Nothing. Absolutely nothing. When Quinn opened her eyes, that's what she was able to remember from her dreams.

A content smile formed on her face. It was a rare but pleasant morning to not have any memory of dreaming. She took a deep breath, allowing a calm to set in. It was liberating to have slept without thinking. As she glanced around, she noticed the room was still mostly dark. The sun must have been just cresting the horizon. A long yawn escaped her mouth as she began to sit up.

Trying to move, however, quickly abolished the positive thoughts from her head. She was in a cocoon of bedding, lying on the floor where Sona and Valor had helped her fall asleep. She tried to sit up, but found her strength still hadn't returned from her surgery. Attempting to at least shift away from laying on the floor was similarly unsuccessful. A heavy sigh went forth as defeat reared its ugly head.

Movement caught her eye. One of Valor's wings draped over the side of the bed, followed by a light snore. She also saw some blue hair flowing on the bed, telling her Sona had stayed after her musical intervention. Right now, a mute girl was stronger than a ranger. There shouldn't have been any shame in it, but Quinn usually could do what she wanted. At the moment, she couldn't even make herself move.

Her mouth opened to make a sound, but so much weaker did she feel, that any sound she made could barely be described as quiet and meek. Nobody on the bed moved. Quinn couldn't wake them, and resigned herself to her fate.

They deserve their sleep. She remembered her murderous nightmare before Sona and Valor helped. Her mood darkened. She closed her eyes and hoped the darkness would grant some more rest. Already, she was prepared for the day to end.

After falling asleep for another spell, she woke up to find the sun hadn't risen much from the horizon. This was more around the time she usually woke up, and Valor as well. Still, her companions did not move. After a half-hour, large wings stretched forth, and Valor propped himself up on the bed, surveying the scene. His glances made their way to Quinn's side of the floor. He looked into her eyes, his own beaming with happiness and rejuvenation.

Quinn was in no mood to stomach those happy feelings. Turning her head away from Valor took a great deal of energy, but she didn't need that optimism right now. She would rather deal with the pain all over her body.

Valor noticed this as well. He walked up to Sona and gently pushed his head against her own. She stirred from her slumber, smiling as she always seemed to be, as Valor used his wing to motion in Quinn's direction. She made her way to the edge of the bed.

The sound of feet on the floor caught Quinn's attention: she had never seen Sona walk, only float around with unmatched grace. Sona knelt down and helped Quinn into a sitting position, and started unwrapping the blankets.

"Don't let your mind be troubled."

The words that Quinn heard in her mind shocked her. Did Sona just... Can you read my mind?

Gentle eyes looked into Quinn's, but it was followed by silence. "Can you read my mind?" she said out loud.

"No. I can speak to people in their minds. It is very tiring."

She had wondered what Sona's voice would sound like, if she could speak. She also imagined it as smooth and calming as her presence, and she was correct. Quinn's mind, though, was still in a place of anger. "Don't waste it on me."

"You are weak right now, Quinn. I cannot ignore you when I can help."

"I don't deserve it."

"That is for me to decide. And in your condition, you couldn't refuse if you tried."

Now sitting in the middle of all the blankets that had encompassed her, Quinn felt vulnerable once again. Sona put one arm under Quinn's knees and another under her shoulders. Sona was shorter than Quinn, and less built, having a thin body that spoke of her work as a musician. But lift the ranger she did, and gently set her on the bed. This slender girl, who couldn't speak, picked her up and put her where she needed to be.

"Your skin is too soft to be lifting people."

"It is because my skin is so soft that it helps lift people."

As the Maven of the Strings retrieved her instrument, Valor pulled the sheets over Quinn, then snuggled against her side. The heat was nice, and she found her hand just resting on the eagle. Sona let the etwahl hover in front of her as her soft hand cradled Quinn's face. "I will help you through this. For now, rest."

Sona was as gentle as anybody could imagine, but she seemed a little forceful to Quinn. Like she was going to help her, damned what Quinn thought. "You're not as gentle as everybody thinks."

Sona chuckled, though no sound came out, and began to slowly pluck the strings of her instrument. Sleep claimed Quinn quickly.

Only candlelight illuminated the room, as it always was. The sun had risen, but the stone room was without windows. The four regarded each other.

"Talon is dead. Why are we meeting early?"

"We have to discuss the circumstances."

"You mean you want to have a discussion about this girl you have taken an interest in."

"She did succeed."

"By skill or luck? She tracks an assassin by not taking bolts for her crossbow, taking a weapon she hasn't used in years, and getting taken unawares by the assassin when she has a flying scout. These are not the actions of an ally I want."

"She is young and naive."

"She is also motivated."

"She also believes, with no proof, that it was not Talon. We need logical thoughts, not gut instinct."

"I have seen what is left. She may be right."

"Can it be proven?"

"Not without doubt."

"And you still want to ask her to join?"

"I do."

"What of when she learns of true Demacian justice and judgement? She will hesitate, if she does not expose us."

"We can keep that from her. Her heart is in the right place, and her skills are something we do not have. We can control what she sees and hears in these meetings."

"And when she learns the truth? She could ruin us."

"No more than any of us could."

"What else do we know about her outside of the military report?"

"She has no interest in men or women, or very little at the most. She is a guest at the Buvelle Estate under supervision of Ranger-General Captain Lestara Buvelle. Above all, her loyalty to Demacia is true. She is young, but that means she can be moulded and guided."

"She can be what we want her to be."

"To a degree. Most importantly, she's trustworthy. That cannot be ignored."

"How could you know she is trustworthy?"

"I spoke to her partner. I would know if he is lying."

"And would letting her be a part of this build that trust, or destroy it?"

"If we are careful, I believe she will help us."

"If we have to be careful, then she is weak."

"We cannot have strength without weakness. You know that. You overcame that."

"Yes, I did. That does not mean that she will."

"Some here questioned my invitation to you for similar reasons."

"I fought all my life to become who I am, she has not. Do not compare the mouse to the cat."

"She may not have killed to get here, but she has known failure, and loss. She will also not believe we are infallible. She can put us in check. Another view is not a bad thing, as her view of the world will be different from any that we have."

"What of the bird?"

"They are a package deal. Where one goes, the other must."

"Both would get the invitation, though I doubt the bird would decline if she accepts."

"I would not count an eagle among us."

"Don't discount him. He is intelligent, and would also help our insight."

"A Demacian eagle flying around may not be the best idea."

"No more than any of us being spotted. They are still an unknown quantity to the world."

"Enough delay. Are we are to vote to bring in a little girl and her pet bird?"

"We are to vote to bring in a woman and her partner."

"I wanted to make sure you realize how ridiculous this sounds."

"No different than a dragon."

"Touche."

"Is everybody in favour of inviting Quinn Venandi and Valor?"

"Aye."

"Nay."

"Aye."

"Aye. Three to one in favour."

"When she is ready, I will bring her. The choice has to be hers, and the consequences."

"As it always is."

Three days. Three long and gruelling days. Far as Quinn was concerned, they were the most physically draining days of her life, apart from the fact she wasn't entirely sure it had been three days.

The follow-up visit to the hospital was definitely on the first day after returning to the Buvelle Estate, that much was certain. With the help of Savannah, who Quinn swore had more patience than the entirety of Noxus on a good day, they returned to the hospital to have the nurses inspect her wounds. The bleeding had stopped and was healing well, but they still advised at least another five days of light activity before she would be back to full capacity.

Some walking was encouraged to get blood flowing and curb wanderlust, but mostly rest and relaxation was prescribed. When she asked about magic making the healing faster, the nurse had told her they could definitely do so, and she felt a wave of relief. Until they told her she would have to be in the hospital for three days minimum to do it so they could monitor any negative reactions. She shot that down very quickly; as much as her legs ached to be able to move freely, she didn't want to be in the hospital for those days. Trees, deer, and dirt were what she was used to, not the shining cleanliness of the hospital.

And so, somewhere around three days had passed, meaning it had been four days since the encounter with the assassin... or was it five? Keeping track of time wasn't easy, in her state.

When Savannah wasn't helping her walk – well, shuffle would be a more accurate description – she was in bed. And when she wasn't eating whatever the maids had brought her, she was sleeping or attempting to sleep. No matter the time, if she was tired, she tried to sleep. On many occasions, she had dozed with the sun up and awoken to the sun still being in the sky. She had no idea if a day or an hour had passed during those times, and they were frequent. For all she knew, a week had passed, the only thing telling her that was unlikely was the weakness still in her body.

It got better, even to a point where her talkative redhead helper could stand off to the side for a few moments as Quinn walked on her own, so she was making progress. She also thanked Sona for her musically-induced sleep, but asked her to stop doing so. That was difficult in and of itself: the music was beautiful, and falling asleep took minutes instead of hours, but whatever magic Sona used to help her slumber also dulled the pain. It made sense, but Quinn wanted to feel the pain so she could tell if her body was hurting in other places. It wasn't, and it was a good feeling to know she was healing well.

Healing in body. Not healing in mind.

The nightmare didn't return after that first night, but it also didn't need to. Most waking moments, it was all Quinn could do not to think about what she did to the assassin. Even if there were doubts in her mind about it being Talon, there was no doubt she murdered her target. It was slowly gnawing at her, yet she could physically do nothing about it. One day, her mind asked a devastating question: what would Caleb have thought? Her little brother had been a tracker, finding the targets, but those he tracked were animals for food or predators for practicing his hunting. He knew the necessity of killing, but always the killing of animals. He would be so ashamed of what she had done. And that seemed to sap any strength Quinn had been building up over the past however many days.

So there she was, buried in blankets, picturing the shameful look Caleb would be giving her, when Savannah burst into the room, damn near scaring her to death.

"Dammit, Savannah, knock first."

"Nope. Get your ass out of bed, we're going for a walk. Right now."

Between the mental exhaustion of imagining Caleb, and Savannah slamming the door open, Quinn was in no mood. "Later."

"Quinn Venandi, you will get your ass out of bed right now or I will kick it. Hard. With boots on. You need to walk today and now is a fine time to do it."

"It can wait."

Savannah gave her a glare. "Ass out of bed or foot in ass. Your choice."

A long groan escaped Quinn as she began to take the covers off. "What is your fixation with my ass right now?"

"Well, I try not to stare at it often, but it's a fine ass for a fine lass."

Eyes rolling, Quinn got out of bed. Savannah seemed to enjoy causing discomfort, because she never passed on an opportunity to make Quinn feel uncomfortable. But whenever they walked the streets of Demacia, she would flirt with basically everybody, male or female, so Quinn shrugged it off. She was used to it, even if she wasn't the biggest fan of it.

After spending more minutes then she would like getting her clothes on, she began to walk behind her guide. "You lead," Quinn said, "and then you don't get to stare at my ass."

Savannah nodded. "Deal."

"And please don't tell me we're visiting another memorial. If I see one more statue of a military person…"

She shook her head. "I have a particular place to take you to. It's going to be a longer walk than usual, but you can make it."

Quinn could feel the aches already forming in her legs at the statement. They were hurting much less than a couple days ago, but there were not in running form yet. Hell, the first day they had gone for a long walk, Quinn got to the point where her legs were moving, but she could barely feel them. To add to the strain, the tops of her feet hurt. The tops. She didn't know that you could strain the tops of your feet walking, but everything was new when it came to this amount of weakness.

So she trudged along behind Savannah, who was surprisingly quiet for the time being. Usually, she doubled as a physical aid and a tour guide, but there was only silence today. Quinn didn't mind. They had walked a great deal of Demacia City in their last treks, seeing parts of the city Quinn would have undoubtedly missed in her own point A to point B walks. Parks, memorials, sports grounds, educational centres, markets; they were plentiful, and it seemed like a vast majority of them were dedicated to some famous soldier or battle from bygones past. Demacia loved their battle history and military traditions. Anybody who spent more than ten minutes in the city would realize that. Such displays were everywhere.

But not so much today. They were in one of the less well-off neighbourhoods in the city. The people were not digging through garbages to survive, but they weren't living in the lavish estates and palaces of the ruling family and their closest allies, such as the Crownguards. Simple houses, one story or two, lined the streets with fences, small yards, and thick trees all around this part of town. Quinn enjoyed it. It was about as close to a forest in the big city she had seen thus far.

Another two blocks of walking saw them approach a single story house surrounded by a hedge high enough that Quinn could not see over it, or barely through its thick branches. Savannah opened the gate between the hedges and motioned for Quinn to follow.

"What's here?" Quinn said.

"This is an old house connected to the Lightshields. It's got a lot of history in it. I wanted to show it to you. I think you'll be surprised."

They entered the home to find it clean, tidy, and devoid of life. There was one couch and no chairs. Far as she could tell, there was only one enclosed room in the far right corner. There was an open kitchen at least, but while spotless, it looked like it hadn't been touched for quite some time. The only redeeming factors in the home were the beautiful but dirty tapestries hanging every couple of feet.

"Question, Savannah."

"Yes?"

"Where's the history? There isn't a thing in here. Except for some rugs on the walls."

"And that's the point."

She walked over to a tapestry depicting a marble arch, pulling out an intricate key from a chain around her neck.

It was like no key Quinn had ever seen before: instead of one row of teeth, it had four, and all at different angles. She put the key straight into the tapestry and turned it to the right, then left, then two more rotations to the right. A mechanism started to make sounds, with gears clicking and whirling. The tapestry slowly opened, taking a while to move, which allowed Quinn to realize it was a very heavily reinforced door hidden by the textile art. Combined with the unique key, it was a door that very few people could ever open by force.

Quinn looked at Savannah, whose grin hadn't left her face.

"I said you would be surprised. Follow me."

"No."

Savannah did a double take. "Why not?"

"You just opened some kind of unique door, hidden in an empty house which nobody can see because of the hedge outside. No way am I following you down there."

"Guess you didn't stay alive this long with blind trust. He was right: you're not some fool," Savannah said. "That's a much better attitude from you. I like it."

Quinn took a defensive stance, even though she knew that if Savannah attacked, there was no way she would win a fight. Usually her bodyguard was happy-go-lucky and borderline rainbows and lollipops. This was easily the most blunt she had ever been. And who was 'he'? Quinn had no men in her life. She began to back up towards the front door. "Will you let me leave if I refuse?"

"No."

"Will you kill me?"

Savannah laughed, her tone of voice deepening. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so while you couldn't walk on your own. Even now, you couldn't run away, no matter what threat I posed. So you may as well start down the stairs. I am your ally here, that I can promise."

"I don't believe you."

"Good. But you can't resist, so you may as well start walking."

Quinn swore in her mind: the redhead was right. If she fought, she would lose. It would not be possible to outrun her, and she had no weapons. She made a mental note to start bringing at least a dagger with her from now on as she went over her options once more and found them lacking. The stairs were the only option.

"Okay," Quinn said. "But you first. I don't want you out of my sight."

"You have to go first so I can shut the door. Then sure, I'll go in front."

Quinn went down a few steps as Savannah pulled the heavy door shut. She found the two of them in a plain stone passage with torches lighting the way. Stairs led farther than could be seen, descending into uncertainty.

"C'mon." Savannah caught her attention as they both started taking the stairs down. Quinn deliberately went slower, forcing the redhead to descend then wait for her to catch up. After a few rounds of this, Savannah finally turned her back. Mustering what strength Quinn could, she leapt down three steps, and aimed a kick between Savannah's shoulder blades.

Despite of all of her momentum, her foot stopped dead upon contact.

Savannah looked back at Quinn and sighed. "I applaud the effort, but you could never knock me over. At least you tried."

"Wait till I'm healed."

"I will. It won't change. Get moving."

Void of all options, she followed behind.

Minutes passed before they emerged in a plain stone hallway, another door at the end. Savannah gestured her to open it. Quinn leaned against the wall for a moment. "Can I have a breather first?"

"There are chairs in the room, you can rest there. You have some time before they arrive."

"Before who arrives?"

Savannah gave no reply.