"A shadow fades before the light."

It had been many years since she repeated that phrase. It had gone out of fashion quickly, as her concerns changed from containment to concealment; as fear turned to frustration. Even as a new problems rose and new pains accordingly, she hadn't returned to that childhood mantra. Yet, in the wake of that... suffering...

Luxanna Crownguard repeated the mantra again, exhaled, and relaxed.

Or at least tried to. Between the sound of a swaying breeze, the chill of a nightly mist, her armor faintly reflecting the moon's silver glow, and her still beating heart, much kept the light mage awake. Her eyes flickered to the door before she rose, channeling her magic to her fingertips. Ever since she'd accepted it, her inner light had provided Lux a bastion of safety and comfort. Already she could feel her warmth melt the freeze of fear away. Sadly, that wasn't the only thing she felt. For one, there was a throbbing headache from her sudden awakening. That was easily fixed with a trip to the pantry, however. As for the other, more irksome problem...

As she walked the dark halls, her mind also wandered. Something at the back of her mind told her she was missing something. A vision from her dream that disappeared as she woke. A detail from her past, or maybe it was a secret, or fear? Sadly, not even after reflecting on it for a good few minutes could Lux remember the answer to her question.

A return to the past of sorts sadly didn't help. Originally made simply for storage, the royal pantry had gone through changes of order during her childhood. Of course, it was still rimmed with cabinets; some were filled with aged items like wine and cured meats, others freshly refilled. But, at the center of the room was a small table and a couple of chairs. In youth, Lux recalled many days spent with her brother and his friends here. The boys ate eagerly after their training, whilst she was content to watch and smile. Eventually some of the adults joined in as well; their parents always did care for them. Yet, as she grew, she suspected they'd realized was certainly more efficient to get coffee from the pantry than to ask a servant to bring a cup from the kitchen. She couldn't help but agree.

"Lux? Is that you?"

At the sound of the voice, Lux immediately turned to the door. There, she found a silhouette. Illuminated by lantern light, the familiar face seemed to be, like her, in the awkward state between drowsy and awake. Despite her own headache, Lux smiled.

"Jarvan," she greeted, "Good evening."

"It's morning, actually, I think," Jarvan yawned, then shut his mouth quickly, sobering suddenly, "Excuse me, er..."

Lux stopped herself from giggling but replied with a smile that betrayed her thoughts, "You are excused."

With the creak of wood, the prince of Demacia stepped into the pantry. As he laid down his lantern on the table, the prince glanced with amusement at the drink she was preparing.

"Still drinking warm milk?" he asked.

"It helped me sleep when I was young, it can do so tonight," Lux replied with a defensive tone, "Or this morning, rather."

"Fair enough," Jarvan conceded, "Could you, err..."

"You took yours with a spoon of honey, right?"

After a pause, Jarvan nodded, "... thanks, Luxanna."

Lux briefly squinted at the sound of her name, but did not push on the topic, "You're welcome..."

As Lux prepared Jarvan's drink, the prince sat and asked another question.

"...How did you remember that?"

"Remember what? That you liked warm milk with honey?" the slightest slip of frustration expressed itself in Lux's voice, "Wish I knew."

"So do I," Jarvan sighed, "What keeps you up tonight?"

"By tonight you mean this morning?" Lux joked.

Jarvan chuckled, but some tension remained, "Yes."

Unseen by the prince, Lux chewed her lip in apprehension. Flashes of the dream replayed themselves before her mind's eye. The wails of the imprisoned mages before they were freed, the soldiers guarding them like statues, the chained man in the vault...

"... a nightmare," Lux let out, "I'd rather not talk about it. You?"

"Also a nightmare," Jarvan confessed, then continued, "I was back at the Gates of Mourning, fighting Noxians."

"Your campaign to free the Argent Mountains," Lux remembered.

Her brother had joined Jarvan on that expedition. Three months of anxious waiting later she received a letter from him claiming the prince had gone missing. A month after that, small relief came when Garen returned; two somber months after that and the prince himself had returned. Only, the prince had changed. Garen had changed too when he first arrived, but at Jarvan's return most of those somber differences faded . Not for Jarvan, though; he still held himself somberly, and his shoulders seemed tight and burdened. The prince had died, Lux had heard; the king-to-be was born in his place.

And with his father dead, it was only a matter of time before Jarvan formally took on the burden of kingship.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lux asked, "I'm sorry if I'm intruding-"

"No, it's alright," Jarvan smiled somberly, "I'll need to get it out somehow, and I don't think Xin Zhao's awake right now."

As the prince cleared his throat again, Lux took their drinks from the warming fires and handed Jarvan his. The prince sipped from the cup and made an expression between laughter and a grimace.

"Sweet."

"How you liked it?" Lux stressed the past tense, assuming a change.

Jarvan chuckled, "It's good, just... how did I chug mugs of this?"

Lux shrugged as she drank herself, "I guess coffee ruined your taste buds?"

"Among other things," Jarvan chuckled, "You couldn't imagine the things your brother and I have had to eat on deployment."

"It can't be so bad, can it?"

"Well, cooked ant was surprisingly good..."

At Lux's grimace, the prince laughed.

"You didn't actually," she began.

"We did," Jarvan insisted, before his smile faded, "We did..."

"Jarvan?"

"I'm fine, just..." the prince sighed, "The dream wasn't all bad. Started with the good parts. My men fighting with me, winning battles. Then we were surrounded. The arrows flew, and they died around me..."

Lux interrupted, "You don't have to go there if you want to."

"No... no I don't, but... I think you could help me," Jarvan explained, "I remember this fight. 'Twas against a Noxian mage using blood, I think. I got disarmed, and I was outnumbered, then someone saved me."

Lux noticed the implication with raised eyebrows, "You don't remember them? But I thought-"

"That I'd personally visited all the families of the men who died for me upon my return... I did do that, yet..." Jarvan sighed and gave Lux a sad smile, "I... well, I'm sure you can see why I've been going on and in about it."

Lux nodded, "I'll help how I can."

"I appreciate it," Jarvan gave a sad chuckle then trailed on, "But, er, if I can't remember my memories, I'm not sure you could..."

Lux crossed her arms, "I thought you wanted my help."

"I do, it's just that I may have set you up for an impossible task," the prince shrugged weakly, "I'm all ears for any suggestions."

"Well, Jarvan-" Lux's words died in her mouth; or rather, there weren't any to begin with. She thought for a moment, then, with an awkward smile, suggested, "Maybe, if you stop thinking hard about it, it will just naturally come to you?"

Jarvan gave an amused, pointed look.

"Ok, I see what you mean," Lux conceded, "But I won't stop; I'll figure it out, don't worry!"

"Thank you, Luxanna," Jarvan gave a smirk, "If you need a book for it, I'll speak to the head librarian for you."

Lux smiled at the joke, but remained silent. Her gaze returned to her cup, which she then used to mask a frown. As she sipped, she thought; of her dream and of Jarvan's. She sighed at the comparison.

"Why're dreams so vague..."

"What was that?" Jarvan asked.

"Oh, I said that aloud?" Lux flinched, sighed, then giggled, "I must really need sleep..."

"Maybe," Jarvan yawned on cue, "That's probably a good idea. Do you want me to walk you back to your room?"

"Thank you for offering," Lux smiled, and she hoped Jarvan bought it.

They left the pantry soon after. Silence reigned over the darkened corridors, with pensive reflection as its consort. At least, it was in Lux's mind; she assumed Jarvan was also thinking on his dream, but how was she to know? It wasn't as though mind reading was her magic skill.

Lux pushed the digression to the side and returned to her thoughts on her dream. She recalled how she came to awareness, walking to the Mageseeker compound amidst a peaceful night. Magic thrummed at her hands, only to be consciously snuffed out as she entered the compound. It got worse from there as a Mageseeker guided her to the jails, and the sounds of suffering made themselves known. As the dream continued, it reached its climax as the jailer - who wore Sylas' face - opened the door to the compound's deepest cell. And after that... the forgotten scene. Something was in Sylas' cell, but based on him being the guide to it, it clearly was not the revolutionary himself.

But why can't I remember it? I know I entered that room. The last thing I saw was the door shutting on me. Am I hiding it from myself? If so, why?

They soon arrived before Lux's chambers. Moonlight glowed from within the room, visible through a door left ajar. Lux shook away her thoughts and turned to thank Jarvan.

"Don't mention it," the prince replied with a troubled look and did not make to leave, "... I know things are... tense right now. And I know this betrothal wasn't opportune."

Lux glanced curiosity, then asked, amused, "Wait, is that why you've been using my full name?"

Jarvan flinched, his face the picture of embarrassment. The prince tried to reply, but seemed to find his words wanting.

Lux covered her mouth to giggle, "You've known me since we were kids; you don't need to be so formal."

"Oh..." Jarvan slowly relaxed, "Wait, so you don't mind the arrangement?"

It was Lux's turn to feel shame, with the secret mage glancing away, "... I'll admit, I was against it at first. Not against you, though, it was just... the whole arranging part, you know?"

A frown crept up Lux's face as she recalled where she'd gone immediately after hearing the news. She fought the urge to vomit when she remembered what she considered about Sylas that day. However naive she was now, surely it was better than who she was then.

Her brief reflection was not noted by the prince. Jarvan simply nodded, his mind wandering to his own memories, "Yeah, I get that. So... how about now?"

"Well, it could hardly be worse," Lux smiled awkwardly, "Our arrangement is a bit weird... I won't pretend to be some love-struck bride to be..."

"I wouldn't want you to."

"...But with everything going on, I'm willing to try. If it's what's needed, I'll do it," Lux's smile widened at a sincere thought, "And besides, betrothal or no, we are still friends."

"Friends," Jarvan returned with a smile of his own, "Right, friends. And friends care for each other."

"Yes," Lux nodded, "And not just me. Garen, Uncle Xin Zhao, even Aunt Tianna. We all care for you, not just because you're the prince. We'll help you."

"...Thank you. That means a lot," Jarvan gave a small bow of gratitude, "Have a good night."

"Morning."

Jarvan shook his head with a chuckle and went on his way. His lantern faded into the dark as he left. Alone again but content, Lux sighed. She returned to her bed and let sleep find her again.

Moonlight was not all that watched her.

As the midday sun baked the petricite walls of the Great City, the Noxian Noble party journeyed to the city plaza through the shade. Only, two of them looked the part, Yin reflected. Where she and Lady Elia wore the dresses befitting of noblewomen, Xander was garbed in a hunter's attire. It was still Demacian, of course, just in case any eyes were watching; blue and pants with leather armour in places. She still felt the choice dangerous, though that may have just been her Noxian background talking.

"You seemed pleased," Lady Elia spoke carefully and with refinement, "I hope you've been subtle."

"As much as I can be with a magic rune on my face at all times," Xander blurted out without a care. Whilst Yin wanted to assume Xander was confident in their safety, it was still Xander; she couldn't tell. "And, Mageseekers apparently don't give a shit about where their shit goes. So it works out."

"Please, dear, if you could forgo such crass language before lunch, it would be appreciated."

Xander snorted, "Heh, of course."

The sun caught them again as the Noxian party entered a plaza area. As her bosses traded insults, Yin surveyed the plaza before finding the fanciful building with brown-red roof tiles; their lunch destination. Standing outside, dejected and probably kicked out by the restaurant's elite caterers were Gerris and Erret. To their credit, they looked like they were straddling the line between middle class and aristocracy, with good clothes and a few trinkets decoration. Alas, it was a relatively luxurious establishment that their host picked out.

"Took your time," Gerris crossed his arms, "Could yet get us in, now? The heats' killing me."

"We-" Xander cleared his throat, "You've done service in Shurima. This heat is killing you?"

"Stuffy clothing," was the mumbled reply that came.

Erret shared none of Gerris' pessimism, "Well, you made it, so all's well that ends well."

"Indeed," Xander smiled, "I hope you're hungry. This place is great; at least, I remember it being good... Now, I'll go check with Lady Elia."

The Left Hand went on his way before they could speak, leaving the pure Noxians together.

"Hmm, Xan- er, Imuren seems chipper," Gerris noted, "I don't suppose he did anything, did he?"

"Not that I know of, but he probably did sneak back home, so that's probably a factor," Yin mused, "And of course, nothing bad's happened. If he did something, he was subtle about it."

Erret made a sound of agreement before stepping to Yin with a smile, "... that's your Demacian Noble get-up? You look great in it."

Fighting the urge to sputter, Yin puffed up, "Well of course. I may not wear dresses often, but I know my way around them."

Truth be told, Yin wasn't sure what Erret was getting at. By aristocratic standards, her dress was almost offensively plain. A single tone of brown, save for the corset which was slightly darker and vibrant, it was hardly a work of art. It was comfy, of course; that was her primary concern. And, hiding behind her dress, strapped around her thigh was a knife and a couple of vials of blood. Utilitarian, not aesthetic. But she supposed she was his lover, so it wasn't out of the ordinary to get a compliment...

"I'd say get a room, but I think we can only afford one," Gerris mused.

"Could you give us a minute?" Yin sighed and leaned into Erret, "I'm the one who's been hiding in plain sight all day. I think I deserve a break."

"Yeah," Erret straightened up defensively and said nothing more, "...Yeah. What she said."

Gerris snorted then pointed over their shoulders, "Sure. It seems our host got you your room."

Yin could only roll her eyes as they followed Gerris in.

If the fancy architecture and the exorbitant entry fee wasn't enough of a clue, the interior of the Seasonwings fully cemented the restaurant's identity of an upper-class hideout. Every plank of the floor was shined, every table covered in a quality cloth. Scented candles by small tables allowed for the most romantic of dates whilst chandeliers over larger ones allowed for stellar family gatherings. Such extravagant decor reminded Yin of some of the Black Rose's hideouts, and given how much influence they had it wouldn't surprise her if she learned that House Sharpstem has funded the restaurant as well. But again, that was likely her Noxian background talking.

In general, the sights mattered little to the Noxian party. Their host had booked a private room in a reclusive corner, with only a single door as an entrance and exit. Their food was already there, freshly cooked. There was little to delay them; they sat, ate, and - once he doors were shut - began their meeting.

"So tonight you'll be attacking the palace," Lady Elia started, "I'm grateful for the early notice, but why did you include me in this meeting?"

"Point one: as our host, you're technically part of the team. Point two: you're the local. I may have been born here, but with recent events I imagine culture and protocol's changed," Xander explained each point between mouthfuls, "Point three: I imagine you'll be reporting this to LeBlanc, so full context probably would help clarify anything."

As Lady Elia nodded and motioned to continue before continuing her meal, "So, you have a plan?"

"Long term or short term? Cos I got both."

Gerris sighed at the digression, "Xander, both."

"Alright then. I'll start with long term, since this is new stuff. For one, I'm finally willing to say we have an actual plan. That is: a campaign to discredit the current Demacian regime, prop up Noxian sympathies in the mage rebellion, and eventually force the monarchy to a table. Whether it's for an alliance or a concession is still up to events, but both are on the table."

"And how will we achieve this?" Elia asked, "I don't suppose it will require my funding?"

"Ideally as little as possible; that could be traced, and you're technically still aristocracy, so your support may not help the rebellion's image," Xander further detailed, "Ultimately the plan is to show the benefits of magic to Demacia, and we've got quite the opportunity to do so. Between the rebels' raids on nobles and the attack tonight, the regime's focus will be on security; the military. That leaves us to show up every other government function."

"Such as?"

"Agriculture, for one. Many mages in the north were able to make a living increasing crop yield before they were taken away. With their help in concentrated groups, we could essentially bribe towns one by one to our side. Of course, we won't present it that way, but..." The Left Hand smirked, "And that's just agriculture. Fire mages for forges, water mages purifying polluted sources, healers for, well, healing. There's a lot of utility that mages can offer the general population. And whilst the government is putting people in cages with their unwieldy numbers, we'll have gained a loyal force - potentially trained for guerrilla warfare - to challenge them."

"And how will we convince them to join Noxus?" Gerris asked.

Xander drank to clear his throat then spoke, "Join Noxus? That is all but impossible; it's honestly alliance or bust, given current sentiments. But, we can set up for the future. Noxus' anti-aristocrat meritocracy counters nearly every problem in modern day Demacia. We get the leaders to realize this, they get the people, and in a few generations Demacia and Noxus might as well be the same country."

"That... is horribly unrealistic," Elia commented after sipping a drink, "But, I imagine this plan is still detail-less to allow for fluidity?"

"Of course."

Elia sighed, "We can discuss edits for your plan when we return to Sharpstem. Now, lets move to the short term. So you start tonight after dinner?"

"Actually, I started it yesterday," The Left Hand smiled mischievously, "I got Nocturne - my demon - to haunt Luxanna Crownguard last night with dreams designed to make her question her allegiances. He got both her and Jarvan, actually. Noc says they were able to talk their immediate fears out, but the seeds of doubt have been planted."

"And you'll reap it today?" Erret asked, placing his cutlery down as he finished his meal.

"No, not even Nocturne could cause such a change within a few nights. Not without outing himself, and that surely wouldn't work," Xander shook his head, "No, tonight I'll only be continuing my work; with her and the prince. They'll be threatened, of course, but when their minds calm down those doubts will rise up again."

Erret nodded, "I see... and I assume the rest of the plan will go as we discussed en route?"

"Yep," Xander glanced at Elia's expecting stare, then summarized, "By 'continuing my work' I mean running up to the palace and harassing the Prince and his betrothed; maybe some hostage scenarios, we'll see. That'll distract the guards long enough for the rest of my team to infiltrate Mageseeker HQ to find intel. Once I've had my fun and they've got the intel - or we just reach our limits - we escape through the sewers, leave out of a hatch in the nearby forest, then walk back to home before dawn. Any questions?"

"Two," Elia replied, "Firstly, what will I be doing?"

"Sleeping, or pretending to sleep. If you can give us an alibi with illusions or something, go ahead. Not much you can really do. As long as we don't get caught, you have nothing to worry about."

"Right... second, what information do you seek from the Mageseekers?" A predatory glint shined in Elia's eye, "Much knowledge is held by them; the Mistress would appreciate if they were... transferred, shall we say."

"We'll grab anything with a lock or a fancy cover," Gerris assured after wiping his mouth with a napkin, "But, of course, the one Xan wants from us is a letter that may or may not exist."

The Lady of Sharpstem raised an eyebrow, "What would this hypothetical letter contain?"

Xander didn't hesitate to give his answer, "Proof that the Mageseekers killed the old king."

Seeing the disbelief on their host's face, Yin stepped in to explain, "Xander found contacts with the rebellion who state that they didn't kill the king; they found him dead before they could reach him. Xander believes the Mageseekers did it because they have the most to benefit from it."

After a pause to consume and consider, Elia swallowed and spoke, "The late King was known for his mercy... in fact, all of the scandals of his reign came from forgiveness. Some imagined the Prince might've been exiled after his failed campaign-"

"Extremely unlikely, Jarvan was his dad's pride and glory."

"True. But that isn't all; I imagine it's before your time, but Sylas' initial arrest caused some backlash; most expected him to be immediately executed for his murders. And of course, there was the debacle with appointing a Noxian to be his bodyguard and granting said Noxian's friends amnesty..."

Gerris broke in with a laugh, "Wait, he gave Noxians amnesty? As in, a lot of them? I heard he spared Viscero, but..."

"Guess he's as good at sob stories as he is with a spear," Yin shrugged, "Though, considering how cutthroat the Darkwill days were, he had to know some deception to get around."

Gerris snorted incredulously, "You were alive during the Darkwill days?"

"Yes I was," Yin's reply was met with a curious chuckle. She quickly deflated as honesty worked its way up her throat, "Ok, I was a kid then, but my parents told me enough about it."

"Which one?" Gerris mirthfully asked.

"Both of them? I mean, times were bad enough my mom actually slept with my dad, so..."

Before Gerris' lungs could burst from laughter, Xander cleared his throat and addressed Elia once more, "So the King was merciful to a fault; enough for certain factions to dislike him. But...?"

"But, unlike in Noxus, the aristocracy is awfully loyal. Long live the king and all that," Elia replied, "I don't think the Mageseekers would be ambitious enough to commit such a grand treason as regicide."

"Even if they could get away with it?"

"Yes, even then," Elia sighed, "But, I won't pretend I'm not suspicious either. If such a letter existed and your team did find it... it would be invaluable."

"Which is why it's priority number one," Xander crossed his arms, "Anything else you'd like to add? Maybe a few recommendations for what to, ahem, transfer from Mageseeker HQ?"

"I won't pretend I'm an experienced tactician, so I'll leave the decisions to you," Elia answered, "As for artifacts, the works of Durand have intrigued me."

"Great minds think alike; it was already on my list," Xander smiled, "Judging by that glean in your eye you have quite the list. Written?"

"Yes, actually," Elia paused to sip from her drink, "Would you like a copy?"

"How about three?" Xander shared a quick glance with his teammates.

After a pause, Lady Elia sighed at her workload's increase.

"Quite the list indeed," Xander assumed, "Maybe cut it down to a top ten?"

"Well, I suppose I have the time..."

"Come on, Garen, you can tell us."

The us in question were herself and Jarvan, and the thing the royal was trying to fish out of his friend was... well, if Lux could describe it in a word, it'd be unbelievable. Even as a child, Garen Crownguard had always been the stoic, dependable defender. Always calm and collected, yet ready to show compassion at a moment's notice. He had his moments to break character, of course; he and Jarvan had regaled her with tales from their service. But...

"My love life is none of your business!" Garen blurted out, cheeks red.

And Jarvan doubled down, "So you admit it: you do have a secret lover!"

...the concept of romance? Between a mysterious lover and Garen Crownguard?

Lux didn't know what was more ridiculous; that Garen had a scandal in the making, or that she'd never once had to consider being an Aunt.

"Err," Garen looked away and mumbled, "Aunt Tianna wouldn't approve..."

After mentally logging that she wouldn't be like Aunt Tianna to any of Garen's kids, Lux replied, "If you really love this person, I'll support you."

"So would I," Jarvan added, "I'm certain a royal blessing would clear up any problems?"

Garen seemed to juggle his words before insisting, "It would be extremely inappropriate."

Jarvan squinted in thought momentarily, "Is it Fiora?"

Garen paled, but not out of guilt, "Oh, gods no, don't even suggest that. I'm still sore from our last spar."

At the prince's raised eyebrow, Garen's blush returned, "No, not like that!"

Lux offered her support, "Well, Garen, I'm glad to hear you're not courting her."

"...do you have something against Fiora?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine with her," Lux assured, the lie slipping through her teeth, "I'm just being supportive. If you're not courting her, then it's your choice."

To Lux's credit was a half truth. Fiora seemed like a good person, but for Lux the Laurent too... noble. Every complaint Sylas has for the aristocracy, Lux felt the Laurent fit the bill. But, it wasn't as though she knew her well; she'd reserve her judgement.

"It probably is a good choice anyway," Jarvan sobered up, "Fiora's the last of the main line of Laurent, whilst you'll inherit the Crownguard name. Organizing the two house's consolidation would be quite the change, and with current circumstances I don't think it's a good idea to pursue that."

"Aren't there Laurent cadet lines that could inherit?" Garen asked.

Jarvan chuckled, "I don't want to get on Fiora's bad side any more than you do."

Garen nodded with a mirthful smile, "Fair enough."

Garen relaxed into his seat. Idly, Lux reflected that it was an absurd look. Garen always was a massive man, even without his armor; the Might of Demacia looked a tad bit too big for his seat. It was a silly thought, but their conversation for dinner had been nothing but silly. Lux hoped none of the servants that had served them would tattle; surely their public images as resolute Demacian leaders would be erased in a snap.

As if willed by her pessimistic thought, Garen matched her gaze momentarily then glanced at Jarvan, "Since we're on the topic of love lives... I don't suppose you've been getting along?"

Jarvan blinked, then chuckled, "You say that like we're not childhood friends. You suggested this betrothal on that pairing, didn't you?"

The Might of Demacia's gaze grew cold, "You know what I mean."

Lux sighed, catching the act, "Garen, you know the answer to your question. Jarvan and I have been getting along fine; no need to play the overprotective brother role."

Immediately Garen gave a short laugh, "But I've been waiting so long to do it! Never mind that I can even play it seriously because, yes, I did know the answer to my question."

"I'd say I'm sorry to disappoint, but disappointing is the part thing I'm aiming to be," Jarvan's smirk as he jested faded to something more serious, "I'll repeat what Lux told me last night: betrothal or no, we are friends. I'd never wish to break someone's heart, least of all a friend's. You have nothing to fear."

Garen nodded with a satisfied smile, "Thank you. I appreciate that."

Lux didn't need to add anything; her brother had taken the words right out of her mouth.

The royal dining hall settled into silence at that. A few servants walked about by the corridor outside, but the royal party's dinner had long since passed. But, whilst the meal was finished, the conversations had continued. For a couple of hours, Lux estimated with a smile. They'd all had a long few months, often in different parts of the country, attending to different matters. As far as Lux was concerned, they needed a break.

And yet, the call of duty came. Garen glanced over Jarvan's shoulder to a clock on the wall.

"Well, it's been good speaking with you, but I've got to go," the Dauntless sword-captain stood up, "I've a meeting with Aunt Tianna."

"Don't let us keep you," Jarvan waved him off, "We can talk again tomorrow."

"Right, good night!"

"Good night to you too."

As the elder Crownguard left, Lux sighed.

"This was nice; like old times," she said, disappointed, "I imagine you have a meeting now?"

Jarvan's mood seemed soured by her pessimism, but he smiled, "Not for a while, actually. Even then, I'm sure Xin would understand if I was late."

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"Lux, it's fine," Jarvan insisted, "I've got plenty of time, and I so happened to enjoy our conversations as well. So why not continue?"

After a moment's consideration, Lux replied with a smile, "Well, for one, what should we talk about?"

As she predicted, Jarvan's reply was a long, "Uhhhh..."

Ever the exemplar, however, the prince cut off her teasing laugh with an answer, "My dream!"

"Sorry, your what?"

"We could talk about my dream; the one I couldn't remember. Remember last night?"

"You mean this morning?"

Jarvan could only give her a pointed stare, "Lux."

The secret light mage chuckled, only to fade into a frown, "Sorry, I've been kind of busy; couldn't do much reading. I asked some soldiers in my escort about dreams and they said writing it down helps. So, if you can still remember, maybe that could work?"

"It does help somewhat; Xin Zhao gave me the same advice; said by writing it down I might notice a pattern," Jarvan raised an eyebrow, "You have an escort?"

"Yes. Groups of four, picked by Garen," Lux shrugged, "I don't get it. It's not as if we're in the most secure fortress in the kingdom..."

"I actually suggested it to him," Jarvan countered, "And as secure as the palace is, we still got overrun by Sylas' rebels."

"Oh. Sorry about that - making you remember."

"Don't worry, it's not your fault."

Silence filled the hall once more, only rather than satisfaction, anxiousness was its subordinate. Lux gazed away from Jarvan's frown as she tried to find the right words to restart to conversation. Rather than her words, however, movement on Jarvan's part brought life to the scene. He straightened up and glanced at Lux.

"What were you saying earlier, about the dinner?" the royal asked.

"... that it was nice?" Lux blinked as she forced recollection, "Like old-"

"Like old times," Jarvan said, "I don't know why, but that phrase sticks out to me."

Jarvan abruptly stopped speaking again, then leaned back into his chair. His brow remained furrowed in confusion, yet his frown deepened.

"Jarvan?"

"...Thanks for the help. I think I've got a lead."

"Are you... alright?"

Jarvan met her gaze with a smile that wasn't quite there, "Yes. No, maybe. I... guess I'll get back to you on it when I figure it out."

After a pause, Jarvan offered, "Would you like me to walk you to your room? I can still make my meeting in time."

Lux shook her head and stood up, "I'll be fine, thank you. Garen's escort should suffice."

"Right," he stood as well, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't mind," Lux smiled, "Good night."

"Good night."

As she passed through the hall's door, Lux sighed, discontent. Nostalgia slipped from her soul like rain, leaving a bitter cold. This was only heightened by Jarvan's words. Something jolted him into awareness, gave him a clue that she didn't have; and whatever answer Jarvan had gained, it hadn't done anything for his mood. Worse, her mood was noticed by a handful of soldiers - likely the new shift Garen's escort. She shook her head and forced a smile.

"You're tonight's shift?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," their leader, a lanky man with steel eyes, gave a respectful bow, "Sergeant Praytor. These are my men, Privates Jaime, Genna and Zekiel. Captain Garen said you would lead us to your chambers?"

Lux nodded before glancing at the windows, "I can. Do you have lanterns?"

"We have two lanterns and the oil for our shift," Praytor replied, "Lead the way, Crownguard."

Despite herself, Lux couldn't help but let out a small giggle, "You say that like I'm leading you into battle."

"If I may, Miss Crownguard, I hope that isn't the case."

Lux sobered up with a sigh, "Of course. Follow me."

And so they did, through halls illuminated by pink hues and the growing darkness of twilight. As they entered the royal apartments, Lux noticed one of the privates make a sound of awe. It wasn't everyday a commoner stepped foot into royal luxuries, she suspected. A needle of guilt pricked Lux's heart at that.

So, she tried to shake off the feeling with a question, "Sergeant Praytor?"

"Yes?"

"How will the shifts work? Do you have a signal with the next shift, or is there a schedule?"

"The latter. Captain Garen briefed us personally before your arrival yesterday," Sergeant Praytor explained, "The first night-shift brings two lanterns and the oil for their shift. The next only bring the oil, and come at their designated time."

Unseen by the soldier, Lux frowned. Of course Garen planned this before I agreed.

Sergeant Praytor continued, "If you're worried we'll wake you up, you needn't worry. We can do our job without giving you sleep deprivation."

Despite her mood, Lux chuckled, "That's greatly appreciated," she yawned, "I've been having some trouble sleeping; I'd hate for the streak to continue."

Sergeant Praytor didn't react at that, prompting a sigh of disappointment from Lux. Perhaps it sounded like a threat? She could see Fiora making that statement as a prompt for some lackey to do better. Crap, how did I not think of-

A hand grabbed Lux's shoulder. Before she could speak up, the Sergeant stepped forward.

"Wait there, and be quiet, " he ordered. Lux complied for a moment, then Praytor asked, "Did you hear that?"

She hadn't, and somehow that made it worse. Something like fear grabbed at her heart.

"The giggle?" one of the soldiers asked, voice trembling.

"Giggle?" the other soldier's voice was full of confusion, "I heard a yell."

"And I heard a sword being pulled out of a scabbard," Praytor said, "Shit, I was being honest when I said I didn't want a fight!"

"Sergeant Praytor," Lux cut in, "What's happening?"

"I don't know, but someone's in here with us," the sergeant stated, "How close are we to your quarters?"

"Down the hall and a left turn."

"Alright. Miss Crownguard, get behind me. Genna, Zekiel, behind her. Jaime, behind them. Diamond. Light the lanterns then get your sword's out."

The soldiers complied, striking a flame before unsheathing their blades. After a quick breath to control her nerves - and her magic - Lux did as she was asked as well.

"Stay close," Praytor ordered, "Move on three."

He raised a hand and three fingers. They dropped like bodies to arrows, and Sergeant Praytor bursted forward. Beckoned by the soldiers behind her, Lux followed. As night darkened the apartment and the lantern's lights guided their way, Lux channeled some of her magic to her eyes. She'd experimented with her light magic as a form of night vision after Fossbarrow, and was able to make it out of a midnight forest without a torch. Yet, in her childhood home she could see nothing out of the ordinary.

But, just before they entered her apartment, she heard something instead.

"Stop," she called, and they did. Lux explained, "I just heard something."

"So did I. I heard another sword scabbard. You?"

"I... I don't know, but I heard something."

Praytor nodded, "Genna, Zekiel, you guys too?"

With lantern light lining their features, Lux saw them nod.

She heard something again, clearer this time. Or rather, somethings. She heard all three of the things the soldiers had listed previously. All at once.

Through her quarter's door.

Praytor's eyes followed hers to the same conclusion. With a resigned sigh, he raised his hand again. Upon forming a fist, the Sergeant punched the door open and rolled into the room, sword at the ready. His men followed on his strike, blades covering his openings. As moonlight illuminated their vision through an open window, Praytor rose.

"Nothing?" he asked aloud.

"But we heard something," Lux mumbled, "We're not safe here."

"Maybe, but we're still in the capital," Praytor noted, "Jaime. You're the quickest of us. Can you get some help?"

"If I don't, I think we're dead anyways," Jaime replied, "I'll be back soon."

"Be back yesterday, go!"

As Jaime sheathed his sword and sprinted down the hall, Lux backed away from it and into her room. Genna and Zekiel flanked her as they entered, bringing their lanterns with them. The soldiers quickly formed a wall between the Crownguard an the door.

"You know what? If this is what fighting mages is like, get me to the front lines right now," the scared soldier - Zekiel, Lux guessed, muttered in terror, "I'd rather deal with a Noxian battalion than this."

"No kidding," Genna concurred, "At least they're up front."

"Cut the chatter," Praytor interrupted, "Eyes peeled, ears open; nothing gets through that door."

As if summoned by the order, an echoed, rasping voice asked, "How about the window?"

From behind them, a flurry of blades slammed the door shut.

Author's Note: [Edit 20/03/22] - Grammatical errors corrected.