The Left Hand of Noxus, for a brief moment in time, held a peaceful look on his face.
A content smile matched with calmly closed eyes informed him that Xander indeed enjoyed his slumber. Clad in a simple tunic and soft pants, the Left Hand intended comfort. His skin looked healthier than usual, a smooth, vibrant tan. He lay on his bed, muscles relaxed, with only wisps of magic smoke betraying effort. As well as a rune on his forehead, but what else could be done?
He, Nocturne, had done as his master asked.
The demon hovered over his master's body like the Kindred over a corpse. It was only fair of him, Nocturne thought. The demon had been granted some level of humanity by Xander. He still remembered how his chest ached when Xander gifted him the emotions of guilt, as well as the warmth in his neck when he was granted empathy as a release. Even as his tastes rebounded, and he consumed the nightmares of others instead of Xander's, the Left Hand seemed to care for him. For what reason he could not understand... But to delve into his own psyche for deep pain, only to use it as seasoning another's dream diet... the illogical nature of it infuriated Nocturne at times.
The sound of a door opening echoed. Nocturne looked, even though he knew who it was.
"Erret of Bloodcliffs," Nocturne rasped, "You came for him."
The saboteur stood, body tense. His grey-black hair, usually kept somewhat neat, was unkept and glossy; perhaps he had run from the gazebo. His eyes were almost as terrifying as his own, a dark brown between coal and wet mud. They promised vengeance if it was needed.
"Yes," Erret approached cautiously, "Why are you here?"
"Dream mage he may be, Xander still needs help to delve deeper."
"Delve deeper?"
"Time flows differently in dreams; longer lasting the further you go," Nocturne explained, "I deepen his dreams so he can experience them longer."
"And you don't take advantage of his sleep state?" Erret crossed his arms as he reached his bed.
"Once upon a time, when he was weak and I... blind," Nocturne confessed. He snarled at the memory. It was a simple time, then.
"He is skilled enough at manipulating dreams to force me out if need be," Nocturne continued, "We have an agreement now."
"But you still harm him."
"When I am instructed. He accepts the torment. Or the pleasure; he has fed me more than fear..." Nocturne's voice had the sound of a smile, "It is why I have some inkling of what you fleshlings do with your..." the demon gave a low, disgusted growl, "...disgusting lives..."
"So you gain a soul," Erret snarled, "What does he lose?"
Nocturne seemed to look away, "Enough for your concern... in truth, it disgusts me. What I know of his choices. And I partake all the same..."
Nocturne paused, assessing Erret. There was doubt in his eyes, but also the steel of determination. And something else...
"You fear me, don't you, Erret of Bloodcliffs?"
"You're a demon," Erret tensed his jaw, likely gritting his teeth, "It's only natural to fear you.
"What I am is of minimal concern to you, though," Nocturne accused, "Isn't that right?"
"Of course."
The saboteur and living nightmare glare at each other. Erret's hands lowered to his belt, and Nocturne felt his form lose corporeality. After a brief pause the demon made the sound of exhaling.
"If you believe I intend harm towards Xander, you are mistaken," Nocturne rasped, "He has made me more than what I was born as. I would not betray that gift."
Erret's eyes softened, and he sighed. After a brief pause, he opened his mouth.
"You care," the words left them both at the same time, prompting a brief pause in surprise.
Erret blinked at the jinx, then replied, "I do. I care for him. He's my friend."
"He is my summoner," Nocturne replied, the growled, "I am not his servant... but I care for him nonetheless."
Nocturne flexed his arm. The tension discomforted him in a way his less corporeal parts couldn't. His chest also felt an odd tightness, one as old as his... relationship with Xander.
The demon shook its head, "But, enough talk."
Nocturne gestured to Erret's bed, "He knew you'd come. I am here to facilitate your entrance."
Erret paused, sitting in pensive consideration.
"You want to help him, don't you... Erret of Bloodcliffs?" Nocturne whispered.
The saboteur nodded after brief hesitation. It wasn't doubt of Xander, Nocturne knew. The demon nodded, channeled mana to his fingers and tapped Xander's forehead. The Rune on it glowed bright again, then faded just as quickly.
"What was that?"
"I alerted Xander of your arrival," Nocturne answered, "I know not what he does currently, but..."
Erret grimaced in disgust, "Lets hope he isn't doing anything inappropriate."
Nocturne gave his unsettling chortle, "I believe the saying goes, speak for thy self?"
"Just do it, demon."
The demon snorted with some level of pride, then hovered a hand over Erret's face. The smoke emanated, filling the saboteur with the sense of exhaustion. Soon, the saboteur joined Xander in the dream scape, leaving Nocturne alone in the room again. The demon stood idle before shutting his eyes. There was much to ponder,and he'd need to go a level down if he wanted time to get even close to an answer.
"Are you looking for someone?"
Erret glanced at his side and found a young woman. She was lithe and fit, though not as muscular as most Noxian military women. She had flawless pale skin, with hair of a silver-blonde that curled ever so slightly in predictable patterns. She wore a white jacket with pink pockets over a plain black shirt similar to those of Piltoveran make. Her face was thin and perfectly symmetrical, and her eyes seemed crafted by the divine; on first glance, they were a soft teal, but a closer look revealed a central indigo glow before the ink black of the pupil. The perfect details gave him the feeling of something inhuman, yet somehow that wasn't the feeling that caused alarm in him.
Erret considered his thoughts and the woman's question and remembered. Just to make sure, he raised a hand to his mouth. He heard that dreams were painless, and a chomp to his finger wouldn't hinder him too much.
The woman stopped him with a laugh sweet like wine, "That won't work. Dreams - especially those cast by dream magic - feel real. For the biting test, you need to expect not to feel pain."
Erret narrowed his eyes, "So if I feel pain even in a dream, what does that mean."
"You expected to feel it, which is what you just did. Or, the primary dreamer wants you to feel it," the woman gave a teasing smirk as Erret's eyes widened, "But Xander bears you no ill will, so you don't need to worry about that."
Erret groaned, then caught the woman's words, "Why ask if you know who I'm looking for?"
The woman smiled, "A refresher question helps snap the inexperienced to lucidity. Other good ones include 'How did I get here?' or 'Is what I'm seeing normal?'"
The woman turned her back to Erret and raised a hand, motioning for him to follow. As he did, he asked himself the questions the woman listed and gained even more lucidity. He had no memory of the place he beheld - a place of tall buildings of geometric angles, a bright sky, and verdant green trees. He had no idea how he had arrived, or even where he got the clothes he wore; a black shirt of thick material with long sleeves and a hood, with rough looking yet soft blue pants. He blinked, breathed, and continued down the paved road.
"Who are you?" Erret asked, passing through a road flanked by trimmed foliage.
"Nobody important," the woman replied, the fading sun twinkling on the eye sent his direction.
Erret blinked then furrowed his eyes, "Are you another dreamer?"
The woman seemed surprised at this assumption, then laughed, "Oh, no. I'm a part of the dream. I'm nobody important..." the woman's face paled with sudden sobriety, "Minus important and that's still a valid statement."
They reached a metal gate. The woman opened it with a card of some kind, revealing entryways to different rooms. The woman gestured to enter one with an open door, to which Erret complied. As the door closed, a shudder filled the noticeably tiny room.
"This is an elevator. It's... a room that's moved up and down a shaft for quick transport. More convenient than stairs," the woman explained with an awkward smile.
"I know what an elevator is," Erret deadpanned.
"O-oh..."
"They're mostly used in Piltover though," Erret notes, "They were more common in Xander's homeworld?"
"Yeah. Yeah! Damn, how did I not know that? He knows, or should know, so I... never mind," the woman recollected herself then continued, "Anyway, yes, Earth has a lot more elevators. At least, the parts of Earth he went to," the woman clarified, "... Xander is at the fifteenth floor."
"You won't follow?" Erret asked.
"I'd be a distraction."
Erret gave a pensive sigh, then asked another question, "You said you were part of the dream. Are you... a memory of someone? An idea?"
The woman smiled, "Closer to the latter. Xander likes to... personify himself. Makes reflecting easier, or something."
"Are you... alive?"
"I... don't think so," the woman frowned, "What I know is that when Xander wakes, I don't follow him. We aren't other personalities if that's what you're asking."
"So basically, I'm talking to Xander now?"
"In a sense. Hi by the way," the woman gave a smirk that was definitely Xander's, "You're talking to a part of him. A part of him that... cares more, I think is the right way to say it.
The room ceased its shuddering with a ding.
"If you're hoping to sneak around and find more about Xander in his own head, well... I won't help. I'm still him after all."
"I meant no harm."
The woman's smile faded, "He doesn't care about that. His head, his rules. Now, go on; you've got a meeting."
Erret took a step before turning and asking, "Did he give you a name?"
"...Ava," she solemnly replied, "Xander said there was a meaning to the name, but his mind is quite a mess. Haven't found it yet."
After a pause, Ava continued, "Perhaps we will meet again."
Erret nodded and watched as the door shut.
He was left in a dimly lit corridor, with only three sources of light: a damaged ceiling light faintly glowing, a glaring green sign that said "Exit", and the crack under a wooden door. Said door had a rack of shoes and slippers outside it. They were of fanciful design, with intricate patterns on them, and some being made of a glossy material. Erret recognized only three sets of footwear native to Runeterra: the merchant wear they used getting into Demacia, slippers purchased in Shurima, and Noxian battle boots. He left his own pair by the door and entered.
Sunlight peered in from glass walls, masked by a thin white curtain. Illuminated cushions framed a low wooden table. Before them was a marble counter, atop which was some odd, flat contraption. A series of moving images were displayed one after the other on the surface of said contraption, accompanied by words. They painted a scene of a conversation between what Erret assumed were two close friends, if not more.
"... even if your destination and result are the same, if you manage to walk a little further afterwards , I know you'll get your proper ending," the subtitles read. The girl's voice speaking in an odd tongue informed Erret which party in the play was talking.
"Mute," Xander's voice cut in. The contraption's sound-maker faded in volume, until silence remained.
Erret looked to the source of the voice and didn't find Xander as he knew him. Instead, it was the man from the apocalyptic vision. He wasn't desiccated like before, instead having a fit but slightly thin frame. His skin was slightly paler than his Runeterran incarnation, but that wasn't out of health concerns. What probably was a health concern was the bags under his eyes. The few pimples on it, he couldn't say. Regardless, Xander wore a dark blue shirt and black shorts, both of that not-quite-Piltoveran machined style. He also sported a guilty look.
"Hi," he greeted simply.
"Xander."
"Please, take a seat."
Erret complied, sitting on the firm yet soft couch cushion. He looked to Xander, prompting him to continue.
"I apologise for walking out on you guys," Xander sighed, "Its... personal stuff, I revealed. I was committed, but not fully prepared for how taxing that would be. Assuming you believe the last part, anyway."
"I'd accept the first," Erret replied, "You didn't seem so invested in the second, despite its gravity. And the third..." he looked around the room, "I'm getting more and more convinced."
"Oh?"
"You're a decent liar at best, mostly good at omitting info," Erret explained, "It seems improbable that you'd fabricate a lie this massive, and commit to it so brazenly... what's the smile?"
"I came to a similar conclusion just a few hours ago. Or rather, minutes, from your point of view," even with a different face Xander's smirk shone like the sun, "I have plenty of videos to show you guys. If you guys are even slightly convinced with just a few cityscapes, you'll be thoroughly so after I explain Ancient Rome."
Xander sighed, muttered something that ended with "moo" under his mouth with a grin, then continued, "Of course, I'm not lying. It's just an absurd truth, and again I doubt you'd accept it. That you seem to... well, it bears repeating: I've really been insulting you. As a friend, and as an intellectual."
"Oh please, don't use that word," Erret smiled, "I'm witty, not a bookworm."
"If you'd like, I have some books in my mind that I'd be willing to lend."
"Really? You've memorized whole books?" Erret scoffed, "How do you remember all this? If you're not lying, you'd have memories for two whole lifetimes!"
"Cumulatively just one," Xander gave a sad smile, "The End of Earth cut my life extremely short. In fact, my life here's been actually longer. And as for how, well... memories never fade. It just gets harder to retrieve them. But, dream magic allows for organization of memories. I don't remember per say, I just need to search my head for the memory. And time dilation deals with the hassle quite well."
"Huh. Sounds useful."
"Again, to delve into the poetics, my dream magic allows me to be a vessel for my old world's history," Xander snorted, "I wouldn't be able to transcribe all of what I currently have on paper anyway, but it's a shame I wasn't more of a big history buff."
"More space for Runeterra, I guess?"
Xander smiled at the jest, but it never reached his lips. He raised an odd bottle made of a material that wasn't quite glass to his lips, drinking the yellow juice within. When he finished, he leaned his head in the couch with a smile.
"You came here, just to check up on me?"
"Someone has to," Erret smiled, "More so than I previously realized. Surely you realize you're burning yourself out? You're not even letting yourself rest while you're sleeping!"
"That's not-" Xander cut himself off when Erret gave him a deadpan stare, "Ok, that's fair; it has been a few weeks since my last dream-break. Not counting this, of course."
Xander turned his gaze to the contraption. He made to speak, but decided against his words. He let the contraption show its final scene; a city fading in sunset.
"... thanks," Xander finally said, "I'll be more... welcoming of assistance, I guess."
"Just like that?"
"Hardly. I've been holding people all at arms length for damn near my whole second life. I may know what to do, but execution is a whole different matter," The Left Hand sighed, "I will at least promise an attempt, if you will accept it."
"Can you keep that promise?"
"I can try. Seriously, I'll try."
Erret chuckled, "I believe you. Thanks, I guess."
"Yeah."
Erret followed Xander's gaze to the contraption with its black screen. His mind wandered, and he came upon a question. Without turning his head, he asked.
"That woman who picked me up. Eva, was it?"
"Ah yes, Ava," Xander's voice was a goblet overflowing with pride, "One of my best work, I think. Shame she doesn't really exist."
"What is she?" Erret asked, "Other than your creation?"
Xander's tone seemed to drop off a bit, "If you're assuming she's her own sentient being then well... I don't actually know. She knows what I know, and everything in my dream either comes from my subconscious or yours. That's how it works, by the way... But, don't think me a cruel god damning a poor soul to life. Oh, that would be unbecoming of me."
"What do you think she is?"
"She's me. A part of me, I think. What else is there?"
"Mmm, I guess if you don't know you don't know."
"Yeah, sorry about that," Xander sighed, "I don't want to be a monster, you know. Not even here, I avoid those power fantasies."
"You're a good person."
"Debatable," Xander replied, "I kill. I lie. I do evil things. But, I do it for a good cause; at least, I hope so."
Xander was silent for a moment. Erret raised an eyebrow as Xander sat up then leaned to rest his elbows on his knees. The Left Hand sighed.
"If you want to help me, help me there," Xander said, "I want the world to be a certain way, but I don't want to turn into a tyrant making my dreams a reality. That'd be worse than anything."
"...You're asking a bunch of Noxians to stop you becoming a selfish bastard. You realize that?"
Xander saw Erret was grinning, chuckled once, and soon both of them were laughing like hyenas. As the guffaws died down, Xander shook his head.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
Xander paused for a moment, then asked his own question, "Say, where's Yin and Gerris?"
"On their way? Should be a few minutes away."
"Range?"
"Five minutes behind me earliest. At most, who's to say?"
Xander chuckled, "Enough time then. Tee-vee, on."
The contraption - the tee-vee? Or was that an acronym TV? - spurred to life and displayed a map he did not recognized. Three large land masses were displayed, perhaps more, if the big one was a conglomerate.
"We've got a lot of time on our hands down here," Xander turned to meet Erret's eyes, "Have any interests?"
Erret made eye contact then broke it to make a pensive pose. "How would I know?"
Xander chuckled and snapped his fingers, "Alright. Let's start with The Human Era..."
"Son of a..." Gerris groaned, "My face is probably on a floorboard."
"There won't be much change to your mug," Yin teased, though her voice betrayed equal irritation, "Mine on the other hand..."
They had walked through the door to their bunk, expecting to see Erret and Xander either sleeping or discussing the visions the latter had shared to them. Instead, they found the two having a picnic on a scenic beach. A bridge of some kind lay in the distance, connecting the beach they stood on to a faraway city; a city that had the same massive buildings in the apocalyptic dream Xander showed them. Yin assumed this scene was of the city before its destruction, but she put that thought away quickly. It wasn't important.
The two approached Erret and Xander as they dined on a bucket of chicken legs.
"... she was a close friend, but hardly a significant other," Xander spoke in musing tones, "Think how you and Yin were a three months back."
"So, basically significant others?" Erret responded, then grimaced, "You miss her?"
"As much as I can after so many years," Xander replied, "I try focus on what I had, not what happened."
"Mhm, fair enough."
At that moment, Xander noticed the new arrivals, "Ah, hello Gerris, Yin."
"Hello Xander, was it your idea to put a sleep spell on us on entry?" Gerris asked with a menacingly deceptive smile.
Xander took it in stride, "Actually, no. I'll talk to Nocturne about that. Sneaky bastard's probably pulling something."
Yin chewed on her tongue, "Should we be worried?"
"Nah, Nocturne's a lil' shit, but he'll stick to my orders," Xander mused, "It's actually quite smart. Any sneaky roses walk in, they get a nightmare to the face."
Xander sat up, taking a thinker's pose, "So... how've you been doing?"
"... Walking back from the gazebo?" Gerris answered the odd question, "I mean, what else would we be doing?"
"Getting dinner? Writing letters to your bosses?"
"It's been only..." Yin caught the mistake and sighed, "Right, dream-time-difference...?"
"I just say time dilation, but that works."
"Well, yeah, time dilation," Yin turned her gaze to her surroundings, "How long has it been for you guys?"
"Around three hours, I think," Erret assumed, "We just moved on to this beach... twenty minutes back?"
"Twenty five," Xander looked to a pocket watch strapped to his wrist then met Gerris and Yin's eyes, "Prior to that I gave a short lecture on summarising Earth's history. I think we got to the Bronze Age Collapse?"
"Yeah," Erret chuckled as he sat up, "Now, I know it's crazy to think Xander's not lying. But, if he is, he can definitely just retire and become a writer. The shit he's been saying..."
Yin narrowed her eyes, then shook her head, "You can give me the rundown later, dear. Or, Xander...?"
"I can organise it for later. Or, you can get it started now, but without me," the Left Hand replied, a bottle of liquor in his hand, "I"m taking a break."
"A three hour history lesson? Yeah, I'll let you off," Gerris noted, "Though, you always did take notes for me back in Shurima. Gods know I can't stand those desert guides"
"Its why I'm leading this mission, and you're not," came the Left Hand's sassy response, "Also, me being an ex-Demacian helps. Regardless, context is king, especially in infiltration."
"Can I just stay in the manor until the revolution picks up? I can just sharpen your weapons or something. Maybe train the workers so we have a mini-warband when the Vanguard shows up."
"We'll find a use for you, don't you worry," Xander smiled, "Want some chicken?"
Yin and Gerris sat down, and the latter looked into the bucket Erret and Xander were dining on.
"An Earth delicacy?" Gerris asked.
"I wouldn't say delicacy," Xander grinned, "The term is for is fast-food, and the brand is 'Kentucky Fried Chicken'. It wasn't very healthy, but in a dream I can enjoy the taste for free."
"By taste he means mostly salty, with more interesting salt and crunch on the side," Erret chipped in.
Given Yin's reaction of a simple nod upon eating it, Gerris assumed it was an apt description.
"Do you have something sweet instead?" the reckoner asked, "Had my salt fill from the pork last night.
With a smirk, Xander conjured an apple from thin air and threw it at Gerris. The reckoner caught it and was surprised to find that it fit nicely in his massive hands. Perhaps it was grown to be bigger? When Gerris bit into it, he found that sweetness was also increased, but not at expense to the refreshing splash of water. It may have been from a dead world, but Gerris found the food quite revitalising.
"I imagine this is comfort food for you?" Yin asked after finishing her first drumstick, "It's not half bad."
"Kind of? This is more destress food after a long week," Xander replied, "I took small boxes of chocolates for daily consumption. Rationed over a week."
"Chocolates, wait, you mean the high-class snack that ex-Ixtali guy started making? It was common in Earth?"
"There were artisans who made mouthwatering products. But, there was a shit ton of cheap stuff as well," Xander grinned, "When I said it was going to be a hit, I spoke from experience."
"Huh. Is that cheating, using experience from another lifetime?"
"Hmmmm... maybe when we get back we can ask Vlad and LeBlanc," Xander grinned, "Though, I suppose I'm an interesting case even there."
"Really, how are you special compared to millenia old sorcerers and vampires?"
Xander opened his mouth to speak, but instead chuckled with an awkward smile.
"Oh, don't tease us like that!" whined Gerris.
"You promised, Xander," Yin's warning was far less threatneing due to the teasing, sing-song tone she used, "You're telling us everything, riiiight?"
Xander chuckled, "I am, I will, just... oh boy, if you didn't go crazy over the other crap then this..."
The Left Hand snapped his fingers, and a contraption rose from the sand. A sleek, thin thing, it was made of metal and reflective glass sheet. Said sheet started out black, but like those lights from Piltover, it blinked to life with white light. The light faded back to black, and a golden logo appeared, titled: "League of Legends".
The logo faded to a scene of greenery. Grey ruins overgrown by a forest gave way to roads. Figures barely distinguishable moved across the sheet as a voice explained what was displayed.
"League of Legends is a team-oriented strategy game," the voice said, as the scene shifted. Rather than the overgrown jungle, the new scene displayed a base with red crystals. The largest one was surrounded by the figures again, with a few being familiar.
"Is that the Crownguard mage?" Yin whispered. It was barely heard as the contraption continued its speech.
"... the goal is to take down the enemy nexus, located in the middle of their base, before your opponents take down yours," the voice explained with a pleasant tone, "That sounds straightforward, but how you get there isn't. So, let's walk you through the basics."
The screen's scene shifted again, displaying a forest holding three clear figures. One was a red female knight with purple skin. To the right of her was a hooded archer with a diamond blue bow. And to the left of them both...
"That's Garen Crownguard," Gerris noticed, "The hell is this?"
The contraption continued, "You'll start by choosing a champion from a list of many, all of whom have their own unique strengths and personalities..."
The video continued, describing categories of champions. The archer was used as an example of a ranged marksman, followed by Garen Crownguard making an appearance next to none other than the Hand of Noxus as 'burly fighters who like to get up in their opponents faces'. Then came Luxanna Crownguard as the example for 'arcane mages'.
Yin caught the implication immediately, but was silent for a long while before speaking.
The contraption continued, "... you gain experience by being in the area-"
"Stop, stop, Xander, stop this machine," Yin finally cut in, "I get what you're trying to say, just, stop this shit..."
The screen faded to black again. Xander glanced at Yin with an awkward smile, as if hiding extreme pain. Given what she had just seen...
"So, uh..." Xander cleared his throat, "You ever have that experience where you wonder what you could do in your favourite childhood stor-"
"You are NOT saying that we're fictional characters back on Earth. That is... absurd bullshit!"
"Well, you're not," Xander , "Runeterra as a whole was a fictional world back on Earth. But, no author could hope to write the story of every single being on it, so you guys don't have to worry?"
None of them seemed particularly amused. Gerris once again made to doubt Xander's words, but Erret repeated his confirmation of the absurd claim. All the while, the ocean past the beach grew restless. Xander winced at the atmosphere.
"What reason do we have to believe this?" Gerris asked, "Or do you only have volume to back it up?"
"... my magic only allows me to peer past the curtain, so to speak," Xander measured his words with care, "My vague knowledge of this game taught me where to look. It's how I knew the nature of Noxus from within Demacia, where the empire is reviled. It's how I knew the Faceless in the Trifarix had a secret society, and how I knew Vladimir was an immortal, before meeting him. Of course, what I'm saying could be coincidence, but-"
"Xander, a point?" Yin stared straight into his soul, "Can you not put doubt on yourself every time you explain something? You can't keep dropping existential questions on us like this!"
"What do you want from me? You want the truth, my truth's are all crazy, and I know that!" Xander broke to a panic, "I mean, you don't have to believe me, I'm just saying what I know!"
"It doesn't matter."
Erret's resigned statement brought the attention to him. He chuckled at their astounded faces.
"It doesn't matter," Erret repeated, "If Xander's telling the truth, and he's cheating a story, then nothing changes. He knows where it could've gone, but I imagine you've already changed things."
"I have. Swain and LeBlanc wouldn't have made amends without my interference... at least, what they have that counts for it anyway. And my old friends in Demacia never had equivalents without me..."
"Then its not like anything's predetermined," Erret noted, "You made a choice which changed things. That means we can make choices to change things as well. Hardly existential. The only thing that's changed is that our spy in the system knows a lot more than we thought."
Erret stood up, "We've got our mission, right? I know my choice. If you're going to try fix this kingdom, then someone has to watch your back. Keep you anchored whilst you peek behind the scenes."
Yin growled as she rose up, "Damn it, I'll help as well. But, you're explaining everything! And I mean everything!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Xander shrugged.
"You're giving us that explanation," Gerris repeated Yin's words, standing as well, "But yes, guess I'm here now. Make it worth it."
Now the only one sitting, Xander sighed, "I just wanted a break..."
With a snap of his fingers, a door rose from the sand. Opening up, the team could see a room filled with desks, seats, and the contraptions Xander had used. The Left Hand rose and held the door.
"Let's just get started..."
Five days in, and they weren't even close to finished.
Gerris hefted the wooden axe and charged with it. Stopping just before the training dummy, he thrust out with the sharp end (or rather, where the sharp end would be on his axe) then raised it up and brought it down, all with a single hand. He turned around and, with the leaden shield he wore to train his arms, he made to shield bash an imaginary foe. He followed up with an elbow and axe slash to behind him, then exhaled. In theory, he'd have killed three enemies in the span of a few seconds.
His muscles ached, so he'd have to rest them. Unfortunate, given his mind was still tired too.
Of course, the first thing they had demanded Xander explain was how a game from his world affected how events on Runeterra played out. All they got was a shrug, some talk about 'multiverse theory' and 'R.O.B.s' (whatever those were, gods knew Gerris wasn't learned enough for this crap, not that Erret and Yin seemed fully understand either) and, in short, an "I don't know". Of course, Erret's whole "doesn't matter" speech applied, so they continued. They followed up with an interogation of the Runeterra secrets Xander was privy to. They still weren't done, but he had at least explained why the Black Rose Cabal influenced the empire since its inception, how Swain played into it, and how they had apparently defeated Mordekaiser a few weeks before the Demacian mission started.
Apparently, knowledge was power. But how that applied to defeating the greatest warlord the world had ever known (who was also an immortal ghost who controlled dead spirits) was far beyond Gerris.
But that was already a lot to take in, so Yin and Erret changed subjects. The politics of the world before, the technologies and arts... the bits that he understood were interesting. The nukes Xander spoke about were troubling, but the more precise options... his military mind salivated at them. Then, there was, of course, philosophy. Xander confessed to not being the most well-read on it, but he was vocal about the ones he knew. He spoke out against brainwashing religions, eugenic ethnostates, the extremes of greed, unity, and anarchy. He spoke for finding purpose for one's self, regardless of the source; he spoke for harmony amongst all peoples; he spoke for a balance of competition and generosity...
It was, admittedly, quite interesting. Especially given the context of the teacher; Xander's obsession with finding middle grounds and paradoxical existences between extremes clearly had an origin.
But, for all they learned, Gerris was left wanting. The volume made Xander's claims more believable (as if all of what he said could be truth, but still, the alternative would be damn absurd), but the intent was still unclear. Xander waxing poetic didn't help. If he believed himself the single heir to a dead world, why not declare himself master of the new one? He certainly had a blueprint in mind, if his ideas of how to fix Demacia were any indication.
He finished a fourth kata with a bit too much force. Even with a blunt wooden training axe, he split the head of the training dummy in two. His thoughts were getting to him. Gerris shook his head; this was why he was vanguard. Put him in the front lines to crush your enemies and he'd be fine. Put him in charge of major decisions, politics, and the like... well... He didn't know how Darius did it.
"Hey, Gerris!" a familiar voice called out. As he retrieved his weapon from its place, Gerris saw that Erdrich had approached him.
"Ah, Erdrich," Gerris fumbled for words, then gestured to the dummy, "Yeah..."
"Uh huh... rough week?"
"You wouldn't believe the half of it," Gerris replied, "How'd you guess?"
"Well, we loyalists of Sharpstem know you're here on business; even the workers like me. When you and yours stop chatting with people for lunch and hang out on your own, well... something's up."
"You don't say..." Gerris glanced his axe, then grinned, "You ever use an axe before?"
"To split wood, not people," Erdrich replied, "I suppose if I want to be a Noxian I'd need to learn the latter, though."
"Not necessarily. All about usefulness, right? If you're squeamish you'll just go to the backline," Gerris flung the axe at Erdrich handle first. The Demacian-born Black Rose loyalist still fumbled it.
Gerris tucked his practice shield closer to him, "But, killing or no, you need to know how to use it."
"Aren't you one of the best warriors in the army?" Erdrich had an awkward smile on his face that betrayed anxiety.
"Legion's what we call it, but... well, who better to teach you then?"
The dull thuds of training weapons filled the hall after. Erdrich was a decent defensive fighter, but his aggresion was atrocious cautious fighter who seemed concerned with hurting his sparring partner. On one hand, Gerris had faced worse before. On the other hand, he'd admit: the Demacian had a hell of a swing. If he trained his eye more, and caught the openings Gerris was leaving more, he'd easily be a threat in the Fleshing pits or on the field.
As they circled each other for another round, Erdrich prompted discussion, "What have you guys been doing?"
There was no way to properly explain what Xander had been saying, so Gerris simply said, "Planning."
Erdrich noticed an opening a split second too late, resulting in a brief exchange that ended with a shove and reset.
"So, what's the plan so far?" Erdrich asked, "Do... you guys need my guys?"
"It is an option we've been considering," Gerris admitted, "Though, if its training you want, I can give it. And you should take it from any other source there is; you and your men. Demacia's going downhill, you'll want to be able to defend yourself."
"Sounds good... you'll be leaving soon, though, right?"
"In a couple days, we head to Meltridge," Gerris answered, "After that, a weekend back here, then a week or more in the Capitol."
"Huh... guess you'll spar with Dauntless Vanguard up there, eh?"
"My boss would skin me alive if I did that," Gerris chuckled, "At least, I think he would. Never can tell with him."
Gerris' body caught up with his busy mind, and he paused in place. Though his face showed solidarity, Erdrich took the stationary action as a queue to attack. Gerris blocked a left slash, used its momentum to flow into a crouch, and swept Erdrich's legs. The Demacian fell over, and was met with the tip of the shield at his throat.
"The last thing you want to do with a shielded, stationary enemy is charge," Gerris chided, "Though, perhaps with a rookie that would've worked. Damn if you aren't strong."
"You really think so?" Erdrich asked as he was helped up, "Damn, then; I was born in the wrong country."
"At least you know that there's a better option," Gerris noted, "... next time you want training, tell me in advance. Damn tired now. Hey, can you put the shield back too?"
"Sure."
The ex-reckoner was silent for a moment. Erdrich returned the training equipment to its rack, he noted the odd, pensive look on Gerris' face.
"You alright there?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah..." Gerris probably wasn't. He cut the crap a moment later, "... Have you ever had doubts about something you once believed in?"
"Well, of course. I'd think most people at Sharpstem have."
"Really?"
"We were raised Demacian, and have Demacian friends in nearby towns, and some of us even have Demacian teachers," Erdrich noted, "We see Demacian problems as we live, and later down the line our Black Rose elders explain them to us. They speak of Noxus, and how things are better in the homeland. We start thinking about Demacia both from a local and Noxian perspective. But we always wonder if what they say of Noxus is true. I mean, some of them haven't even been there!"
Gerris was silent, then took a swig from the waterskin he'd brought along, "How do you know what to believe then?"
"... I suppose you can't. But, something my dad said always got me through it," Erdrich answered, "He said that when the Noxian army fights, they don't fight with hatred, because their enemies could become their allies in the span of a few hours. He said that the empire's strength is that they learn from those they conquer, and because Noxus is always fighting, they're always learning. I guess its the same with belief."
"... so just go with the flow?"
"I guess... but if you don't like where the river takes you, why follow, right? You know what you want, and you can always choose where to go."
"Hmm."
"Oh, is that a pocket watch?"
Indeed it was. Ever since Xander taught them about. the revolutionary idea of watches, they started making ones by strapping them to their wrists with small belts. It was far bulkier than the stuff Xander used in the dream world, but Gerris supposed they wouldn't be able to make those in his lifetime.
"You need the time? Well, it's about half past five," at seeing Erdwich's paling face, Gerris raised an eyebrow, "What is it?"
"Promised the guys I'd meet them in fifteen," Erdwich explained with an anxious chuckle, "I'll need to go!"
"Go right ahead."
Erdwich still called as he ran, "I'll see you tomorrow!"
Gerris concurred then shook his head. The problem remained; Xander's intent was still oh so vague, and every word out of his mouth made it worse. There was still no way to know whether Xander truly had Noxus' best interests, never mind the groups'. And yet, he was supposed to accept it?
As a menacing presence entered the room, the ex-reckoner reflected on the words of his younger associates, and found himself back where he started.
"Nocturne, right?"
He guess correctly; the demon appeared from the floorboards.
"My master requests your attendance to discuss his plans for Meltridge," Nocturne rasped.
"Are we doing a dream conference?" Gerris sighed, exhausted, "I could just take a nap in the corner."
"He suspects you'd prefer softer cushions."
Gerris chuckled, "I'll be right there."
After giving a curt nod, the demon faded away. Mixed emotions bubbling within him, Gerris sighed. He lingered momentarily, then wiped the sweat off of his back. After a minute, the ex-reckoner had his items in a sack, and was on his way back to the manor. Duty called, both for Noxus and for Xander. For better or for worse, Gerris of Drekan would have to answer.
Author's Note: Along with insight into Xander's character, I plan to have fun with Runeterran-Earth culture differences in dream scenes. Not to mention pop culture references, though I believe I'm being subtle.
Anyways, this should end the "intro" arc. I struggled a bit here; didn't want for Xander's team to just accept his word because "why not". Tried to keep some level of doubt, even with the team's loyalty and friendship. Would really appreciate feedback here as to whether I did what I intended.
We'll be starting up the plot in the next chapter, moving on to Meltridge. For those of you who're in the know about League lore, that location should be somewhat familiar.
Also, I started cross-posting to AO3. Links in my account profile.
Thanks for reading this far. Please leave a review with your thoughts so far. Any and all feedback is appreciated.