Garen I

"Hah!"

The practice sword in my hand struck my opponent's lance, deflecting an admittedly formidable thrust from striking my abdomen. My momentum carried my blade around in a wide circular swing, this time aimed for my opponent's head. He hopped back, avoiding my sword by mere inches and continuing backwards to widen the space between us.

"Hahaha, I see that your time in the shield wall hasn't dulled your dueling skills, Garen." He praised my swordwork sincerely and I nodded once in gratitude.

"And I see that you've been keeping your skills with a lance rather sharp, Prince Jarvan." I praised him back. It was to be expected, considering how the prince was being trained by the legendary Xin Zhao himself. The prince boomed out a laugh and approached me with his hand outstretched, a sign that our bout was over. I clasped his hand with my own.

"A good spar, my friend." He said contentedly. "Your time in Freljord must have been interesting."

I grunted. The campaigns in the Freljordian border consisted mostly of holding Noxian soldiers and Freljordian raiders back from the fortresses that blocked entry into Demacian territory. It was my first exposure to Freljordian ice magic and the memories of loyal Demacian soldiers frozen to the core, never to be move again, made my fist clench.

Magic. The bane of humanity. The foul thing that killed Uncle Theron as he was doing his duty as a ranger-knight of Demacia.

"Is something wrong, Garen?" The prince asked, our long friendship having given him the ability to read my moods clear as day. I shook my head.

"Nothing important, my prince, just memories." Prince Jarvan nodded understandingly, though his next words made it clear that he took the wrong message.

"Aha, memories of glorious battle in service to Demacia? I must admit, I am envious of you, my friend." I understood why. Prince Jarvan has grown up with tales of Demacian soldiers fighting valiantly on the battlefield, from the legendary duel between King Jarvan the First and the Noxian brute Sion to the constant clashes between Demacian and Noxian armies near the Argent Mountains. Despite his training with Xin Zhao, the king's right hand man, he was still thirsting for the taste of glory on the battlefield.

"I'm sure you will make your mark on Demacian history one day, my prince. As a great king and leader, at the very least." I told him. He grinned at me, that familiar knowing grin that he sported on that fateful training day, the first day we met, when sheer brute strength met devious tactical ability.

"That day is coming sooner than you think, Garen! My father has recently named me a general in the Demacian army." While that was news to me, it wasn't exactly surprising either. Demacian tradition had princes and princesses named as generals on the day they come of age. It was an honorary title, and they were not truly expected to take the field of battle, as royal blood was too valuable to risk lightly.

"Then allow me to congratulate you, my prince." I said. He laughed, and his jovial attitude finally threw off the melancholy I was feeling from my memories of Freljord.

"Thank you, my friend." He looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. "Are you to be posted at the Freljordian border again, Garen?"

I shook my head. The garrisons in border fortresses rotated constantly and it would be a long while before I was assigned to a garrison post again. I had hoped to catch up with Luxanna before I get assigned a new post but an opportunity came up that I couldn't allow to pass by.

"I'm afraid not, my prince. Though I have offered my sword to the mageseekers for the foreseeable future." He blinked owlishly in surprise, and had I been anyone but me, I would have smirked at him. Instead, I kept my gaze steady.

"The mageseekers? You were never interested in them before?" I still wasn't. The mageseekers were a necessary part of Demacia, but even though I was sure that no Crownguard would ever deign to have magic, that niggling suspicion regarding my sister made me hesitant to trust the mageseekers in anything but the direst of times.

Unfortunately, this was one of those times.

"A cult of rogue mages appears to have made their home in the Silent Forest." I explained and the prince's eyes lit up in realization.

"You think the mage that killed your uncle is there?"

I nodded. It wasn't a certainty, but I owed it to my family, to Aunt Tianna and to the Crownguard name to purge the mage that dared wield magic against one of our own. My mind flashed back, to Luxanna's devastated face upon being told that our favorite uncle, who told us tales of his adventures outside the kingdom's walls, was killed by a mage. To her terrified face and the haste with which she hid a suspiciously bright hand in her sleeve. To those days when I was tempted to turn my own sister in, for the sins another mage has committed. To the constant guilt I hid beneath a façade of valor and determination at having those temptations.

"My uncle was a Greenfang ranger." I continued and the prince nodded. It didn't need to be said that the Silent Forest was near the foot of the Greenfang mountain range.

We stood in the training in silence for a while, lost in our own heads. Prince Jarvan spoke up, this time with an air of regret.

"I wished to have you by my side on my first actual battle, my friend, but I understand your priorities." I blinked.

"Actual battle?" That was strange. Surely, the king wouldn't risk his only heir. This time, I could see the ambition in the prince's eyes. His next words were spoken with desperate fervor.

"I've heard the stories. The lands beyond the Argent Mountains has become a lawless frontier, ravaged by Noxian brutes."

I didn't like where this was going.

"My first act, as a general of the Demacian army, is to establish order in those lands and claim them for Demacia!"

I remained silent, but underneath my mask of stoicism, I felt fear. Fear that my oldest and greatest friend wasn't prepared for this endeavor. Fear that he would bite off more than he can chew.

For a second, I was tempted to go to the king. Surely he would put a stop to this?

Then I saw Luxanna in the prince's place, and the silver mask of a mageseeker transposed on the king's face..

I kept silent.
====

Luxanna II

It was a testament to the Crownguard family's influence that all I got for running out of the citadel was a reprimand and a couple days of additional lectures. As far as I'm concerned, that was a good trade for feeling free for the first time in forever.

Unfortunately, the other lectures I've attended regularly since then were not as painless.

"Why have you stopped, Elsa?" That was a growly reptilian voice.

"It's Luxanna!"

"But he's right, small girl person. You have stopped." That was a deep booming voice.

"It's Luxanna!"

"Wax on, wax off, Anna." That was the reptilian voice again.

"Close enough." I grumbled as I started rubbing nectarfly wax on the colossus' leg.

"That feels good, small girl person." The booming voice of the colossus remarked.

"Why do I have to do this anyway?" I complained as I continued cleaning the statue. My Teacher gave off a throaty rumble that I've since figured to be an amused sound.

"A sound soul dwells within a sound mind and a sound body." He said after a moment of deliberation. I frowned.

"What does it mean?" I hopped back as the statue I was cleaning rumbled with laughter.

"He means that your magic is strong but your brain and body are not, small girl person."

What?

"Did you just call me stupid?"

"Wax on, wax off, Elsa."

Kadira II

It felt weird to traverse the Great Sai accompanied by a platoon of soldiers. Especially since I didn't have Zaifa and the rest of my pack with me this time.

Of course, that doesn't mean that my current company wasn't interesting.

"This appears to be the place." The deep voice of Lord Nasus announced and the soldiers travelling with us stopped their march.

In front of us was a ruin, the crumbling remnant of what used to be a formidable tower. The entire reason why Shurima's greatest librarian, a platoon of soldiers and I, a historian, were here in the first place.

"Should we secure the area, Lord Nasus, Lady Kadira?" Captain Baral, the leader of our soldier escort, asked.

That was another strange thing. Apparently, being a known 'student of Lord Renekton' has elevated me in the eyes of the Shuriman people. Not exactly something the daughter of a pair of Ruin Runners was used to.

Lord Nasus grunted, hefting his axe over his shoulder effortlessly. Instead of answering, he crouched down and started brushing the sand off from a sandstone slab to reveal a diamond shaped symbol.

"It appears that Ahri's interpretation of my brother's prophecy has merit."

I froze. Behind me, I could hear the hushed whispers of the soldiers. Even Captain Baral spoke in an unnerved tone.

"The Cinematic of the Ruination?"

Lord Nasus stood up and gazed at the ruined tower.

"Even in my self exile, I have heard stories of the Sentinels of Light. Of how they were spread throughout the entirety of Runeterra to defend it from some nebulous threat."

It was easy to see where Lord Nasus' train of thought was going. A group as prolific and influential as the Sentinels of Light wouldn't simply leave untapped resources, such as a fortified tower and the cache of artifacts within. While not a certainty, the abandoned tower in the Great Sai does point to the dwindling influence of the Sentinels.

"If my brother and his wife are right, if the Sentinels of Light are important figures for a future apocalyptic event, then they must be found. They must be informed that they will have the might of Shurima at their backs." Lord Nasus concluded.

Left unsaid was the alternative. The possibility that the Sentinels have long been gone.

"We need information. Search the tower for clues and artifacts. We must know what happened to the Sentinels, or at least those that once used this tower."

For the first time since losing my parents, my voice was clear.