Chapter 12

The sound of sandaled feet echoed in the corridor. Riven was a few minutes early, but her training made it almost impossible for her to be late to anything. At least, not when it had a specific time assigned to it. It was out of habit more than anything, and she knew it. She carried her sword with her, holding it firmly in her grasp. She really needed to buy a sheath for it. Riven slowly made her way about the Noxian Quarters, making sure that none of the other champions would see her, she was not in the mood to speak to any of the others.

The doors creaked open. Riven peeked her head in, looking around curiously. No one was in the room. There were couches, chairs, tables, plates, utensils, but no one. A raven was perched on one of the chairs, staring at Riven. She made her way in and pointed at the bird, "Beatrice?"

The raven cawed in response, flapping its wings and took to the air. It flew past Riven and down the hallway. After a few moments of standing still, Riven was a bit confused. The raven flew back, cawed at her, and flew away again. Riven groaned, she would have to backtrack. She followed the raven which seemed to flutter just out of sight or around the corner every chance it got. Soon enough a black feather floated in front of a large door, opened a crack. Riven pushed it and was greeted with a fairly nice room.

There was a large, elaborate throne-like chair facing away from Riven. The aged, gnarled wood spoke of elegance, the gold, silver and ivory inlays made intricate designs and patterns upon the chair while a large bestial skull rested at the very top. It was a rather intimidating piece of furniture. Riven called out, "Swain?"

The tapping of a cane was heard, she looked over and saw an older man sitting in a much simpler and more modest chair. He pointed at the elaborate seating, his raspy voice questioning her, "It is a bit overbearing, is it not?" He rose from his seat and made his way to a small table. For every small and simple piece of furniture, a larger and more elaborate one rested nary a few feet away. The large table stretched several meters, marking the true size of this gigantic room. It was befitting a General of Noxus.

The older man had a cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face, his red eyes glistened with cleverness and wit, his Noxian robes flowed around his thin body while he tapped his cane on the floor, moving with slow, practiced steps. The raven flapped over and rested on his left shoulder, which had a perch attached to the shoulder plate he wore. He motioned to Riven to take a seat across from him, "I suppose we can skip formalities, seeing as you are not a part of Noxus anymore."

Riven raised an eyebrow and slowly took her seat. Swain looked at Riven with half bored eyes, "Would you like anything to drink? Eat?"

"I already ate," Riven replied. Swain nodded his head, "At seventeen hundred fifteen hours, yes?"

Riven slowly nodded her head in confirmation. Swain tapped his cane on the floor, "It is hard to break old habits." He rolled his hand out to her, "So, do you know why I asked you to come?"

"I can guess," Riven's eyes narrowed, "You want me to rejoin Noxus."

Swain nodded, "Yes, I do. I want you under my command."

Riven flatly stated, "I refuse. Is that all?"

Swain sighed and shook his head, "You do not even think before answering. How rash."

"I will not rejoin the man who tried to drag me back in against my will, who tried establishing my identity for me," Riven spat at him. "I know it was you who orchestrated that match, having me named Riven the Butcher, and you have the gall to ask me to rejoin?"

"Yes, I do."

Riven barked out a short laugh, "And what makes you think I would rejoin you knowing that?"

Swain sighed and palmed his face with his hand, "You are serious, are you not? You truly do not know?"

Riven looked suspiciously at Swain for a few moments. Time ticked by and he spoke up again, "I will give you a chance. Let us try this again, why do you think I would go out and have such a thing done, and then let you be made aware of it?"

Riven quickly replied, "You did not. T…the other source gave me the paperwork and the notes."

"So?" Swain looked at Riven with his bored eyes, "Do you honestly think that if I did not want you to know, that if I wanted to keep this a secret and for us to play cloak and dagger games, I could not? I could very easily. The matter of fact is, whoever gave you the information, and whoever redid the paperwork…" Swain's eyes brightened for a moment, "I have an idea or two, only suspicion, but I can guess," His eyes dulled once more, "Whoever redid the paperwork, do you not think I could have stopped it? Do you not think I was unaware what was happening? And even so, do you not think I would attempt to rectify it if I was caught unaware?"

Riven looked at Swain completely confused. She was about to ask him when he raised a hand, his raspy voice bluntly stating, "If you ask the question I know you will I am going to throw you out of the room myself: Think about it, just for a moment."

Riven sat and thought, gripping her sword tightly. Swain stared at her all the while, not moving from his hunched over position. Eventually Riven's eyes widened, she looked at Swain, "You…wanted me to know."

"Yes. Now, why?"

Riven's brow furrowed, "Because you wanted me to know that this was all trivial to you: You wanted to show me how much power you have, and how little I have."

Swain nodded his head, and rasped out, "Yes. Because you may be able to swing your sword, but you have no purpose to do so. You are a dog without a leash, without purpose. I want to give that back to you."

"Oh thank you," Riven sarcastically replied, "I would so dearly love to come back under the command of those that killed my comrades."

Swain snorted and rolled his eyes, "I was not a part of the Ionian war and I disagree with the tactics they used, the idiots."

Riven was indignant and slammed her hand on the table, "You generals are the-!" She paused for a moment, taking in what Swain had just said. "P-pardon me?"

"And you stutter. What a great orator you are," Swain sighed. He tapped the table with his gnarled finger, "I disagree with the tactics they used. Killing your unit would be and should be used only as a desperation tactic. What happened? That was not desperation, that was not losing the war, that was a skirmish gone bad because your commanders were a bunch of idiotic yokels. You should not have been so tired, so pushed, so exhausted in any shape or form, you or your men. But they pushed you, and they forced you to. That is not Noxian, that is abysmal. And the lone fact that they wasted so much ammunition on your comrades and the Ionians was also an economic loss to Noxus, meaning it failed on two fronts. If they wanted to do a kamikaze strike, at least make it so the numbers are not equal. The Ionians that died outnumbered your troop by only a few, I cannot remember the exact numbers but less than ten. In order for such a stupid idea to have any form of effectiveness and cost efficiency, the amount of slain enemies would have to at least double or triple the amount of our own killed."

The faces raced through Riven's head. She knew how many died that day. She would never forget how many did. Riven snarled at Swain, "So you would have killed them all the same? How-"

"Because I am Noxian, like you," Swain interrupted. He rolled his hand, "It is not my go to idea, Riven, I am simply stating how it would have been more effective. We do what is necessary to win."

"Even hire outside forces?" Riven gripped her sword tighter, "The Zaunites were not needed for the war, they were-"

"Completely necessary," the older man stated. "We do not have the manpower or the technology they do, and it would be rather silly not to use our allies in our war efforts."

"But why war?" Riven pressed. "Why do we need to fight all the time?"

Swain looked at Riven with a tinge of disdain, "Because it is our right. Why else? If everyone were under the rule of Noxus, Valoran would be a much better land."

"Says who?" Riven pressed harder. Swain sighed, "Says history, m'dear. Demacia and their ideals are bound to fall, we live in a society that thrives on war and the harming of other people. That is all life is, stepping on others to achieve your goals. You know this, Noxus is an idea, Noxus is for everyone who is a part of it. Noxus takes care of its own and only its own." Swain shook his head, "Without Noxus, Valorean would have fallen. Runeterra would have fallen. It was through the strength of Noxus that we are even here at all."

He rolled his gnarled finger in the air, "Did you know that once upon a time, Demacia and Noxus were one and the same?"

Riven tilted her head to a side. Was he serious? Was he really telling her this? Swain continued, "Think about it, think of some of the family names. Some Demacians have Noxian blood running in their veins, and vice versa. We used to be one, than the wars and ideals happened."

"Your point being?" Riven questioned. Swain let out another guttural sigh, "Really, you need me to explain it? Demacia and Noxus were one and the same, Noxus kept their ideals and Demacia did not. Demacia was Noxus. Then they wished for independence." He flicked his glance at Riven, "That is why Noxus and Demacia have been at war for generations upon generations, because Demacia rightfully belongs to Noxus. Most history books do not recount that far back, but if you do a little searching you are able to find even the best kept secrets. You simply need to know where to look for this magical land of wonder and amazement." Swain grinned under his cloth, "Some people call it the library."

Riven slammed her fist on the table, "Do you think I'm ignorant?" Riven barked at Swain, "Of course I know that! Any Noxian worth their salt knows this history!'

"And that is exactly what you are, Riven. A Noxian worth their salt," Swain admitted. Riven tilted her head back, firmly stating, "I will not rejoin Noxus."

"But you will. If you do not, then you will die the moment your revolution fails," Swain pointedly spoke. Riven fell backwards into her chair, looking at Swain with utter surprise. He chuckled, "You thought I did not know, did you not?"

"H…how? I didn't…I…" Riven's eyes went wide, trying to think of when she could have said it. She had not, she only came to that conclusion scant days ago. Swain rasped out, "I've been observing you for some time, Riven."

"Seeing your bird now, I would fathom you have been spying on me since I was inducted," Riven glared at him. The old man shook his head, "No, no, I have been observing you since you were but a child."

Swain leaned forward, "And you had those dead eyes, even back then. Those dead, hungry eyes. You were always looking for something, always seeking something, combat did not satisfy you. Serving Noxus did." He drummed his fingers on the table, "When I see you now, I see a very familiar face, I can read you like a picture book. You cannot hide your newfound emotions, young one."

Riven nearly snarled, "How do you know this? How can you apparently read me?" Swain shrugged, "Simple. Your eyes…" He tapped the side of his head, "Are the same as mine. You want what I want, Noxus reborn. What you and I want is really not so different, I want Noxus' regime to change, their ideals to change back to the older ways. I want Noxus, to be Noxus." He raised an admonishing finger at her, "The difference between you and I, is that you are a grunt. A soldier. You do not have the intelligence to rule, while I?" Swain chuckled, "Well, let us say that I do."

"I will not be insulted," Riven leaped out of her seat, "Nor will I be ridiculed. You state that you would have killed my comrades if you were in the same position, you insult my intelligence, you insult my very being and you say you were observing me since I was young! I did not come to be your puppet! How can you sit there and speak so, so calmly, so easily about this, like you know I will bend to you?"

"Then why did you come?" Swain rolled his eyes, "Do not answer that, it is rhetorical. I think I can answer all of your questions, with a simple song."

Riven groaned, great he's eccentric. What's he going to- A hauntingly familiar song…no, lullaby hummed from Swain's lips. Riven started to shake all over, sweat beading down her face. His raven nuzzled herself against Swain's cheek. When he finished he patted his raven's head, "Beatrice always gets soft when I hum that."

Riven was nearly in tears, the table cracked from the death grip she had on it. Swain chuckled, "Do not look so surprised, and no. I am not your father. Your father was a Noxian legislator that was killed by an assassin/spy disguised as a prostitute. His name has been erased due to the dishonorable death he suffered at the hands of your mother."

"Th…then how…" Riven tried forming a question. Swain answered for her, "Simple, really. I was the one who had your mother killed."

All color was drained from Riven's face. Her shoulders violently shook, "You…you…"

"I was quite young at the time, I would weather…Twenty five years younger, and Barom Darkwill wanted this woman caught. No one steals from Noxus and lives, especially not from Barom himself. So after a few years of a fruitless search, I decided to try and make a name for myself. I told Darkwill to give me four days, three horses and two men. I will find her."

Swain took a pause and got up from his chair. He hobbled over to a metal box. He flicked it open and drew out a piece of rotting meat. Holding it up to Beatrice, the raven greedily ate the meat. Swain continued,

"It took me two days. She was humming that song in her final moments, and my subordinates cleanly and painlessly killed her. No one steals from Noxus and lives, Riven. We look around the little house and we find that she had a child, you. I ordered you to be killed, no dissent is allowed in Noxus." Swain nodded his head, silently laughing, "The soldier refused at first, saying he was not a child killer. 'But you serve Noxus, and me,' was my response. He goes over, picks you up, and dies."

Swain craned his head upwards, revealing his leathery neck. Tapping his jugular, he continued, "You had managed to slip one of the blades he had sheathed on his leg and you killed him. It should be impossible, for a child to move so fast, especially one your age. You were barely more than a baby, wielding a two foot combat knife and letting blood spurt all over you. He dropped you, gurgled a bit, and died. While you? You landed on the floor, broke your legs, and brandished the knife against us. You were willing to fight us to your final breath, and you did not even know what it meant to die. What it meant to kill. Yet there you were, willing to do so." Swain's eyes narrowed, "That is when I brought you back to Darkwill, to replace the coward you had killed. You were born to be a killer, you were trained to be a soldier, and that is all you will ever be, Riven."

Riven's color returned. Her head was bowed while she slowly spoke, "How do I know you are not lying? How do I know this is not a ruse?"

Swain snorted, "Why would I lie? I could lie, quite easily, but then that would mean you would never believe me when I did utter the truth. No, Riven, this is not a lie. That is the truth of the circumstance of your existence." He leaned forward, his raspy voice firm and commanding, "And I am sorry to say, but your dreams, your aspirations, cannot come true. You do not have the skill, the intellect, the personality needed. All you are, is a soldier. A killer. That is why I did all of this, why I did the bureaucratic nonsense, it was all to prove a point. You can achieve nothing on your own, that is why I am asking you this…" Swain tapped his chest, "Join me, join the man who spared your life and who wants the same thing you do: Noxus reborn."

"…And if I refuse?" Riven did not look up yet. Swain chuckled, "Then you are a lot more ignorant and naïve than I thought you were, you become dead weight, and I cut you loose."

Riven sat there in silence for several minutes. Beatrice interrupted the deadly quiet with a caw every now and then when Riven finally spoke again, "Tell me one thing, Swain. What is the meaning of strength?"

Swain raised an eyebrow, "The meaning of strength is to use it to better others. Only the strongest deserve to rule, everyone else should be subject to he who is smarter, stronger, because they are nothing but worms compared to a bird. They need someone, something to emulate."

Riven looked at Swain, her amber eyes burning bright with anger and sadness. Tears lined her face, "Thank you, Swain." Her eyes narrowed, blistering, "But I refuse your offer." Riven's voice flooded the room, "You made a few mistakes, Swain, but the main one was my eyes. My cold, dead eyes. You think that our eyes are the same? No, they may be similar, but I am my own person. I am not your dog, I am not on a leash, I am Riven."

Riven's voice boomed with authority, "You really are a raven, Swain! I am not you, I do not pick on the excrements and the dead flesh of others! I do not hunt for the eggs of others and eat them whilst they are unaware! Riven the Butcher may have killed whom you pointed to, but I do not!"

The entire table shattered from Riven smashing it with her fist, her eyes now blazing, "I am my own person! I will spread my own wings, and I will do what I feel is right!"

Swain rasped out, "And you will die doing so." Riven's piercing glare actually unsettled him. She looked like a predator, ready to dive in and tear his throat out, "Then I die of my own accord for once. Then I am not what Noxus needs." Riven beamed a smile at Swain, "And do not think I do not know why you so adamantly want me. I was the poster child for Noxus, I was the best of the best, how would the great and powerful General Swain look if he had Riven serving under him once more? No, I believe I will not do so, 'father.' Goodbye."

"I believe I said-"

"You would not have said it," Riven cut Swain off in mid-sentence, "If you did not think it would make me think in such a way. You wanted it to make it seem like I owe you something, for sparing my life, as if I am indebted to you. As if I should thank you for making me a soldier, a weapon." She punctuated each of her next four words, "I. Owe. You. Nothing."

Riven picked her sword off the floor and briskly walked out of the room. Swain sighed, "Hrm… I almost had her, almost…" He scratched his chin, "What changed? That should have convinced her."

Beatrice loudly cawed, making Swain smirk. He lowered his cloth and cooed at her, "Do not fret. There is still one last chance to have her under our wing. If not…well, I suppose freshly killed is the best of meats." Beatrice cawed in agreement.

Riven's broken blade dragged on the stone floor, rapidly firing sparks out. She was indignant, beyond angry, and very frustrated. A shadow glided, following her, watching her. She did not notice. She stormed down the halls and out the doors. This place was as big as a city, it would take her hours to reach her destination.

She made her way to one of the only bars available in the Institute that was not headed by that despicable, vermin of a man, and where her acquaintance would be waiting.

Creaking the doors open, the bar was loud and rowdy. A bunch of people were gathered in a circle as an extraordinarily fat bartender lazily looked about, taking a drink from his large cask. His gigantic red beard flowed down his hairy belly, he seemed not to have a care in the world. Riven attempted to yell her question to no avail. The man leaned over, dribbling alcohol all over himself. With his free hand he wiped up the puddles and licked it, bellowing in a deep voice, "Whatcha need lass?"

Riven yelled louder, "Where is Sivir?"

The man nodded his head, "I knew it, you all want the same thing. Here ye go!" He reached over and poured a draft of ale into a mug. He slid it to Riven, "One silver graggy, draft!"

Riven sighed and tilted to pour the drink out. The bartender's eyes flashed red, his nostrils flared and he was readied to attack when a strong hand grabbed her shoulder. The long black hair, the circlet, the cross boomerang, the Battle Mistress Sivir was here. She pointed at the crowd that had gathered, and the man who was grabbing his arm in agony. Sivir laughed and drew Riven in close, "Don't worry Grags, she's with me! It's just a joke, right?"

Gragas furrowed his brow, "Then she better drink up."

Riven looked at Sivir, then at the beer. Sivir nodded, making Riven sigh. She downed the ale, her cheeks started to instantly go bright red, making Gragas roar in laughter, "She ain't much of a drinker, is she?"

Sivir laughed with him, "No she ain't. Keep the tab up, Grag! I need a few more drinks!" Gragas shook an admonishing finger at her, "Only a few more? Yer goin' soft lass!"

Sivir escorted Riven out, and when they were a safe distance Riven spat out the contents of her mouth. Sivir whistled, "You can fit a lot in your mouth, you know that?"

Riven sputtered a bit, "Had to, couldn't look bad in front of the other commanders." Sivir sighed, knowing that she had completely missed the joke. The Battle Mistress tapped Riven's shoulder, "Still, you drank some, right? You couldn't possibly-"

Riven weaved back and forth, "I…I think…I need to sit down for a bit." Sivir chuckled and led her to a bench. She leaned over and gripped her head, "Why do you people drink? It fogs your mind up so much."

Sivir shrugged, "Tastes good and sometimes people don't want to think." She slapped Riven's back, making her cough, "So! Did you talk to good ol' Swine?"

Riven nodded, "You were right. He tried convincing me. He's desperate."

"I knew it…" Sivir nodded her head, snapping her fingers, "And what'd you do about it?"

Riven regained her posture, "I told him to shove it."

Sivir burst out laughing, "If only I got to see his face!" She patted Riven's shoulder, "Right, so, consultation fees…" She held her free hand out. Riven nodded and reached into her pouch she kept on her belt. Sivir shrugged, "Everyone's got their price. Y'know, if your plan ever goes through, I'd be more than willing to…"

Riven bluntly stated, "No mercenaries." She looked at Sivir, blurry eyed, "Noxus should be fought with Noxians. Not with Zaunites, not with mercenaries, no one else but Noxians." Sivir laughed as Riven pressed a handful of coins into the Mistress' palm. Sivir grabbed one of the coins with her free hand, bit it, and flipped it into the air, "This'll get me another two drinks."

Riven rested her head on her hand, speaking up once more, "Is it alright if I keep consulting you?"

"Heh…kid?" Sivir looked at Riven with a wide grin, "So long as you keep your end of the bargain, and keep on paying me, you can consult me as much as you want."

Riven nodded and tilted her head back. She looked up at the high ceiling above them. She muttered aloud, "It's hard to see the stars from here. Why dun' they move the ceiling more to th…th'left?"

Sivir glanced at Riven, albeit surprised, "Are…are you drunk?" Riven was apparently fast asleep, her cheeks a bright scarlet. The Battle Mistress burst out laughing, "Half a pint, maybe, and she's out like a light!" She shook her head and walked back to the bar, leaving Riven alone.

The moment she was alone, Riven opened an eye and got to her feet. She palmed at her head and groaned, "I hate drinkin' so friggin' much…" She stumbled a bit at first, than straightened her walk. The shadow that had been following her dropped down onto the bench she was resting on and watched the snowy haired woman leave. Talon nodded his head a few times, than disappeared from view.