This one is gonna take a turn, folks, and it may be a bit short, but hopefully, y'all enjoy it.
Battle of Silvermere Part VII
A Harried Hope Part II
As the Silverwing races and weaves through the threads of Black Mist choking the sky, Lux wonders for what might be the thirtieth time why she asked to go along.
Everything had been moving so quickly.
Morgana scoops Poppy into her arms, "Poppy?"
But the Yordle had passed back into unconsciousness.
"What did she mean?" Lux asks, looking between Quinn and Garen.
"House Durand." Quinn states, looking to Garen, "They're…."
"Architects." Garen remarks, "How could they aid us if they managed to resist the Black Mist?"
"They're mages." Morgana corrects, and every head turns to look at her.
"Yes," Quinn states, and Lux watches her brother have to fight past his confusion.
"One of the nob-of course they are," he mutters, shaking his head, shooting her a glance that is a mixture of so many emotions but one a hefty helping of guilt.
"Their founder made Galio." Morgana states.
"Who was taken from Demacia City by the Prince's army," Quinn notes.
"To take in the magic of the Noxians or whatever else had come to threaten us." Garen states, "I remember, but he was lost alongside the Prince."
"The Mist is magic, corruptive, and corrosive, but Magic still." Morgana remarks, "The golem would have animated."
"And he wouldn't have been the only one." Quinn states.
"What?" Garen and Lux ask, the former demanding, the latter confused.
"They've made others." Quinn states, "And I've seen them animate in the presence of the Durands, so when you put two and two together."
"Why was this kept secret?" Garen asks.
Quinn raises an eyebrow.
"I learned not long after becoming Ranger General they've aided us on the Northern border when asked, but considering how the Kingdom had become before the Ruination, I understand why secrecy was demanded," she states.
"But if they were made in the likeness of Galio," Morgana begins.
"They're made of petricite." Lux finishes, "And if the Black Mist is magic."
"They could draw it into themselves," Morgana remarks, "Weakening the Demons and giving our forces a real chance at surviving what is coming."
"Survive?" Garen asks, looking at her, "Not win."
"I will not speak false optimism when I know what has us in its sights." Morgana remarks.
"That being?" Quinn asks, "The creature from last night?"
"The First of Ten." Morgana murmurs, "An ancient being, older than some peoples and certainly most nations on Runeterra. It was powerful before, but with the Black Mist strengthening it…there has been a change that worries me."
Garen sighs, rubbing his face, "And if the Durands can help us?"
"I will not fall to false optimism." Morgana mutters, "If their creations stand, then our chances increase against its followers, weakening its bond but chasing it away. We may need a miracle."
Lux notices that Morgana clutches Poppy a bit tighter to herself.
"A goddess asking for a miracle." Quinn snarks, "We are…fu-"
Garen cuts her off, "You know where the Durands are?"
"Yes." Quinn states.
"Then go." Garen orders.
Quinn leaves, but Lux steps after her, "I am going with you."
"Lux-" Garen begins.
"I can help wake them up, make it quicker, I have…Galio knows me." Lux admits.
Garen blinks, staring at her for several moments.
"I will go with them." Morgana states, "She will be safe with me."
"Then hurry. Cithria is one of our best riders. Have her take you. I will consolidate our forces and make sure the healers see to Poppy." Garen states.
Lux clutches tightly to Cithria. She glances over and sees Valor darting around Quinn's mount, Morgana sitting back, looking almost happy.
They'd been flying east at a breakneck pace, heading deeper into the Silverpeaks.
Quinn gestures for them to follow her and goes into a steep dive as another tendril of Black Mist blocks their path.
"Hold on," Cithria warns.
"What do you think I have been doing," Lux mutters, burring her face into Cithria's back.
She feels her stomach flip as they plummet, then movements later, leveling out, and she hears Quinn's voice shout out over the wind.
"We're here!"
Lux opens her eyes and looks down, blinking in surprise.
The Mist is nowhere to be seen—instead, a collection of home rest behind high artful walls in a pleasant little valley.
And beyond, in a wide ring, standing sentinel are several giant petricite statues. Still, the largest rests within the compound, standing over a hundred feet tall, arms outstretched as if pushing against something dirty torn up beneath its feet: Galio.
Quinn slides down her mount's side, drawing her crossbows and looking around furtively.
It was quiet, far too quiet for her liking.
"Val, go hunt," she commands.
The great eagle bobs his head and races back into the air, arcing toward the manor's walls.
"This place looks untouched." Cithria remarks.
"Stay ready." Quinn warns, "Something…isn't quite right."
"What isn't like that anymore," Cithria remarks, patting the side of her mount.
Lux makes her way to the nearest statue, Morgana a step behind. Quinn follows, eying the nearby forests, hunting for any sign of combat.
At the edge of the forests, there is dark metal lying in heaps that look almost carefully placed.
Darting over, she kneels, pulling a dark iron helm out of the leaf litter. Looking to her right and left, she sees similar piles.
The armor resembles what she's seen a number of stronger wraiths wear.
"Empty shells," she calls, holding up the helm.
Morgana looks up at the construct she and Lux are approaching. It wasn't overly large and was modeled after a dog.
"The wraiths are animated by the Mist. Without the Mist, they'd come apart." Morgana remarks.
"So Poppy was right?" Lux asks.
"We will see," Morgana states, reaching out towards the construct, her hand igniting with violet fire.
She places it against the dog's front leg, and the fire snuffs out.
"Stop!" a voice calls out.
Quinn whirls, spotting the familiar spectacled and gray muttonchop-rimmed face of the Durand Patriarch: Benjamin, and then cries out as the construct suddenly moves, its other paw rising to take Morgana's head off.
"Move!" Quinn commands.
Morgana's eyes snap open, pushing Lux back as the stone paw comes down, sinking deep into the dirt. Black Mist begins to pour from the seams of the construct's body.
"It's possessed them." Morgana sighs, readying to fight as the construct fully turns to face them, raising another paw.
Quinn darts towards them and then slows as the construct slows, the paw freezing in midair above Morgana's head.
"What happened?" Lux asks, staring at the construct.
"I feel like we're about to find out," Quinn mutters as the manor's gates open and the Durand clan emerges, looking worn and weary but better off than she had hoped they'd be.
"Quinn?" Benjamin asks, a broad smile crossing his aged face.
"Hey, Gramps," she says and rolls her eyes as the older man pulls her into a tight hug.
"I didn't want to believe-We had no clue if anyone was…" he begins, looking up to Galio, "When he arrived with the Black Mist in pursuit, we worried that Demacia was gone."
"Much of it has fallen." Quinn states solemnly, "And the Prince is missing, but High Silvermere stands."
"It's why we're here." Lux states, gesturing to the statues, "We came seeking aid, but what happened to them."
"Lady Crownguard," Benjamin breathes, looking more than a little shocked at her presence and then seeming to notice Morgana for the first time, "He said to expect interesting visitors, but I didn't…."
"Who did?" Quinn demands, "But first, I'd like to hear what happened here as well."
"Our constructs absorb magic, and it keeps them mobile, a semblance of life really, unlike the original." he looks up to Galio with a smile, "From what has been explained to us, the Black Mist is dark corruptive magic, a possessive influence."
"Right." Quinn states.
"Well, it can't quite get a hold of them," he states, gesturing at the constructs, "They have no minds, so the Mist is locked within, but when we try to activate any of them, they lash out as if our spark allows the Mist to take a deeper hold. It's quite interesting, or it would be if it didn't mean our main defense has been locked down for months."
"And there is nothing you can do?" Lux asks, "That we can do?"
"Well…that is why I think you should speak to our other visitor." Benjamin states, rubbing the back of his neck, and Quinn notices several of his family narrow their eyes.
"Lead the way," Morgana states, stepping to the forefront.
Morgana looks up at Galio as they pass him, "What of Galio? For all intents, he has a mind, so why is he frozen?"
"I don't know." Durand remarks, "But I would like to think it is his force of will, holding back the Mist's attempts to corrupt him."
The raven's croak drew all of their attention, and Quinn, in a flash, launched a bolt toward it. The bird dodged, only for Valor's claws to find it and pin it to the ground.
"What was that for?" Benjamin cries, surprised.
"The creature we are facing uses blackbirds as spies." Morgana states.
"Crows, actually." a cold voice remarks from ahead of them.
They see a tall man dressed in all black with long grey hair standing above them on one of the manor's walls.
Quinn pivots, pointing her crossbows at them.
"Ravens, like the bird at your feet, are much more amenable, you'll find." the man states,
At least, mine are."
And from beneath his long black cloak, a glowing red hand emerges, a rush of force sending Valor backward, the raven alighting to the man's shoulder.
"I see the Yordle took my message to heart." Swain remarks, "Good."
And scene!
And so enters Swain back into the narrative.
Hopefully, I will get another chapter out tomorrow.
As always, comments, questions, and critiques are appreciated. This has been VerBeeker, signing off!