes, we'll train here. Isn't it fun? Come."
They moved on to a booth, passing by benches where some men sat to rest. Katarina approached the booth window. "Three blunted short swords, please." It arrived to her without a word, pouring down the booth hole to a wooden desk. "There we go... Go ahead, grab one."
"We're practicing... with metal?"
"Well, it's blunted. What's there to fear?"
"I'm not sure about this. I'm not well with the use of the sword."
She rolled her eyes. "And that is why I'm here to teach you. You don't need talent to practice."
Teach me? Why Katarina of all the people? Then she remembered her conversation with Darius the day before: 'I know little on how to fight with a blade'... 'I will keep that in mind...'
With a sigh, Lux took the sword. Her hand gripped at the comfort of the leather handle as the unease of the sword's weight pulled her arm down. Straight steel made the blade, with its hilt a simple strip along with a blunted pommel at the end of the handle. A practice sword made with conventional means, and it was all she would need for now. She was more accustomed to her steel baton, and she had only ever used a sword in her long ago training days and for only a very short time.
Katarina took her own blades, taking them and twirling them like toys. Such skill and showiness reminded Lux of Draven and his own axes. Katarina let a smirk stay on her face when she looked at Lux. She gestured her head towards the court, and she moved on with Lux following her.
She felt the sun come down against her scalp and her entire body. It wasn't so hot with the cold at this altitude to contest for it, yet it stung lightly.
"So, Luxanna, ever held another blade before?" Katarina moved in to the front of her, standing with both her blades pointing down. Hearing her name seemed a relief from the constant calls of 'servant'.
"Yes, once." She replied, her blade pointing up.
"Alright then. Show me your stance."
Stance? Oh, right... She spread her legs apart, left foot in front of her right, knees bent slightly, and weapon outward to Katarina.
She chuckled at her. "Can you balance yourself?"
Her brows tightened. "I don't know."
"Try attacking."
"How?"
"I don't know, slash left and right, imagine striking at someone you really hate."
The latter part was difficult, but it came easy as she imagined Draven's face. She slashed the blade diagonally across, the metal humming as it cut through the air and image of the arrogant Noxian. She continued on forward, slashing at different directions, the weight of the sword pulling her. At every strike, without her knowing it, her grip loosened and her feet began to fumble as she moved forward. It was inevitable that she would then trip. She let out a short scream as her balance left her to the air, and her hands stretched out in front of her to break her fall.
Her chin hit the ground, the sand escaping her. Her blade arrived to the ground with a thud. The pain was temporary, but Katarina's fluid laughter lengthened it. Luxanna pulled herself up along with her blade, dusting the sand off with her free hand. The grainy texture of fine sand covered her limbs and part of her face. It took some time to pat them off.
When Katarina stopped laughing, she finally spoke. "Your brother must be really proud."
Luxanna gave a glare. Mockery wasn't something she was so familiar with.
Just before she could reply, Katarina walked up to her. "You see, Luxanna, the blade isn't just a tool." She came behind her and held the wrist of that hand that held her blade. Her sudden touch surprised Lux. "It's an extension, a part of you. You should feel every vibration and every part of the metal like it's another hand." She moved her arm, up and down. "Do you feel it?"
"I... I guess."
"Now, Luxan— Your name is a mouthful sometimes, can I call you something else?"
It choked in her throat. "Uh, well, Anna will do."
"Anna... Nice, simple name... Right, Anna, let's get to your stance. It's very important that you don't lose balance in a fight or you're as good as dead."
"Okay, that's... nice to hear."
"So, we have to separate the legs, and they've got to be firm." Katarina let go of her for a moment and went on in front of her. "Like this." She made her stance, with her left leg pointing outward, her left arm forward and right close to her shoulder.
"It seems too open."
"That's the point, dummy. It's got to be open. We women don't waste time defending every moment a sword strike comes towards us. We're too quick for that. You've got to strike when he stretches out his arms." She thrust her right sword forward into the air, the blade cutting into empty space. "See how swift that was? "
Lux nodded her head.
"Now, copy me." She returned to her stance.
Lux mimicked it, glancing at her to see if her own stance is right. In a short while, she was able to copy her stance with the only difference being the lack of another sword.
"Why do you get two swords?" Lux said.
"Because I'm good enough for it. It takes a lot of skill to use this without screwing up, and besides, when you're in a real life situation, you'll encounter more than one blade. And you're still terrible so one is enough."
She frowned. "How frank."
"I know. So let's start the real practicing. You've got to learn the basics before you can do anything impressive."
AN: Ugh... It's been so long... I was sick and busy at the same time. Oh well, irregular updates.
So here, I've decided that there should be some sneaky stuff going about, and that Katarina and Lux won't be so much as enemies all the time. And I've got one really tense Darius-Lux scene in mind, but it will come in the future. If there seems to be a mistake, please tell me.
And thank you to those who have followed! The story's hit 100 followers. I didn't think it would get this far but you guys made it possible! It's all thanks to you!
Thank you again for your patience, and thanks a lot to those who reviewed, you guys are awesome!
Fave, follow, and review if you want to. Constructive criticism is good, flames nope. See you on the next one!