A normal quiet dinner that Swain wanted was not what he got. Calling the atmosphere "tense" would be an understatement. He looked at his plate which was filled with various meats and vegetables made by a local cook who everyone praised as amazing. He could see the appeal, or rather taste it. That taste however soured quickly as he looked up at Lux and Garen, who were arranged to sit alongside each other. Due to recent events however, Garen asked to be moved. The quick glances he gave her filled with such hatred that it surprised even Swain. He knew Garen hated mages, and the fact that his sister is one, must be hard to finally realise, but it was inevitable for him to know, early or not. Swain was the only one who noticed these hateful glances as everyone else were pretending to be too preoccupied with their food to avoid any conversation.
Swain looked over at Lux who looked like she might burst into tears any moment. He would expect that from a person who was nearly assassinated, but he knows it isn't because of that. In fact he doubted she even cared about that anymore. He realised that her nightmare just became reality, yet it was only a fear because of the flaws of Demacia. For a nation that loves justice, they never give their people any chance.
Swain shook his head to clear his thoughts, he put his hands on the table. He rose and looked at a servant. He gestured the servant to take care of his plate as he turned around. He walked straight out the great hall and into a thin corridor. A soldier with a large helmet stood there as if wanting to talk to him. Swain turned to face him. The helmet covered his face which always makes Swain reluctant. The soldier handed Swain a rolled up letter. Swain opened it to see the results of the interrogation of Lux's attacker. He scanned the report for anything interesting. Martin was hired by a minor Demacian noble who was a known rival of the Crownguards. Demacian politics, they deny it but it's just as cutthroat as Noxian diplomacy, only Noxians are more open about their murders.
Swain retired to his room, giving the order that the march to the Immortal Bastion will continue at dawn. He had a lot to think about, most important of all the fact that Lux was underestimated by him. She is more thank capable to defend herself, only problem is her confidence. She seems to have improved it, but now that Garen knows, it might have destroyed any progress she made. He collapsed into a chair and tapped his finger on a table. The rhythmic tapping slowly allowed him to drift into a deep sleep.
Swain slowly awoke to notice something was wrong. He was in the Immortal Bastion for one, and the sky seemed to have torn, having turned from blue to purple. He rushed out to a balcony to see the city burning. He looked down to see fighting in the streets, he recognised the distinctive armour of Demacians and Noxians. He looked closer and realised that the Noxians aren't fighting the Demacians, rather that the two are fighting some kinds of monsters. Swain backed away from the balcony. He rushed towards the door when he sensed something in the room with him. He backed into the centre of the room.
"You know you want me"
Swain snapped his head around to see the source of the voice, but couldn't.
Suddenly he felt a strange spell be cast on him.
"How about a kiss?"
Suddenly a sharp spike flew right in front his face. He barely dodged it. Now the attacker was visible. He faced the figure, a very beautiful woman, a bit too much so. Then the realisation his him.
"A demon?" he whispered, the figure only smiled. She launched a spike at him which was driven through his chest. Swain let out a roar of pain. He grunted as the figure launched more spikes from the ground. They all impaled him and he fell to the ground. The figure slowly walked over and sat down on his chest. She leaned in and kissed him. Then suddenly she turned pure black and cut Swain in two.
Swain jolted out of the chair he fell asleep in. He held his chest as if he was stabbed. He breathed heavily, then looked out the window. He was still in the village to his relief. He slowly gathered his thoughts and rose.
"A dream, has to be." he then looked at a shadowy corner of the room. "Or a warning."