Despite his predicament of being a prisoner, the Demacian wore a smile on his face.
To say it unnerved Gerris would be an understatement. Presumably one of the Dauntless Vanguard, he had sacrificed himself to let the Prince escape. After being cornered by his platoon, he surrendered, and claimed he wished to join the Empire. Noxian doctrine encouraged commanders to accept these men, and he admitted there was merit to it. Many had fallen to his spear.
Perhaps too many.
Which was why he was here, with the Demacian in his tent Alone in his tent, the Demacian sat. He had oily black hair that was greasy and long from the days without a cut. Based on his head movements, he wasn't used to it. His skin was an odd tan; far from the usual dark brown or pale cream that his countrymen bore. Perhaps he was of mixed blood, the captain thought. Analyzing the Demacian's body, the captain found easy comparisons to a dancer. By no means unfit, but not a strongman like himself. Less a brute, more a hunter, or scout. Or assassin...
"So, you're the one who killed my men," Gerris started, a menacing tone in his voice, "The Demacian who betrayed his king and country for… what?"
The Demacian shook his head and chuckled, "They betrayed me long ago."
"Oh?"
"I recommend getting better cuffs…"
The Demacian raised his cuffed hands, palms facing upwards. They glowed, fingers shaking with power. Soon enough, a pale blue flame appeared in his hands. The Demacian was a mage.
"… Ah, a mage," Gerris noted, "I've heard the stories. How your people put your kind to the slaughter. Yet, to enter the Dauntless Vanguard…"
"Oh, I'm no Dauntless," the Demacian laughed, "Perhaps in another life, but I was merely a good soldier in the Demacian military. Getting by, laying low…"
"That display was hardly laying low," Gerris chided, "You killed many of my men. You saved the Prince. If you were successful you'd have been accepted into the Dauntless Vanguard, even as a mage."
"And as a mage in the Vanguard I'd have to watch my kind get killed and say nothing. Serve the King, even as he allows those acts follow through," the Demacian grimaced, "I would rather die than do so."
Gerris raised an eyebrow, "Then why stay loyal for so long? You could've turncoat when the armies first engaged. You could've even offered your old Prince's head on a pyke to us. Yet instead, you defended him. Why?"
The Demacian gave a sad smile, "Let's just say I had personal reasons for that."
Gerris let silence fill the room. He glared at the Demacian for long seconds before speaking again. His voice was like gravel and rubble.
"I won't be letting you into my warband," he declared.
The Demacian's face fell, then morphed in controlled rage, "I thought Noxus would accept anyone if they could prove themselves worthy."
"You think you're worthy?"
"I defeated your men, didn't I?"
"That's why I'm not letting you into my warband," Gerris clarified, "How could I trust you, especially when you claim 'personal' allegiances to the Prince."
"I-"
"But, I never declared you would not be a Noxian."
He stood up and went to the back wall if his tent, where his personal weapon rack lay. He clutched two weapons: a halberd and sharpened shield. He would use them to find the worth of the Demacian. Turning wordlessly, he raised the halberd, aiming for the Demacian. His target's eyes widened as he threw the halberd.
The halberd shattered the Demacian's cuffs.
"If you wish to be Noxian, you will prove yourself. You will do so as many prisoners of war have before you," Gerris declared, "You will fight in the Reckoning Pits."
The Demacian stood up, gripped the shaft of the halberd, then smirked, "A bit heavy, but this will do. You're going to train me?"
"Do you doubt me?" Gerris laughed, "Hear me, boy! I am Gerris of Drekan, the Ironhead. You may have talent, but that's nothing before will. And I will for you to die!"
Gerris gripped the sharpened shield in his left hand and took his main weapon – an imposing one-handed axe – in his right. He pointed the weapon at the Demacian.
"Prove you can survive, and you can make it to the Pits. Prove yourself in the Pits, and you can become a Noxian. If not, then I will take joy in knowing the men you slew were avenged!"
"…Xander."
"Hmm?"
The Demacian smirked, "Call me Xander."
Gerris smiled cruelly, "You'll earn that name as well!"
Their fight commenced with sparks of steel.
Despite the culture shock, it only took them two days to integrate.
It wasn't like there was much to do, at least on his end. Move this there, move that there, rest, repeat. It was a lot like downtime in the Trifarian Legion, only worse. In the legion, you had to be on your toes in case of an ambush, or rapid deployment. This was just running down the clock.
Muscles aching in all the right ways, Gerris stretched. Sweat glistened on his body, highlighting his muscles in the sunlight. He closed his eyes, sighing as he basked in his own satisfaction.
"Sorry to say, no one is ogling you, Gerris," a deadpan voice cut in.
Erret sat by him on a crate, drinking from a water skin. His torso – smaller and slimmer but no less defined - was also bare. It was only convenient; all the heavy lifting they were doing was bound to build up sweat. There was no need to waste a tunic or a shirt on the work.
"You have to rain on my parade?" Gerris asked.
"I think, with how you've been with Yin, it's probably comeuppance," Erret replied cooly.
Gerris grinned, "Concerned for your lady-friend?"
"She's not-"
Gerris gave Erret a pointed look.
"…Ok, how did both of you figure it out?" Erret finally asked.
"When the quiet guy starts yapping, well, that gets people interested," Gerris explained, "To be honest, there could only be so many reasons for you."
Erret sighed, then stood up. "I didn't tell Xan about my love life, I won't be telling you."
Gerris' smile couldn't be more infuriating, "I didn't expect you to."
With a growl, Erret tossed Gerris his waterskin. The only ex-reckoner greedily partook of the drink before returning the skin. Erret grimaced when he took it back; it wasn't empty, but damn close to it.
"One more shift after lunch, right?"
"Mmm," Gerris replies, "Aren't you glad Xander saved your twig arms from work?"
"I may not be as big as you are, but I can handle another load of crates," Erret replied, "As long as I'm not cleaning horse shit from some noble woman's carriage, I'll be fine."
"I'd drink to that."
Erret raised the near empty waterskin to Gerris' gaze, "You can when we actually have some to spare."
Gerris shrugged and sat down. Backing into the shade to avoid the glaring sun, he sighed.
"You think Xander and Yin like their new job?"
"Couldn't say with Yin," Erret answered, "She always wanted to help in her family; apparently, the local economy interested her for a bit. I suspect some of the skills she learnt then would translate."
The saboteur finished off his waterskin with a long sip.
"Xander's fucked though," Erret finished.
Gerris chuckled, "I'd make a joke, but I get him... there, anyway."
Erret sighed, "You still doubt him?"
"... I don't think he's a traitor anymore... but..." Gerris' voice dropped low, "He's hiding something. He has been the entire time, and I... I don't know what he's thinking. As it turns out I never did, and..."
"Yeah."
"Yeah," Gerris repeated, out of words to explain his mood.
"I get it," Erret admitted, "When Xan and I were infiltrating the Black Rose I almost thought he'd betrayed the General. Then he'd tell me in secret that he was planning to expose LeBlanc, then… It worked out, but I suppose that feeling is still present."
"Then how are you able to trust him?" Gerris asked.
Before Erret could respond, a voice cut-in to their conversation, "Hey, newbies, get over'ere!"
Their boss for their new role, a broad-shouldered man named Erdrich, was temperamentally similar to Xander. A fusion of Demacian idealism and Noxian grit, he was a joy to work with; encouraging his employees to work harder, whilst working himself as well. Circumstances of birth were the only difference between the heavy lifter and the Left Hand; where Xander was born in Demacian aristocracy, Erdrich was born on the shores of the town near House Sharpstem.
And whilst Xander idealized Demacia (or at least, seemed to), Erdrich did the same for Noxus.
Erret and Gerris followed Erdrich, sitting by him. Erdrich had gathered other workers from the town to join him; the would-be workmates that both of the infiltrators had somewhat ignored over the past two days. The workers didn't seem to hold it against them, instead looking at them with wide eyes. Gerris smiled; it reminded him of the rookie reckoners he'd have to show the ropes to back at Noxus Prime.
"So you guys come from Noxus, right?" Erdrich asked.
"Well, don't go yelling it out from the rooftops," Gerris joked, "But yeah, that's right."
The next question was predictable, "What's it like there?"
Other workers chipped in their curiosities.
"Are the Reckoning Pits as dangerous as they say?"
"Are mages treated fairly there, or still hated?"
"Does Noxus really hate kings?"
"Do you have to join the army?"
"Is it true that people can get away with murder?"
The last question caught Erret off guard, prompting the saboteur to give a stuttering reply, "W-well, kinda? I mean, there are always consequences, and you can't kill people because then people will try kill you. And there's also secret societies who can kill people and get away with it because they have the power to get away with it... there's also accidents sometimes at the Reckoning Pits, but not as much-"
"Erret, let me do the talking," Gerris cut in.
The saboteur nodded, letting the ex-reckoner take charge.
"For those who didn't hear through that jumble of words: yes, you can kill people," Gerris explained, "But, that isn't to say Noxus' streets are bloodbaths. Loyal friends of your victim could kill you for your crime. Take that effect for every person, and... In a sense, it's like how things happen here, only less polish. There's no honor codes or justice to be had. You're free to do what you want, but not free of the consequences. So, have the sense to keep your head down or the strength to keep it up, and you'll be fine."
The worker who asked nodded, content with the answer he received.
"Moving on to the army, well, you don't need to join," Gerris continued, "If you don't have the stomach for war, you can try another profession. It just so happens that the army's the best way to make a name for yourself. As for kings and mages, Noxus values all people according to their ability. If you're a mage using your powers to help Noxus, you're free to go. If you're born to some idiot with a fancy chair and you inherit their stupidity, you can piss off. And on that latter end, if you make the lives of those you quote unquote "rule"? Well, expect a visit from a legion soon. The shit going on with mages in this country wouldn't fly in Noxus."
Various noises of awe came from the hybrid Demacian-Noxian audience. Gerris crossed his arms, a content smile on his face. He turned his gaze to Erdrich.
"Let's try avoid the mess of questions you guys spat out earlier," Gerris said, "We'll answer questions one by one, and who knows? Maybe after this you'll be ready to be a true Noxian!"
Despite being a mix of young and old adults, the cheer of agreement that came from the workers seemed more appropriate for a group of kids. Gerris shook his head. Spreading it this way - like a prophet sharing the words of the Gods - was not what he had originally envisioned when Xander approached him with the mission to "Change Demacia." It was a ridiculous notion, but now?
Gerris chuckled. Damn Xander and whatever plans he held. He'd enjoy his time in this worthless kingdom regardless.
Xander, Yin noted, was not enjoying his time back in Demacia.
It was quite the role reversal between them, she thought. On his first day learning under Lady de Recht, he had been mildly curious, and, of course, dutiful. He absorbed every lesson like a sponge, whilst Yin felt like dirt by his side; soaking it up slowly but losing composure in the process. The Left Hand got to work that night, hoping to finish his assignments early.
Yin, on the other hand, retired early. Between the day's work and the previous night's nightmares, she finally opened up the vial of blood Xander gave. He didn't know what exactly was in the vial, but it didn't seem to matter to her. Based on Yin's reaction the vial was an exquisite specimen that nearly took from her the willpower to ration it. Nonetheless, the vial did its work. With a clearer mind, she got to work with bravado by sunrise.
As for the Left Hand... he would be best described as drowning in paperwork.
A description Lady Elia found amusing, given her shit-eating grin (or the noblewoman's restrained equivalent).
"Should I have you file your own death certificate?" she asked.
"Ffffuck offff..." Xander snarled with the viciousness of a newly hatched basilisk.
As the matron of Sharpstem walked away, Yin felt inclined make her own comment.
"I told you pulling an all-nighter was a bad idea," she teased, grinning.
"I've killed people with less sleep on my schedule," the Left Hand growled.
"So it's the paperwork," Yin assumed, "You can kill a whole warband, assassinate high-profile Black Rose members, and win the Fleshing against Draven, all without batting an eye. Yet, a single stack of papers and your brain melts."
"I'm fine doing paperwork, as long as it's actually interesting," Xander said, "Tell me about troop deployments. Tell me about arranged marriages or the renewal of pacts…"
"…These papers are telling you about those things?"
"Maybe yours are," Xander sighed, "I, for one, don't have the patience to learn about the fifty-third complaint on an exotic oil some jumped-up Laurent scion made."
"Maybe a few hours' extra sleep could've given you that patience?"
The Left Hand scowled, "Were it so easy…"
Scribbles filled the silence as Xander got to work.
"Damned demon…"
Yin did a double take before asking, "Wait, what was that?"
The scribbling stopped. Xander paused, and Yin could practically see the gears turn in his head. Her own mind raced as well, recalling blinding white eyes piercing her soul. Xander usually was good at managing his time; including sleeping. Of course, he had decided to work later, but he never explicitly called for an all-nighter. In hindsight, his behavior was irregular, nonsensical. If the same thing that happened to her on the first day happened to Xander, however...
Eventually, the Left Hand rested his forehead against the desk and sighed.
"Did I say that out loud?"
"Yeah."
"… Just ignore me."
"No, you just said demon," Yin's voice dropped with concern, "What's going on?"
"It's nothing."
"If you're being haunted by a demon, then I'd say it's something."
The Left Hand sat up and glared at Yin.
"Look, you're on a need-to-know basis and right now-" Xander stopped himself and sighed, "There's nothing to say. Apologies for snapping."
As Xander rested his head against the desk again, Yin bit her tongue to stop herself from blurting out a rushed response. Xander was on the defensive; she'd need to pick her words carefully...
"Xander, if this is related to the mission, I - no, we need to know," Yin urged, "You can trust us."
"Hmmm, can I though…"
Yin's breath hitched.
"…Could I trust someone whose intent I do not know…"
She widened her eyes.
"… Could I trust a…"
Xander stopped speaking, but the implication had already left his lips.
"… I said that out loud again."
Yin didn't dare say.
"Ok, so I did," Xander sat up again, sighing in aggravation, "I would've liked to keep that to myself for a bit longer, but…"
Yin paled further, "You know. You know I'm-"
"A spy?" the Left Hand gave a short bark of laughter, "I've known of your allegiances since before I asked you to join me… and for the record, I knew of the others'… tasks as well."
The glint in the Left Hand's eye prompted a stutter in the usually composed hemomancer, "H-how did you know?"
"You and your family were employed by Vladimir when I first met you. Nothing has changed that fact," Xander simply stated, "In the same way, Erret and Gerris were born commoners; they owe the lives they know to the Noxian Legion. It only makes sense that they would accept the Grand General's mission."
The Left Hand turned his gaze away from Yin, instead looking to the door through which Lady Elia had departed, "I'm rather insulted LeBlanc didn't send a spy of her own. But I suppose funding our whole operation here does enough."
Yin breathed slowly and shut her eyes, "What will you do now?"
Xander was silent for a moment before chuckling, "I've known this whole time, yet I've done nothing. Why would that change now?"
The disbelieving silence still held tension. Xander's tone dropped.
"I understand why you would spy on me. It's what expected of you. And, arrogant shit he may be, Vlad is a rather menacing guy," Xander spoke calmly, "You're all doing your duty, and your doubts are valid concerns. I can't judge you for that."
"… There's a catch," Yin glared at Xander like a cornered animal, "There has to be… what's your game?!"
"There is no game," Xander chuckled, "I'm not going to kill you, or Erret, or Gerris. We're friends. Friends don't kill each other. That's it."
"That's…"
"Naïve? Dare I say it, Demacian?" Xander's grin widened.
Yin grit her teeth, unable to say anything. She knew that Xander was hiding something. This explanation, whilst certainly viable – they were friends, after all – was not the whole truth. It was likely a veneer to hide Xander's true intent. But what was it?
"You think I care about you being Demacian?" she asked.
"I've returned to my homeland," The Left Hand noted, "I'm an asset to your boss – all of them, mind you. I've done my job well. But… I am Demacian. You don't care about the possibility – just the possibility - of someone like me turning coat to against your homeland's main rival?"
There was a short pause before Yin responded, "No."
"No? You don't?"
"My sister told me to watch you for Lord Vladimir," Yin admitted, "But, she never said I'd need to betray you. She never told me to kill you, or interfere in your plans."
The Left Hand scoffed, "If I walked up to the Prince of Demacia and declared fealty, offering my skills and knowledge of Noxian political and military affairs, you wouldn't do anything? At all?"
Yin grimaced, "I would have to do something… begrudgingly…"
"And ther-"
"Gerris and Erret would, after all."
Xander paused, "Oh? Erret would?"
"… bastard…"
Xander was now perplexed, "… sorry, what was that?"
"You're such a bastard, you know that!"
A truly out of character display ensued: the Left Hand backed away from the angered hemomancer. Yin, ever the bold one, went on the offensive on her boss.
"You're trying to guilt me into shutting up, yet you have the audacity – the audacity - to say you're my friend; you're our friend," Yin's emotions spurred magic as her pupils turned redder, "Do friends keep secrets from each other? Do friends threaten to betray each other to force them to.. to… ugh! How, why would you do those things?!"
Xander looked away. The vengeful side to Yin's heart burned with satisfaction; at least the Left Hand had the decency to feel shame. Her anger was tempering, but she continued her assault.
"Well?" Yin glared at Xander, "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"… secrets… Secrets are the trade of the court, don't you know that?!" The Left Hand's voice rose to crescendo; a drizzle turning to a storm. The lesser showers of words were punctuated by thunder, "I will admit this, Yin; returning to Demacia has always been my plan. Not to turncoat, but to make it a better place. But your bosses… they want me to fail. They don't believe I can do it, and believe the safest option would be to have me as. Their. Pet. But, I am more than their monster. I will do more than kill on their behalf… and I've come too far to let my mission fail because someone misinterpreted my intent or words or actions!"
Xander put a hand over his face and sighed. The storm faded. "Is that enough for you?" the question came out in a whisper.
"No, it isn't," Yin answered after a pause. There was a heat in her voice, like a forged sword cooling in oil, "… You said it yourself, you're our friend. Do you really think of us that badly?"
"No, I… I suppose I have disrespected you," Xander pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm sorry. I just couldn't risk it. Your bosses, heh… a single secret they know about you could… could…"
The Left Hand was silent for a moment, and Yin paused in pensive expectation. The predictions she thought of ended up being worthless, however. Another storm rose, but not a swirl of anger. Starting with giggles then rising to perhaps absurd guffaws, the Left Hand laughed like a man possessed.
"Those sons of bitches!" he forced out between laughs, "Damn bastards…"
The laughter subsided, "Heh heh, ah… I'll have to get them back for that."
Yin had assumed after her outburst she would have the Left Hand at her mercy. Now, the tables had turned yet again. Like poking a sleeping beast, she made to speak.
Xander spoke first, however, "Oh, I have wronged you guys. I… don't think a basic apology's going to cut it. Heh… oh those bastards…"
"Which bastards?" Yin cautiously asked.
"Oh, your bosses. They played me," Xander broke into chuckles, "Conniving shitheads, they are. Don't know how they plan on getting me back if their plan went through, but… they should know I hate that. Oh, they are getting it!"
Yin gulped. Perhaps it was the conversation's context, or maybe it was his tired red eyes, but she never before had the Left Hand looked so unhinged.
"I'll explain everything to you later," Xander finally declared, a somber tone filling his voice.
Yin blinked, "I'm sorry?"
"I'll confess. I'll say everything later," Xander repeated. His pensive mood held for a moment, before shifting to a chipper, nonchalant one.
"Oh, and as a teaser, I'll explain the demon thing. He's..." Xander paused and rested his chin on his hand, "Well, it would be insulting to call Nocturne my pet. I guess he's my servant? No… Bodyguard? Familiar? That sounds about right. But yeah, I have a demon familiar… enh, it doesn't sound as cool."
"I'm sorry, just…" Yin pinched the bridge of her own nose before looking to Xander with an irritated glare, "Correct me if I'm wrong here..."
"Go ahead."
"You know we've – or at least, I've – been instructed to spy on you."
"Yep."
"And we've been trying to be subtle about it…"
"Yep."
"But you know… and you're not going to in any way seek compensation."
"It would be a dick move."
"And, still knowing we're spying on you, you're going to reveal everything. To us."
"… Yes," Xander raised his pointer figure as he digressed, "And for the record, I won't be doing it here, so as to not get LeBla-"
"Excuse me?!" Yin exclaimed, probably bursting a vessel in her brain, "You're going to just do that?! Like that?!"
Xander blinked but maintained a smile on his face. "I've wronged you. There is no reason for me to keep my secrets. So, I'll share them. I don't think it'd be a big enough apology, but… well at least you'll know."
"And we're just supposed to accept it?"
"Well, it's up to you," Xander shrugged, "Some of the shit I've been through is quite unbelievable… but I'll say it anyway." Yin could only look to Xander with disbelief at the absurdity he'd thrown at her lap.
So Xander broke eye contact and went back to work, "Also, I don't want to repeat myself… so sorry, you'll have to wait for the meeting later."
As scribbles filled the room again, Yin could only gape, growl, and resume her own work as well. Her mind raced with a new rage. Indeed, the Left Hand was audacious. Or mad. Regardless, that apology was half-assed at best. Perhaps she would get information – for herself more than Lord Vladimir – by day's end, but…
That explanation better be worth it.
When Yin asked to speak with him personally in the room after lunch, Erret thought watching Gerris inflate his ego all morning was worth it. When he saw barely contained anger in her eyes, however, that hope faded quickly. As he took his seat by the bedside, he realized only one thing between breakfast and lunch could've pissed her off so…
"Erret, I need to know…" the first words that left her lips were spoken with an odd desperation, "Did Xander tell you anything?"
Erret sighed, "So he confronted you."
"I confronted him," Yin replied, "What did he tell you?"
"That he knew about me and Gerris being spies, nothing else," Erret answered, "At least, nothing I already knew."
The fire in Yin's eyes flickered, teetering to the point of inferno; and Erret's breath hitched when it turned on him.
"What did you already know?" she asked.
"He's a Demacian at heart," Erret spoke slowly, cautiously, calmingly, "He always has been. You know him, always helping the rookies or naturally weaker people in the warband… finding a place for them to be effective in the group…"
"How is this relevant?"
"He's an idealist," Erret said, "He acts according to Demacian ideals – justice, fairness, the sort. I think he does it because living here he was robbed of those ideals; he knew that this kingdom, for all its talk, doesn't truly show it. He thought he could make it work in Noxus…"
"Is he an idealist, or a zealot?" Yin cut her lover's rant, "I'm not sure if he's made it clear to you, but I doubt Xander would hesitate to kill us if it meant his 'ideals' survived."
"I don't think an idealist Demacian would kill his friends."
Yin scowled, "Well, I don't think an idealist Demacian consorts with demons and threatens his friends and-"
"Wait, what was that about demons?"
Yin squinted, snorted, and spoke, "Xander said he had a nightmare-demon-thing as his servant. Or something. It was named Nocturne; he said that's how he knew we were spying on him."
"Hmm, like the Grand General… no wonder he knew about him."
"Wait, the Grand General has a demon?" Yin's anger was replaced by curiosity, if only briefly, "I thought he had a Piltoveran limb?"
"According to Xander he tamed a demon and made it his hand; to replace the one he lost in Ionia," Erret explained, "He went to Piltover as an alibi. But we're getting out of topic."
Yin raised a hand to make the point, but shut her mouth when Erret beat her to it, "Right, where were we?"
"Xander's sanity, I believe was the topic," Erret recalled, "And… I get your concerns, but Xander isn't insane. He's smart, extremely committed – to his ideals and his job – and he's a damn good fighter, but not crazy."
"Well, sure, but he's still consorting with demons," Yin pointed out, "Isn't that cause for concern?"
"The Grand General has a demon. LeBlanc is apparently an immortal, and Lord Vladimir eats people."
"They're all relatively insane."
"They didn't start out that way…"
"You can't be sure of that." Erret pinched his chin in thought, "…was anything off about him when you spoke to him?"
"He was defensive about his actions at first, then aggressive when I pushed him," Yin reflected, "He did say he was sleep deprived, but even then, he's never that bad…"
After a pause, Yin got the implication, "You think he's being possessed?"
"Demons influence their hosts, regardless of how much control said hosts have over them," Xander noted, "Of course, it was difficult to learn that from Swain, given he's…"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right, you haven't met Swain," Erret sighed, "Well, I'd assume Xander's demon deals with paranoia or fear, or anger…"
"And he's acting that way because of the demon?"
After a pause, Erret groaned into his hands.
"No, demons only worsen pre-existing situations. They're reflections of humanity, feeding on our worse impulses," Erret explained, "But Xander would need to have those to begin with… You may be right…"
"So he's been like this from the start?"
"He's always been an idealist, as I said," Erret growled, "I hoped he'd play this smart. He's taking massive risks, never mind the demon… why is he…"
"He always planned to come back," Yin said, "He told me he always planned to return to Demacia."
Erret's breath hitched, "… he always planned to come back. He always… damn it!"
Yin put a hand over Erret's shoulder, "What is it?"
"I suspected as much, but now I know for certain…" Erret growled, "Xander… he came to Noxus because he knew he could better himself here. He wanted knowledge of how other lands dealt with Demacia's problems, and power to make those changes. He…"
Yin's expression morphed with shock, "He's been like this from the start?!"
"No, he was more tempered. His mission here was a pipe dream; he would've settled for life in Noxus if it was his only option. But, now that he's here… he's closer to his dream than ever," Erret realized, "It must be getting to him… and that demon isn't doing him any favors. We'll need to confront him."
"Xander told me that he would share all his secrets with us by today," Yin said.
"That will do…" Erret sighed, and the pressure on Yin's arm deepened slightly.
Sensing her lover's plight, she pulled him into a hug. Erret reciprocated.
"I know you two aren't very close but-" he started.
"He's still my friend. And your best friend," Yin replied, "That's more than enough for me. We'll help him."
Erret was silent in thought before he whispered, "I hope we still can."
Much ran through the mind of the Left Hand as sunset fell.
Watching behind him, he made sure that his team – and only his team – followed closely. He felt - or perhaps it was more accurate to say suspected - various levels of doubt and anger behind him. He sighed under his breath; the game was getting to him and his team. And with what he had planned, the last thing he'd want to appear as would be a hypocrite…
Scratch that, a dictator ruling by fear would be even worse. And no less possible.
After ten minutes of eternity, they arrived. It was as Nocturne said: a stone shrine stood a short walk away from the mansion grounds. It was a gazebo in shape, with a roof and many pillars overgrown. Window openings still displayed a view of a nearby pool of water. At the shrine's center was a statue of a woman. The faded paint spilling over the statue's eyes might've suggested to Xander's team that it was an homage to the Matron of the Black Rose. She even held a staff of sorts, with a loose chain pattern wrapped around it. And, in one hand was the shape of a blindfold. The first was the weapon of LeBlanc, the latter an allusion to her illusion magic; that was what they'd see.
Xander knew better. The staff was the wrong shape, ending in a T shape rather than LeBlanc's crescent staff. The scent reminded him of the scent of saltwater and the release of letting go of weights. It all added up to a single identity, but there were some discrepancies from what he knew.
Well, I suppose there's room for artistic licensing...
The identity of the statue didn't matter much, for the shrine had a new master. The feeling of ash and anticipation in the air told him as much. The large blades hidden in nooks and crannies - not so inconspicuous if one knew what to look for - were only dressing.
Alright. Showtime.
"Alright. We're here," he declared.
The team stopped in their tracks. Xander hoped it was a subconscious decision they did to corner him against the shrine's wall. Regardless of his position, he straightened his back and turned to face his team.
"So, why'd you bring us out here?" Gerris asked with crossed arms. He was unarmed, but still formed an imposing shape.
"I'd rather not share my secrets in a place controlled by the Black Rose, thank you very much," Xander answered.
"We're still in Black Rose territory," Erret noted.
"True, but they don't have listening wards here. I'm more comfortable with that fact," Xander replied.
He let the sling bag on his shoulder fall to the floor, revealing its contents, "And, if they asked, 'picnic in the ancient gazebo' is my excuse. Sandwiches, anyone?"
"Uh huh..."
The team sat down and partook of the snacks. The silence nearly gave Xander a chance to recollect himself. Gerris' stare at him attracted his attention though. He figured Gerris would take this opportunity, but the ex-reckoner seemed to be more cautious.
"What made you decide to suddenly be honest?" Gerris asked, brow still furrowed with suspicion. At least he's trying to not be accusatory.
Xander answered with a brief moment's hesitation, "You guys deserve my honesty. You're my friends after all."
When Gerris' analytical stare did not dissipate, the Left Hand continued, "It also helps that all of your bosses already know all they could know about me; yours especially."
Gerris' eyes widened when he realized the implication. Gerris turned his glare to Erret, but the saboteur gave an explanation before he could ask.
"He figured it out before I left."
"You didn't tell him?"
"Even if he didn't Xander would've figured it out," Yin cut in, "It's how he figured out I was spying for Vladimir."
Gerris turned to Yin and spoke in curious tone, "…that hemomancer socialite? The one who's been talking shit about the Trifarix?"
"Who also happens to actually be an immortal vampire, and perhaps the first human hemomancer," Erret cut explained, "Swain knew he had ties to the Black Rose Cabal, hence why he sent me and Xander to him. And hence why Yin's with us now."
Gerris went silent; Xander could all but see the gears turning in his head. The ex-reckoner eventually scowled at Yin before turning back at him.
"So you've been taking note of us all. You knew where our loyalty was and you still let us follow you. Why?"
Xander sighed at having to repeat himself, "As I said, I trust you guys."
Gerris scowled, seemingly trying to understand Xander's words. Xander was being sincere in his words. Unfortunately, Gerris seemed to find something wanting in them.
Makes sense. He's known I've been Demacian before everyone else.
"Bastard..." Gerris growled, "How did you even figure us out?!"
"That would be me..."
The reactions the team displayed were all but predictable. When Gerris turned to Xander's direction and saw the black ghost hovering over him, he yelped in shock and nearly fell over. Yin seemed less unnerved, but her skin paled and she backed away. Erret actually did fall, but he quickly recovered and unsheathed his dagger.
The Left Hand cared little about his teammates' reactions, instead focusing a mounting range on the living nightmare above him.
"Dumbass, wait for your que!" Xander yelled.
"Your time is limited, spies are on the way," Nocturne noted, "I'm taking the fastest option."
"You're going to give them a fucking heart attack!"
"You exaggerate. Their fear is potent, but not that f-"
"What is that?!" Gerris asked, nearly shouting, cutting the conversation off. He had taken his own knife from his belt and entered a combat stance, "Ho-How do you know that thing?!"
"That is quite the long story," Xander said, "But of course, that is why we're here..."
The Left Hand paused, then shrugged, "It seems you were right, Nocturne. How good are you with that spell I found?"
The demon nodded. The blades around the shrine flew to him, and his form darkened. Umbral runes appeared, glowing an eerie indigo around Nocturne. An alien tongue rattled in the ears of Xander and his team. A shadowy cloud took shape around the demon like an aura, but his silhouette grew dense enough to still be visible within. Xander's team backed away even further. A futile attempt, given that their backs were now against the shrine's walls.
"The light is fading..." rasped Nocturne, emanating black smoke. Soon, there was no light for Xander and his team to see. Xander sighed as the night consumed him.
A bit rushed, but all according to plan.