Garen II

The halls of the mageseeker compound was blindingly white. A fortress of petricite that would make any mage quail at the thought of being held within. I had thought it to be a symbol of Demacia's fortitude in resisting the evils of magic. Great Grandfather Fossian sacrificed himself to slay a nightmarish entity of foul magic. Uncle Theron was slain by a mage while he was doing his duty. Magic and Crownguards have always been mortal foes.

Luxanna changed that. There was always the niggling feeling in the back of my mind that she was a mage, little hints here and there that she wielded the power that Demacia has always espoused as evil. I feared her and at the same time, I feared for her. Feared the idea that if she ever turned her magic against Demacia, then it would be me who has to end her.

Then the prince, my closest friend, comes home, telling tales of dragons and reptile men, of moving statues and of my sister's magic that illuminated the sky with the light of a thousand suns. Luxanna Crownguard, Mage (or Magical Girl in her words), Dragonslayer and Heroine of Wrenwall. My sister.

I thought the prince was japing, but the violet skinned woman, a half-dragon, a creature of magic, walking alongside the prince while ignoring the hateful glares of the mageseekers around us was proof that something dragon-related actually happened. I was brought back to the present when we were confronted by an elderly man, clad in mageseeker robes and half his face covered by a silver mask.

"Inquisitor Carrow." The prince addressed the newly arrived man. "The king ordered all mages who have been found innocent of crimes to attend the court hearing today."

The Inquisitor, and his guards, eyed the prince's lady friend - Shyvana - balefully.

"Yes. Against all common sense, the mages deemed 'innocent' by Demacian law has been released for the day. As though the Law of Stone didn't exist." The older man spat out.

"The Law of Stone dictates that any citizen or foreigner within Demacia's walls are not allowed to use magic. Not that they are not allowed to merely have it." The prince chided him and the hateful glare on the Inquisitor's face had me fingering the hilt of my sword.

"Tsk. We've done as the king, in his madness, commanded. Now, why are you here instead of attending that farce of a hearing?"

"New evidence has come to light regarding on of your still incarcerated prisoners. One Sylas of Dregbourne."

The Inquisitor's eyes bulged out and I could hear the maddened whispers of the mageseekers around us. Even Shyvana, who had been happily ignoring them all this time seemed confused at the sudden activity. It was understandable. That name was an infamous one.

"The man is a maniac! A murderer who has killed many of our honorable order!"

Prince Jarvan grimaced, his lips forming a thin line that belied the anger he was truly feeling.

"I did not know that killing for the sake of defending others was a crime. Perhaps we should arrest the entirety of the Dauntless Vanguard while we're at it?"

This was it. The crux of the matter. That single moment that finally got through my own stubbornness and indecision regarding mages. That moment when a twenty-one year old mage, one of the many that have arrived in the king's court earlier today, went up to the king ignoring the dozens of swords pointed her way, knelt and pleaded for the life of the man who killed the mageseekers trying to arrest her, a child barely seven years old at the time.

I looked around the pristine white walls of the mageseeker compound and tried to imagine the dark cells they kept mages in for 'curing'. I tried to imagine a seven year old girl being tossed carelessly into one of those cells, being force fed molten petricite in an attempt to fix her 'affliction'. And on that seven year old girl's face was Luxanna's face and I had to restrain myself from challenging each and every mageseeker around me to a duel of honor.

The silence was uncomfortable and the tension was palpable. The prince finally spoke again.

"Sylas of Dregbourne is to attend my father's speech later today. Even if the Seneschal of Demacia has to pick him up personally."

The mageseekers flinched, any chances of arranging an 'accident' for Sylas disappearing at the thought of the legendary Xin Zhao coming here in person.

Sylas of Dregbourne. A man incarcerated and probably tortured for ultimately doing the right thing. What would thirteen years of solitude have done to him?

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Luxanna Bonus Scene

"Are you alright, Teacher?" I asked, the sight of Teacher - big, strong Teacher - sneezing like he had a cold being an unfamiliar one.

"I sense as a disturbance in the Force."

====

Barrett II

"For generations, we have lived in fear. Fear of the magic that have driven our ancestors into the depths of the Petricite forest. We fear magic and the destruction it causes, but we must not forget that the mages living among us are also Demacians. We may fear their power, but we need not fear them as people, lest in our fear and desperation, we give them ample reason to act against us."

The king's eyes gazed over at the enraptured crowd, landing briefly on the notorious Sylas of Dregbourne, clad in rags, his arms still shackled by massive blocks of petricite. His maddened eyes showed a glimmer of surprise and the girl beside him, another mage who has recently gained some fame for her brazen act put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. I have always known that mages are also people, who have the potential to do right or wrong. Lady Crownguard has set a shining example of nobility, and those mages who were too afraid to help people with their powers are now coming out of the woodwork.

I turned my head to look at my daughters, Kahina embracing Sona in delight and Sona staring at the king with wide eyed wonder. The people have always loved her music and if she was allowed to use her magic, the peace and tranquility it brings would be more proof that magic is not just a tool of destruction.

Still, as I eyed the shadowy corners of the throne room, where the mageseekers bristled and the nobles plotted, I couldn't help but think that it wouldn't be as easy as we hoped.

"And so, by royal decree, I declare that all mages in the realm are to be treated as true Demacians, subject to its laws and protections..."

The crowd was now in a fervor, crying and laughing together, whispering in each other's ears. And yet, all I could see was the rising tension in the silver masked mageseekers that surrounded us. Only a fool would try anything here, where they are visible to all of Demacia. Their order would never be trusted again, and might even be torn down by the king.

"...that they have the right to fair trial, they they not be persecuted for things beyond their contro-grk."

As the king toppled to the ground, a crossbow bolt in his eye, there was only silence. Then a cry. It wasn't a cry of anguish. It was a battlecry, a call to arms.

"The king was enthralled by magic! Mageseekers, to arms!" The culprit, still holding the guilty crossbow cried out, shooting another bolt into the crowd of mages before fleeing. The guards at the throne room's doors tried to stop her, only to be struck down by mageseekers.

I could have stayed behind. The anguished roar of the Prince as he lopped off the High Inquisitor's head made me want to stay. The sight of Kahina pulling Sona into safety among the Illuminator's ranks made me want to stay, but she was a soldier and is overprotective enough of her sister. The sight of Shyvana being shot at by petricite bolts, of the infamous Sylas being protected from mageseekers by the girl that spoke up for him with blazing blue fire lighting up her hands, of the Seneschal standing protectively over the king's body and slaying any mageseeker that dared come near, of the mageseekers brutally cutting down the mages unfortunate enough to be too close to them, all of these made me want to stay.

Instead, I gave chase.

Out the throne room doors, past the castle's great hall, ignoring the sounds of chaos and combat that erupted all around me, I gave chase. She stopped in the middle of an empty corridor and turned to face me. The silver mask that was the signature of the mageseekers glared at me, but beneath that mask was a familiar face. I drew my sword.

"That's far enough, Lucia."

The confident smirk in her face was unlike the fidgety, nervous Lucia I knew, the loyal squire that I have taken under my wing.

"Lord Buvelle, fancy meeting you here." She replied, her voice was almost seductive, which was strange coming from a fifteen year old girl.

"You know the laws, Lucia. You know regicide is punishable by death. Why?"

Why would she do this? Does she hate magic that much? I taught her, I trained her, I fought and bled alongside her. She knew my opinion on mages and how they were treated. I wanted to understand, I wanted to know why she would give up her life for such a backwards cause. She shrugged.

"Who knows, really?"

Such an insufferable answer could not have come from my loyal squire. I brandished my blade and glared at her. I knew her skills. It would be a matter of seconds before I was upon her and able to cut her down.

"Who are you?"

My answer was a coquettish grin and a sharp spike of pain in my back.

"Grk!" I choked out, dropping to my knees. The figure of Lucia in front of me vanished into thin air. I felt consciousness slip away, felt my face hit the cobbled floor and heard the sound of footsteps walking from behind me. As darkness claimed my vision, the last thing I heard was a sultry voice.

"I am everywhere. I am everyone."

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ARC II: Conceal, Don't Feel END

The sun-kissed young woman walks off the boat and into the docks, taking in the pristine white marble of the streets and buildings around her.

"I am here." She says happily, gazing around in awe and wonder. Then the people started killing each other, organized forces in robes and silver masks cutting down the innocent folk walking through the streets, binding the survivors with chains of stone. The woman frowns and rushes to help, gleaming, white stone following her from behind.

The massive statue crashes down in the middle of the city, shattering the cobbled marble streets and eliciting gasps of fear, shock and awe from the surrounding people.

"I AM HERE!" It announces, before looking around, only to see the fires that ravage the buildings, the corpses and blood that litter the streets and it felt rage, a rage shared by his passengers.

The boy, barely a teenager, arrives at the foot of a tall mountain, exhausted from his journey across the desert but his eyes still glowing with ambition and energy.

"I am here!" He declares and from the peak of the mountain, the sun, the moon and the stars gaze down bewilderedly as destiny changed once more.

ARC III: Stars and Stones