From outside the window, Yin heard the fall of raindrops and the howls of gales. The softest of rumbles in the distance hinted at thunder. It was as though a god had been insulted, and was preparing its divine arsenal for a smiting session.

Yin knew better, of course. She'd only made a mistake, for which her commander likely would reprimand her. The hemomancer had no clue what her punishment would be. The paranoid parts of her brain suspected the dream world she was in may be invoked. She really hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Sitting opposite her and the rest of the team, with his back against the window, Xander sighed. Unlike them, who were garbed in Noxian grays, Xander wore what Yin knew to be old Earth military gear; a pale and dry green for a shirt, splotches of black and verdant green for pants. By his side were women garbed in secretarial wear of similar shades. Whilst a snarky comment about why attractive women in form-fitting clothes acted as Xander's aides in his head was at the tip of her tongue, Yin decided that in light of her recent failure she'd zip her mouth shut. She was on thin ice as is.

"Alright then," Xander gave a tired sigh as one of the women - one with dark short hair and pale yellow eyes - handed him a file. Likely one of their memories, if Yin had to my guess.

"Walk me through what happened," the Left Hand ordered.

At her left, Erret started, "We entered through the sewers early; nearest window was quite far from the sewage room, so rather than wait for your signal, we went ahead together."

"I didn't have much of a signal anyway, so fair..."

"Yeah, no shit. Seeing that light show from afar nearly blinded me. How'd you fare?"

"Fine with Nocturne darkening everything. Continue?"

His attempts at changing the subject thwarted, Erret continued, "Thankfully a tome of Durand's was in the office, so our detour wasn't for nothing. We took that, a handful of other small books, and some loose articles and reports. Nothing related to the King's death, but that was to be expected."

"Of course. Then?"

By her right, Gerris took his turn to speak, "It was at this point that we found the Head Mageseeker's mask. After searching the room a bit more and finding nothing on them, Yin had the idea to make the Head Mageseeker's compromise himself."

When Xander raised an eyebrow at her, Yin knew her time for silence was over.

"I figured that if we were to show a document claiming the Mageseekers killed the late king to Prince Jarvan, and it had the Head Mageseeker's handwriting, it wouldn't matter if it was written yesterday or a month ago."

"... I can understand the reasoning, but that was still a stupidly unnecessary risk to take," the Left Hand sighed and shook his head, "It probably wouldn't do us any good, but did you at least get a document out of him?"

The words got stuck in Yin's throat for a moment, but she answered, "Yes. Yes we did, actually; I stuffed it under the cover of Durand's tome."

Unfortunately for Yin, her brief moment's hesitation prompted investigation on Xander's part.

"...but?"

A deep frown heralded the next words that came from Yin's mouth; words that disgusted her to think about, "... but... but it seems he didn't, er... do it."

Xander blinked in surprise, "He didn't what now?"

"He didn't assassinate the late King. He didn't even have him assassinated," Yin shook her head with a frustrated sigh, "He could've been acting, but he seemed surprised and offended that anyone would even think to do it. The offense part intensified when we clarified... and when I kept insisting that he had to have done it..."

"You insisted?"

"I was convinced they'd done it! I thought he was lying... I still think that, but I'm just not sure."

Xander glanced to Gerris, who spoke, "We largely agree on whether he's bullshitting... Possible for both. Though honestly, I can't believe it myself, but I think he was being genuine."

"So... the Mageseekers didn't kill the late king?"

"It would be safer to assume so," Erret nodded with a disconcerted frown.

After a pause, during which, the Left Hand's own frown deepened, he slammed his head against the table. One of his secretaries stepped forward.

"That may be the worse possible outcome from all of this," he groaned, "I understand why you took the risk, but... god damn it, Yin!"

The hemomancer could only attempt to gulp her anxiety down at Xander's outburst. Never mind the sudden rumblings of thunder in the distance of the dreamscape.

Well, she could try something, "...Sorry."

Xander waved her off, "It's fine; again, I understand. It actually could have been worse, and at least we got some stuff out of it. I'm... more pissed at what you discovered, as compared to you actually going on to decide it."

The thunder lessened, but rain continued to fall, water dripping down the window. It had slowed somewhat, though, and some light broke through the clouds in places. If the weather was anything to go by, maybe they'd survive Xander's reaction?

Xander recollected himself and explained, "We're still largely in the clear. The Mageseekers are still guilty of crimes against the Demacian people; Jarvan's a good enough guy, I hope, for that to be enough to prompt reform. Combined with Lux's being a mage and her eventual moral redefinition, it should be enough to bring him and everyone connected to him over to our side. We just can't out the Mageseekers for a definitively terrible act."

"As compared to mage genocide being not definitively terrible?"

The smallest of smiles graced Xander's face at the joke. It gave way once more to a frown, but confusion and pondering seemed to plague Xander's mind now, rather than anger. As for why, Yin had no idea.

Gerris caught the shift as well, and seemed to be as in the dark as Yin, "What scheme are you plotting now, Xan?"

"... nothing worth considering," the Left Hand replied, "If what I'm thinking is true, it makes no difference. Just a few extra steps to feign innocence to the point that we can't rely on that point for anything. But, we've digressed. Is there anything else to report?"

"Not in particular," Gerris answered, "We escaped, ran through the vault, hopped out a window on the opposite side of HQ then tailed back to our entrance before going. Your distraction worked, so we only had to deal with five Mageseekers total. Three for me, two for Erret."

"Probably for the best, with my obvious Noxian magic," Yin grumbled, "Of course, we weren't wearing blue like you, so they probably think we're Noxians anyway."

"Possibly... but, you guys getting caught at the same time I attacked means we're associated. Since they think I'm an ex-Mageseeker, even despite my use of blood magic..."

"So you're an ex-Mageseeker who joined Noxus," Erret pointed out, "Those two aren't incompatible."

Xander frowned and leaned into his seat.

"Right. Well, we shouldn't have to worry for a while," the Left Hand said, "We'll be focusing on making contacts with the rebels when we return to Sharpstem, so no one will be seeing our merry crew for a bit."

Erret nodded, then, after a pause, asked, "So… is that all?"

"Do you have anything else to report?"

"No. So that is all."

"Guess so. Unless you have any questions?" Xander shrugged exaggeratedly, then stood up when met with silence, "You're in my dream; I can feel your curiosity. Go on, ask."

After containing her surprise, sharing glances with her team mates, and sighing, Yin spoke.

"You mentioned something not worth considering," Yin recounted, "Just in case, what were you talking about?"

Xander gave a deadpan look before sighing and explaining, "I was considering the possibility of Lord Eldrett being a hypocritical shit, using magic - either an artefact or a helping hand - to wipe his memories of his plot. It doesn't help us in any way, however, because asshole he may be, Eldrett's smart enough destroy the evidence."

The Left Hand leaned against his chair's back rest and continued, "I briefly considered using the same technique here, having Nocturne steal our memories of last night. But, we have incriminating evidence that we'd rather keep. On the off chance they actually find them, not remembering shit does nothing. Not to mention we'd be confused as to what the hell was happening, and may end up doing something even more stupid from there on."

"So instead we just wing it and hope the guards believe our lies?" Gerris asked, then chuckled to himself, "Well, Miss de Recht would be our alibi, right?"

"That and, if you don't mind, Yin, a sip of petricite juice to mask our magic signatures?"

The hemomancer winced, then sighed, "Ah, this is my punishment."

"Originally I was the only one who'd need to drink," Xander crossed his arms, "Thankfully, I planned for the worst case scenario. Drink up."

Yin sighed, "I was hoping to get a blood high tonight... but I suppose that was for a job well done that doesn't apply."

"Well, were the one who went and got seen when they weren't supposed to," on Xander's face, a teasing smirk morphed into a flash of inspiration, "But, if I'm not wrong, a dreamscape should do the trick without magic."

"How?"

"Well, you know how a blood high feels. That's all a dream needs," Xander stood up, the file his secretary had given him still in hand, "Ava, take care of their dreams, would you?"

The other secretary - the one with silver-blonde hair and dual-toned teal-indigo eyes - nodded, "I'll get right on that, boss."

"Alright then," with a finger snap, a door formed on the wall behind Xander, "I'll see you guys tomorrow. Yin, you know the recipe for a petricite pot, so I trust you'll get it done on your own."

"As long as the effects aren't permanent," the hemomancer replied, already dreading the bitter taste.

"Of course. Now, this concludes our debrief. Could've gone better, but good job staying alive," Without any other words to say, Xander shrugged, "Have a good night."

With that, the Left Hand left through his newly conjured door. The other, dark haired secretary followed him in, leaving them with the silver-haired one.

Ava, if Yin recalled correctly, glanced to Gerris, "I assume you'll want your usual combat training?"

"Something harder, set to loop on death," Gerris replied, "Maybe base it on what the boss had to get through?"

Ava squinted incredulously, then shook her head, "I'll set up a middle ground for you. Through the door you go."

At the secretary's words, the sound of creaking wood filled the room. Glancing behind her, Yin found that the door had indeed opened, revealing a blue-rimmed blackness; a portal of some kind. After a pause, Gerris nodded and did as the secretary asked. As soon as the ex-reckoner was gone, the secretary's attention was on her.

"Miss Yin, your preference?"

"I'll assume you have Xander's memories... you remember my family's mansion? Specifically, the underground pools?"

After a pause, Ava nodded.

"Take me there with a bottle of hound blood," Yin then glanced to her lover, "Erret, come with?"

Erret held a blank look, blinked, then smirked, "Oh, well, thought you'd never ask."

Yin frowned at the pause. As they stood up, she leaned to whisper in Erret's ear.

"What's on your mind?" She asked, concerned.

"A lot, in truth," Erret sighed, then chuckled, "Care to take it all off my mind?"

Before she could reply, another, admittedly more elegant voice cut in by clearing itself. She found the secretary standing by the door with an amused expression.

"The boss has given you a room. Please use it for... whatever you were just doing. Instead of using this meeting room," Ava smiled wide and sweet, yet Yin could only take it as a promise of suffering, "Or else?"

"Right, a splinter of Xan... see you around, Ava," Erret took Yin's hand, "Let's go, Yin."

There was a pause, then Erret pulled her through the door. The sudden chill that had filled the room dissipated as they went through the portal; something Yin was thankful for. The words Erret had spoken confused her, but as the atmosphere shifted and the familiar sight of her home filled her vision, she shoved the thoughts to the side.

After all, she still had to answer Erret's question.

"In short, the damage won't be permanent. But, I would recommend the wounded get some time off to recover. Whatever foul magic that demon used didn't finish the job, so your men will need to heal naturally."

At the nurse's suggestion, Garen could only nod. When he'd seen the red mist reconnect the severed limbs of his men, he'd assumed it a fortunate miracle. But, whilst his men were no longer amputees, many had reported the inability to move their healed limbs; only feel with them. The news that the injuries were going to heal soothed Garen's worries greatly, but he still couldn't help but feel disappointed that his men couldn't get back to service soon. He didn't voice the complaint.

"Of course. Regardless, it is good to hear," the Dauntless captain said, "I'll inform the king of the good news."

"Of course..." the nurse frowned, "But before you leave, I have a question."

Garen shrugged with a calm smile, "Go on..."

"I'm probably being paranoid, but, er... Captain, have you seen magic like this before?"

"I have," Garen fought a grimace as he recalled his experiences at the Noxian warfront, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I don't really know anything about magic. I was wondering; are there any side effects I need to worry about? Like turning my patients into blood-sucking mages, or something like that?"

Garen chuckled, "I don't believe so. Generally speaking healing spells I've seen heal, and nothing else. Your patients won't turn into monsters. At least, from my experience."

The nurse sighed in relief, "Alright. Thanks for the help. We appreciate the work you and the men do."

"We live to serve," Garen assured with a smile, "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

As soon as he had left the infirmary, the Sword-Captain let out a sigh. Whilst it wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been, the previous night had been a mess. Never mind that the Capitol was in fear and under martial law for the second time in months, not even a resolution could be determined. The last attack had at least given them a clear enemy in Sylas; a threat to their society with a face and form. The demon that attacked them didn't even give them that. And the less the point of who healed his men was brought up, the better.

"How're the men?" an oddly dejected voice asked.

Garen raised his glance down the corridor and found Quinn leaning on a wall. The usually determined young ranger seemed drained. The bags under her eyes didn't make the image any better. Garen understood why.

"The men are healing well. They likely won't be able to return to duty soon, but the damage is temporary," the Sword-Captain replied, "How's… your bird?"

Quinn rolled her eyes with some amusement at Garen's forgetfulness and replied with a small smile, "Valor is much the same. The vets needed my help to keep him under control, but between their work and Mr. Demon's magic, he should be ready to fly again within the week."

The ranger frowned, "Not soon enough, though."

Garen thought before he spoke, "...I'm sure Valor will pull through."

"I know. It's just... it's frustrating," Quinn vented, "I want to make that bastard pay for what he did, but I can't do it alone. So, I just have to wait here."

Garen understood the feeling. He appreciated all the down time he got, and used it wisely; it was counterproductive to burn himself out, after all. But, recovery time had a bitter feeling compared to it. It was an itch that wasn't allowed to be scratched. All experienced soldiers he knew had grown used to it; some, like him, even gained a 'resistance' to it, able to recover quickly. But, Garen recalled then that Quinn, whilst definitively their best ranger, was still relatively young. Never mind that unlike him, she struck swiftly and wore leather rather than runesteel; either she finished her mission without getting hit or she likely wouldn't return at all. Perhaps that inexperience explained her irritation.

"They haven't caught the attackers yet," Garen said, "You'll have your chance. For now-"

"Rest and recover, right?" Quinn assumed, "I get it, really. I'll..." another frustrated sigh, "I'll get right on that."

"I was going to report the status of the troops to Jarvan; it might raise his mood before the coronation," Garen continued, "If you don't want to rest, perhaps you'd like to follow?"

"Oh..." Quinn rubbed the back of her head with an embarrassed blush and awkward chuckle, "Well, uh, sorry I think I'll take you up on that. Lead on."

Garen did as asked. The walk to the royal apartments was largely uneventful, with only the occasional greeting from their subordinates. Some Garen recognized from the night's patrol, still on shift following the city's lockdown. Others seemed to be fresh replacements, taking over for others. Even then the new soldiers seemed taxed, stressed. Given the situation Garen couldn't blame them.

By his side, Quinn frowned, "That... thing really did a number on us. How did he get through to us?"

"We don't know yet," Garen frowned, "Theories are going around that we have a traitor in our midst, but considering we don't even know who exactly is behind the attack I'm hesitant to agree with any of them."

"We don't?"

"It could be a mage; it could be a Noxian; it could be a single person, or even a new threat we have no idea about. We simply don't know," Garen chuckled bitterly, "Used to be so simple. There's a friend, there's a foe. Help, fight, so on."

Quinn nodded, "Mhm... if only. Would make our jobs much easier, huh?"

"It would."

Their walk led them up stairs and past bridges and familiar hallways. Therein were cleaners and masons, who were attempting to return the damaged sections of the palace to their usual pristine state. Garen didn't recall seeing as much blood from the previous night, but given that there were still some spots lingering in the hallways, it was clearly worse than he thought. Quinn seemed to be of a similar mind, a frown visible on her face.

It was for a different reason, though.

"How's your sister taking all of this?" she asked.

"Well, actually," Garen answered after pondering, "As soon as she'd been freed she was already helping the wounded... I'm not sure how I feel about it."

"About what?"

"Her getting used to all this," Garen clarified with a sigh, "This is the third time she's been in the thick of things, and whilst I'm proud of how she's faced it, I'd rather she never have to go through something like it again."

"With the way things are going, I doubt your wish will come through," Quinn replied solemnly, "Will her guard be doubled?"

"I'm considering it," Garen answered, "But, considering the trouble she's been attracting, I'm not sure anything short of a full Dauntless escort could prevent a repeat. And as much as I want to keep her safe, those men are needed."

A few steps filled the silence before Quinn next responded.

"Have you considered training her?"

"With a sword?" Garen frowned as an old irritant returned, "I've tried before. It... didn't go too well."

"When was this?"

"... before I was appointed Sword-Captain," Garen admitted, surprising himself. Had it been so long? "Perhaps I should look into that. Or at least, I'll have someone train her."

"You should," Quinn said with odd insistence, "Frankly, things will be getting worse. Lux will need all the protection she can get, and if we can't afford men-"

"Quinn, are you all right?"

The ranger stopped mid-rant, quickly collected herself, and explained, "Your sister's been attacked by two major threats within the past few months. Her life has been in danger. And, if there's anything I'd not want for my friends..."

Quinn paused to contain some emotions.

"If there's anything I'd not want for my friends, it's for them to go through what I did," Quinn finished.

Garen understood immediately. Whilst Quinn herself hadn't told him personally, the Sword-Captain had heard of Quinn's tale from her sponsor. Spry and charismatic, Lord Barett Buvelle was a well known man. A charming and compassionate politician as well as a quick-thinking tactician, the Buvelle head, he'd heard, was considered for Dauntless service when his Aunt Tianna held the Sword-Captain post. In exchange for avoiding said service, Lord Barett lent his eye for talent, recommending men from his domain to the Dauntless Vanguard. His most recent recommendation was a spearman from Uwendale, who he claimed could've rivalled the Seneschal in skill. Unfortunately, before the invitation could be sent, the spearman, Caleb of Uwendale, died protecting his lord, and his sister.

Lord Barett claimed that Caleb's death broke his sister's will, something that was later proven wrong when Quinn returned to him with her partner, Valor. From there, the two of them rose through the ranks, eventually becoming the heads of Demacia's rangers. It was a relatively smooth rise; Quinn revealed herself to be as prodigal as her late brother, and the bond she once held with him was matched by the bond she held with Valor. Perhaps, Garen figured, the recent hardships had humbled her, and reminded her of what she treasured. Valor had suffered various injuries in recent events; the battles at Nockmirch and the previous night most notable to Garen's mind. But, Quinn wasn't the only one whose siblings had been put at risk.

Garen nodded, and replied with sincerity and gratitude, befitting the sentiments Quinn had given him, "Thank you. For caring. I think I'll follow your suggestions."

"Of course," a smirk grew on Quinn's face, "Oh, and... I heard Lux used a crossbow during the mage riots. If she finds herself using preferring that over a blade, I'll see if I can drop by; give tips, and all."

"That'd be appreciated, but I think the High Marshall would prefer her sticking to sword play."

As they reached the entrance to the royal apartments, Quinn gave a short laugh. The guards at attention looked to her with surprise and the barest hints of disdain, but the ranger didn't mind. Garen quietly logged in that he'd correct the men's behaviour somehow later.

"Then she'd be missing out," Quinn shook her head as she continued, "I've seen her. In her hands, a crossbow like mine would be far better than a greatsword like yours."

Garen rolled his eyes, "Perhaps. But it wouldn't be my sword she'd use."

With the conversation ended, Garen stepped ahead of Quinn, reaching the door to the royal office. The Sword-Captain made to knock, only for the doors to open. A Mageseeker stepped out, nearly walking straight into Garen. Before Garen could respond, the hooded man bowed and apologised, then quickly walked out. Quinn watched amused all the while.

"Ah, Garen, is that you?" Jarvan called from within the office, "Come in."

Garen did as his prince - no, king - asked, entering the office with soft footsteps. The royal offices seemed dustier since he last saw them; it made sense, for no one had used it since Jarvan's father passed. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled row to row with old tomes; records from kings and queens and regents long past. Garen did not in the slightest envy his friend's task of having to quickly acquaint himself with them.

Despite the road ahead of him, Jarvan himself looked well. He was clad in royal robes, inlaid with dark gold and pale silver, and a crown lay on the desk before him. Sat in his father's old seat, he truly looked the heir Jarvan III had envisioned. The king-to-be was reading a newly opened scroll, seemingly to the dismay of his mentor. Xin Zhao remained in his armour, or rather he had changed back into them; he seemed to have cleaned himself of the night's filth since Garen had last seen him.

"Good morning, Garen," the Seneschal greeted, "Or at least, as good as could be with the last night. And, Quinn was it?"

The ranger stood to attention Garen's side, "Yes sir. Good morning to you too, Seneschal."

"At ease, Quinn, and thank you," Xin Zhao shrugged good-naturedly, then turned to Garen again, "Your report?"

"The men are healing, and should regain use of their limbs within the week," Garen answered.

"That's a relief," Jarvan called from behind his scroll. After poking his head out of it, the Exemplar of Demacia turned his attention to Quinn, "Your bird?"

"Also healing, my prince."

"That's good. With everything going on we'll be needing your help more than ever," Jarvan then turned to Garen, "I don't suppose any of the patrols have returned?"

"The military district reported an all clear twenty minutes ago," Garen answered, "Not that it helps..."

Jarvan nodded, "Indeed."

The king-to-be placed the scroll on his desk, "I'll have to speak with your uncle later. Perhaps he could help with this..."

"Jarvan, I sincerely doubt he will," Xin Zhao cut in, "No mage in Demacia knows of blood magic. Never mind the fact that no Demacian would dare make a deal with a demon. The invader has to be a Noxian."

"I'm not so certain about that point with demon deal making, Uncle. I'm rather certain Sylas would gladly take it if it meant my death," Jarvan countered, "Furthermore, considering we have a whole scroll recording demonic and ghostly encounters from the past decade, I'd say there's a large chance for a demon to have possessed a Mageseeker. Besides, how would a Noxian even make it into the Capitol? There are mageseekers at the gates, not to mention the military presence."

"Now would be the last time for hubris," the Seneschal warned.

"I am aware. But, you have to admit, my point still stands. We've tripled the military presence in the Capitol since Sylas broke out."

"Then what of the blood magic?"

"... perhaps one of your men from the Noxian conscript army was possessed?"

Xin Zhao opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After a pause, the Seneschal sighed, "That is a possibility. They swore to the Laws of Stone following their retirement, though; unless they were stronger in their abilities than I knew, I don't see how they'd overpower the petricite potions they were given."

"We don't have much evidence to go off of," Quinn cut in, "Perhaps for now we should focus on other matters. I'm sure High Marshall Crownguard's organised an investigatory party to focus on the problem in our stead."

"...You're right, I think," Jarvan said after a pause, "I suppose there are other things to focus on. Though before I start; Uncle, how much longer till the coronation?"

"About an hour, but, you are the king now," Xin Zhao answered, "Though I wouldn't recommend a delay; might set a bad precedent."

"I thought it was going to be at noon," Garen replied, surprise written on his face.

"After careful consideration, we realised a public coronation could be risky. The demon may still be in the city," Jarvan explained, "So, your aunt recommended we first hold a private one with the nobles. They generally are the ones who care more about that sort of thing, after all. The public coronation will come tomorrow, when we're certain that the city is secure.."

Quinn frowned, "A king's coronation is usually a cultural event. People like seeing the new king. But, you raise a good point... and I don't think a day's delay should impact the reveal too much..."

"Necessary sacrifices," Xin Zhao shrugged on his king's behalf, "I'd recommend getting cleaned up quickly. I doubt you too would want to miss the ceremony, and your aunt would have words if you came to it as you are."

Garen agreed, and addressed Jarvan with a friendly smirk, "Indeed. By your leave, then, King Jarvan."

"Don't call me that yet, Garen..." Jarvan quickly sobered, "Wow. King Jarvan... that's going to take a while to get used to."

"You'll live," Quinn was already out the door when she made her remark, "See you soon, King Jarvan!"

Watching the ranger go, Garen could only shake his head.

"Well, time waits for no one. I'll see you at the coronation," the Might of Demacia promised.

"Of course," Jarvan smiled, "Oh, and before you go, I forgot to ask; How's Lux?"

"She's good, all things considered."

"That's a relief. I'll see her at the private coronation?"

"Of course. At least, I'd think so. She'll definitely be there for the public one," Garen darkened his visage, "You're not going to proclaim her your wife yet, are you?"

Jarvan chuckled at Garen's brotherly antics, and countered cleanly, "I may not be as experienced in romance as you, but I know better than doing that!"

Garen caught the hint, and before his embarrassed blush took form, he turned away, "That's... good. Good indeed. See you soon."

Even as he speed-walked through the hallway, Garen could hear Jarvan's laugh. He'd always been the wittier of the two, as well as the most cautious. At the reference of his secret love life, Garen felt his face pale. Now more than ever, he wished he hadn't met her those years ago. The Might of Demacia hoped they wouldn't meet again soon; with recent events, if they did, it would mean Noxus was behind the invader. And if she knew about it, a worse situation couldn't be asked for.

"So... you want to talk about that?"

Garen stopped mid step at the voice, growled in irritation, then continued, not even bothering to face Quinn.

"That information is classified, Quinn!"

At the sound of the reply, Garen didn't need to look to know that Quinn held a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Oh?" the ranger crooned teasingly, "Sure it is..."

"So, you want to talk about something?"

After slipping on his tunic, Erret remained silent. Even excluding the fact that they were in a dream - not even in real life - he had nothing to hide. After what they'd just done, it wasn't as though Yin was blind to Erret's physique. Those thoughts weren't his main focus, however.

"What do you mean?" the saboteur finally asked with genuine confusion, turning to face his lover.

Yin had covered herself in a thick blanket; one of the many expensive ones her family had. She glanced to him with... jealousy? Curiosity?

"Well, you seemed to regard the products of Xander's secretary fetish longer than a man with a sexy, loving partner should," Yin teased, yet her smile held a jealous threat, "Care to explain?"

Erret playfully scoffed, "First off, I'm offended you even made that suggestion."

Yin giggled, then took a vial from the bedside frame. After a second's flash of red, she turned to face Erret again, who stared with deadpan look.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," Yin said, though to what her apology referred to, Erret didn't know. He smiled regardless, assuming the answer to be both.

"Second, it's because I met the silver haired one a while back."

"Oh?" Yin approached him, "When was this?"

"After Xander ran back to the manor after he spilled the beans," Erret replied, "When entered his dream, that woman - Ava's her name, by the way - brought me to him."

"And you're concerned about this Ava... why?"

"Well, disregarding the obvious point that is that my best friend may have multiple personalities..." Erret shrugged before lying back on the bed with a sigh, "I was trying to figure out what she is."

"Other than an alternate personality, or some dream construct Xander made?" Yin snorted, "I knew he had a vice. Bastard... anyway, I said I'd make those thoughts go away. Thought I did a decent job, but...

"You were wonderful, Yin," Erret assured, "Truth be told, I completely forgot until you brought it up."

"O-oh..." Yin shook her head, wiping the blush off her face, "So, do you want to talk about it?"

"...Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Alright then," Erret smiled as Yin leaned on his shoulder. The hemomancer spoke with a smile, "You want to start? I need to know what I'm dealing with."

"Sure, ok. So..." the saboteur frowned as she strained to remember, "Actually, there isn't much I know about Ava, other than what she told me. She says she isn't a personality of Xander's, though I suppose that's what a threatening personality would say if it was about to be caught."

"Well, Nocturne seems to get along with her, considering he hasn't made mention of her," Yin raised a finger with her point, "Though, worst case scenario, he's actually the bad guy who caused him to form..."

"I'd rather not think about that," Erret replied, "Now, what else... assuming Ava isn't lying about being an alternate personality, Ava mentioned that she exists exclusively in Xander's dreams. Something about not following him when he wakes up."

Yin hummed to herself silently as she thought. She backed away from Erret for a moment, prompting an investigative glance. It turned out to be a useless gesture, as even without looking Erret definitely would've noticed the next red flare.

"Seriously. Right now?"

"Apologies for indulging myself for the first time in months," came his lover's reply.

Erret squinted "Didn't Xander give you a vial of high quality blood?"

"Yes, and I was trying to ration it. And that's with it as small as it is; it was more a taste than an actual blood high!" Yin explained, "I couldn't take the teasing anymore and finished it when we left Sharpstem."

"So that's why you were giggling like an idiot when Xander brought us for a briefing then."

Yin flinched at the description, "Wait... you guys saw that? You guys have actually seen me get high?"

"Yeah. Xander didn't seem to notice you doing it before hand or just decided to ignore it. Regardless, your brain still affected how you felt and acted in the dream, so I had to lock you out of the briefing room."

"Well... in any case," Yin blinked away the embarrassed blush on her face, "You were saying?"

"I was waiting on your ideas. About Ava being only in Xander's dreams?"

Yin hummed again, then spoke, "Xander told me a while back that dreams - natural ones, anyway - deal with the subconscious. Certain events and scenes symbolise things to the subconscious... maybe its the same for her?"

"Perhaps, but Xander was aware of her. Ava said he created her, then he confirmed it right after... " Erret's expression raised in realisation, "He did mention the subconscious as well with me. He said he didn't know if she was sentient, and attributed the possibility of it to subconscious thoughts... I think."

"Hmm... ok, how about this: Ava is conscious and sentient, but is entirely made up of Xander's subconscious," Yin proposed, "When Xander dreams, Ava is fed his ideas, memories, whatever the hell counts as a subconscious thought. That could mean she symbolises something- wait... you said Xander made her, right, and that he admitted to it?"

"Yeah?"

"Did he say why?"

"...Ava did," Erret recalled, "She said something about her making it easier for him to reflect."

"I bet she does more than that-"

"Yin, please. I'd rather not think about that."

Yin snorted, then sobered up, "So she's a reflection tool... the other one probably is as well, huh?"

"The black haired one we saw at the briefing?" Erret asked, "Yeah, probably. She handed him the file... maybe that secretary represents the tactical, military side? Or something?"

"Tactical and military... black hair... maybe that's the Noxian side of Xander?" Yin considered, "Meanwhile Ava has white hair and blue eyes. Obvious Demacian side?"

"That... is actually a good idea," Erret replied, "Only, it doesn't makes sense for Xander to be dismissive of Ava, then."

"Dismissive?"

"Yeah, dismissive. The past two times I saw her, Xander seemed to distance himself from her," Erret explained, "The first time, Ava guided me to him, but didn't want to enter the same room as him. Then, now, he didn't have her follow us; he went off with the other one whilst having Ava send us off."

"Huh," Yin's frown deepened as she took note of all the inconsistencies, "That's... really strange. I mean, if anything, now that we're in Demacia, Xander and Ava should be as close as can be."

"That's what I'm thinking as well..." Erret sighed, "I think we're on the right path, though. Maybe Ava isn't Xander's Demacian side given form, but she has to mean something to him."

"But wha-"

A chiming sound accompanied by the room shaking cut off the hemomancer. As the room shook, Erret felt Yin clutch him from behind. He assumed it made her feel safer, but considering that the edges of his vision were darkening from the edges and that he was also pretty worried, the saboteur found the effort rather useless. Erret suddenly felt a pressure on his arm and on his right side. The latter was an even distribution of weight, but the former gave Erret the clue he needed; it was most definitely the grip of a hand.

As if to confirm his thoughts, the voice of his leader pinged in his mind.

"Wakey wakey, rise and shine, lovebirds!" Xander cooed teasingly, before dropping to a serious tone, "But really, guys, wake up. A Mageseeker's outside the house, and Yin needs her drink before the investigation begins. Now, wake up guys!"

A sound like static ended the transmission. Glancing to the edge of the room, Erret saw it quickly fading to black, as if being consumed by the void. Behind him, Yin's grip tightened; not out of fear, this time, but irritation.

"Well, what was that saying Xan uses; speak of the devil?" Yin shook her head, "Fuckin' asshole. Can't just wake us up like a normal person..."

"To be fair you do the same to him every other mission," Erret pointed out, prompting a snort.

"You're not wrong," Yin sighed, "We can discuss this further tonight, or later even. Xan's been teaching me how to make a dream sigil, so it shouldn't be too hard."

"Till later, then," Erret grinned, "See you on the other side."

Yin chuckled again, but Erret couldn't hear her response. The saboteur's vision had already blurred to black.

He opened his eyes.

Perhaps after living her life as a mage in Demacia, Lux would've gained a fear for the Mageseekers. Yet, as one entered her aunt's office, all she could feel was curiosity.

After all, with her uncle also in the office, there was only one thing the Mageseeker could be here for.

"Lord Eldred, Senior Adept Matkins finished his investigations," the Mageseeker reported, "Neither Buvelle, Spiritmight, or Sharpstem's parties have anything suspicious on them."

"Truly?" her uncle replied, "I would've sworn..."

"All three of those houses are as loyal as can be," Aunt Tianna cut in, "You entrusted Sharpstem with international petricite trade. Doesn't that exempt them?"

"That, in truth, made them more suspicious," Uncle Eldred replied, "The traitor used charged petricite to activate his blood mists. The Sharpstem's trade implicated them, whilst the Buvelles and Spiritmights have the most Mageseekers deployed, so I suspected them as well. Of course, if there's no proof, than nothing can be done."

Tianna nodded, then turned her attention to the Mageseeker, "What of the Galestones? The Tytins?"

"Their investigators have yet to report," the Mageseeker bowed respetfully, "I will return when they have."

"Do so quickly," Tianna ordered, "I want to be informed as soon as possible."

"Of course, High Marshall. By your leave."

When the Mageseeker left the office, Lord Eldred sighed and turned to Lux.

"Apologies for the interruption, Luxanna," the Head Mageseeker said.

"It's fine, uncle," she replied.

"Of course. Well, you may finish your report."

Lux took a breath to recollect her thoughts. After briefly covering what she'd done the previous night, Lux had gone on to describe in detail the events of the attack. How she met with her escort following her dinner with Garen and Jarvan; how they'd entered the royal apartments without noticing off; how auditory illusions had, she'd realised in hindsight, baited them into her room. After describing how the invader had defeated her escort - and lying about where the lights came from; she claimed her lights were actually the demon's host fighting back - the Mageseeker arrived. That left...

"After the demon regained control of its host, it backed me into a wall," Lux recounted, "Since I had a good look at it, I recognised the shadow magic it employed as similar to the demon at Fossbarrow. It confirmed its identity when I accused it of being such."

Tianna nodded, "That matches what we've found. The monsters the demon summoned match what was seen at Fossbarrow."

Lord Eldred nodded as well, then asked her question, "How did you survive? I imagine a demon with a grudge against the Crownguard bloodline wouldn't have spared you, did it?"

Tianna briefly glanced at her husband with a tactician's gaze; focused, probing, questioning. The two shared looks before Tianna turned the fearsome gaze on Lux. The light mage did her best to hide her fear before responding.

"The demon... did, actually."

Both Tianna and Eldred raised eyebrows at her statement. Lux elaborated.

"It said that it wasn't here to kill me, or anyone. In fact, it said it came to thank me."

"For what?" Eldred's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"The demon claimed that I was responsible for causing a suffering that was sustaining it and other demons. I can't think of anything I've done that's caused great suffering, but..."

Unbeknownst to her husband, Tianna sent a glare at Lux. Though the light mage was able to hide it, the feeling of fear crawling up her spine remained troubling.

"It must believe you freed Sylas," Tianna declared. With her glare, Lux now knew that her aunt believed she had, but for whatever reason she decided against outing her; a choice Lux was thankful for, "If you were responsible for the mage revolution, that would suffice as an act."

Lux decided to take the helping hand her aunt offered, "I didn't take kindly to the demon's words and tried to fight back. It didn't work, though."

"And it still didn't kill you?" Lord Eldred asked.

"It was about to, but it seemed to sense Garen and Jarvan approaching, so it used me as a hostage," Lux explained, "From there, you know the rest."

"Garen and the Prince arrived, stalled to allow the Ranger-Knight to come in from behind, then the whole mess that was trying to capture it," Eldred bitterly summarised, "Is that all?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Mhm..." Eldred frowned, "I was hoping for more. Nonetheless, you have my thanks."

"I'm happy to help all I can."

"As you should," Tianna cut in, "Now, Lux, I believe you should get ready prepare for the coronation. Shall I escort you to your quarters?"

Lux knew that it wasn't an offer, and stood up, "Yes, aunt. By your leave, uncle."

"You have it," Eldred nodded, "I shall see you at then."

"Of course. You as well, uncle."

They left the Head Mageseeker's solar silently, then walked the halls of the Mageseeker complex without words. As they crossed a street from the complex to the palace, the setting sun's rays illuminated to Lux the stiffness in her aunt's movements. As Lux followed, she could only guess at why it was so.

Lux had developed a few ideas when they finally reached her aunt's solar. Whilst she was more acquainted with Tianna's office at the Crownguard estate, she'd gotten more acquainted with this one in recent times. Between the incursion at Nockmirch, the unknown whereabouts of the Mage Rebellion, and the resulting uptake of soldiers, the High Marshall found it necessary to live closer to her work. Said work often gave way to family matters, however; namely, micromanaging Lux's every action, it seemed.

"Sit," Tianna ordered. Lux complied.

"I suppose we'll start with the basics," the High Marshall sighed as she took the seat opposite Lux, "I'm sure you're aware of the risks using your abilities at such an extent in the palace."

"I am aware, and I'm sure you're aware of my limited choices at the time," Lux countered.

"Which is why I won't be reprimanding you for defending yourself before Garen and the Prince could arrive," Tianna noted, "But, enchanting Garen's sword to banish the demon was reckless at best."

"My magic directly counters the demon's; it's how I freed the steward's son from the demon at Fossbarrow," Lux explained, utterly shameless in her magic, "I couldn't be seen blasting the demon directly, so I had to go for the next best thing."

"It wouldn't have worked regardless," Tianna said, "If Garen's judgement is correct, and I believe it is, the demon has the host's consent."

The response on Lux's lips faded before it could be spoken, "What? Wait, but..."

"I can understand why you'd be confused," Tianna admitted, tone turning softer by the tiniest margin; if her aunt wasn't so stern all the time, Lux doubted she'd have caught the change, "From what you said about the Fossbarrow demon, this one acting more merciful would seem to be the result of a stronger host. Unfortunately, that was true."

"...I haven't been told the full story yet. What happened?"

"At the end of the escape, your brother, the King, and the Seneschal fought the demon, three on one. The demon temporarily left its host to make the odds three on two, but it didn't seem to be working," Tianna explained, "The demon then feigned being permanently expelled by Garen's strikes, appearing to abandon its host to Garen. Your brother let his guard down when he tried to calm the host down, allowing him to turn the tides. Between the surprise factor and the returning demon's power, both demon and host was able to escape your brother's clutches."

"The host summoned Nocturne back?"

Tianna paused, "You know its name?"

"It introduce itself as such."

"I see. Whatever the case, the actions the host took to make you believe it was under the demon's thrall were likely an act," Tianna continued, not caring for Lux's reaction, "Which brings me to the main reason we're here. That demon... what did it truly say?"

Lux flinched at the accusation. She wasn't sure how Tianna knew what the demon said, or even if she knew. Nonetheless, she couldn't lie. Her aunt would sniff out any bluff she gave anyway.

"I wasn't lying when I said the demon thanked me. But, it wasn't because it thought I freed Sylas," the light mage answered, "It seemed to suggest that not supporting Sylas was the action that 'caused great suffering'. As if he wasn't the one who killed Jarvan's father and is causing a war..."

"Indeed," Tianna regarded her coolly. She'd given Lux quite the talking down after she'd returned from escorting pacifist mages from the capitol. Needless to say, she didn't quite buy Lux's hostility for the Unshackled mage.

Which was a shame, because in truth, Lux's feelings were quite genuine. She agreed that Demacia's treatment of mages was unjust, and needed to be changed. That was all they shared at this point. At the time, Lux hadn't learned of Jarvan's father's murder. Yet, as she'd escorted the mages out of the capitol, the true horror of what Sylas had done to Jarvan had dawned on her. She couldn't have anything but contempt for someone who'd go so low, never mind supporting or, Protector preserve her, being attracted to them.

Lux channeled those feelings when she replied to her aunt, "I didn't take kindly to it."

"So it would seem," Tianna nodded, "Then the demon was trying to trick you into making a mistake that would make it stronger."

"I thought the same. I wasn't sure about the host, though."

"The host that's bonded completely with the demon?" the High Marshall's face was the look of disappointment.

Lux hoped to change that, "The demon's intent was to cause as much suffering as possible; it believed tricking me into joining the mages would do so. Yet, so would killing Jarvan, or Garen, or anybody, really. Yet, the demon struck didn't strike to kill, and even used blood magic to heal those it maimed. Why would that be if the host wasn't completely under the demon's control?"

"So you still believe the host can be saved?" Tianna asked. The High Marshall seemed to shrug the question off immediately, leaning into her chair, "Mercy has its value, but not here, not now."

Lux bristled internally at the point. Her compassion seemed to be something Tianna had a problem with. But, whilst Lux was naturally more merciful than her aunt, she knew how the High Marshall worked. "That demon might be more powerful than Sylas, and its host is at least an equal. If we don't free him, the mage revolution will gain a threatening ally."

"Perhaps you're right, but if your magic is the only thing that can free the host, then that prospect may as well be moot."

Lux understood immediately, "You're not going to let me try."

"No. It would be to costly to try contain both host and demon, assuming they aren't melded completely together at this point," Tianna frowned, "In truth, I suspect this most recent attack was our last chance to free the host. Even if you had your brother's martial skill, with the rebels still missing we don't have the manpower to sustain a hunt. Unless the demon comes for you again, you won't have the chance."

Unable to argue with the truth, Lux sighed, "Alright then. So what now?"

"Now, we fix an ongoing problem," Tianna replied, taking a stern tone once more, "For what ever reason, you've found yourself consistently in danger's eye. Save for Fossbarrow, it's found you wanting each time. We'll be changing that."

Ignoring the insult, Lux asked, "How so?"

"This morning your brother approached me with a suggestion. With the rising tensions in the country, he believed you should learn how to use a sword. I for one agreed."

Lux frowned, recalling the last time Garen had tried to teach her swordplay, "I'm not sure that would work."

Tianna caught the implication, "Fighting like Garen never would've worked for you. Thankfully, that demon's rampage forced many good swordswomen to take medical leaves; among them Alys Morn. She's as good a warrior as your brother, and perhaps more technically skilled. I've arranged for her to be attached to your escort, at least until her recovery is finished. Between her and your escort's relative skill, you should be able to learn something."

Lux had barely recognised the name of Alys Morn before reading her aunt's 'should' as 'will'. Putting that aside, the light mage reflected that if even half of what Garen said about Alys Morn's training program was true, it wouldn't be enjoyable.

"When will this start?"

"Tomorrow at earliest. Miss Morn still has yet to regain use of her torn arm. The healers claim it should be back in two days time; knowing Morn, I believe she'll be ready sooner."

Lux sighed, "Very well then."

Tianna regarded Lux quietly for a few seconds before softening her gaze and speaking, "I know don't want this, but this time, it truly is for your good. This arrangement isn't about the family name. Much is happening, you need to learn to defend yourself as a Demacian should."

"I understand," Lux replied, "And I'll do it."

Tianna didn't smile, but the proud shine in her eyes was the closest thing to it that Lux had seen since youth, "Good. It's high time you took to your heritage. Strength through discipline."

"Honor through diligence," Lux finished the motto, gave a respectful nod, and left her aunt's office.

Whilst not to the same extent as her brother, Lux had embraced the motto as a guiding force through her life. Perhaps her commitment to it wasn't as obvious as Garen's heroics, but any of her teachers would agree that she followed the Crownguard motto to the letter. The praise Garen gained from his demonstrations of the motto did admittedly irk her somewhat, but she was content with her own achievements.

Yet, with the troubles ahead, Lux suspected - and hoped against the idea - that she'd have to match her brother to survive.

Author's Note: I guess 9k chapters are just my norm now. I guess I can't condense to save my life!

I'll be posting the pictures for the previous chapter on my Deviant Art, which, again, is linked on my profile. Check it out if you're interested. Alternatively, the AO3 crosspost should have it up soon as well. Within the upcoming week, I'll hopefully be able to get this chapter's image up as well.

As always, thanks for the support thus far. Please leave a review; I appreciate any feedback I get for the fic, as it can help me improve or show where I'm succeeding. Late Merry Christmas, see you next chapter, and have a happy new year!

[Edit 20/03/22] - Textual errors corrected. Some diction was changed concerning Jarvan's coronation as well to make the chain of events more coherent.