The End Game Moves into the Final Chapters. Let's begin.

Battle of Silvermere Part VIII

A Harried Hope Part III

"I see the Yordle took my message to heart." Swain remarks, "Good."

Quinn opens fire immediately, only for both her shots to be buffeted aside with a lash of crimson lightning.

"Would you like to try that again?' Swain asks, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn snarls and Valor prepares to launch into the air, but Morgana holds out her hand.

"Stop," she remarks.

Quinn doesn't take her fingers off the triggers, looking at Benjamin, "You let him in?!"

"We…" Benjamin mutters.

"Didn't have much choice in the matter, truthfully," Swain remarks, turning his back to them and staring out towards the ring of constructs.

"Why are you here?" Morgana demands.

"To offer a helping hand." Swain returns sardonically, lifting his demonic limb.

"This is a trick." Quinn spits, "Noxus would never come to Demacia's aid."

"Noxus isn't coming to your aid." Swain returns, looking over his shoulder at them, "I am. My people do not know that I am here, but our own fights do not capture my interest as much as the one taking place in Silvermere."

"Well, isn't that thrilling?" Quinn hisses.

"Isn't it?" Swain returns, "I have no love for your country. The people are…well, who can say how the people will be after this Ruination resolves. Do you believe they will turn back their beliefs on the corrosive power of magic?"

His eyes flick to Lux, who looks away toward the towering form of Galio.

"Yet, I would not desire to see your nation fall to the beast currently knocking at its door." he finishes.

"How noble of you." Quinn mutters, "What makes you think we need, let alone want, your help."

'My dear girl, I know you do not want my help." Swain returns, "And I do not care. You will not awaken the Durands' creations without my aid."

Quinn shoots Benjamin another accusatory look, but Swain holds up his hand, "Do not berate the man. This was an easy secret to ferret out if you are not blinded by nationalist rhetoric."

"Why?" Lux asks, drawing the other's attention, "What can you do that we can't?"

"Join me," Swain states, stepping to the side and gesturing for her to step up.

She takes a step forward, and Morgana reaches out a hand to stop her, "I promised your broth-"

"I know." Lux returns, "But I think…I think we should trust him. For now."

"A smart choice," Swain states with the slightest nod of approval.

Lux walks up the steps, joining him atop the wall, Morgana a step behind.

"The Black Mist is a terrible curse." Swain begins, demonic hand rising to the clouds roiling on the horizon, "Yet, some would call it a miracle. It can halt death, steal minds, weaken spirits, and empower demons."

"A cruel, dangerous magic to be sure." he continues, "But able to be consumed by the Durands' work all the same. The problem is that the constructs' drive to protect and the Mist's attempts to enslave are directly counterpointed. They will be trapped in a false stasis as long as the Mist remains within."

"Only waking up with a spark, but forced to lash out." Lux finishes.

"Yes." Swain states, "But if one were to draw the Mist out, they could be turned to your cause."

"And you are claiming that you can do that?" Morgana asks.

"Touched by shadow as you are, I imagine you could as well." Swain remarks, "But the consequences could be…too dangerous. I, on the other hand…."

He raises his hand towards an elk-shaped construct and clenches his fist; the Black Mist begins to seep from its seams, darting towards his hand and seeping into it. His eyes began to glow red from within, and the sound of crying crows can be faintly heard on the wind.

He looks to them, "I am only strengthened by drawing it into myself."

"Which is so comforting to hear." Quinn states.

"I imagine your fellows will feel much the same." Swain states, "But a victory in Silvermere is necessary."

"Why are you doing this?" Morgana remarks, "Why should we accept this?"

Swain turns, "The Wandering King has always been a creature of instinct. A terrible thing from the dawn of our world, but for all its malice, the fear it caused was simply its nature. The words it steals beyond its understanding. You know this."

Morgana nods.

He looks to the horizon, turning his demonic hand over as he draws more of the Black Mist into himself.

"Through the Mists, it has learned to understand." Swain states, "And in doing so, it realized what it truly meant to be a King. No more is it the solitary predator hunting as it wills. In its place has arisen a warlord, and unless it is stopped in Silvermere, Viego will be a fond memory."

"So…do you still believe you do not need my aid?" he demands.

Lux looks up at Morgana and then over to Galio, "If the Mist will just make them stop fighting, how will this help us."

"You are quite powerful, Lady Crownguard." Swain remarks, "Despite how your family tried to quash down any attempts to learn and grow."

Lux glares at him.

"Your light will keep them moving as I draw the Mist from their forms." he states, "As I feel the Lady in Shadow will be quite preoccupied with several of the King's new lieutenants."

"I can't…." Lux begins.

"You can." he retorts, "Though only because we will be standing in Silvermere. A tower of petricite, having consumed the residual magic for centuries. Demacia's great defense against magic storing it away to be used by the right person. All you must do is draw from it. I'm sure you've seen how."

Lux looks down, harsh memories crashing about her mind.

"Then let us get started," she states, turning to Galio, light gleaming from her eyes. She raises her arms, and Morgana and Swain mimic her on either side, bordering shades to her gleaming form.

And as the Mist is drawn from his immense form, golden light and purple fire seeping into his limps with a resounding crack, the Colossus begins to move.

"I'll keep it back!" he bellows and then freezes, looking down at his outstretched hands, and then far below to the people drawing him to wakefulness.

"What, what happened to the Darkness?" he asks, kneeling and eyes widening as he recognizes a familiar face, "Hello, Girl!"

Lux smiles widely, "The Darkness isn't far, and we need your help."

Galio nods, eying the others for a moment, "Right."

He cracks his neck and flexes his wings, "Point the way."

Poppy smiled as she watched Orlon's other followers celebrate, raising mugs to the sky and bellowing out hopeful songs. They were all bruised and bandaged, as the beast that had come for the refugees had been a terrible thing indeed.

But Orlon had pushed it back, battering the behemoth down and sending it running for the hills.

She'd helped, of course, but it hadn't been much.

A few hits given, and a few hits blocked.

Yet as she went to join the festivities, smelling roasting meat on the wind, she had been stopped.

They'd found the beast attacking another caravan.

And now, one of those they'd saved, a young woman, was holding her in a tight embrace.

"Thank you." the woman breathed.

"Me?" Poppy asked, a bit confused.

"You saved us." the woman stated.

"I was just following Orlon's lead. Where he goes, I follow," Poppy stated, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Sir Orlon didn't save my family. You did." she remarked, "You blocked a thrown boulder with just your shield."

"Just a trick I picked up." Poppy returned.

"You're too humble." the woman softly admonished, "You're a hero."

That word echoed in her brain as she approached Orlon.

"What is it?" he asked, chuckling at her baffled expression.

"Someone used that word again," she stated, looking up at him.

"Let me guess, 'hero'?" he joked, shaking his head in amusement.

"Yes! But I didn't do anything special." Poppy stated, "I was just following your lead."

"And quite a few others were following yours." he returned.

"Why would they do that?" Poppy asked.

"Because they look up to you." Orlon returned.

She laughed, "How could any of you look up to me?"

She gestured to their height difference.

"When I was on the ground and took out the beast's eye with your shield, I looked up at you." Orlon remarked.

"Yeah, but that wasn't anything special." Poppy stated.

"You saved me," he remarked.

"Of course I did." Poppy said, "It's the right thing to do. You're important, not me."

"But I am not the one that inspires the most hope in our comrades. That is you. Which was what I was trying to say." Orlon explained.

"Me?" Poppy asked.

"Yes. Because you never stay down, you have it in your mind that we will win. You carry that hope, and it inspires others to think the same." Orlon remarked.

Poppy waved him off, "I'm just stubborn."

"Hope is a form of stubbornness if you think about it." Orlon stated.

"But I'm not someone special. I'm just following in your example." Poppy explained, "So why should people put their faith in me?"

"Are they wrong to?" Orlon asked.

"I…" Poppy had muttered, looking away.

"I have faith in you, my apprentice." Orlon stated, ruffling her hair, "And for good reason. Always remember, where there is hope."

"There is a way." she finished, smiling at him.

Poppy wakes up once more, looking around the room and spotting Tana resting in a chair beside her.

"Tana?" Poppy rasps, her throat dry.

Tana starts and catches Poppy up in a tight hug, "You're awake!"

"How long was I out?" Poppy asks, accepting the hug gladly.

"Not overly long, but things have grown tense," Tana states, offering her a canteen.

Poppy drinks greedily and looks about, "Has anything happened?"

"The Mists have begun to encroach again." Tana states, "Garen has ordered all civilians with minimal or no combat experience to bunker in the Sentinel's Vault. Defenses have been prepared."

"Have the Sentinels arrived?" Poppy asks.

"No, not yet." Tana remarks, "And the group that went to seek help from the Durands haven't returned."

Poppy sits there for a moment, feeling her wounds burn and ache.

"Right," she states, "Where are my things?"

"Poppy-" Tana begins, but Poppy shakes her head.

"No, I'm too stubborn, you know that." Poppy remarks.

"I do." Tana acknowledges.

"So where?" Poppy begins, stopping when she sees the remains of her hammer resting atop the bedstand. The haft rests against it, and her armor and shield sit on a chair to the side.

The shield is pitted, the armor worn, and Orlon's Hammer is shattered.

She would never fulfill her promise now.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, softly resting her hands on the pieces. They are cool to the touch, but they almost seem to warm under her hand for a moment.

Steeling herself, she swiftly dons her armor, smiling slightly as she adjusts Gwen's work and fits her old pieces over the top of it.

She places her shield over her arm and lifts the haft of her hammer. A single rough shard of stone remained attached to the mooring.

Too stubborn to give up.

And so was she.

She turns to face Tana, "How do I look?"

"Tired." Tana answers.

"Maybe, but I'm not done." Poppy remarks.

"Following your lead, Commander." Tana remarks.

Poppy blinks and then smiles, wondering how she had never noticed how similar Tana sounded to how she had when she had followed Orlon.

Bells began to chime across the city, and a booming shout, "They're coming!"

"Then let's go." Poppy states, rushing out of her room, spinning her ruined weapon, Tana a step behind.

Next time the final battle of Silvermere likely to be a long chapter, so I hope folks are ready!

As always, comments, questions, and critiques are appreciated. This has been VerBeeker, signing off!