Chapter 14: The Summoner

The Hazy Inn Tavern of Kalamanda had been bustling with its usual weekend business. Occupied seats catered to the usual crowd and thanks to the bar's proximity also served League officers and champions. Though the leaguers seemed to have their own society within the League of Legends, the small town of Kalamanda always welcomed their neighbors.

Summoner Jack and a few of his fellow junior summoners took advantage of their hospitable community to celebrate a recent victory. In their careless joy, they ordered many tapped bears, several shots, and cocktails that could sustain Gragas's thirst for about an hour or two. They cracked inside jokes of letting Urf become a champion and passed along the latest gossip of Taric and Ezreal.

Feeling a strong urge in his beer-filled bladder, Jack quickly excused himself to the restroom, knowing he was ready to explode. But striding toward the bathroom, an interesting sight had caught his eye: It was a woman, drinking alone for the evening. Solemnly, she took small sips of white wine from a polished glass and stared tentatively at the fading wooden bar as if contemplating something.

Remembering his natural urges, he ran to the restroom to finish his business, only to catch himself staring at the woman again on his way back to his friends. Her elegant red hair cascaded over her cheeks, but her face was marred by a long scar. Tight leather exposed her fit body and belted around her waist were several weapons, among them throwing knives. Somehow the woman seemed extremely familiar, most likely someone Jack had encountered at the league. There was an intricate type of beauty to her, almost ageless, despite the aura of danger she carried.

"Hello there, miss." He coyly asked, taking an obvious detour back to his own table. The alcohol had fueled him with enough courage to even speak with her, something he knew he was only blowing dice with. But not a word was said by the woman, as she continued to stare at her wine. Jack heard his friends chucking from afar, as his cheeks began to glow a fleshy red. Embarrassed, he looked away and slowly began walking back toward his friends.

"Can I help you, summoner?" She finally answered as Jack wasted no time to begin a conversation with her.

"I erm – Well, I wanted to say that you looked rather beautiful tonight…" He conjured some more courage and took the barstool beside her. She continued take more sips from the glass until finally she reached the last drop. The alcohol-fueled summoner continued spitting out words "…and you've got a really nice set of uh…boots! Yeah boots! Also that scar doesn't look too bad, in fact it makes your face kinda…"

"Looks can be deceiving, most especially with alcohol in your breath. But making bad decisions are even worst." She answered, her face turning to him. The scar was the most obvious thing about her, shadowing her marvelous aquamarine eyes. Something about her seemed lethal; it might have been her sharp weapons, but Jack knew he had come too far in the game to just run away with a tail between his legs.

"No-no please don't think that. I've seen you before at the League. You're a quite stunning and talen-"

"Stop this." Without a blink, the red headed woman paid her dues to bartender and stood up before he could finish his complements. He quietly watched as she made her way toward the door, much to his disappointment.

Had he offended her? Or was it worst, and did she think that he wanted to do things with her? Though discreetly he lusted for her body, he knew as a league summoner, it was in his moral code to be more respectful than he had acted. Without a second thought he got up from his stool and began to chase the woman. His friends remained, watching the scene unfold for their desperate friend.

Outside, she had begun walking back toward the league. Her arms were crossed and she was turned away from him. It was now obvious to Jack that he had upset her, and any morality he had left compelled him to chase her. It was the very least he could do.

"I sincerely apologize if you think I treated you a less than a woman, I know a bar isn't the best place to talk to ladies and you must've thought…well you know." He bashfully said, bowing his head down.

Without a word, she turned to him with a big grin on her face. She had him exactly where he was supposed to be.

After the other junior summoners finished the last of their beers, they all finally agreed to return back to the Institute. Hours had passed since Jack had run out on them and they began praising him for his successful endeavors. To them, he was the lucky one that night, as they all proceeded to leave without him.

He would've been lucky, if he hadn't gotten himself killed.

Talon's footsteps shadowed closely behind Katarina's, as he followed her to eastern side of the DuCouteau Manor. The dim hallway had become unkempt in her absence, the dust on the floors retained shoe prints from the months before. There were words to be said, yet neither had answers. Only mysteries shrouded the consequences of General DuCouteau's watch, as if it was a piece to a completely different puzzle. At the end of the hallway, Katarina unlocked the door to her bedroom, inhaling its familiar smell. She began to relax a little, knowing she could finally put her guard down in the room.

"I say we leave our little investigation behind, till the morning. You seem like you'll need some rest as well." Katarina finally said as she lit up a filthy, yellow lamp beside her bedroom door.

"But I've got a hunch Katarina. What happened was no accident at all. It had to be elaborately planned by someone. If we're going to figure out anything we can't even shut our eyes for a momen…" Talon said, stepping into the room.

"I've said this once before and I'll say it again. Why does this still matter so much to you?" Katarina coldly interrupted, albeit to the surprise of Talon. Talon stood beside her bed, contemplating his answer. "Any good dog would know that digging everywhere isn't worth it, especially if there are probably no bones. You don't have to do this, and I won't make you do this."

Talon's eyes moved to her scar, recalling a time when he could care less about the woman. And now, he had gone far and beyond his honor and gratitude for the elder DuCouteau. Though his own interests had grown exponentially, he looked toward Katarina as she sat down on her bed. Her eyes were deep and hollowed, as if something more had broken inside of her; she had become a porcelain figure of the woman she was, devoid of any fighting spirit.

If they had gotten her father, Talon knew that at some point they would make an attempt on Katarina herself, especially in such a state. He had to find a way for her to recover her strength, to take her out of her despair. He had to protect her from everyone, including herself. Like a virus, Katarina had occupied the majority of Talon's thoughts and intentions.

"But what if that dog is sure that there's gold to be found?" He finally responded, his lips pursed into a small, but sincere smile for her.

"Fine. Do what you have to do. I suppose you're a grown man." Katarina exhaled in defeat, setting her head down on the pillow. She continued to watch him, his big brown eyes entrapping hers.

"Very well, Miss Katarina, I'll see you in the morning." He answered, before taking steady steps toward the doorway.

"I hope you can keep your word about that." She mumbled somberly, watching the heavy wooden door close behind him, vibrating the room. Katarina spent the next moments listening to his distancing footsteps. As the footsteps grew inaudible, a dark and familiar feeling of fear began to sink inside of her.

Author's Note: *insert some sad excuse for the 9 month hiatus* I'm sorry. TwT