Though an undoubtedly beautiful Demacian vista lay before her through the window, Yin couldn't shake off the heavy feeling in the air.

For the first time since she'd properly met Xander, she'd failed a mission.

That wasn't to say it was a consistently smooth ride. The rebels in the Varju Mountain campaigns were tricksters, and had forced them on the back foot many times with excellently timed ambushes. The rebels at Rokrund were even more skilled, and the lord that sponsored the whole thing was brutal, and died hard. But, they'd always gotten through. Sometimes it was Gerris' fortitude, or Erret's cunning; one time, she'd even stolen victory from defeat using her blood magic to cripple a rival basilisk. But, most of the time, Xander had been the key to their victory. In hindsight, his almost prophetic tactical choices and manipulations were clearly just abuse of dream magic and demon familiars. But, superstitious as it was to believe it, Xander seemed to bring an unnatural fortune to the table that had guaranteed their victory.

It certainly seemed that way as Yin reflected on her experiences with her boss. She'd first seen him in his premier match, where he'd pulled off an upset victory on Erret. She'd thought it a brilliant fluke then, grinning despite handing her sister money from a bet. Then, a pattern was formed when Xander and Erret defeated the Glorious Executioner himself, Draven. Granted, that was yet another case of magic abuse, but the fact that they lasted long enough and well enough for Xander's relatively weak magic to tip the scales was testament themselves.

Then came service. Finally assigned to a warband that wasn't a glorified home guard, Yin saw first hand the almost unnatural charm Xander led with. Of course, that too could be explained normally: when everyone else around is the average Noxian asshole, having someone as caring and compassionate as the Demacian import as your leader went a long way. Combined with his martial skill, Yin had decided to bet on Xander's odds when she fulfilled her mission and brought him into the belly of the beast that was the Black Rose. The fact that he lived, even after confessing to aiding Jericho Swain, was miraculous enough. The coup he played not five months later? And the ensuing Mordekaiser Crisis that came with it? If Xander could come out of those events thriving, then betting on him seemed a reasonable move.

And yet, as with all things, he wasn't perfect. But, looking to the scale of his previous trials, it was very hard to believe convincing his own people to help them would be the objective he'd fail at. She understood why; Xander was undoubtedly Noxian, and the Demacian Kingdom and Noxian Empire had been enemies since the end of the Rune Wars. And without powerful allies like Swain, Raum, Vladimir, and LeBlanc to aid him, it made sense that he wouldn't be able to pull out another miracle win.

But that didn't make it any less disappointing.

"Something bothering you?"

It seemed to Yin that wore her disappointment on her face. As if to bandage the feeling, Xander appeared to use his intellect to catch up with her thoughts. Or, it might've been his magic, but who could say?

"Ah. I see... well, sorry for fucking it up;" Xander sighed, "Can't win them all."

"I know that, I was just hoping you'd do something about..." Yin sighed herself then chuckled, "I'm just repeating myself, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Xander grinned as he answered, then frowned, "But I do get it. None of those guys compare to even just Swain... but I suppose that's the thing about it."

Yin raised an eyebrow, "Explain?"

"You've raised the point of my past accomplishments, but they're all relatively the same," Xander paused, carefully choosing his words, "It was... taming monsters. And I've gotten pretty good at it. But those people aren't monsters; in short, not my expertise."

"Your work with the warband makes me doubt that statement."

"Those people didn't have anywhere to go, and they knew it. Aislynn's crew... well, their little sanctuary might suffice if they keep a tight enough lid on it..." Xander shook his head, "I digress. We had to cut our losses. And it's not like it was a total failure."

"How's that? If they believe we're so terrible, how do we know they won't make the stupid decision to tattle on us?"

"Because at the very least Aislynn won't want to, and she's their leader. And from what Nocturne gathered, the main heads are largely in agreement. We won't be getting backstabbed. And even if someone did... that's why Nocturne's not here."

"But Nocturne won't kill them, I presume?"

"Of course not. I'll let them judge their own by their laws..." a grin formed on Xander's face, "That statement actually summarizes the plan quite nicely. Ball's in their court. Nocturne keeps it there until they get the slam dunk we're hoping for."

"...Slam dunk?"

"Right, haven't explained basketball yet, but I digress," Xander sighed, "Point is, we shouldn't have to worry about them going forward. This operation ain't done yet; there's still time for them to join."

"I suppose so..." Yin nodded, paused, then caught the signs of a smirk growing on Xander's face, "But, we won't be waiting on our asses till then. You have plans?"

"Of course. I was planning on keeping quiet about them til we met with Erret and Gerris, but we do still have a few hours to go. So, if you don't mind, I could run them by you?"

Yin closed her eyes with a tired chuckle. The sight outside her window seemed that much more appealing. Xander caught her on her escape, however.

"One fail and I'm suddenly a problem child? Come on, Yin, you know you want to be productive."

"Productivity or no, every discussion we've had in the pass month has inevitably led to a headache of some type, some time after," Yin sighed, "But, it isn't like we have many other options."

"If only those patriotic rebels had your intellect," Xander wished aloud.

"If only you weren't such an annoying ass," Yin shot back, "Now, get on with it; lets see if I can lessen Erret and Gerris' headaches a bit…"

"We'll reconvene after lunch. Two hours, meet at town center."

That was the order Aislynn had given to her men twenty minutes. She'd finished her meal in ten, and hoped her migraine would've faded along with it. It didn't, and if not for the fact her dreams were no longer safe haven thanks to a particular someone potentially make her life worse in them, she would've had a nap. That only worsened her head ache, but she imagined Xander's babbling would only make it worse.

Thankfully, she wasn't alone in her plight.

Whilst Laura, ever attentive, caught on to her exhaustion and fetched a cup of tea, her brother filled the air with his own brand of magic. Of course, there was actually nothing magical about Cheston's music, but he was skilled at plucking the right strings and hitting the right notes; that was all Aislynn wanted of him. But, more appreciated than the sounds Cheston made was the silence Cyrus gave. Not necessarily because Aislynn disagreed with him; he'd come to the same conclusion she'd had over night. But, he had the tendency to be the bearer of bad news.

He certainly had the bearings of it. Scarred, stubbled, and with eyes of iron, he was the closest thing to a general the rebellion had. He wasn't as strong as the famed Garen Crownguard, nor as tactically brilliant as the High Marshall, Tianna Crownguard. But, he was cautious and decisive. His control over his elemental magic was testament to it; he often channeled flames to his palm, letting it grow steadily, yet never losing control and causing a blaze. That was a major fear, to be sure. Yet, if he was ever so slightly less paranoid, Aislynn was sure the singers would have horror stories of Cyrus and his fiery blade. She knew he wanted action, but was fearful of the consequences. It was the smart play, yet the back of her mind itched with the need to make a gamble.. But for now, she was just glad to have his prudent wisdom, and his recognition that she wanted a break.

Unfortunately, his bolder second-in-command held no such hesitation.

Still clad in his patrol gear, Garret walked through the door.

"Aisynn, sir; the south patrol found our missing men. They were trying to get to town to report on the Noxians," he reported, a troubled frown on his face.

Cyrus kept his voice level as he asked, "What'd you do with them?"

"Put them in the brig. Misty made sure nobody noticed."

After taking a sip from her tea and sighing, Aislynn spoke, "Good catch. I'll talk to them later."

Unfortunately, Garret wasn't finished, "Ma'am, when will that be?"

Aislynn shrugged, "When the choice has been made."

Garret glanced to Cyrus, but before either of them could add, Aislynn continued.

"...Which could be some time away; Laura, could you bring them some lunch?"

The nature mage nodded, and left without a word. With her serene presence gone, Aislynn felt the room stiffen into a business mood. She sighed, leaning into her wooden chair for what little comfort it could give.

"Thanks for your report," the dream mage started, before glancing to Cyrus, "Guess we ought to rush?"

"Well, we don't really have anywhere to start," the ex-soldier replied, "You said we had a few hours; might as well use them."

Garret stepped to the table, "How's it been so far?"

"Well, some people still think we should tell the loyalists about it," Cyrus grumbled, "That my telling them tattling will get us all killed has done so little... idiots."

"They're emotionally invested," Cheston noted, laying down his violin, "Most people here don't trust Noxus. The rest have good reason to hate them."

"I'm aware of that, but I'm also aware that if we're going to change Demacia, we'll need the Noxians' help," Cyrus countered, before sending a seemingly pained glance to Aislynn, "I know safety's the priority, but the men are getting antsy. Running decoy patrols won't work forever, and whilst we have a good thing going on here, unless something changes it won't be sustainable."

"If you want to fight, you should've stayed with Sylas."

All the heads in the room turned as the door opened. The flames in Cyrus' hands flared up for a moment before their master forced them down. The heat instead grew in the flame mage's eyes, as he eyed their intruder with wary anger. Said intruder continued, despite the incredulous looks sent his way.

"But let me remind you that we left Sylas because we didn't see the point of his warmongering," snarled Silva, the second-in-command for the sustainers, "So why the hell are we giving the Noxians time of day? We should, at the very least, have moved on from this decision by now."

"We left Sylas because he was a vengeful fool," Cyrus corrected, "Killing nobles without mercy does nothing to further the cause. But, we still agreed there was a cause worth fighting for."

"Perhaps, but at least Sylas is Demacian."

"Xander was, once-"

"Then he's a traitor now, at best; he could be lying. Aislynn, surely-"

"I have considered it, but if he was going to fess up about being Noxian, there'd be no need to lie about once being Demacian," Aislynn answered, "As you say, he's a traitor. That's worse than him just being Noxian."

"And you still trust him?" Silva squinted accusingly, "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing; he showed me-" Aislynn pinched the bridge of her nose as her headache rose up once again, "He's a dream mage like me; it's how he first caught on to me. I saw his memories; he's from Demacia, same as us."

Silva paused at the statement, and for a moment Aislynn hoped he'd seen the light. That hope faded as the bearded man frowned, a bitter pain in his eyes.

"He says he is Demacian, but he is of Noxus just the same," Silva said, "Perhaps once he was a good man, but... I've heard the stories of Noxus. A place where only the cruel survive. Assuming you haven't been tricked by an illusionist with a false name... Xander Ren is not to be trusted, and the men he brought with him even less so."

"Perhaps you're right," Cyrus admitted, "But we do need his help."

"Soldiers are being sent to occupy Meltridge. They were growing before Xander's attack at the capital," Garret elaborated, "There's sure to be an increase of men there and at the border to guard for Noxians. But, they'll be looking for mages too.

"We're getting surrounded," Cyrus summarised, "And it's only a matter of time before someone finds us and lives to tell the tale. Then we're screwed."

"So we actually throw ourselves to the Noxians?" Silva's voice raised again, "They have their own agenda here; they'll kill us all if it'll help their finish mission."

"Then we ensure that they need us," Cyrus replied, "As long as we're useful-"

"And what will we need to do to prove that? Xander confessed that one of his men fought in the Argent Campaign. Someone with Demacian blood on his hands."

"I have Demacian blood on my hands," Cyrus countered, "I've had to kill three men since we settled down here; to keep us safe. I don't like it, but I do what I must to keep us safe. I know you don't like the Noxians, but I'm telling you: if we strive to do more than die in this hole, this might be our only chance to get some momentum."

Silva glanced to Aislynn, a pleasing look in his eyes. She could only sigh regretfully.

"We've got a good thing going here. We can feed ourselves, quench our thirsts... but we can't defend ourselves forever. The Noxians can; even if only by distracting the loyalists for us elsewhere. They'd do it anyway, but if we can directly coordinate with them we could position ourselves out of harm's way just a little longer…" Aislynn frowned as she glanced at Silva; he was clearly not impressed, "I know you don't agree, but… well, I suppose doesn't matter what I think. Or what you think."

"It does, more than you know," Silva said after a pause, displeased, "I understand that you think this is for the best, but that's all I can do. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope this next vote doesn't go your way."

"I share the sentiment. And for what it's worth… I'm sorry I had to disagree on this."

Silva maintained the slight disdain in his gaze, "Me as well… I'll see you on the next vote."

After a pause and a respectful nod, the sustainer left the room. After another pause, Aislynn and Cyrus let a sigh of… whatever it was, it was something they hadn't realised they were holding. Another pause after that, and Aislynn stood from her chair. Yet, as she walked away from the table, she turned her gaze to Cyrus and met his eyes. The ex-soldier sent her a glance that demanded an answer for her leave.

"That'll be everyone out there, huh?" Aislynn asked.

"Looks like it," he said, "What should I do?"

"Can we really do anything? We're not politicians; we're not manipulative; not enough, anyway," Aislynn chuckled bitterly, "If the cunning Noxians couldn't, I doubt we'd do any better."

"So what're you going to do?"

"Pray the Noxians don't meet me in my dreams," Aislynn rose up a couple stairs before turning for her final remark, "Try convincing people, or don't; doesn't matter. Just wake me before the voting starts."

"Of course… hope you can get a clear head with that nap. I'd hope at least one of us gets one."

Aislynn held that wish as she rose to her room and took to bed. She willed herself to have a peaceful, dreamless rest. For a moment, as darkness persisted instead of shifting to a scene, she believed she'd gotten there. Alas, she realised she was thinking, and saw familiar white dagger-like eyes in the dark. All without petricite by her bedside…

Laura found her very much awake an hour later, brooding with bags under her eyes and a concerned look on her face.

The return dinner was a tense affair for Xander.

Whilst he'd come out of their carriage confident, and with his plans refined by Yin's aid. Internally that was shaken when Gerris and Erret spotted him. It crumbled completely when the latter asked how the trip went. He'd hesitated too long, and by the time he opened his mouth, the honest answer of "Not as I'd hoped" was the only thing that could leave his mouth.

They ate swiftly there after. Xander had managed to change the suspect during the meal, and was pleased to discover the progress the Sharpstem garrison had reached. It was hardly enough for the worst case scenario, but hearing that they were progressing faster than usual was music to Xander's ears. But alas, dinner held a single course meal that night, and soon, the Noxian party retired to Lady Elia's office to discuss more sensitive topics. That to lead Xander coming clean, and, as a result, being met with Gerris' murder-face.

"...I'd understand your open nature if they'd actually agreed to an alliance," the ex-reckoner's voice rose in anger as he spoke, "But that you told them everything even now... what in all the hells of the world are you thinking?!"

"We're in this fight together whether they like it or not," though he showed defiance with his expression, Xander mumbled his answer. He elaborated with a harder voice, "They won't stab us in the back; they're Demacian and we're Noxian."

"Meaning?"

"That even if they dared fall to our level, we'd slit their throats the second after they stab us," Xander replied, "And for all they know we'd limp out of it with little but a scar for our troubles. So they won't risk it."

"So it's a gamble," Gerris concluded, facepalming with a grumble, "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that their leaders will recognize that. But what's stopping some idiot fr-"

"Nocturne's there for that," Yin stepped in, "It's hard to support it, but even our leader's brain farts have precautions. Hardly ideal, but considering that Xander's moral high ground plan needs the people - mostly mages - to do the crown's job..."

"Necessary risks," Erret simplified, "Well, not much to do about it now; die's cast, and all."

"…Thanks for the vote of confidence," Xander said.

Erret rolled his eyes, "Yin hasn't juiced you yet. Until then you have my support."

Xander shrugged with a smile. Gerris didn't return it, but gave a respectful nod. The Left Hand of Noxus took that as confirmation that they were in agreement, and turned his attention to their host. Miss de Recht already had a smirk on face; a bad sign, and something too similar to her boss' looks of superiority for Xander to stomach easily.

"Lady Elia, I don't suppose you can forgo telling LeBlanc about this, can you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid not," The matron of Sharpstem chuckled, "But, I will list that the rebel sect under Aislynn is… compromised for our purposes. I'm sure LeBlanc will understand."

Xander grimaced, "She'll understand that she can word that report in a way to get Swain on my ass."

"Then you'll have to spare a few days out of your demon's patrol of the rebel camp. Unless the Grand General is sleepless, in which case, tough luck," Elia's suggestion came with a shrug, "I am still loyal to the Black Rose, I'm afraid..."

The Left Hand frowned for a moment, then shrugged, "... well, I needed some accountability... And it would be most suspicious for you to suddenly pass away in your sleep with a demon of the night at large."

Xander held back a smile of satisfaction when his magic felt Elia's anxiety flare up. He instead though, asked a question.

"I don't suppose could you delay your report?"

Elia cleared her throat of its fears, "W-Well, other than securing my survival, which I've already done... What do I gain from it?"

Still playing the game? Damned Black Rose habits, I suppose...

"It's highly likely House Sharpstem will be exposed during this grand campaign," Xander started after a pensive pause, "Should you survive till that point, I can allow you into our service. Our war band is lauded for its administrative branch, and you would be most welcome there."

Elia squinted with amused suspicion, "And that benefits me how?"

"Not as fancy as a noble title, I admit, but working with us would probably be better than being ambassador to a country that recently discovered you were a traitor," Xander listed, "And where I have childhood ties to the Prince, you're working for possibly the worst person in Noxus, especially in terms of public relations. Might want to leave that ambassadorial stuff to me."

Of course, Gerris got concerned again.

"Wait. Was that your whole plan, once this is over? Become an ambassador, live far from service?"

"No, Gerris, just a sudden thought," Xander replied, restraining his eyes from rolling, "I mean, who else in Noxus could be an ambassador? Most of us think Demacians are stupid and naive, and don't deviate from the stereotype. I mean, could you see... I dunno, Tal- oh wait. The Coteaus..."

"Coteau-"

"Sudden thought, don't mind it," Xander shook it off and was ready to continue productivity until he glance at Elia, who looked far too pleased, "... you know something, Miss de Recht?"

"Well, you do," came the amused reply.

Xander nodded with a smile, "Indeed. You're telling me everything after this meeting."

"That can be arranged... and, you'd be friend of the King, actually," Elia noted after a pause, "I forgot to mention: messages from the capitol came in whilst you were away. Young Jarvan IV has ascended to the throne to properly help his nation combat the evils without and within it."

Xander blinked, surprised, before his pleasant smile returned, "Ah, Jarv's done it? Such a shame that Nocturne's needed elsew-"

The Left Hand paused abruptly, then his smile widened, "Well, I'll see about that later. But anyway, so the new king's taken a hard stance against his enemies?"

"Yes, and the move, most assume, is to rally the country together for it," Elia listed, "No response from Sylas' rebels has yet been made, but with their own propaganda campaign in place I imagine public reception will be as affirming as the loyalists wish."

"Indeed, but it will hardly be enough for the rebels either…" Xander paused pensively, "But thanks for leading me to my next point…"

"That being?"
"What our plans are going forward, of course," Xander replied.

After a pause, Gerris sighed, and mused, "Oh boy, how are you going to decrease my lifespan this time?"

Wow, really? Am I that bad?

The Left Hand made to continue, but Yin stepped in, "I've already helped refine the boss' ideas, but perhaps it'd be more palatable when I say it?"

Gerris shrugged, ignoring Xander's mock offence, "Go ahead."

Yin opened her mouth, gave a hesitant chuckle, then finally spoke.

"Despite failing to get Aislynn's rebels on board..." Yin paused to contain an amusement which, to Xander, had no apparent source, "Xander wants to find and meet Sylas and approach him for treaty."

A moment of silence followed, as the Noxian party digested Yin's words. Gerris glanced at Lady Elia, who seemed to share an opinion. Before they could explode in Xander's face, however, Erret asked the first question. Thankfully, it was one of those Xander was looking for.

"Why do you think this will work?" The saboteur asked.

"It's a matter of wants," Xander elaborated, "Aislynn's rebels are idealists like me, and they find my Noxian ties and Sylas' violence abhorrent for the same reason; those concepts fall short of their ethics. Whilst they agree the current Demacian order is corrupt, and needs reworking, they'd rather not get their hands dirty for it. No murders without bureaucracy and protocol, I suppose."

"So we're both willing to do the dirty work," Gerris summarized, "Why would that make Sylas trust us?"

"It won't. As far as he's concerned, Noxian and Demacian aristocracy - and their servants - are all just swine," Xander admitted, "But, his attitude there infers our solution. He may believe in the just cause of his revolution, but he's most happy simply being its mad dog. Killing those he perceives has wronged him, letting others revel in the joys of revenge. That is who Sylas is currently, and whilst we'll be trying to fix that as the revolution goes on, for now it's our flaw to abuse."

"So... your plan is to point the finger at the crown and say 'them first' to Sylas," Erret assumed.

Xander nodded, "Exactly that."

"Figured..." Erret sighed, "Alright, let's say that works. How will you deal with the men in his sect who don't want you there? You nearly got Aislynn to trust you, but that didn't matter."

"That's because the people in her group are more individualist, and from what Nocturne grasped, their society more democratic," the Left Hand explained, "From what that group has to say, one point of contention they had with the original is that Sylas had too much influence; he could claim equality all he wanted, but it was undercut by the cult of personality people were forming about him. The Liberator, the Unschackled, so on so forth. In short, as long as we convince Sylas, we win."

"And how do we do that when those people are telling him not to trust us?" Erret rebutted.

"Well, they won't be there. According to our... intel..." Xander glanced at Lady Elia as he sidestepped having to explain to her his origins, "... Sylas should be completely isolated from the rest of the rebels. To be specific, he's actually up North, in the Freljord, looking for magic to steal and use for his war against the crown."

"Is there anything in the Freljord worth worrying about?" Gerris asked, arms crossed with a concerned face.

"Nothing quick and easy, to be sure. There may be some secret ancient order similar to the Black Rose there, but Sylas won't accept their help, what with being an extreme libertine," Xander assured, "If there is something that could turn him into a major threat, it'd kill him first, and all we'd need to do is give him a proper burial and go home."

Gerris gave Xander a deadpan look, "… alright, but could you give specifics?"

"Void threats are present there, but the secret ice mage order guards them; I forget their names. They're lead by one of the founding sisters of the Freljord, Lissandra, if that means anything to you. But again, even if Sylas could contact them - they're in the far North - neither party would be content. Lissandra would want servitude, Sylas wouldn't bite. And of course, the Void would just eat him," Xander elaborated, "There also may be demigods of sorts around, but they're like the Void; more likely to eat Sylas than join him."

"… there are demigods in the Freljord?"

"Thankfully they keep to themselves, or the Noxian assault surely would've been stopped in its tracks," Xander shook his head, "Anyways, back to the plan. We intercept Sylas in the Freljord, before he rejoins with his men; explain him things according to our view. From there, we hopefully convince his entire sect to our side, then get to work. We may have to convince some Freljordians that we're trustworthy, but honestly Sylas' violent wishes should win us the day."

"Yeah, easy," the sarcasm dripped off of Erret's voice, "Though, I have to ask, what happens if we can't convince Sylas to join us? If those Freljordians get the better of him?"

Xander paused and frowned lightly before replying, "It would be most unfortunate if the figurehead of the rebellion were to perish without doing anything useful. But, if the frozen wastes must take him…"

Erret nodded with a content smirk, "And the Left Hand returns. Alright, no more bullshit…"

Gerris nodded as well, "There are risks, but if your intel is right, this'll probably be our best chance at getting to him."

"Glad we're in agreement," His team's concerns seemingly solved, Xander glanced to their host, "Now, we will be needing some excuse for it. I wouldn't mind faking my death or something, but for ease of operations, do we have any assets up north?"

"We do, but its hardly notable," Elia replied, "My father helped fund a mining company based in High Silvermere before taking the lordship; the Coldstone Company. They're relatively small, with most of the company men working in various mines around the mountain. Some near Uwendale, some near Silvermere..."

"Silvermere... if the Crownguards go for a family visit in this time, I'll eat my own foot," Xander grumbled, "But it's not as though I have no experience hiding under Crownguard influence."

After a short chuckle, Gerris continued the planning, "So, you and Yin going again, or are we switching it up?"

Xander glanced to Yin, prompting her to speak, "I thought it best that I stay at Sharpstem. Xander's been taking care of much of the business ordeals, so it makes sense that he'd be sent to do these chores. Meanwhile, I've been more prudent during business, so Lady Elia might be expected to refine that into a more politically deductive threat. Not to mention treating with the locals..."

"I concur," Elia briefly added, "So, will Xander be sent on his own?"

"An unnecessary risk, I think," Yin turned her attention to Gerris and Erret before responding, "How's the garrison working? Specifically?"

"They're picking up combat decently well, but they aren't disciplined yet," Gerris noted, "Their formations are sloppy."

Erret sighed, "Then I'll have to go. And I was just getting to know the guys."

Xander scoffed lightly, knowing the real reason Erret was dismayed, "My apologies, then."

"Don't sweat it. Someone has to keep you alive; might as well be the guy who's basically had that job grafted to his soul," Erret joked with a light smile, "So, how do we pack?"

"Enh... as much as you can without causing a stir, I guess," Xander supposed, "There's only so much an average patrol will accept as normal. Though, I am planning on having Nocturne pick up Longinus' parts. Maybe bring along one of your swords and some knives, You'll be my bodyguard, so some weapons would be accepted... Noct can bring the other sword along with the blood bombs."

Yin raised an eyebrow, "Will I need to refill our stock?"

"I've got five; probably will pack two."

With a clearing of her throat, Lady Elia stood up from her desk.

"I trust you can plan out your mission operations on your own," she said, "Xander, speak with me by breakfast with your full plan, and I'll organise your transports. When do you plan to leave?"

"Soon as possible," Xadner glanced to Erret, "Perhaps in two, three days?"

"Two. We'll get it done ASAP," the saboteur decided.

Lady Elia nodded, said her nightly farewells, and left the office promptly. However, rather than actually continue their conversation, the Noxian party decided on silence. After a shared glance with Yin, Erret stood up as well.

"Honestly, it seems we've got it all down," he said, "You got the plan, Elia'll get the transports tomorrow... I'll just go prepare my kit..."

"I get it, you two won't be able to actually do things for a while, no thanks to me. Take the night off, on me," Xander snarked, "Oh, and actually, go pack your knives. Noct will do with the swords."

"Y-yeah. Good night."

Gerris smirked but was silent when Yin and Erret left the room, light blushes highlighting their smiling faces. As the door shut, the reckoner looked to Xander silently, an amused word clearly on the tip of his tongue.

"Well?"

Gerris whispered, "Do you know where the guest rooms are?"

"You're the one who's been staying here longer, you tell me," came the Left Hand's reply.

Gerris shook his head and chuckled lowly. Xander joined him. Rather uncharacteristic of them both, however, the laughter didn't escalate. Gerris held humour to himself and hardened; a shallow smile remained, but his eyes conveyed a more serious tone. Xander responded in kind.

"So, you think this'll work?" Gerris asked.

"Positively," Xander shrugged, "Though at the very least, we won't be praying for success when it comes around. Either we get him or he doesn't leave. But I'm confident in the former."

"Sure you are," Gerris shook his head, "Ah, well, you have your mission. Get out of it alive, and I'll be fine with it."

"Will you though? I mean, if we don't get it-"

"Then your life gets hard, and we may even go home early," Gerris said, "Either way, I'll be there to help."

"...Appreciated..." Xander replied, then chuckled, "I haven't even left and you already miss me."

Gerris scoffed, but didn't deny it, "Well, we still have time. Why don't we go find those rooms?"

Xander stood and smiled cordially, "Walk and talk?"

"Sure," Gerris returned the gesture in kind, "I do still need to regale you with tales of the Sharpstem trainees' stupidity..."

Author's Note: With the aftermath of the first capital arc largely finished, the next few chapters will be plot progression. Furthermore, if this fanfic were a TV series, we're approaching the half-way point of the first season (out of three, assuming I don't deviate from my general plan). Regardless, onto the next phase of the revolution: meeting the first revolutionary!

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. See you next chapter.