(One week later)
{Analogue Dear, Yvette Young-Rivulets}
She took a moment to observe her surroundings as she walked the gangway of the ship. Soldiers marched off of all three wooden war boats that had moored in the Ionian capital harbour. The Piltovian flags fluttered wildly about, snapping the material as the great white sails were folded and tied by Demacian sailors.
Beside her, Matais studied the folder in his hand for what seemed to be the thousandth time since he had first opened it at the beginning of their journey. The two soldiers had shared a small one and a half meter by two-meter rectangle that was placed on the very last level of the ship. To put it lightly, the cramped space of swinging hammocks, and suffering through seasickness had made Dakota quite irritated with the Ionian. Slowly through the week, Matais's mannerisms and habits started to vex her already frayed nerves. How many times did one need to read through everything at least five times before putting something down and then entering into the calm nirvana of muttering meditation?
For Matais?
Practically every day.
Her annoyance grew to the point that if the man started biting at his nails or would start reading to himself as he concentrated on texts, she would feel like exploding.
How did Alex spend most of his time with the Ionian?
During the nights, plagued either with Insomnia or seasickness, she would stare at the ceiling of the slatted wood, listening to the quiet snores of the sleeping troops above her. To add more to her annoyance, Matais would talk incessantly about ensuring she took the necessary steps to follow meditation and mindfulness so that she could sleep and avoid nightmares. Meanwhile, during the day, she would escape to the deck to either train with some of the new batch of inexperienced and cocky infantry soldiers or volunteer to help maintain the deck while she tried to teach herself to have better sea legs. Many upset stomachs later she had started to at least get a hang of being on the sea by the time they had finally wayed anchor in the harbour.
Now, inwardly, she bows down to the earth and kisses it.
Matais follows behind her, their leather boots slapping against the bamboo dock. Soldiers follow commands as their units place themselves in formation and make their way to their Ionian base.
"We'll make our way to camp first, hmm?" Dakota suggested as she watched the infantry soldiers she had trained with try to keep in time with their squadmates. Many of the new forces were either new orphans or volunteers that had decided to take up arms and don the gray uniform jackets proudly. Dakota knew that these poor unfortunate souls and their lack of experience most likely would not last long on a battlefield. Training with them, however, had given her enough solace to stop thinking about them.
The Piltovian girl wished them luck.
Matais sucked on his teeth as he pulled out the map Caitlyn had given them and gave a screwed expression to it. "I believe it would be more reasonable if we make our way toward the Ionian Council Senate first. We should introduce ourselves to our new commander and gain some instruction first. They may want us to bunk with them rather than us taking our assigned tent at the base."
Dakota nodded as she tightened the straps to her rucksack and wiggled to make it feel a bit more comfortable on her back. "Lead the way then."
Matais gave a small smirk as he began to take them out of the dockyard. "I am glad that you are less annoyed."
The young soldier rolled her eyes to the twenty-four year old. "I like my space."
Matais gave a silent chuckle in reply.
The Ionian capital was an incredible sight of waterfalls and high pillared buildings carved into the stone faces of cliffs. The sea breeze coming off of the port and harbour brought fresh scents of fresh salty air and whisked away some of the humid jungle air that had threatened to make breathing feel like drinking water. People milled their way through the area, most were sailors lifting heavy crates off of the boats or merchants selling their goods to harbour masters. Fishmongers called out in a language that Dakota couldn't understand. It was a silky, low toned language with sharp consonants and even sharper vowels. As the mage and the soldier walked more into the city, the scenery changed as fishing huts made of bamboo and tree roots turned into the cliffside entrances of the carved city she had seen from the harbour. Beautiful cherry blossom trees and fir trees lined the walkways with gorgeous white flowered vines crawling up some of the walls of the buildings. Massive dark orange tenting hung above their heads, covering over some of the street ways. Vendors called out with goods and jewelry shining brightly in the late morning light. Flocks of large colourful reptilian birds watched as they perched themselves on the tree root arches and market tents, quirking their heads to the lines of soldiers in curiosity. Some flew by the massive waterfalls bordering some of the city, crashing into the water and coming out victoriously with fish.
Young children watched from the doorways of their stone and tree root homes as the soldiers of Piltover company marched through their streets. They jovially called out and waved, some weaved in and out of the formation lines, some even mimicked the marching and followed beside the gray jacket soldiers. The adults of the capital bowed low in respect, while others cheered loudly. For a country that was facing mass invasion, the people of the capital seemed like they weren't afraid of the fact that Noxus was practically knocking at their doors.
Matais led them up through a tight street way, where large reptilian creatures snapped their tongues out into the air to grab at flies swarming at their eyes. Their scales gave a bright multicoloured sheen as she walked by their long flat toed legs. It surprised her to see such creatures strapped to carts, pulling either people or goods. Sure, she had experienced the oxen and the large dark green and black birds that the Demacians had used. But these monstrosities actually made her nervous.
"My father had one of them. They can be quite a useful mean of transportation." Matais remarks as he feels the girl's energy shift. He wasn't the only one to sense it as one of the creatures tried to snap at her as she walked by one.
Its yellow slitted eyes bore into the soldier's soul as she quickly lunged back and ducked a fast-moving tongue. She caught a patron who she had bumped into and gave a quick apology as the reptile continued to glare at Dakota. The patron gives a scoffed word in Ionian before she brushed off Dakota's hands and pushed the soldier away.
Matais helps out by saying a few quick words before he grabs the soldier by her rucksack and pulls her away.
"Those bloody things are mental." Dakota hissed. "Why use them? They are like miniature dinosaurs."
"They are called nuwuns. They are a species that is well adapted to the steep terrain of our cities. They are also much better to work in the summer heats than an ox or the camelus birds. They wouldn't last a day in this kind of humidity and pulling up steep inclines at a different sea level." The Ionian explains. "My mother was always quite good with the nuwuns. I used to be just as afraid as you until she taught me how to be more comfortable with them. It is all about being in control and calm."
"I am not afraid." The teenager snaps. "They just surprised me is all. But thank you for the tip, I'll do my best not to make them attack me."
"It could be a good way to help you understand mindf-"
"If you say mindfulness one more time, I might hit you." Dakota grumbles as she keeps her clenched knuckles around the straps of her rucksack.
The busy side streets, turn into a narrow alleyway that leads into the view of a grand granite building that was supported by giant chiselled columns. Dark red pagodas surrounded the giant building, waterfalls streamed through their gate openings making small delicate rainbows form over the cascading water. The square that bequeathed the pagodas were plastered with beautiful mosaic tiles of water lilies and cherry blossoms. The young soldier became entranced with the exuberant colours and took a moment to walk around it.
Everyone had mentioned how mysteriously beautiful Ionia could be, but it wasn't until now that Dakota finally realized she could never have imagined how breathtaking it truly was.
"I missed the presence of magic so much," Matais sighs. A warm smile spreads through his thin lips as he places his arms out at his sides and takes a large breath. "You can smell it, it is that strong."
Dakota observed as his vine tattoos seemed to pulse in time with his big deep breaths. She gives a nonchalant sigh. The soldier was just starting to get slightly comfortable with magic. Sure, it has proven to be quite handy when it came to Matais slinging bolts of energy and using his skills to help her heal. However, the thought of Ionia's rumoured wild magic made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Those who could wield its power were never to be trifled with and this reminded her that all mages should be seen as wild cards.
Matais included.
It wasn't that she didn't trust him. Voids it gives her shivers thinking that way about the Ionian. He would never harm her. Not in a million years.
And rather than being just with Matais, one of only a handful of mages she had met before, there was now an increase of meeting more that could either be on their side or be their enemy.
"You are quiet." Matais blinks as he looks to the girl. "Are you uncomfortable?"
She did feel uncomfortable, but she would never admit that to the man before her. "Let's get moving. I would very much like to get this over with so I can at least clean myself up and get settled in."
The Ionian nods before he leads them to the stone stairs that trail upwards to the senate. Groups of white-robed figures made their way down the scaling steps. Some carefully eyed the two soldiers, while others paid them no mind.
It takes them a while to make it up the hundreds of stairs. In all honesty, the humidity didn't help as the late morning sun turned into a blazing hot noonday death ball. Dakota was sure that she had sweat through all of the liquid in her body as they finally made their way to the top. Her back felt sticky as her rucksack made it feel like it had turned into an oven rather than a normal working body part.
"I don't remember it being this squelching." The young man pants as he drags the sleeve of his robe across his soaked forehead.
Dakota replies with an icy glare.
"Welcome, how may we help you?" A voice calls, catching their attention.
The young soldier finally stands straight as she nods toward the short figure of a woman. She had to be in her late sixties as crow's feet and laugh lines started to mould the shape into her tan skin. Her long white hair was held together with dark green vines and orange lilies. She wore a deep purple tunic with a pure white toga that hung over her pear-shaped body and was cinched at her waist with a gold belt.
Dakota couldn't help but notice that the woman was barefoot.
"I am sergeant Sampson with the Fifty-first of Piltover company. We were instructed to meet our new commander here at your council's senate."
Matais gave a mutter of Ionian toward the old woman who gave a crinkly eyed smile to the mage. Her almond-shaped ochre hues regarded him with such kindness as she gave a reply in his native tongue.
She then turned a soft smile to Dakota.
"We have been patiently waiting for your arrival. Please follow me." The woman gave a joyous spin as she skipped her way down the path that led to a pillared building. She grabbed at a cherry blossom, cupping it daintily in her weathered hands before she bent her head low to whisper words into the flower. A small breeze smelling of the salty seas and freshness from the waterfalls gently carried the flower away.
Dakota watched stoically as it disappeared into the confines of the senate.
They made their way through the granite giant, passing by a few people who wore the same regalia as the old woman. They passed by a large marble sculpture of a great vined tree that hung low stone leaves over their heads. The young soldier tried to keep her jaw shut as best she could as she passed by the many other masterpieces depicting the nature and people of Ionia.
They ended up in a courtyard covered in a multitude of different vegetation. A small pond had laid in the center of the courtyard. Orange and white koi swam to and fro gobbling up at any of the insects that had found their way into the waters. A single pink leafed tree hung almost like a Piltovian willow tree, over the pond. Standing at its base with her front facing the arrivals of her senate, was the enlightened one of Ionia and the commander of the Ionian guard standing protectively beside her.
A cherry blossom sat in the palm of the enlightened one's hand. Her heart-shaped face regarded the two with a calming smile. A gold crown laid upon her dark brown locks, a small emerald was laid in the middle with intricate designs swirling around the stone. She was wearing a deep violet and moss green robe that circled around her waist and hung loosely around her carnelian shoulders.
"Hello, Sargent Sampson, Sargent Jaeson. I am the enlightened one and the avatar of Ionia. I've have been told many good things about you."
Matais bowed deeply and Dakota followed suit, trying her best to mimic the action, much to her rucksack's complaints as it threatened to topple the teen over.
"It is an honour to meet you, your grace," Matais replied as he watched Dakota regain her balance and straighten her spine with a hidden cough.
"Your commander, the captain of the guard," The Enlightened One introduced the guard captain, who gave a slight bow. Her long velvet black hair hung over her proudly held shoulders. Her stern facial features regarded the two soldiers with calculated reserve. Her lake blue pools locked with Dakota momentarily.
"You're a child." The woman spoke matter-of-factly.
The Piltovian took a moment to be offended before she swallowed it down. She was going to be professional as she stood to attention and tilted her chin up. "Compared to your soldiers that's very true. However, I am a decorated Veteran with enough successful missions to prove my age isn't a disadvantage."
The Enlightened One drew her eyebrows down in concern.
However, the guard captain seemed impressed with that answer. "I have your first orders for an assignment. Before we get to that, I would like to take you through a few training sessions so that I can gauge your abilities. However, I feel we should have you two settled. You have board at the Piltovian camp, correct?"
"Yes," Dakota replied.
Irelia hummed. "Excellent. Our barracks are currently filled with new recruits and sadly, we do not have much room to spare."
A cleared throat caught the attention of the two women. Irelia turned to the two figures who bowed to the captain before coming forward into the sunlight and out of the shade of the senate hall. They both greeted the enlightened one with a deeper bow before they stood beside Irelia.
"I'd like for you two to meet your new unit members." The Enlightened One directed her lithe fingers to present the two figures. They both had their chins tipped up as they regarded the soldier and the mage.
Dakota's metaphorical hackles rose at the thought of having new unit members. Sure many hands make light work, but the last thing she needed was being slowed down by people who could not be on the same page as her. She scrutinized the two figures with icy observant hues.
One of them was a young man who was at least the same height as Dakota. He was in a sleeveless dark blue tunic showing off the cord-like muscle of his forearms. His long legs were covered in the loose styling of bohemian pants. White ink had trailed up the olive-toned skin of his right arm, swirling in intricate designs and sharp ninety-degree angles. A sleek bow poked out from his back as the strap of a quiver crossed his broad chest. His sepia brown dreadlocks were tied up into a tight ponytail, revealing freshly shaven sides of his black hair. His almond-shaped flaxen coloured eyes locked on to Dakota. A burlap sailor's sack was held tightly in his left hand.
Beside him was a tall languid creature. To Dakota, this was one of the 'girls' Vi had warned her about. She looked human, that was for sure. Her dark chestnut hair was wrapped in a swirling bun made of braids, strands of loose bangs fell to frame her oval-shaped face. Her slim shoulders were wiry with promising toned muscle. She was in the same sleeveless outfit as her compatriot, revealing tawny unscarred arms with swirling red koi tattoos that curled around her right arm and to her long neck. Her right hand clenched tightly to the hilt of a parang machete that had been strapped to her narrow hips, while her left also clenched the same kind of bag as her comrade. Her cupid's bow lips were a thin line as she inspected the young soldier.
Her eyes though, they were complete pitch onyx as they stared deeply into the soul of Dakota Sampson. This was the telling sign for the soldier, letting her know that there was definitely something not human about her. If it wasn't for the amount of heat she suffered from being in her gray jacket she would have sworn she was naked with how mentally stripped she had been.
"I would like for you two to meet Tai," She gestured to the young man. Dakota reached out and clasped his hand, giving a firm shake before she let go. His hands were probably more calloused then hers would ever be in her entire life. It was like touching the porous lava rock that she and Elric had found years ago on a Demacian beach. "And Kaia."
Dakota extended her hand to the young woman, who squinted to the soldier. She glared at the outstretched arm before she extended her own. Her slim fingers seemed a lot smaller in Dakota's right hand. Something in the soldier's gut told her to watch her back before she broke the handshake and kept her attention to the guard captain.
"Your assignment will begin at the end of your training. While you four wait to be deployed I would suggest becoming well acquainted with each other. You will be sharing a tent at the Piltover base to help alleviate our population issues as we construct more barracks space. You have time to train and gain a team bond through the small language barrier."
"Language barrier?" Dakota's eyebrows knit in worry.
"I speak a little of common." Tai piped up. His voice surprised Dakota as she expected it to be a deep low tone. Instead, it was almost hawkish in a medium range. "Kaia, not so much."
The young soldier took a large breath as she looked to Matais who shrugged toward her. "You will have to teach me."
Tai perked up suddenly. He excitedly spoke Ionian to the mage who gave a wide smile and replied back. He then turned his attention to the Piltovian.
"It is a very difficult language. You will have to be very studious." He warned.
"I don't have much of a choice," Dakota muttered.
She couldn't help but observe that Kaia had kept her soul gazing stare locked on to her the entire time.
Voids above and hells below, this would definitely throw a wrench in her plans to start searching for Illya.
"How does one say 'stop staring at me' in Ionian."
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{Oh Hellos- Dear Wormwood}
(two days later)
"You don't have to do this, Vi."
The brawler rocked back on her heels slightly. She gave her iconic side smile before waving off the sheriff's concerns.
"I know, Cupcake, but I have some things I gotta settle with her first." She winked as she dug her left grease-covered hand into her Piltover Police uniform pant's pockets.
Caitlyn watched her carefully, raising an eyebrow to the pinkette, who fiddled with a loose thread poking out at the bottom of her white tank top. The thing about Vi is that it is natural for her to hide her emotions behind a wide troublesome smirk and a bravado matching the national pride of the Demacian army. She'd rather be the solid rock for someone to cling on.
But Vi has tells, just like a bad poker face. It took Caitlyn a while to recognize when Vi was feeling like she needed to hide her insecurities. But like all things, she learned.
It starts with the fidgeting, then goes to her avoiding eye contact, digging her hands in her pockets, and in the worst cases Vi would put something behind her ear to hold it against her head like she used to do with cigarettes.
The Sheriff nodded solemnly as she moved out of the way of the interrogation room door. "I'll be right behind the two-way mirror. I can still try to talk to her."
"Nah, Cait. She asked to only speak with me. It's really no biggie." Vi chuckled as she reached for the door handle. "I can tell this won't take long."
Caitlyn crossed her arms over her chest as she watched Vi enter into the room and take a seat in front of the criminal.
It still surprises her. After years of chasing false leads and surviving explosions, they had finally caught her.
Vi leaned languidly back against the chair, resting her left forearm along the back of the chair. Even now, Caitlyn can pick up on the nervous ticks; the way her foot bounces, the way her fingers drum along the metal top of the interrogation table, the way she sets her shoulders wide to seem bigger.
The guard brought Jinx into the interrogation room, making Vi pause in her nervousness. The bluette was placed in the seat across from the brawler looking so small and defeated in the mauve prison uniform. Her blue braids had been buzz cut clean off her head, making the brawler's hackles rise in anger. Whoever the hell did that to her, was going to get a mouthful of metal. The bluette's pale skin almost seemed translucent in the humming buzz of a halogen hex bulb light watching Vi's jaw pull taut in agitation.
"So, what's so important that you gotta pull me away from working on my tech?" Vi growled lowly, trying her best to figure out who had been on incarceration duty that had the guts to do that to her. She eyes the guard warily, making him divert his gaze to his boots. "I can handle her. Get out of here." The brawler muttered toward the officer.
He clicks his boots together before silently leaving Vi and Jinx alone in the room.
"You were right, fat hands." The skinny woman pouted. Her bright pink eyes seemed to dim.
Vi rose a scarred eyebrow, pulling her out of her irritation. "About what?"
"I miss fish bones and zap and pow pow. And that mean stinky metal man is off being a real bad guy. And my cellmate is crazy." The pyromaniac began. She linked her fingers together and placed her folded hands along the top of the metal table. "She was one of metal man's cronies. She told me how they hurt people. It made me feel like when people kick puppies. Just not right, fat hands."
"Okay, so I was right. Is that all you wanted to say?"
"People are crazy and that's sayin' something since I'm missing a few screws." Jinx ignored Vi as she continued on. "But this lady is crazy crazy. She needs to be in a straight jacket, kind of crazy. Not like how I just loooove explosions. Nonononono, she talks about how she can't become all metalfied and be the evolution!" The bluette threw her arms up theatrically. She quiets down as she stares at her hands. She opens her mouth a few times before closing it immediately, inwardly fighting with herself to speak. With a frustrated groan, she began to slam her head into the metal table with vicious violence, cursing loudly and wailing like a lost banshee.
Vi shoots across the table, grabbing Jinx by the shoulders and holding the loose cannon from continuing her meltdown. "Get your shit together!" The pinkette snarls. "Fucking stop, you're bleeding for Valoran's sake."
Slowly the meltdown begins to subside, bringing the two of them in an on-edge quiet that makes the brawler nervous.
The bluette's eyes focus on a point on Vi's left forearm along one of the inked cogs. The fresh week old ink depicts a small mechanical beetle perching curiously along one of the gears. Etched inside the shell of the hextech bug is a proud eagle pinning a duck down with its massive talons.
The small woman brings her attention to the officer holding her shoulders up. "That's a new one you got there, fat hands."
Vi releases her quickly and guards the tattoo by covering a grease-covered palm over it. She leans her back into the chair, glaring daggers at the bluette.
"Is that for hat lady's doppelganger?"
"It's none of your business, Jinx. What is the real reason that you want to talk to me?" The snarl causes pink eyes to water. The small woman seems to shrink in the chair she is in and avoids eye contact.
Much like Vi, she fidgets when she is nervous.
"Did she make it out of the attack?"
The brawler is taken aback slightly. "Why do you care?"
"I like her."
It's such a quiet whisper that it starts to enrage Vi.
"Her brother didn't make it. She went fucking ballistic and now she is in Ionia fighting a war that YOU started."
"That was the raven kid and metal man's fault, not mine." The Pinkette clenches her fists at the small whimper.
"Speak up, you fucking physco!"
"I DIDN'T START ANYTHING!" The bluette wailed, tears streaming down her narrow cheeks. "I WAS JUST HAVING FUN!"
"You're fucking evil, Jinx!" Vi bellowed, standing up and pointing at the quivering mess across from her. "Your fun is people's pain. Do you know how many got killed in the attack? How many people, like Dakota, have to suffer with losing loved ones? You have no fucking sweet clue what you caused, because you only think about yourself!"
"I didn't want them to die."
It's the first time in a long time that Vi hears the girl she used to be. Something in her heart twinges as her gut twists in on herself. She always knew that Jinx was very mentally unstable and ill. But she forgot about what she was like before.
Before she left her and broke every promise she made to Jinx.
"I never want to. It's just stupid mistakes of dummy people getting in the way. Fathands, you need to believe me, I never wanted anyone- I- please help me."
"Why do you want help?"
It's the softest Vi has ever spoken to her. It isn't condescending or filled with venom. It was a genuine question that made Jinx look up slowly, sniffling away and brushing tears away from her cheeks with the sleeve of the mauve jumpsuit.
"I'm...scared." Jinx hugs herself.
Fists slam into the table with such force the smaller woman jumps slightly. Vi stands up abruptly, spins on her heels and slams the door behind her.
Caitlyn waits as the brawler paces circles around the back of the interrogation room. Her eyes zero in on folding chair relaxing against the cement wall. She grabs it, unfolds it and plops unceremoniously. Her rough hands slide through her hair, while her knee bounces anxiously, making her solid form shake.
"What do I do, Cait?"
Calmly, the sheriff moves forward and gently runs her fingers through the shaved side of Vi's hair. The small drag of her nails brings a calming breath through the tense brawler under her digits. "What are your options?"
Vi drags her fingers through her face and rests them at her mouth. "I could fucking end it for her right now." Caitlyn could tell that was an empty threat by the way her voice dropped at the last word. "I could just keep her in that cell and leave her there to bloody rot." That sounded a lot less empty. "Or I could get her fucking head screwed on tight with a bloody good shrink."
"We don't decide that though." Caitlyn murmured softly.
"I know, but we have the power to say something to help her." Vi reasons, mostly to herself. "Her court case isn't for another couple of days, we could get her a lawyer, someone, anyone who'd be willing to take her case."
"That might be a lot tougher than it sounds, love."
"What if they sentence her to-? Fuck, cupcake, I shouldn't have talked to her." Vi leans her head back, looking up to her partner's icy eyes. Caitlyn's hands move to her jaw, her thumbs drawing circles behind her ears.
"What do you want to do, Vi?"
"I can't save every kid that was on the street, you told me so a while ago."
"That was a while ago and I've learned that your stubbornness can get anything done with your dimwitted determination, Vi. It's what I love about you, it is impossible for you not to do the right thing. She isn't a kid on the street, she is a woman with questionable morals."
"She's sick, Cait."
"I know."
"She wasn't like this when I knew her from before. Someo-something fucked her up." She closes her eyes, before she cradles her head in her hands. "But she caused so much damage. I don't think she even realizes the number of people she killed."
They are quiet for a moment. Vi turns her head to stare at the bluette from behind the two-way mirror. The small woman is holding herself, rocking back and forth. More tears keep carving a trail down her cheeks. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry…" She keeps repeating it like a mantra and Vi forces herself to tear her eyes away from the scene.
"Motherfuc-." She stands up and crosses the distance toward the door. She takes a steadying breath, muttering curses that Caitlyn chooses to ignore. The brawler opens the door and strides in, taking her seat across from the bluette. "I swear to fuck, if you do anything to make me regret this, you will not live to see another ray of gods damned sunlight, do you understand?"
"Wha-?"
"Promise me. You need to promise me so that I can make this all better."
"Pinky promise."
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{Your Life- Stephen}
(five days later later)
It had been a gruelling five days of sleepless nights followed by early morning drills, sweating through every shirt she owned, getting bruised, beaten and bloody. Irelia really had it out to make sure the new unit was capable of working together.
If Dakota, a sixteen-year-old girl, could handle working with elite members of a recon group.
Matais did well; he himself had been put through the wringer. Tai and Kaia saw him as an asset once Matais almost immediately bringing him into their partnership with their shared language.
Dakota had yet to show her place in the group.
In the beginning, to say that Piltover had spoiled her in the last year, she would try to stubbornly disagree. However, as the days passed she realized that training on crash mats was a lot different than training in the Demacian training sands, or on the beaches of Ionia.
Now, she believed it that she may have been a bit lax in Piltover.
But true to her nature, Dakota had clawed through the training drills, team runs and different language mission briefs. The Ionian guard captain put them through a hell that was almost as bad as the regular boot camps they would take part in during the summer months in Demacia. It was hellish, but it had a purpose to break her down and build her back up again. It honestly had been a while since she had felt like this, but soon it became almost like a comfort. This was going to make her stronger.
Thankfully, Tai had been gracious enough to give her pointers on how to run in the wild jungles for a few hours during their off times. All and all she was doing a hell of a lot better than the first day, but she still had a lot of work to do.
She did have to give herself a pat on the back for at least learning how to breathe in this bloody muggy country.
She heaved her chest with each ragged breath, forcing her lungs to get a grip. The night air was thankfully a bit more forgiving.
She was starting to get more confident in her movements through the jungle. It was nothing like Tai, but it was a start.
She vaulted over a massive root and ducked under a series of vines, that the previous week had clotheslined her. The young soldier jumped up to get to a branch and hoisted herself up, much to her bruised ribs complaints.
The guard Captain had been the sparring fighter that the unit faced individually. She was ruthless in her stoic stare and had obviously been training as a martial fighter longer than she'd been in the military. Kaia was quick but had gotten a few cuts and bruises herself after underestimating the Guard Captain's ability to strike with deafening kicks. Tai, surprisingly, had kept up with Irelia giving back strikes that he would receive. Matais obviously had some trouble, but after a few training days, he had learned the Guard Captian's flow of movement and kept a fairly good pace.
Dakota, on the other hand, was brutally punished at every opportunity the first day. Irelia was a good teacher on keeping her focused, but she was a relentless force that reminded her of Vi. Sure her hits weren't as jarring, but her will was at an equivocal strength. She was a fluid fighter that could move through sand like they were clouds. Dakota had to take a few training sessions to observe and learn these new foreign stances, throws and strikes, watching the way Irelia's fluidity carried her through the movements. When Dakota had finally caught her in a throw she had learned from watching Kaia and the Captain spar, she could almost sense the change in opinion Irelia had of her.
Her chin still felt swollen as she crossed through the jungle, using massive tree limbs as a path. This training scenario was briefed as a way to show the progress of the training. Her unit was individually given different tasks by the enlightened one. Her task wasn't difficult; it was simple reconnaissance and retrieval; she was supposed to get in and out undetected with one of Irelia's swords.
Simple enough. At least, she hoped.
Her vest was a new addition, replacing the heavier and unbreathable plate material she had for many years. The shoulder armour had also been replaced with new pauldrons and arm protection. Black linen had replaced the thick cotton undershirt she usually wore under her armour. She was specifically banned from using her axes, to fully bring her out of her comfort zone.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard Ionian murmuring. She hunched low on the branch and listened letting her ears pinpoint their location as one of the targets seemed to trip on a root.
They sounded like they were just below her. She peered around the branch she was standing on, her eyes falling on the two figures holding long bamboo staves. One was a short feminine figure who scolded her compatriot, a large masculine outline, with a hard thwack to the back of the head.
The feminine figure hissed something in Ionian that was obviously a threat. The male brushed her off, shrugging his shoulders as they continued onward through the jungle.
Dakota followed them, keeping light on her feet up above.
The two figures paused when the trail ended. Before them, a small encampment of Ionian soldiers broke off into a clearing at the base of a massive tree. They entered into the small ring, being greeted loudly by a few soldiers huddled around a small fire in the centre. Irelia came out of one of the tents and nodded to her troops. They all greeted her with grunts and nodding heads before they fell quiet to listen to her orders.
The young Piltovian admired the way the Ionian guard captain captured the attention of her troops. It was different from her other commanders, where they would scream viciously, barking orders like a frothing dog. Her way of leadership reminded her of the Sheriff, but with a more confident composure. Caitlyn was someone you didn't want to cross, someone you feared to disappoint.
Irelia was a leader that made you feel like if you crossed her, you'd feel more disappointed in yourself. She wouldn't rage or scream, but she would distrust you and make you know it with a quiet cold stare.
Dakota honestly didn't know which was worse.
She waited for the troops to start eating before she circled the camp, keeping low along the vines and ferns. She curiously watched as Irelia sat and ate with her troops, smirking at some of their jokes.
She kept her eye on the two soldiers rotating around the perimeter behind the tents, walking circles and whistling back and forth to each other. She had counted twelve bodies around the camp and kept tabs as they entered into their tents, bidding their comrades a good night. Irelia was the last to retire to her tent. She gracefully took the few steps to pull back the canvas material, nodding at the two guards standing at the entrance and disappearing altogether.
It was another few hours before the camp fell silent, save for the guards whistling at each other to keep tabs and the crackles of hot embers dying in the cooking pit.
Silently, she pulled herself up from the jungle foliage, slipping around one of the gigantic roots of the massive tree. She slinked around the tents keeping low to not catch any attention with sudden movements as she slipped her sharp knife through the connecting floor piece of Irelia's tent. Silently, it carved the material effortlessly, revealing a slim hole that the soldier could crawl through, hopefully undetected.
She wondered what the others were tasked with doing before she carefully peered into the complete pitch darkness of Irelia's tent. The sound of boots approaching let her know her time was running low as she let her ears zero in on the ambience sound of Irelia's tent. With nothing alerting her she slid herself headfirst into the tent, keeping as silent as possible. Once she was fully inside, she took a few moments to let her eyes adjust, letting out slow even breaths to keep the adrenaline coursing through her veins under wraps.
Her eyes caught the silhouette of Irelia's form laying with her back facing Dakota. Her slim shoulders rose and fell with deep low breaths.
The Piltovian waited a few more moments, silently counting each inhale and exhale as she gathered more of her surroundings. The tent wasn't extremely large, but big enough to have at least four or five people standing in it, without feeling claustrophobic. A desk was placed at the foot of the cot. Maps designated most of the space around the wooden material, but what was atop the maps made Dakota's icy blue eyes glint with mischief.
The swords were carefully spaced in a fanlike pattern over top each other. Their 'S' curved forms caused curiosity to drive her forward, slowly slinking in the pitch darkness. She kept her ears focused on the sounds of Irealia's breathing and the idle movement of the guards standing protectively by the proper entrance. One of them yawned loudly and Dakota fought to stop the one that wanted to pull out.
She made it to the desk, letting her eyes fall on the guard captain one more time before she let the calloused tips of her finger dance lightly on the dark metal.
Saying that they were sharp was an understatement. With the slightest of touch on the edge, it had nicked her skin. Someone had crafted these weapons with such expertise and maintained them with a love unlike anything she had ever experienced. This was something more than expert craftsmanship.
She froze when Irelia stirred in her sleep. Rather than drawing attention by dropping low with quick movement, she held her breath and stayed statue still. She let the shadows of pitch night swallow her. The only sound in her ears with the steady thump of her heartbeat.
Dakota counted the minutes, watching Irelia's form fall back into the cadence of sleep. She slowly reached for one of the swords, bringing her fingers to curl around the indented metal of the first sword in the fan. The Piltovian pulled it from the desk soundlessly.
She took a step backward, keeping her icy eyes focused solely on Irelia as she backed up to her opening in the tent. She knelt to one knee and peered through the small slit. If she was estimating correctly she had at least five seconds before one of the guards made their way near the back of the guard captain's tent. Inwardly, the teen cursed. She would need to wait for them to rotate.
As she settled back into the tent, the feeling of being watched hit her gut, making the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She slowly turned her head to come face to face with four blades hovering around her, like guard dogs; their points aimed at her throat.
"You are quiet." Irelia's 'sleeping' form murmured in perfect common from her cot. The guard captain rose from the comfort of pillows and blankets. "Karma had told me you were not ready, that you were probably going to be placed in the messenger's division. But here you are. Did she put you to this impossible task?"
Dakota's features hardened like steel, but she remained silent, warily watching the blades with cunning hues. Irelia's swords were definitely magic, they swayed with her movements as she gracefully approached the young soldier. The Piltovian could feel the sword in her grip writhe to escape. She closed her hand more tightly around the blade, feeling it cleanly cut into her palms. Her hues went from the blades at her throat to the guard captain, gauging her reaction as she gripped it tighter.
An annoyed line sat deep into Irelia's cheekbones as she clenched her jaw.
Dakota raised an eyebrow in challenge.
"It was foolish of her to think you were ready," Irelia continued after clearing her throat. "We've been watching you all carefully and how you interact and you refuse to get closer to your proposed unit. Why?"
Blood dripped onto the wooden floor of the tent. Dakota took even breaths, letting herself expel the need to scream and defend herself. She needed to treat Irelia like an enemy captain that had just found her in their tent. You could never speak about yourself or your unit to the enemy.
A lesson she should have used for Illya.
"Release my blade." Irelia commanded sternly. "Or I'll call the guards and have you arrested and dishonourably discharged."
"I told you I was a veteran." Dakota murmured with a sheepish smile. She extended her bloodied hand before her, holding the blade tightly in her grip. The swords hanging in the air seemed to shiver as they watched their captive brethren.
Irelia hummed in agreement. "You may be, but you have a lot to learn."
The Piltovian nodded, releasing a tight sigh from her chest. "Right."
Irelia placed a hand on Dakota's fist. It was a gentle yet firm touch that reminded Dakota that she needed to let go. The Piltovian's smile faded and like lightning, her other hand slapped on top of the blade, revealing one of her hextech bugs.
Irelia, confused at first, nearly buckled to her knees as Dakota gave a shrill whistle making the bug begin to attack the metal with its saw-like jaws.
The blades floating around Dakota wiggled in a weird pain like manner. If they were capable, she was sure they would scream. Irelia glared angrily, her face contorted in pain. The Piltovian slammed her right elbow into the guard captain's wrist and turned her body to break the captain's death grip on the blade.
Blood whipped with the movement, splattering the chest plates of the two guards busting into the tent.
Dakota sprinted fast, the other hand gripping her combat knife and cutting the canvas of her escape, shouldering her way out into the fresh air. She dodged out of the way of a spear being lunged mere millimetres from her gut. She closed her arm over the wooden end, trapping the spear in her armpit before kicking the patrolling guard hard in the face, knocking him down into the dirt in a heap.
The sound of whistling air caught her ears as blades sang their way out of the tent. She ducked one and caught another with her combat knife, sparks flew out from the contact. The sword in her hand seemed to try to kick in her grip, making a pained hiss pull out of her lips once she started running out of the camp zone, the other blades chasing after her in the jungle. The distant sound of Irelia calling out orders and quick feet following her made her move quicker.
She vaulted over a fallen tree and urged her legs to not give in to the exhaustion. Her lungs burned, her hand willed to weaken its grip around the blade.
If she wasn't so focused on trying to breathe, she would have seen the massive group of vines that had been her enemy since day one. Her chest and head caught them full force, inertia continuing to take her body forward, slamming her flat on her back. Her breath was knocked clean out of her lungs. The singing blades zeroed in on her position, screaming forward to plunge into her body.
She would have clenched her eyes shut if she wasn't trying not to choke to death.
Dakota was surprised a few seconds later when they did not butcher her. Her mind finally pulled itself out of the adrenaline high as she took in her current situation.
Matais stood in front of her, his left hand held out in front of him, muttering in Ionian. His vine tattoos around his arms glowed purple in the dark abyss of the jungle. The blades tried valiantly to get to Dakota but something unseen to her eyes kept them back.
"Go, the enlightened one is waiting for you at Headquarters." He mumbled quickly. His usually sea-green eyes lost in a violet haze.
Once she got her body to stop panicking about the lack of air, she rose up, proud of herself that she kept Irelia's blade in her bloodied hand. She would need to get stitches once she brought this back to Karma.
"I'll see you back at camp."
He grunted back in reply.
That was all she needed for her to take off through the rest of the woods and at the edge of the city.
an- hey fam, so glad to see you all again! As usual, I have been busy af, but I've been cracking away at a lot of projects. I'm working on the fifth chapter of start end as well as the next chapter of my original stuff on fiction press with my gay Scottish and German werewolf babes that are dumb of ass and terrible at knowing what feelings are. Check out my profile to get to the important links. Anyways, feel free to let me know what you all think. I recently re-read this entire series and I feel like once I have this completed there are a few chapters I would love to rewrite, since I've seen a lot of progression and change in my writing style. I'm so glad most of you are still on this ride. I've nearly finished the next chapter and should be hopefully ready by christams/new years at the latest. Once January hits I'll be in the dead period of my day job since no one has the money to go to concerts or go on tour during the snowy trials of Canada's winter. As always a speacial thanks to WG Karibu my life partner and beta reader extraordinaire. Sorry I was super PMSing and emotional when you had to review this. Cheers everyone, and see you soon hopefully!