'She's been in there for so long,' the Noxian guard tutted, droplets of sweat glistening on his forehead as he wrestled with his internal magus. 'We should go, sister. This is far too dangerous, and we are much more sorely needed elsewhere. I can't hold the ma-'

'Lath Rian Oune Vi Destani, my brother,' his comrade answered soothingly, her soft mezzo voice melting into his baritone worries. 'Our time will come. We cannot afford to miss this chance, and it is the Director's strict orders that we rescue her. Come on, Shen - reign in the magic just a little longer and our patience will be rewarded.'

'Don't call me that,' the Ionian replied dismissively, sucking in an aggressive breath. 'What did I tell you about using our alternative names? Wait – I hear someone coming. Be quiet.'

The irritable ninja and indignant kunoichi bit their tongues as the heavy door they were guarding swung open so abruptly that its rusty hinges squealed in protest. Out came the High Commander of Noxus, his razor-sharp cheeks sunken with stress as he jabbered away to the impassive Katarina on his heels. His wrinkled skin appeared to be puffed out by his rage.

'Someone's looking for Quinn?' he croaked angrily, his elongated fingers tapping furiously on his staff. Shen and Akali could sense the other freezing as his probing words hit too close to home. 'Who is it? Where are they? Do they know about…about our connection?'

'They're no longer at the embassy, as far as I know,' the ruby-haired assassin shrugged, her blatant indifference only serving to stoke the flames of Swain's fiery temper. 'It appears that the staff were unaware of our recent little acquisition, and so they sent away the enquirers without much interrogation. Darius overheard the staff discussing the incident and told me.'

'Well, what did they look like?' Swain thundered, placing his scaly hands on the assassin's upper arms in a vicelike grip and steering her around the corridor. He ignored the dangerous gleam of defiance that slithered into Katarina's eyes and began to shake her. 'Rina! I've no time for your games, girl! Who were they? This could ruin us if it gets out.'

'Don't touch me, Swain,' she spat through clenched teeth, glaring down at his pruned hands. 'Ever. Unlike my poor father, I've never been afraid of your wrath.'

The archmagi swore under his breath at the insolence, but he unrolled his taut hands from her shoulders and took to tapping his glinting staff in agitation. 'No one must know where she is. She must go under protection for now.' As Katarina rolled her eyes at his dramatic statement, it was the last straw for the commander. He smacked the wall and howled in frustration.

'You want to talk to me about lost family members, Ms. Du Couteau?' Swain growled, spittle coating his chin with the effort of keeping his scratchy voice down. 'You want to prattle on about your precious little daddy? What about my family! My poor Beatie, my innocent grandson – hell, even my Demacian son-in-law! I lost all of them because of your abhorrent, racist old man. Quinn is the only chance I have left at happiness, and she is the only legitimate heir left to this nation. I can't lose another family member to the ignorance of a Du Couteau. Show me that you are not him, Rina. I'm asking for you to help me.'

'So insulting my father is how you were going to secure my help?' Katarina muttered coldly, her emerald irises sparkling like poison ivy. 'I serve Noxus, Swain, not you. I am not afraid to die at your feet. It would be a relief in many ways, I assure you.'

'I'd rather keep you alive and watch you lose your mind over the fact that the man who raised you was capable of murdering a young family in cold blood,' the commander spat, though he was too enraged by the situation to relish the pain that flit across the assassin's glassy eyes. His own whiskery eyebrows raised as he made to step around her and she blocked his step. 'What the hell do you think you're doing? Katarina, get out of-'

Swain made to sidestep the hurting assassin once more, but she matched his lurch forward. Her emerald eyes were startling as they appeared to be swimming with rare tears, but they soon snapped shut as the commander lifted his hand and smacked her hard across the face. Katarina clutched her crunched nose, stunned at the unexpected blow, and even the commander froze as he realised what he had done. The fleeting regret in his eyes, however, was soon replaced with malice. Firmly wrapping his cloak tighter around his neck, he ignored the hunched figure and stormed upstairs. Katarina sat down, the adrenaline of their confrontation sapped from her wiry body, and she sagged against the stone wall as her fingers gingerly probed her bleeding nose. Shen wanted to shout out as he saw Akali instinctively walk to check on her, but his blood ran cold as the incapacitated assassin spoke first.

'I know who you both are,' she managed to wheeze out of the blood she was choking on. 'I spotted you both sneaking into the training school yesterday – the Ionian magic comes off you in waves, ninja. I know who you're both here for. Take her and run. Now.'

Akali tensed, looking across in panic to Shen at Katarina's omniscience, but he simply shook his head and stooped down to Katarina. 'Are you alright?'

'I will be,' she gargled, unsuccessfully trying to stem the flow until Akali handed her a cloth.

'Thanks,' she replied in a muffled voice, straightening back up the wall as she turned to address the majority of the Kinkou with as much authority as she could muster. 'Now go and get her. She's at the party in there – use the embassy protection excuse to take her away. I won't let another one fall prey to Swain's ambitions if I can avoid it. He had the chance to fix this years ago if he had only let Beatie marry the man she loved.'

Puzzled at her cryptic musing, but thankful for her blessing, the kunoichi squeezed her thin shoulder and lifted the mask briefly to bring her curious brown eyes level with the shorter assassin. 'How can we trust you, Noxian?'

'I've not raised the alarm yet, have I?' the assassin pointed out with a rare laugh, her green eyes glittering above the purple bruises blossoming beneath them. She dropped her voice low, catching eye contact with the magical ice blue irises now blazing from underneath Shen's helmet. 'I don't want to live in this Noxus anymore. I'm sure you don't want to live in the Ionia you're in now. Save the girl and you'll save us all. I can help you, I promise.'

Akali threw a concerned glance at Shen, who simply tilted his head towards the door in a warning of their time, and she slipped her helmet back on before catching hold of Shen.

'Take her to the Duchess. The Noxians will speak of treason the minute they know that we've had inside help, and they'll kill her when they find out. Katarina,' she added quietly, noting the twitched muscle in the assassin's jaw which showed that she did not like being told what to do. 'Pack your things and go with Shen. We will need to take you into Ionian custody to make it seem as if you have been captured, rather than give them the idea that you are working with us. It's too much of a coincidence otherwise.'

'Can't I just help you here?' Katarina mused, her eyes creased with uncertainty. 'I'll be able to deflect the blame. It's the story of my life, after all. I'd also rather not see-'

'We also need to take you because, well…' the kunoichi hesitated, her brown eyes flitting between Shen and the assassin before pressing on, 'our nations are at war with each other, as much as we don't want them to be. If you go with us, we know you can't be instigating anything here. We can also protect you better there than we can here.'

'I suppose that makes sense,' she grunted, unable to argue with the firm logic as she sighed, beckoned to Shen and began to make her way up the opposite steps to those that Swain had travelled down. She turned to peer over her shoulder, her red hair glistening like a bloody waterfall over her slender back. 'Good luck, Ionian. I hope this all works out.'

Akali nodded her thanks, though her stomach failed to unclench as she watched her Kinkou comrade ascend the steps with the enemy. Her hand paused on the doorknob, she finally twisted it and braced herself as she stepped into the festivities, though most of the guests had started to drift outside to watch the exotic twilight streaking the skies. She ignored the jollities and whoops of laughter wafting from outside as she scanned the revellers, frowning as she could not locate the ranger among them. What concerned her, too, was that the hulking great Noxian captain also was not there, even though she heard them fighting earlier as Shen and herself had kept watch on the other side of the door. Was she with him? She picked her way through the drunken crowd, trying not to make eye contact with any of them, but she froze as she realised certain, less intoxicated members of the room were gazing down curiously at her hands. She looked at them herself, alarm drumming through her veins as she clocked Katarina's crimson blood streaked across them, and she excused herself as she tried to make her way to the lavatories.

Akali's bloodied hand gripped the normal handle, but as a man stepped out of the other door and gawked at her forceable entry to the ladies, she stepped back as if the handle was crackling with electricity. Of course, she was wearing male armour. 'Sorry,' she growled as low as she could make her voice, and the man held the men's door open for her as she took it from him. Sliding through into the men's toilet with a strange thrill and slight revulsion at the taboo territory, she tore her eyes away from unfamiliar urinals and hurried over to the sink to wash the incriminating blood off her hands.

'Those are rather small hands for a man, aren't they?'

The teasing words dribbled anxiously down her spine as she ignored the figure lurking in the shadows behind the cubicles. 'Don't be personal,' she rasped, drying her hands as best she could in order to get away and find Quinn. 'I know what to do with them, so don't push me.'

She hoped she sounded threatening, but was disturbed by the sinister laugh that greeted her masculine assertion. 'I'm sure you do. But maybe, as a Noxian soldier, you should use them to cut your hair. Pretty sure you're breaking the rules by a good few inches.'

'Whuh-' Akali started, looking up into the cracked mirror perched just above the sinks, but her heart flurried as she spotted her long, brunette locks peeking out from her newly-replaced helmet. She took a deep breath and went to flick the rest of the water droplets from her hands, until she caught sight of the man behind her in the mirror. Her pupils dilating in terror, she immediately spun round as her sinister companion slid into the moonlight. She gasped as his glittering beetle's eyes fixed curiously upon her, but it was the familiar geometric mask that clung to his face which unsettled her gut. As the figure stepped closer to her, she took several steps back but was not fast enough as one leather-clad hand latched onto her forearm.

'Get off me!' she shrieked, begrudging the feminine shriek she emitted whilst throwing down a heavy step to crush his feet, but he simply side-stepped her aggression and twirled her to face him. She shuddered as he pressed his lips to her neck, bending her over the sink as if locked in a lover's embrace, and crooned at her.

'I did think that voice was a little bit too high for one of Swain's minions,' he whispered softly, holding her still as she flinched to get away from him. 'A little too… Ionian, as well. But, my God, is it wonderful to hear a bit of home after so many years. It's music to my ears.'

'Khada…?' the kunoichi gasped, wrestling desperately against the virtuoso's unyielding grip. 'This isn't possible! I thought you were dead. We all did!'

'Bad news, my little lotus flower,' Jhin laughed harshly, catching her palms with one hand as he slipped off her helmet with the other. Black eyes met brown as his breath hitched, the criminal's eyes roving across the kunoichi's exposed face. His sneering expression softened as he laid his eyes on her. 'Akali, my darling… you came back for me. I knew you would.'

'Khada!' she protested fearfully, her eyes darting to the door as she squirmed; he buried his nose into her chocolate locks and inhaled her scent. 'No, I'm not here for – look, let go of-'

'You're just going to turn me away?' he whined, grazing her trembling jaw with the wooden nose of his mask. 'I don't want to let you go again, sweet one. It's been far too long since I could soak your beauty in. I missed you, Kal…'

'Khada, listen to me!' she cried, but she wheezed as his strong body crushed hers against the sink. 'Let go of me; what are you doing? Stop it! I need to be somewhere-!'

'Don't fight me, my love…' he groaned, the darkened coal of his eyes boring into hers. 'You made me this way, remember? This is a monster of your own creation. This-' he added, taking hold of her hand and holding it anxiously to his chest, 'was broken because of you.'

'You're ill, Khada,' she whispered fearfully, her light brown eyes flecked with regret. 'And you're wrong. I was there for you when no one else was. I did what I could to help you.'

'Well, I wish you hadn't bothered,' he suddenly spat, the manic glint in his eye unravelling her as his hand roved up to her throat. 'Then perhaps I never would have had to feel at all.'

I I I

'The Noxians normally record every Demacian to cross its borders, whether they're a King or a coalminer.' Xin panted, a spot of sweat gleaming on his throbbing temple as he gesticulated back towards the Demacian embassy. 'This is a wild goose chase, Sire.'

'It always is,' Jarvan muttered darkly, thankful that he had ditched his cumbersome armour in Demacia. The convoluted route they had taken to avoid detection was taking its toll even on their well-conditioned bodies, and he ignored the blisters gnashing at his foot. 'She could be miles away by now, but we've no way of knowing. What a waste of time.'

'Well, not entirely,' Xin countered thoughtfully, lifting his long hair off his clammy neck. 'I've been in Noxus long enough to know when those bastards are telling the truth, and I believe that the embassy staff genuinely did not know who Quinn was. Think about it - why would they know, anyway? If the public were aware that Quinn is half Demacian and could potentially take over the nation upon Swain's demise, there'd be rioting in the streets. There was enough unrest when Swain took over because of his Vastayan heritage.'

'Either way, we're running out of options,' the Exemplar murmured, glaring up at the spectre of the Bastion perched on the bloodred rocks above. 'Who knows what they've done to her? We know that snake freak hurt her badly enough for Karma to write to me about it.'

'Please don't, my Prince,' Xin implored, his intense brown eyes creasing in pain. 'We'll act on impulse and not with logic if we don't exercise caution.'

'Where has logic ever got us over our instincts, Seneschal?' Jarvan sniffed, seizing hold of the Seneschal as he dragged them both into a nearby alleyway. 'Logic suggested that we simply let the Ionians and Noxians hash things out between themselves. Logic dictated that I was going to be stuck in a loveless marriage; that I should be a father to children whose mother I was apathetic to at best, and somehow keep the happy family together. Logic kept both of us from telling the woman we loved how we felt before she fell into the diseased bowels of Noxus. You know I'm right, Xin,' he urged, sensing his right-hand man's discomfort and pulling him back closer to redirect his manic energy at him. 'Had we followed our hearts, at least two of us would have been happy - and all three of us would have been safe!'

'Instinct also nearly got both of us killed here at some point or other,' the Seneschal answered quietly. 'I have no desire to replicate either of those experiences if we can help it.'

Jarvan frowned for a moment but then began to smile, an amused twinkle radiating in his steel-grey eyes. 'Sometimes I think you speak more like a real prince than I do, Xin,' he chuckled under his breath.

The smile leaked into the light weather lines around his eyes, and Xin could not help but smile back. It soon withered, however, as a sickeningly familiar sound howled into the Noxian air: the Fleshing horn. The Seneschal felt his knees involuntarily buckle and he stumbled towards the ground. Jarvan's startled questions bled into meaningless sounds as the wounded sound clawed at his core: suddenly he could smell coppery blood and hear the frenzied thumping of the crowd as he knelt forth. He instinctively flinched away from the hand grasping at his shoulder and could see her again. Tears began to well in Xin's eyes as he recalled the time he had lied about her to Quinn, because the truth was far too painful for the woman he now loved to ever know.

'Did you ever have to fight a woman, Xin?'

'Yes.'

'What happened?'

'I refused. One of the guards kicked me squarely in the jaw for my disobedience and I lost two teeth and it fractured my jaw. I remember staring up at him, dazed, mouth slackened, but I didn't blink once. That was when I saw a flash of fear in his eyes. I think he thought I'd submit then. Then the orchestrator...that's the guy who organises the Fleshing...stepped in and called for me to be ejected from the arena. I remember the crowd started booing at the lack of entertainment as four guards escorted myself and the woman away, so one of them held back and then stabbed the women through the heart just for the hell of it. Just so that people would keep buying tickets to the Fleshing.'

'Oh, Xin...'

'I will never forget how hope slithered from her eyes. I think she had a plan to get out – a crazy, improbable plan to get back to her babies – who knew what she was planning, or if it would have worked? But the death of that optimism was even more horrible to watch than her physical demise.'

'I don't think I could love you any more than I do now, Xin. You are so brave. I hate what they did to you. But you didn't let them win. You survived, and now they'll be sorry that they ever crossed you.'

Xin slumped onto the ground, now ignoring the firm hands that yanked his dead weight as he thought back to his dead lover. They had met in prison - the Noxians did not believe in separating criminals by sex – and soon fell in love. Xin had been imprisoned for being unable to prove his nationality, whilst she had been incarcerated for having tried to steal bread for her two children. She had nervously told Xin of their existence during the twenty minutes' physical exercise they both had together each day, and he had just laughed it off and said they would both just have to add to the brood once they got out. She was a Noxian and the nameless fighter never thought he would fall for a woman from this godforsaken land. Yet, despite her bedraggled appearance and brusque manner, she was the prettiest girl he had ever set his eyes on; her inner strength and defiance upgraded that picturesque complexion into beauty, and Quinn reminded him a lot of her. They were caught kissing one day and both were convicted of breaking the country's purity laws; the fact that the father of his lover's children were with a prestigious Noxian nobleman, meanwhile, soon aggravated the harsh treatment of her. It was the stupid, impulsive, amazing kiss he had planted on her that had sealed her doom. The kiss of death. His hands burnt as if her blood was still on them.

'For fuck's sake, Xin, please,' a desperate voice pleaded, and his shadowy eyes swam back into conscious as he caught sight of the Prince tending to him, the previous ease around his eyes having formed into squiggles of worry and anger. 'Wake up. They'll get suspicious.'

'I'm here,' he mumbled back, sitting up dazedly as he took in the narrow alleyway Jarvan had dragged him into. 'Jarvan, I'm sorry. I-'

'Doesn't matter,' he replied tersely, checking the Seneschal's forehead and being more alarmed by the river of tears spilling down his soldier's cheeks. 'Xin? What is it?'

'I'm sorry,' he sobbed huskily. 'I just hoped I'd never hear that noise again.'

Jarvan rubbed his back, his handsome features wrinkled into a flesh question mark before he understood what Xin was referring to. 'Oh God…no, I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that.'

'It's fine, Sire,' the soldier exhaled huskily, drying his eyes hastily with the balls of his fists. 'I know you need someone you can depend on. I'm sorry for disappointing you. I'm weak.'

'You don't think I didn't bawl my eyes out every night for weeks after I got out, do you?' Jarvan replied warmly, though a flicker of pain coursed through his eyes. 'This place really does fuck you up. It's fine to admit that. I'd be more worried if you weren't affected.'

Xin could not contain the shiver which juddered down his spine at the order, and he swore at himself under his heavy breath: he knew that Jarvan, too, had suffered greatly at the heart of the Noxians, and felt pathetic at the involuntary terror that had gripped his bowels. He looked over to Jarvan and marvelled at the stoic and determined expression on his prince's face. As a young, inexperienced teen, the Exemplar nearly did not return from battle during the Kumungu Campaign. It was only with the timely intervention of Garen and his closest Vanguard personnel, who had discovered the young Jarvan rotting at the brink of death at a neighbouring citadel, that he was still alive today. The dour and reserved Xin felt as though the trauma of his capture showed in every line on his own face, and the painful memories had seeped into every silver scar on his back. But he felt it was different with Jarvan: he carried his trauma as strength, not isolation, and Xin envied him for it. That was what would truly make him a fitting king for Demacia in the future – and a leader needed to be supported by someone worthy of him. He turned to Jarvan and uncharacteristically seized his chest. Jarvan was taken aback by the break in protocol by the usually professional and discreet Seneschal, but he leant forward and supported the woozy soldier. 'What, Xin? Where does it hurt? Shall we call this off?'

'You should be with Quinn,' Xin blurted out, unapologetically finding the Prince's widened grey eyes. 'Anything I love ends up dead. That woman at the Fleshing I told you about? She was my lover. I got her killed. I should have deflected the blame and said it was all on me. The next time I saw her was in the arena as my opponent – the last time I heard that horn. I don't think I can keep going, Sire. I feel like I'm going to fall apart, I'm sorry, you didn't ask for this, I didn't know I'd be like th-'

'Xin!' Jarvan exhaled sharply, a lump forming in his dry throat, 'you didn't kill her. The Noxians did. You could love again - I know you're capable of it. Quinn needs you right now. I need you. Please, man, just keep it together for one-'

'You don't get it! I can't do it!' the Seneschal lamented, trying to dam the tirade of suppressed emotions threatening to burst out. 'I'll just get you killed if I'm like this, Sire.'

'You can't leave me,' Jarvan urged him, gripping the Seneschal firmly, his eyes shining the colour of knives. 'I am my grandfather's legacy. You owe it to him, at the very least, to keep going. I can't do this alone, Xin. Help me get to Quinn. That's an order.'

'I'll help to get you out of Noxus, but I'm not taking another step towards the Bastion,' Xin responded sadly, his eyes swimming with tears. 'I have to go.'

'This…this is treason, Xin,' Jarvan whispered frantically, running his fingers frantically through his tangled mane. 'The Court would have me slay you on the spot!'

'Then do it.' A clang of metal juddered through Jarvan as Xin's knife clattered to the floor. He outstretched his arms and faced his commander.

'I cannot think of a more honourable death than to die at your sword.'