"Is there a limit on how Demacian something can be? Because I feel like there should be."

Xander snorted at Gerris' comment, but even he had to agree. They beheld the fanciest carriage House Sharpstem had to offer. An undercarriage of metal with reinforced wheels practically guaranteed that terrain would not hinder their transport. As for the housing itself, the carriage holdings were crafted from pure white petricite wood. The roof had thin tiles highlighted with gold rims, and the curtains for the window were a spotless blue.

The intricate silver falcon designs on said curtains were just the cherry on top.

"If you don't mind delaying for a few minutes, I think I need a drop of blood," Yin commented, "Just to balance all of... thisout."

"You can have your fix en route, just close the windows," Xander replied, "Petricite wood is nowhere near as potent as the rock form, oddly enough. But, it absorbs enough that a Mageseeker outside wouldn't be able to notice you getting a blood high."

"You know what? I'll take you up on that."

"Alright, I won't be able to get extra shut-eye, then," Erret noted with some bitterness and bags under his eyes, "Let's get a move on then."

"I promise not to get too crazy," Yin spoke with a sing-song voice.

"Sure you won't."

Xander rolled his eyes as Erret pulled the carriage's deployable staircase and opened the door. As Erret opened the door for his lover, Xander heard Gerris fight back a chuckle with little success. The two 'elders' exchanged a glance as they followed.

The carriage's interior was, as expected, quite luxurious. A tiny table that likely no one would use due to risk of spilling, cushioned seats... Sadly, space was a bit of a premium, due to a few crates packed at the end of the cart.

Nonetheless, Yin lay in a corner of the room and uncorked a vial from her coat. As the hemomancy took effect, Erret took the corner next to Yin's and closed his eyes. Xander and Gerris took the opposite side.

"Just going to let him sleep?" Gerris asked.

Xander replied, "We'll be joining him soon enough."

Gerris nodded, but moments later a puzzled look formed on his face, "Where's your demon?"

"Taking the long way," Xander answered, "As a largely non-corporeal, magic being, Nocturne finds petricite hard to traverse. He can last for a few days in a city, but he'd prefer natural routes."

The Left Hand leaned back against a cushion and took a swig from his water skin, "And it's not like we'll need him immediately anyway... at least, barring absurd bad luck."

"Bad luck... such as?"

"Prince Jarvan deciding to go on a mage-killing holiday with the Dauntless Vanguard around Meltridge?"

"Wouldn't mage killing be his job, after the death of his dad?"

"... ok, bad example, but we should be fine."

A knock at the door cut the conversation off. Xander opened the door again, allowing their host through. Clad in an indigo-blue cloak with gold lining worn over a barely visible white dress, Lady De Recht walked through the door. Xander imagined if she put on a half-mask she'd look the part of a Mageseeker. Without it, she still looked the part of the low noble, what with her raven-black hair done in an elaborate braid design.

"Did I come in at a poor time?"

"Not at all, Lady Elia," Xander replied, "Please, take a seat."

"I believe I will. Oh, and may I have a glass of wine? If I recall correctly, a set should be in the cupboard above you, mister..."

"Gerris. My name is Gerris," the ex-reckoned replied.

"Gerris..." the lady of Sharpstem purses her lips, as if testing how Gerris' name felt on them, "Ah, the reckoner. Apologies for not recognizing, we Demacian spies aren't as... in the know about such topics."

"Completely understandable," Gerris glanced up and found that the carriage did indeed have cupboards. He shook his head at the sight and stood to take the apparent container of drinks. When he found the crate Lady Elia asked for, he grimaced.

"Err, Lady Elia, it would seem your set didn't make the last journey."

Gerris lowered the crate in the cupboard, revealing its contents: a perfectly fine wine bottle and shards of glass that lost their function.

"Mm, that is a such shame," Lady Elia took the bottle from the crate, popped off the cork, and took a swig straight from the bottle. Ignoring the surprised looks on Gerris and Xander's faces, she continued right after, "The glass makes it look refined."

"... are you an alcoholic?"

"I wouldn't go that far... but if I am one, I'm one smart enough to not mix pleasure and business: I'll be fine when we get to Meltridge," Lady de Recht sent a teasing smirk to Xander, "Besides, I suspect you'd rather I not be aware of you and your teams' discussions."

Xander squinted, paused, then replied, "I think we can manage without destroying our host's liver."

Elia laughed, "How caring of you."

Xander paused, then made a show of fighting a yawn, "Apologies, my lady, but my team and I were quite busy planning last night. We'll take a nap."

"Do as you please."

Dismissed, Xander glanced at Gerris and nodded. The reckoner leaned against a window and closed his eyes. Xander tapped the shoulders of the rest of his team, hid a rune on their person, then followed.

He awoke in an offensively red scene. Crimson mists that smelled of blood filled the scene. From an architecture standpoint, Xander identified old Noxian styles. The usual dull red curtains, the dark brick walls... and the red fog that wouldn't get out of the way.

A coughing sound from Gerris to his side told Xander he wasn't alone.

"Why the hell are we in a hemomancy dungeon?" The ex-reckoner groaned.

"I would've thought we'd enter Erret's dream, given he went straight asleep," Xander answered, "I guess the tonic Yin used was stronger than she planned."

"Not quite; you're just late."

Xander and Gerris turned to find Erret standing at a doorway, wearing a refined black shirt with long sleeves, grey pants, and an irritated glare.

"I was in blissful black sleep, moments ago. Then I heard Yin giggling like a madwoman and a red mist appeared," Erret sighed, "Perhaps inviting a mind high on hemomancy wasn't the best play."

"She's your girlfriend."

"She can do as she pleases. I hoped you'd plan around that."

"Fair enough."

Xander looked around, trying to find a trace of Yin. A giggle and a content sigh echoed off the dream walls, but she was nowhere to be seen. Erret crossed his arms.

"Do you know how to find her?"

"No, but with a blood high I doubt she'd be able to process my words anyway," Xander sighed, "How did I not consider... anyway, we'll just have a quick meeting to give you a run down of my plan, then I'll wait for Yin to get sober before telling her. I'll send you to proper sleep after."

"After you tell Yin?"

"Sorry?" Xander shook his head as he noted his mistake, "Oh, no, before."

"Ah, my brother in sleep deprivation."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Another echo of a sigh rattled through the doorway, so Erret closed it off to preserve some of his lover's dignity. With a spark of indigo-blue flame, Xander conjured an Earth couch and table. Gerris took his seat and quickly started the conversation.

"So, correct me if I'm wrong, we have little less than a week to try find a contact to the Mage Rebellion," Gerris said, "We know they'll be hiding from local authorities... I take it you have a plan, Xander?"

"Indeed I do. I have a few plans, actually, which all revolve around a single concept."

"Which is?"

"In this scenario, the Mages are rats, and we don't have or want aid from local exterminators. With that in mind, how do we find them?" Xander paused, then answered his rhetoric, "We make them come to us."

Light formed on the table, making up a model of the carriage they currently slept in. To the side of it was a darker shade with arm blades; Nocturne.

"Plan A is in effect right now, and involves this gaudy contraption," Xander motioned to the carriage, "I can give you the text later, but in summary Sylas and his rebels have been known to attack nobles. Many minor aristocrats have mysteriously disappeared in transit, even with full escorts on carriages."

"So you picked a carriage that exemplifies everything wrong with Demacian aristocracy to use as bait," Gerris noticed.

Xander nodded, "Yes. This carriage being made of petricite wood only helps to this end; they'll be pissed to see petricite flaunted around and-"

"They won't see your magic coming when they attack," Gerris finished.

"I was going to say it'd provide protection against their magic attacks, but that works too," Xander replied, then motioned to the dark-blue shade on the table, "You may be wondering why Nocturne's trailing behind. The answer is... well..."

"We're asleep. You need his help to cover us," Erret assumed, though his tired monotone voice hid his doubt well.

And there wasn't reason for doubt anyway, "Yes. Nocturne being around makes our mission easy. If a mage party attacks, we capture one mage, run like hell, then later Nocturne looks through their mind for more info."

"And if it's Sylas himself?"

"Then we capture Sylas and run like hell," Xander smiled, "I have many words for him... and a direct talk just might get him to cool down."

Gerris was silent for a moment, then nodded, "Sounds good. But you mentioned other plans. Do you wish to share?"

"There are quite a few, so I'll just mention the most and least risky plans, the latter being something I planned to do regardless of the mission," Xander replied, "But first, the risky option: I interrogate one of the local soldiers, or better yet, a local Mageseeker. Steal their work to further our own... I don't think I need to explain the risk."

"You don't," Gerris sighed, "And the less risky one?"

Xander turned his glance to Erret, "Say, what do you think are in the crates up top?"

Gerris rolled his eyes, "Can't you just say the damn thing..."

Erret paused, blinked, then widened his eyes. "Oh. You..."

The saboteur chuckled, "I don't suppose those songs you "heard about" in Noxus were Earth songs, were they?"

Gerris gaped when he caught on, "Are you seriou-"

"I'm a thief, and I keep what I steal," Xander pointed a finger to his head, "But, its not like I claimed ownership. I really did hear it from a friend! And it's not like Earth's copyright laws will be enforced when the planet either doesn't exist or is a smoking ruin somewhere."

Erret snorted, "Well okay, your side gig as a bard is making a comeback... I hate that I'm asking, but why are there so many crates?"

"Just in case. I know you and Gerris can drum decently, and Yin's pretty decent with a lute."

"That was a one-time gig in Piltover."

"She impressed middle and high-class citizens in the City of Progress! She can surely impress a bunch of farmers with mud in their ears," Xander reasoned, "And besides, bringing in you lot's a hypothetical end point. I'm not even sure if Demacian ears appreciate Earth music."

Gerris raised a hand, "Wait, hold on, how would Earth music bait out Demacian mages?"

"Relatable topics. Wealth gap was absurd back home; many songs were rants against the establishment. Pick out a few tame ones, note the room's mood, follow up on the would-be revolutionaries," Xander grinned, "And, well, I'll admit, I'd be doing this regardless. Seeing how Earth media is consumed here is an interest of mine."

Erret sighed, "Well, if we reach that state, you're asking Yin, not me. Now, will that be all?"

Xander shrugged, "To thy slumber thee may go."

Erret rolled his eyes and left the way he came.

Gerris glanced at Xander, "That probably didn't last long in reality. What're you going to do now? I mean, you said we'd be taking a short nap, not blinking..."

"I'm going to get some rehearsals in, just in case. You want anything?"

"I wouldn't mind a nap, but... hm, can you fight people in a dream?"

Xander shrugged, "How do you think I got so skilled so quickly? Every three nights hitting the grind. So, who do you want?"

Gerris pinched his chin in thought, "... you mentioned you met Viscero in Demacia?"

"Xin Zhao?" Xander chuckled, "Well, when you wake up, you can tell Lady Elia that you suffer from trauma from wars in the Frejlord... or something."

"He's that good?"

"I can only beat him a third of the time," Xander smirked, "Good luck."

To Xander's surprise, the ride to Meltridge was uneventful. Perhaps it was good luck; they didn't have an escort, with only a handful of men to carry cargo, the carriage staff, Lady Elia, and his team on board. Xander still had faith they'd have won a hypothetical fight, but with the wildcard that was Sylas, and most of the men not being mages... it would be close. But, he had been hoping for some action. Not to mention, had they been attacked, they'd immediately have a thread to pull for finding the Mage Rebels. So, perhaps it was bad luck, actually.

Can't expect anything on the first day, I suppose...

They arrived in a rather high-class inn; at least, as high-class as an inn run by peasants could be. The wooden floor was relatively clean, and only some parts of the first floor smelled of alcohol. Of course, it seemed the previous night - or morning? - was quite a party, given that two men sat in a corner, passed out. If Xander was correct, they seemed to both be Demacian soldiers. But, the telltale armour plates were missing, and blue pants - and other clothing items, for that matter - were common in Demacia.

"Be back here by sunset," Xander ordered, "We can plan whether to scout or sleep over dinner."

"We'll be here earlier," Gerris answered with a smile, "Lady Elia mentioned that us hired hands won't be working much this afternoon. We'll be waiting for you."

"How pleasant," Yin commented, before shining her eyes for Erret, "Erret, could you unpack for me?"

"Just don't complain if I get your set-up wrong," Erret grinned. His lover traded one in kind.

As the lovers all but displayed public affection, Gerris elbowed Xander, "Hmm, they fessed up pretty quick."

"We knew from the start. They probably realised there was no need for secrecy," Xander replied.

"Huh. How familiar..." Gerris posed pensively, then smirked at Xander.

"... Ok, fair..." Xander shook his head, "I'll see if I can get a performance set up. Tell Yin and Miss de Recht to wait for me if I'm not back in a while."

"I'll be heading out in a bit? You can Miss-de-Recht them yourself... Get it?"

"Well done: you made a joke without referencing genitalia."

Xander snorted, and walked off. Approaching the counter of the inn - a polished stone table with mugs and barrels stacked atop it - Xander called for an attendant. A wiry man appeared. Despite the telltale signs of age marring him, the bartender spotted a jovial smile and the energy of a small child.

"Welcome to the Misty Ridge," the man greeted, "I'm Hartley. What can I get for you?"

"Get me a pick-me-up; any will do; it's been a long ride."

"Could be longer," Hartley replied, glancing over Xander's shoulder. His eccentric mood seemed to drop slightly, "...What's your association with the Lady o'er there?"

Xander shrugged and smiled, "New employee. She has business here, me and mine follow."

"Lady de Recht usually stocks up here if she needs a trip to the capital," Hartley spoke with the slightest sense of suspicion as he stirred a spirit, "She going there any time soon?"

"Two weeks ahead, I believe," Xander replied as the bartender passed him a drink. After a swig, the Left Hand asked a question of his own, "How long've you known Lady de Recht?"

"About a twenty years, I think," Hartley said, "Don't know her well, she's not very social. Basic business, nothing more..."

"Icy, would you say?"

"... Huh, never thought of it that way. But yeah, she is icy..."

Xander shrugged, then took a swig, "Pretty good stuff. Oh, and I forgot to mention, I'm Imuren."

"Well, thanks Imuren. Imuren..." Hartley weighed the name on his tongue, "Imuren, Imuren... doesn't sound Demacian. Where're you from?"

"Arbormark," Xander said, "And before you ask, yes, I've read up on the Laws of Stone."

"You best have! This kingdom isn't safe for you lot... actually I'd say it isn't safe for anyone right now..."

"So I've heard; though I'd argue that nowhere in the world is safe," Xander replied, "I mean, my people are closer to Noxus than yours; with your internal strife, a few of my friends at the walls are anxious..."

"Didn't consider that," Hartley chuckled, "Good thing about working the job, I suppose. Always learning."

"We're always learning; you just have more exposure to new sources of info."

"Quite wise for a young lad," Hartley notes, "How many years have you got?"

"Twenty-five," Xander lied. He didn't include his Earth years, and he rounded up one for his Runeterran ones, "But, traveling around doing business, I have more exposure than you do."

"Is that so?" Hartley reached for his own drink, "We had another one of you Arbormark fellows a while back. The name Arjen mean anything to you?"

It meant many different things. As chief advisor to a kingdom on the border, Xander had been given a few reports on the man. A relatively respected commander as strong physically as he was with his magic, Arjen Brambleguard was a threat to be noted.

More important, however, was the Arbormark advisor's associates in Demacia.

"I've heard good things of the chief advisor," Xander said, "Never met him, though."

"He was wise too. And big!" Hartley laughed, "He and an envoy stocked up here before sailing to the capitol. Apparently the envoy and a few men will be back soon."

Hartley's eyes lost their glint. Xander knee why, but pressed in regardless.

"And?"

"A couple Mageseekers were part of the envoy. Including one who abducted a mage from this village," Hartley took a sip of his drink, "Such a tragedy. Her mother's been in a sorry state ever since..."

Xander agreed, sighing, "Sounds... rough."

Xander recalled the details from the story he had read. The lass presumably had corralled the whole town to her side in an attempt to assassinate the Mageseeker. If not for a few defusing words from possibly the only non-bigot in the Demacian army, she'd have succeeded, and two fools would be turned unicorns by way of crossbow bolt.

Xander noticed something in the corner of his eye, and grinned. A new, less depressing topic.

Maybe I really am lucky.

The Left Hand's gaze focused to a corner of the inn, where a rather impressive contraption lay. He pointed a finger towards it.

"Is that a piano?"

"Piano, is it? Mm, that sounds about right," Hartley replied, "Apparently, my great-grandfather impressed some travelling noble, so they bought him one. My grandfather died as a soldier before he could teach my dad, so I never learned how to use it. But, some of my patrons do. Part of how the Ridge's still earning."

Hartley paused, a toothy smile creeping on his face, "In fact, we have a music night today. There are still a few slots open; care to join?"

Xander's smile rivaled the eccentric bartender's, "I'd be happy to. Would you like a demonstration?"

A different voice answered him, "I'd love one, Imuren."

Xander flinched at Lady Elia's whisper in his ear. The off-guard shock disappeared quickly, however, and the Left Hand grimaced our of irritation over fear.

"If I'm not getting drunk on the job, neither are you," The lady of Sharpstone said.

"It was a short break," Xander replied, not turning around and keeping eye contact with Hartley, "Shame about that. Can I get the slot, though?"

"In the musical arts, you nobles outclass us commoners. I can give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Thanks, though I must say, I'm a merchant, not a noble."

"Imuren..." Lady Elia warned.

"I'll be seeing you around. I won't disappoint, Hartley!"

By the time he was standing, Xander was practically getting pulled by the ear out of the inn. After waving goodbye, Hartley started rinsing his mug; until the upcoming night, that'd be all the Left Hand saw if him.. Only when he was out did Xander swat away Elia's hand.

"Rude," Xander snidely said, "I was getting info."

"You may have your mission, but I have an appointment with a local lord, so sorry if I'm a bit eager to go," Elia rebuked.

Behind her, Yin stood, shaking her head, "For shame, Xan. For shame."

Xander sighed, "Fine, my bad. Shall we go?"

"That would be ideal."

Lady Elia's meeting was at the town center, where the Demacian military presence was increased. Lady de Recht explained that a local Laurent officer requested stores from her to combat local mages. Yin commented that the Lady of Sharpstem's business seemed convenient; she corrected Yin, summarizing the past events with hushed, barely noticeable tones. Through it all, Xander ignored them. After all, he knew the issues.

Townsfolk seemed wary of the armored men on horses, and he could've sworn one spat at a banner when no-one was looking. Likewise, the hard grays in the soldiers' eyes indicated that they were prepared to torch the town of peasants if they dared rise against their charge. Or, perhaps that was his biases speaking. Regardless, Xander reflected that this was the scene he had spoken of all those days ago. The stench of paranoia emanated from every soul in Meltridge.

It only dissipated slightly when they entered the town hall. Even as the largest building in the town, it was only about half the size of House Sharpstem. The internals seemed older, though bits and pieces seemed refurbished and renovated. Eventually, they passed over creaky stairs and through an aging ornate door, finding themselves face to face with their contact.

Gold hair with a stylized black strand, grey-blue eyes, and a cocky smile. Yup, this is a Laurent.

The not-French accent only confirmed it, "Good afternoon, Miss Elia."

"Lady Elia, please. Your family gave me the title, you might as well use it."

"Yes, yes, Lady Elia," the Laurent brushed her off, placing a piece of parchment by the table, "Firstly, to claim last month's tax?"

Elia sat in the seat before her, took the feather and ink to her side, and signed. A poised glance was sent to the Laurent scion.

"That is the end of that transaction... what else have you summoned me for?"

"Demacia stands on the precipice, my dear," the Laurent's false smile faded, "Blood in the capitol; towns in rebellion, threatening to kill their protectors; mages in the forests..."

"I am already aware of these things. Do not waste my time."

"But it is my time to waste," the Laurent smirked, let silence stay for a moment, produced another sheet from his coat, then continued, "Regardless, the crown asks for another tax, so that the current crisis may be dealt with swiftly."

"A tax? Now?" Elia raised a pen as she glanced at the new sheet below her, "The country threatens rebellion, and the prince seeks to further bankrupt his citizens?"

"The ones who can afford payment shall do so, for the good of the country," the Lauren scion elaborated, "Your mercantile accounts surely could share their contents?"

Elia signed the new sheet, predicting a third to come, "There is more, no?"

"There is. The crown knows of your mineral imports to the rest of the world. Including your trading of petricite to Piltover," there was a curious glint in the Laurent Scion's eyes, yet he wore a somber frown, "The crown insists you divert all of your petricite to them."

"All of it..." Elia spoke in a clipped tone, "Much income comes from this trade. Income that helps my lands grow."

"We are dealing with mages. Controllers of fire and earth and wind. Petricite is the only thing that can protect us from them," the Laurent scion feigned concern, "I understand that your people benefit from your House's special trade, but if we can't stop those monsters, your people won't live to enjoy those benefits."

To his side, Xander noticed Yin tense up.

"...Will my people be compensated?" Elia asked.

"Once the crisis is averted, the crown has promised to all their due."

Lady de Recht glanced once more at the sheet, then sighed. With slow deliberation, the matron of Sharpstem signed the third sheet. The smile that the Laurent scion sported reached from ear to ear.

"Excellent," his voice was a fine oil, "The crown appreciates this sacrifice, I assure you."

"There's more, though, isn't there," Elia scowled, "Lets not waste more time. Get on with it."

"Well, your lands hold a few iron mines..."

Xander exhaled as Yin practically radiated hostility.

The Laurent Scion paused and turned his gaze to the Noxians.

"And who might these two be?"

"Apprentices of mine," Elia answered, "They are the children of an Arbormark merchant who is indebted to me. They are here to learn under my tutelage."

"Arbormark... are they mages?"

It seems the nerves were getting to Yin.

"We have read the Laws of Stone, my lord," she blurted out before looking to the floor in shame. For what, Xander had a few guesses.

"We know better than to use our abilities."

The Laurent scion stepped from behind the table, hand drifting to the scabbard at his wrist. He looked down on Yin with a sneer, before looking to Xander.

"We seek no trouble," the Left Hand replied, "We have abided by the laws of your land, and will do so for as long as we stay within it."

The Left Hand and the scion glared at each other in tense silence. Idly, Xander noted Elia and Yin tense up behind him. Regardless, he glared. The scion eventually relented, but not without the final word.

"Your sister knows her place. Learn from her."

The Scion returned to his place behind the table and sat once more.

"Apologies, my lady-"

"I believe that a short break is needed," Elia said, "By your leave...?"

The Laurent scion swallowed a frown, then sneered, "Go on then, my lady."

They quickly obliged.

"You didn't control yourself."

"I know, I know," Yin scowled, "How you didn't is beyond me."

The sun finished its setting as they walked. After a few hours of negotiations, the Laurent Scion had called the meeting off for the night. Neither Yin note Xander were looking forward to the next day. The latter sighed.

"I've had my experiences with aristocrats looking down on me," the Left Hand said, "And, I wasn't in danger either."

"You'll both have to do better," Elia noted, "It doesn't matter where they think you're from if you implicate yourself as a mage. Even if you're not."

Yin made to spoke but quickly shut up. There weren't many people in the streets, but it didn't hurt to be more careful. Especially after her last blunder.

"Well, I suppose I can share a tip. Just imagine the terrible ways you'd like to kill that arrogant shit," Xander shrugged, "Certainly helped with LeBlanc."

Elia raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

Yin made to step in, but Xander was shameless, "I don't need to do it now. Swain and I big-brained your Matron hard. Now, all I need to do is remember the look on her face. Heh, teach that bitch to pull a death curse on me."

Before a magic brawl could ensue, Yin cut the conversation off, "Hey, look, we're here!"

They were, indeed, here. In the dark blue twilight, the candlelight emanating from the Misty Ridge looked almost like Earth lamps. The music and laughter and whine of talk certainly reminded Xander of night clubs. The feeling only intensified as they walked in. The atmosphere felt like hot steam after a trek in the snow. It was oddly homely.

Gerris and Erret sat by the corner with mugs of beer, immersed in the setting.

"Welcome back," Gerris greeted, "How was business?"

"Shit," came the short reply of Yin as she sat by her lover's side.

As the hemomancer explained to the rest of the team, Lady Elia tapped Xander's shoulder.

"I'll be retiring now. Don't make too much trouble; it won't look good on any of us if one of you two is missing tomorrow."

"Sure, enjoy your beauty sleep."

As Elia rose up the stairs to her room, Xander made to sit down by his team. He never did, for a familiar voice called him over.

"Oi, Imurin! Imurin!"

"Who's that?" Erret asked.

"I'd say my contact, but there's no links yet," Xander mentioned, "Maybe he's decided against my performance."

"I'll have to buy him a drink then," Yin noted, "My ears have been through a lot..."

"Da-rude... hey, Erret, you going to let that slide?"

"Me? Compared with that geezer?" Erret laughed, "I'm confident I can keep my lover in check."

Xander rolled his eyes and walked off. The poser in question had changed little since their last encounter. Hartley sported an apron, and his sleeves seemed a bit wet. That, and his eyes seemed... guilty? Xander frowned, but approached.

"Imurin, right?"

"Imuren, yes," Xander replied, a wary tone in his voice, "... now, Hartley, have I lost my spot?"

"Oh, hardly," Hartley'sanswer came with an awkward laugh, "It's... well, you're good, I think, but-"

"Just get to the point," Xander sighed.

"Alright... I'm offering for you to not follow through with your performance."

Interesting. Xander's eyes narrowed, and the Left Hand allowed a dangerous glint to enter his pupils.

"I was looking forward to playing. But, I'll forgo if necessary just..." Xander looked Hartley straight in the eyes, "Why?"

"Welll... its just that your slot is right after the best performer I've got," Hartley shrugged awkwardly, "Wouldn't want the new guy to get shown up."

Xander released his killer glare and snorted jovially, "Really? That's it? Well, thanks for the offer... wait, why not just put me in a slot before her?"

"They were all filled up."

"... a switch?"

"There's only one person left before she plays, and she insisted that the person before her be a friend. He's currently playing. Their performances line up, apparently."

"Well... ok, how about this? I've got time before then to make my decision. How about I stick around and listen to her sing before I choose to forgo my spot?"

Hartley sighed, then relented, "Alright. Can do. Just stick around. Don't want too much time between performances."

"Fair enough."

And so he sat. As he listened to the tune of the runner up - who used a violin rather than the available piano - his eyes followed Hartley closely. The bartender approached a woman in a cloak sitting on her own by the counter. With her hood down, Xander could see a short crop of brown hair with blue eyes dark like the ocean. The singer looked at him with what he thought was a competitive smirk. Hartley whispered in her ear, and she replied with an amused smile. Xander shook his head; he'd had enough of pride today.

A familiar presence approached, "So what did he say? You just not good enough?"

"Yes and no..." Xander replied to Gerris, "Apparently, the person before me is the greatest musician in all of creation, so the innkeeper doesn't want me to embarrass myself. I've reserved the right to still try if I want, so for now I'll see just how good she is."

"She? You've met?" Gerris raised a teasing eyebrow.

"No. Just followed the innkeeper who told her about me," Xander replied, not having looked away from his supposed rival, "I suppose I don't have to worry about being beat by innuendo; she looks charming enough to not need that."

Gerris laughed, "Lets see. Maybe she'll be worse than you are!"

"What do you mean? I'm hardly a sailor; I swear an average amount."

"Samira and five mugs of beer say otherwise."

"It's not my fault that hag's the culmination of two hundred years of shit gameplay design. Or hers, for that matter."

"...Gameplay desi- Wait, she was a character in League of-"

"Yes, and she ruined a shit ton of promos for me. But let's not get to that now."

The singer rose from her seat at the counter, leaving the cloak there. She proudly strut to the piano, clad in a medieval dress that looked to have been stripped of its sleeves by an amateur. Regardless, it was a unique fashion choice in the otherwise normal medieval setting; he'd give her that.

"Here she goes."

Gerris chuckled, "Lets see you eat your words."

"I haven't even said-"

"Shh, the shows starting."

The woman sat by the piano and gave Xander a final glance. The smirk on her face faded, replacing itself with a somber look and closed eyes. The runner up raised his violin and prepared to play. A few claps and cheers from regulars came from the audience, but they soon stopped when the first chord hit.

Xander's breath followed when the first verse left the woman's lips.

"As a child, you would wait and watch from far away... but you always knew you'd be the one to work whilst they all played..."

"Impossible," the Left Hand whispered.

Gerris chuckled, "Guess she beat y-"

Xander elbowed him with a glare, "Shut. The hell up. I'm trying to listen."

"Here we are, don't turn away now... WE are the warriors that built this town..."

Cheers and claps, this time in tune, rose again in the audience. The chorus repeated with a crescendo.

"Here we are, don't turn away now... WE are the warriors that built this town... From dust."

More chords promised aural bliss; a promise soon fulfilled. The runner up went to work with a rapid violin arrangement punctuated by the woman's chords. A part of Xander had hoped the woman was a "normie"; that she knew only of the song's first incarnation. But, the slow, deliberate chords followed by intense, war-like rhythms confirmed to him that she knew. As the arrangement dropped to low, dramatic whispers, Xander made to move for Hartley. Gerris grabbed his arm.

"Xander, what's going on?"

"Let me go-"

"Xander-"

"She's like me. Is that enough?"

The statement stunned Gerris, giving Xander a chance to pull free. As Xander walked off, the show went on.

"Here we are, don't turn away now... WE are the warriors that built this town..."

The violinist played his heart out once again, his melody given backbone by timed claps from the audience and chords from the singer. She too gave her all as the final chorus hit.

"WE are the warriors that built this town..."

"From dust."

The inn exploded into cheers and applause. Xander was thankful; it gave him chance to approach Hartley undetected. Yet, his mind raced, and the noise did not give him chance to clearly think. He froze when he reached Hartley, and by the time he rebooted and decided on an action, Hartley had approached him. The cheers continued, giving them chance to speak.

"You seem rather shaken," Hartley joked, "There'll be another night four days from now."

"I..."

For the first time in a while, Xander was tongue-twisted. There was no action here that was purely beneficial, he reasoned. He could sing now, and risk an incident between him and the woman, or simply his song bombing. He could forgo his performance, letting the woman go, perhaps never to be seen again. And with more than the mission at stake...

Looking over Hartley's shoulder, Xander saw the woman. A light blush covered her face, presumably from the cheers she'd earned. She had a smile on her face, not at all arrogant, almost sincere. There were still cheers, which the runner up absorbed with grace and humility behind her. She, meanwhile, approached from behind Hartley.

"This is the guy after me?" she asked, then shook her head with a sad smile, "Sorry to go all out; kinda got into it."

"No, it's not..." Xander exhaled, attempting to catch his breath. He decided to give a compliment before continuing, "You were wonderful. I didn't expect such a good song..."

"It was nothing," the woman said with mixed emotions. Guilt seemed to be one of them, among others, "I could speak to the audience; I'm quite respected here. Or maybe we could do a duet? Me and Cheston know a few songs..."

"No, no, it's fine..."

The woman frowned, "... I was interested seeing what you could do. You seemed set to perform."

Even Hartley seemed invested, "You could still choose to go. It's up to you."

Xander breathed in again, considered his options... and smiled. Of the options before him, there was one that was far riskier. It promised more joy regardless, however. And it wasn't as though he couldn't have Nocturne follow up on his target if she left early... There were only so many minds in Meltridge for the nightmare entity to scan; and if he was right, one would shine brighter than the others.

Fuck it. Let's do this.

As he straightened up, he glanced over to Gerris, and saw concern on his face. He clearly could see the cogs working in the Left Hand's head. Xander's smile widened before rising to a short chortle. He shook his head, turning to Hartley and the performers.

"I'll do it," Xander declared.

"You will?" the woman's competitive smirk returned, "Show me what you got then!"

"Oh, I will..."

The inn had grown silent during their discussions, but a few whispers rose as Xander approached. He took his seat and tested the keys as he gave a foreword.

"That was quite a performance before me," Xander admitted, "I'm a bit new here, so I doubt I'll be able to match it. But, if you give a listen, I'll make sure your time's worth it."

The crowd seemed to accept him, but a comment from the runner up (who had taken a front row seat) cemented their approval.

"Go, new guy!" "Yeah, go new guy!"

Xander chuckled. Before the crowd could start a chant, he sat before the piano.

"Alright. Now, what to play..." Xander whispered to himself. 70s hits, another League song? No... he was feeling 2015...

He let his fingers play a few notes, teasing the audience, "This song... I heard it a while back from a friend. He had this little band... Forgot the name of it though. But this song, man was it great. Memorable, I'd say..."

Xander played the introductory notes and heard the crowd make noises of awe and interest. the Left Hand's view, however, was on the singer before him. Perhaps it was a dick move to telegraph that he knew what she did in the way he was, but, again... Fuck it.'Twas a long day, and he'd get his kicks in. He hummed the introductory notes as he repeated them.

"Some legends are told... some turn to dust or to gold..."

He glanced up, and found the woman's face pale, with widened eyes. Impossibly, Xander felt his smile widen. He really wasan asshole.

"But you will remember me... remember me for Centuries..."

And Xander sang.

Author's Note: So yeah, I'm gonna be doubling down on the references. I got a licence with Xander revealing his past, and I'm going to abuse it with this recent development...

Also, I recommend checking out the AO3 crosspost I've got. I've been adding art to the chapters, which I hope enhance the experience. It's uploaded on my DeviantArt as well, so if you don't like AO3 you can see them there.

As always, leave a review; I appreciate the feedback.

[Edit 20/03/22] - Grammatical errors corrected.