Redefinition

by Enth V

As the Demacian Mage Rebellion begins, a group of Noxians is sent to further the empire's agenda. Led by the mysterious "Left Hand of Noxus" - a man who was once Demacian - the group aims to bring down the current regime. But, as the civil war breaks and the group's ideals are tested, only one thing is certain: the Left Hand knows more than he should... [SI-OC Fic]

19. Chapter 19

Aislynn wished she could've been content with the results of the town votes. Or relieved. Or concerned. Or, in truth, any emotion was fine as long as it had to do with the vote. The resulting decision of neutrality could've been taken in any number of ways, after all. Alas, she couldn't really afford to think of the vote; not with the problem on the horizon.

"Uh, Aislynn?"

The reincarnate looked to her friend with a blink. Laura had reported to her the results of the vote, but even with the nature mage's concise breakdown of the poll Aislynn had zoned out. Aislynn cleared her throat.

"Apologies, I wasn't... my nap wasn't as good as it could've been, shall we say," an awkward chuckle left Aislynn's lips, "Could you... Er..."

"The Noxians were in your dream?" Laura asked.

"No, not the Noxians but their demon," Aislynn explained, "The one we captured."

Laura paled slightly but kept an even tone, "What happened in the dream?"

"Nocturne told me..." Aislynn's mind briefly wandered to the town's politics, only to force a growl upon its return to the dream, "Argh, of all times!"

"One thing at a time," Laura suggested, before refocusing the discussion, "What did Nocturne say?"

Aislynn exhaled her fears before continuing, "They're going north to Freljord, because according to them... Sylas is there."

"Sylas?" Laura was silent for a moment, "...They're going to kill him?"

"They might, but I think they're going to approach him. Convince him to join their alliance," Aislynn scowled, "I don't know... which would be worse."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room before Laura asked her next question, "What are we going to do?"

Aislynn didn't have an answer. What could she do? The Noxians likely were way ahead of her, not to mention likely better equipped for the frozen wastes of the Freljord, what with their nobleman suppliers. And if she somehow got there, what then? She didn't know what the Noxians' plan actually was, so who was to say she'd be in the right? Perhaps they were going to join Sylas, and her stopping the match would result in the rebellion's defeat. The reverse could be true; perhaps Xander needed Sylas dead to take the reigns of the rest of the rebellion, from which he could bring about peaceful change...

Oh, who am I kidding? Aislynn scowled, That last one won't be happening, surely...

Surely?

As doubt raised its ugly head again, another anguished whine left Aislynn's lips, "I don't know!"

The dream mage put her head in her hands as she tried to think. Her thought process went nowhere, but some relief came when Laura offered a comforting arm around Aislynn's shoulder. But as much as it put a comforting cover on it, the yawning void that was Aislynn's knowledge on the situation still loomed underneath. As far as Aislynn knew, there was only one way to solve that issue, but...

"Aislynn, is there anything I can do to help?" Laura asked.

"… Yes," Aislynn decided, "Gather the leaders. We need to talk."

---

Half an hour later, the cabin's meeting room was packed with the leaders of each group. From Cyrus and Garret representing the defence corps, to Cheston and Laura representing the mages who'd brought their non-mage family along, and the leaders of everyone else in between; they were all in the room, looking at her. For this was the oh-so-creatively named Council of Leaders, and Aislynn was its de facto leader.

Since splitting from Sylas and founding their new community, Aislynn and her allies had drafted many forms of leadership. Whilst the loose leadership structure of Sylas' rebellion - or lack thereof - made it hard for their foes to pin them down, it was largely underwhelming and ineffectual in all other matters. Direct orders and leadership roles were assigned in conflict, for defending hideouts and raiding noble settlements. When it came to the logistics of the rebellion - where to hide, how to feed their hidden population, and other tasks - Sylas largely left his people to themselves. In hindsight Aislynn realized this was a recipe for internal conflicts; something she suspected didn't occur earlier only due to the unifying stressor of surviving against the Demacian crown's oppression. But just because it was working fine then didn't mean Aislynn intended to put the issue off with her new community. So, she began drafting.

It was a difficult process, given that Aislynn's only political experience came from student governments in her past life and criticizing proper regimes both on Earth and Runeterra. The system she came up with was her best attempt at a representative democracy. Early on in the community's founding, the families and individuals that had followed her had split into roles. Some mages were inclined to farm work thanks to their gifts, others to architecture or industry (basically just blacksmiths), or, of course, security. These roles were the categories by which Aislynn divided the community; the industrialists, farmers, builders, and soldiers. How many council representatives each community would get was dependent on how many people were in said role. Each representative was then given a vote on the council, among other things - being chosen out of your role-group to be a representative would grant the elected person clout, with which they could lead and manage their people better. By the numbers, every person in the community was represented, with each representative roughly corresponding to five families. No despots were present here: Aislynn herself was just one of the builder group's representatives. It wasn't a perfect system by any means, and even after the first election Aislynn had began drafting modifications, but it was the best thing they had.

The council numbered at twenty three, making them a tight fit for the community house's living room. Back when she was still just one of Sylas' close followers, Aislynn would've shivered under their combined gazes. The sight before her now was hardly as intimidating. Granted, since the community's founding she'd become de facto leader thanks to the being respected as the mastermind behind the whole council system, but Aislynn still logged her new confidence down as due to gained experience. Now, she only shivered because of the news she had to bear.

From the room's corner, seemingly hiding behind his fellow farmer representative, Ramver, Silva glared particularly hard. Aislynn suspected he'd guessed at the meeting's purpose, and figured he'd be going on a tangent soon enough. He wasn't alone, Aislynn knew. Jarin, a hydromancer who represented the industrialists, had lost siblings during the Argent Campaigns. Serice, leader of the community's local spy network and soldier representative, was widowed from the same event, her childhood darling being conscripted and never returning. Her brother and fellow soldier representative, Ronit, felt similarly. Gerold, a fire-mage industrial representative more influential than Jarin, had lost his father during the Noxian invasions decades prior. She could go on and on...

Thankfully, there were some silver linings. Ramver, Aislynn knew, was supportive of at least playing along with the Noxians, if only to be in the know and to set up for an eventual betrayal. Gerold, despite his loss, was much the same, assuming his mother didn't sway him on the given day. Of course, Cyrus was relatively on board with whatever Aislynn thought, as long as it was safe, and so was Cheston for that matter. Jonathor and Barth, the two other soldier representatives, surprisingly also believed Xander's offer was an honest one, and claimed it was their only smart move if they wanted to defend themselves from the crown without Sylas. The vote for one of Aislynn's propositions, Aislynn believed, could go either way. The other...

As predicted, Silva went straight to the point, "So, why'd you call us here?"

Some glared at Silva for the rude and sudden question, giving Aislynn time to collect herself. After giving a sighing exhale, the dream mage explained.

"... Alright, I'll just say it. The Noxians contacted me through their dreams; they've said they're going after Sylas."

It took nearly all of Aislynn's willpower to simply keep her gaze on her audience. She waited for the explosion of questions and curses. However, for a short moment, the question lay still in the air, unchallenged.

Cyrus eventually broke the quiet with another question, "Did the Noxians say what they were going to do, or where they were headed?"

Jonathan nodded, noting something in his head, "No spy from our end or from Sylas' rebels have seen him for months."

Aislynn sighed, "Nocturne - the Noxians' demon - was vague as could be. He just said they were headed to the Freljord; my main contact with the Noxians would be gone for the foreseeable future."

Silva raised an eyebrow, "And they told you this because...?"

"To keep in contact, I'd assume," Aislynn muttered, "We were still discussing the topic when they left..."

"And I assume it's time to open back up that topic, given the new circumstances," Silva claimed, "What will the vote be on? Will we finally deal with the Noxians?"

"I'd rather keep our options open; we still don't know what's actually going on," Aislynn replied, sighed, then let out her plan, "My proposal is to change that. I suggest a mission. Headed by a small party - five people at most, probably less - the mission is to go north and find Sylas or the Noxians. It'll be a reconnaissance mission, meant to determine both Sylas' and the Noxians' plans."

From a corner of the room, Aislynn saw Gerold duck to listen to one of his underlings. The blacksmith frowned, prompting Aislynn to mirror him. Gerold caught her gaze and stood straighter.

With a gravelly voice Gerold questioned, "Will this mission only be reconnaissance? Or will this group be able to act beyond that?"

"Ideally they shouldn't need to act," Aislynn answered, "But if push comes to shove - and it likely could for either group - then yes, aggressive actions can be tolerated."

"But the mission's priority is to get key info and return to the hideout," Barth assumed. When no disagreement came, he leaned into his seat at the table, "Well then. Sounds like a good plan, boss."

"Of course. She's smart like that," by Aislynn's side, Cheston chuckled. The builder representative stood up to glance around the room, "Unless... If any naysayers have any counterpoints?"

No reply came, so Cheston addressed Aislynn, "Well, that vote passed easily. And we can save our lots for the next... I think we can trust our present spies to assemble a party... unless my suspicions are correct in that you have another suggestion?"

Fuck, was I that obvious?

Aislynn grimaced and slowly nodded.

"I... do have a proposition," Aislynn steeled herself before proceeding, "I believe I should join the mission."

Silence did not follow Aislynn's words. Save for a surprised blink, Cyrus wasted no time in sending a rebuke; masked by his louder, clearer voice, others mumbled with the fire mage.

"That's far too risky," the fire mage said, "You're too important to the community. You leaving for long periods would be bad enough; that you might not return at all... no, that's a bad idea."

"You don't need to put yourself at risk, either," Barth added, "A team of Jon, Serice, and I could easily make it north undetected, and we're spies for a reason: we'll be able to find them."

"But what happens when you do find them?" Cheston asked from behind Aislynn. Though she had no way to confirm it, the dream mage knew her friend had figured out why she wanted to go, "Aislynn's the only one here who Xander Ren seems to trust. Not to mention Sylas…"

Did you have to bring that up?

Aislynn cleared her throat awkwardly before continuing, "They do trust me. More than that, they seem to want my support. If it comes to it I might the only one who could convince them to stop whatever it is they're doing."

"I thought this mission was going to be a reconnaissance mission," Serice glanced with suspicion, "We voted on neutrality, Aislynn. If we're sticking to that, I don't see why you need to go."

"We voted on neutrality concerning the Noxians because we didn't know what they were doing," Aislynn clarified with some irritation in her voice, "If it turned out they were lying and wanted us kneeling at their feet I'm sure you'd forgive me for saying no on behalf of us all."

Of course, from his corner of the room, Silva had a snide remark to make.

"Glad to know it, boss."

Perhaps it was an attempt at buying time, but it didn't matter. Serice paused, but found she had no counter argument. She nodded and backed off. Silva remained silent as well, not pressing further. But where one opponent was pacified, another took its place. Gerold stood from his seat and raised the next counterpoint. Or rather, he repeated the one Aislynn had sidestepped.

"In any case, you leaving, I believe, is too great a risk," the industrialist representative argued to Aislynn before addressing the whole group, "Despite our differences and disagreements, I'm sure we can all agree: Aislynn, you're our leader. You gathered us together to desert Sylas' cause; if not for you we'd have been executed as traitors one at a time, if not killed in one of his pointless battles. We need you."

Aislynn sighed, "I know I do important work here, but-"

"But you're the only one who can possibly appeal to two monsters, sure," Gerold repeated, "But consider this: they're still monsters. Either one of them could just as easily ignore you and leave you dead in ditch somewhere. It's safer for you to stay here. Let the spies deal with them. If the worst comes to it…"

"If the worst comes to it we may not be able to adapt in time," Aislynn pondered aloud bitterly, "I don't know what Sylas or the Noxians want up north, but I know they both want the crown humiliated, if not utterly destroyed. If either of them find something that could turn the tide of the rebellion, the crown will grow desperate. That will lead to increased patrols, mageseekers hunting for our kin not just on city streets, but every corner of this country. And if that happens then we might as well have never left Sylas' rebels. Perhaps I won't be able to stop them completely, but I can at the very least mitigate their worst impulses."

"And if you die, what then?" Gerold asked, "You're holding this community together."

"…No, I'm not."

That shut up Gerold and caused a ripple of mumbles across the room. Aislynn sighed, momentarily regretting her blunt, impulsive tongue. She quickly shook her head and stood up to elaborate before anyone could make the worst assumption.

"I brought you all together, yes, and I was able to coordinate and organise all of you here… but I'm not the one holding the community together. You all collectively are," Aislynn paused to let her points sink in before continuing, "I didn't even inspire you guys to defect: I just gave voice to an idea in all of our heads; that the way Sylas was leading with the revolution was evil. Whilst I did help with the original sorting of responsibility, I'm not the one who gets the food for dinner on time; I'm not the one who's expanding our living space; I'm not even the one defending us from any prying eyes everyday. That's thanks to all of you."

"But... you're our leader," Gerold mumbled, "We may be able to do our jobs, but you're the one who brings us together. You're the one who directs our work to the good of the community."

"Am I? Perhaps at first, yes, but if what you're suggesting remains true to this day, then what's the point of the council? Of our votes?" Aislynn asked, "You can continue to coexist, survive, and thrive without my help. Because I'm not your ruler; as much as you call me such, I'm not your boss. I'm just one of you, with a voice as loud as yours. You don't need me to lead you guys."

A short pause filled the room after Aislynn's speech. The dream mage hoped for a moment that it would be enough to end the conversation before the vote, but of course, it wasn't so. Silva hummed pensively from his corner of the room before asking a final question.

"So, if you're not our boss, if we decide you should stay, you will?" He asked.

To her shame, Aislynn's reply wasn't immediate.

But, she vowed, "Yes. If all of you are certain, if the vote doesn't pass in my favour, then I will stay. But I assure you; you don't need me. You're all leaders as much as I am. So please... I may be important here, but I'm needed elsewhere. I know you'll all do what you need to do; let me do what I have to do."

A final silence filled the room. Aislynn glanced around as she sat back down. Whilst some of the more outspoken people held stern expressions, others had thoughtfulness in their faraway gazes. As her eyes tracked those of her contemporaries, Aislynn found her gaze not leaving Cyrus'; there was an unbending will behind his cinder-like pupils.

"You've got your lots since we entered," the soldier representative noted, "It's time we used them. You know the drill. Talk amongst yourselves if you need. We reconvene here in an hour."

---

"You really believe the system will work?"

"It should work until I get back," Aislynn shrugged, "And if not... the point of the voting system is that if some people are displeased with some function of the system they can start a vote to change it. I'll admit what I made isn't perfect, but I'm sure even in the worst case scenario you guys can fix it as you need to."

"Protector forbid that... alright. You'll have my vote. Maybe I'll get the others' vote as well."

"That would be appreciated. Thank you."

Her fellow representative walked off with a nod, leaving Aislynn to sigh in relief. Her work wasn't done, however, so she shortly began her walk back to the town center. The dream mage's mind began to tick with political math and interest logging.

So most likely two for the soldiers, and all the builders for letting me go... the farmers basically all against me, same as industrialists basically... but maybe Jarin can change some opinions? Ugh, this is not looking good thus fa-

"Aislynn!" Cheston's call got her attention, "So... how'd the talks go?"

"Jarin's with us," Aislynn confirmed, "We may get more industrialists; maybe even the farmers he's friends with, if we're really being optimistic."

"Yeah, like that'll happen," A shaky slump grew on Cheston's features, "Here's hoping, though."

Aislynn frowned, "The builders are with us, right?"

Cheston mirrored her, "Not all of them. Stedd's not with us, and he'll likely bring Esvele with him"

"Really? Shit... well, do you have anything good to report?"

A light throat-clearing got Cheston and Aislynn's attention. They found Laura walking up the path from the farm fields, a confident smile on her face.

"I got Ramver on our side," she announced, "Which basically guarantees Silva's vote as well..."

"Leaving us back at square one," Cheston finished, "So, how's it looking like?"

Aislynn quietly calculated the votes briefly, then answered, "Ten for, ten against, three likely undecided... with all three being the soldier reps."

"Well, that gives us a clear path then," Cheston said, "Do you know where the soldiers are?"

"Did they leave the community house?" Laura asked.

"They stuck close to it," Aislynn answered.

Cheston squinted, "How'd you figure that?"

Aislynn only pointed to a cluster of trees by the side of the road. Cyrus was leaning against one of the nearby trees, arms crossed. He towered not only over Garret, who was attempting to appeal to him, but the spies. Whilst Serice and Barth appeared to approve of whatever decision had been made, Jonathor and Garret appeared to be in the process of being pacified by some point Cyrus had made. They clearly still disagreed, but seemed to have no counterpoint to argue with.

"...I guess it'll do. Trish was wondering about promotions; maybe this'll suffice? If it goes through, of course," Garret chuckled, before pausing and turning to face Aislynn, "Well, you took your time."

Aislynn bit her tongue to stop her instinctual response - that she needed the others as much as she needed them. They didn't need to know that. Straightening her posture and putting on a stoic face, she approached silently. Cyrus watched patiently as Aislynn took her place before the soldier representatives. The cold look in the fire mage's eyes would've stopped Aislynn's train of thought were there anything on the tracks.

With no clear introduction, Aislynn decided to start with the obvious, "You know what I'm going to say."

Cyrus nodded, "Vaguely, yes."

Aislynn continued with assumptions, "But you disagree for some reason, or in some places."

"Indeed," Cyrus answered, "In summary, I think you going is foolish and risky."

Aislynn felt her confidence waver for a moment, then asked, "...but? There is a but, right?"

"But I do agree that it has merit," Cyrus admitted, "Maybe it's as necessary as you say."

"Hopefully not, given what that entails..."

"Of course, but that is still a possibility, not a guarantee," Cyrus replied.

"If a result would bring the crown on us harder, it'd be due to Sylas' actions," Garret clarified, "And given it's just him and his ragtag friends against supposed Noxian elite with a demon in tow... well, I suppose Sylas has gone through worse."

"In any case, however bad the Noxian plan is, I imagine it to be more subtle than Sylas', and they won't do anything reckless or bold," Cyrus said, "Given that, I think it best to leave this mission to the spies."

Aislynn frowned, "And if you're right, you'd be fine just letting the Noxians take over the remnants of Sylas' revolution? That'd just be delaying the problem. And if you're wrong, and Sylas has a cataclysmic plan, and he gets past the Noxians, what then?"

Cyrus left the comfort of his tree backrest and approached Aislynn with a sigh.

"We'd at least have a guarantee of strong leadership to get us through the crisis," Cyrus smiled, "But of course, I suppose it'd be best to skip the crisis. And if strong leadership is maintained as well, then that's wins on wins."

"...and?" Aislynn's voice brightened with hope, "Are you going to vote in my favour?"

"If a condition is met," Cyrus said, "And that's the key thing. I don't just need your approval: I need you to be able to convince the others that this condition is acceptable."

The others would disagree?

Regardless, Aislynn had no other options, "Alright. What's the condition?"

Cyrus nodded, "Its a simple arrangement. You need someone watching your back; someone whose fighting experience doesn't amount to distracting and running away. So, if you're going, I'm going too."

It took a second for Aislynn to comprehend Cyrus' offer. After a moment, she blinked, and tried sputter out a question.

"Wait, but... wouldn't-"

"It be the same situation as with you?" Cyrus finished, "Perhaps, but I have more going for my men's independence than you do."

"As Cyrus has pointed out, the main reason he's been elected military head was because he was the highest ranking back with Sylas," Garret explained with a dull chuckle, "A position he gained because he organised raids well. Not so much defence... or so he says."

"You're the one who plotted out the patrol routes, not me," Cyrus shrugged, "And it's proven a lot more effective than sitting by the cave's mouth waiting for an army to show up."

"Wait... that's it?" Aislynn recovered, "Just you following me on the mission? Nothing else?"

"And convincing everyone else to accept, which would be the hard part," Cyrus nodded, "Yes, that is all. What else were you worried about?"

Aislynn shrugged, "More voting power to ensure the soldiers could efficiently work?"

Cyrus turned to Garret, "Would that help?"

"Not substantially," the soldier representative replied, "We can pass on that."

Cyrus smiled to his subordinate then to Aislynn, "So, can you accept?"

"It's not like I have a choice," Aislynn sighed, "But I suppose having your sword would make dealing with those idiots a lot easier."

Cyrus chuckled, "Alright then. Guess it was that easy. At least, that pa-

"And as for convincing the rest of the council, we don't really need to," Aislynn spoke with a tone of realisation, "If the vote passes, they were probably just going to let you and the other soldier reps choose the team; it's your expertise, after all. Maybe they'd complain about you leaving as well, but we could just leave before anyone realises."

An amused snarl crawled on Cyrus' face, "Would that work?"

"I've heard it said that its easier to ask forgiveness than permission..."

On both Earth and Runeterra, now that I think it...

A frown grew on Aislynn's face, "Hm. I suppose the Noxians are being a bad influence on me; that saying definetely came from them."

"Well, I'm sure you can bring that problem up with them when we head out," Cyrus took a step to the beaten path, "Now, let's get this vote finished. I still need to sharpen my sword."

---

When Lux thought about it, it felt silly to feel any sort of negativity given her life. Sure, she was a mage hiding in an anti-mage country, but then again so were many others. And where they worked to the bone to survive on measly meals, Lux now sat opposite her aunt, dining on the finest cuisine in the country on little more than her family's name. Additionally, where her fellow mages might not be able to control their powers, Lux had the fortune of her parent's aid and the misfortune of a certain manipulative mentor's advice to keep hers in check. And finally, where they had to fear for their lives every day…

Well, perhaps Lux could put a pin on that.

Since the attack at the capital, the rebellion had picked up steam. Security sweeps of the capital uncovered hidden mage spies in the city, who claimed to have many other sleeper cells in every corner of the country. This was worrisome enough, but reports soon came in that the rebellion was starting to act up elsewhere. Most notably, Jeyne Spiritmight, one of Jarvan's more distant cousins on his mother's side, disappeared somewhere south. At the same time, reports of mages on the northern border - both Demacian-born and Freljordian in origin - were increasing in frequency. Both problems required the attention of figures of great authority, leading to Garen leaving for the north and Jarvan taking a hunting party south. That left Lux to stay in the capitol for her safety - a capitol that was trading freedom for safety by the day with the rising threat. And to make things worse, Lux didn't even know if the measures taken were working; Aunt Tianna was busy for most of the day, she hadn't heard from Jarvan or Garen in a week.

It seemed the light mage's concern was visible. After taking a graceful sip from her wineglass, Tianna spoke up.

"Are you alright, Luxanna?"

"Yes, aunt," Lux replied, only to put down the facade on account of it sounding halfhearted at best, "… Well, not completely. Just concerned about everything is all."

"Both the king and your brother are skilled warriors escorted by men of equal skill," Tianna assured, "They will be fine."

"Of course, I know that, but…" Lux frowned, "I guess I feel like I'm not doing enough."

"What of your studies? And your training? Surely those has kept you busy?"

Lux fought the urge to roll her eyes at the suggestion former, but pains to her arms and legs meant she couldn't fight a frown directed at the latter. Training was… rough, to say the least. Remembering the previous training session, Lux recalled a painful, repetitive process. Five consecutive times, Lux found herself on the floor with skin sticky with sweat where it wasn't pained and purple. Fve consecutive times, one of her escorts lay in similar fashion by her side, having been defeated to save her from a misposition of some kind. Five consecutive times, Lux had to watch in vain as her escort's second-best blade, Sergeant Praytor, essentially get slaughtered by his superior, Alys Morn. The Vanguard veteran, who claimed to still be recovering from her wounds, was a demon with a blade who found little difficulty in humiliating Lux and the rest of her escort on a daily basis.

"My studies are fine," Lux finally said, "But the training…"

Again, Tianna read her niece's face. At her aunt's analytical gaze, Lux felt the urge to clam up with shame. Needless to say, she was surprised by Tianna's next remark.

"I found your last two bouts with Miss Morn this morning impressive."

"Impressive?" Doubt was audible in Lux's voice, "She wiped the floor with us…"

"Indeed, but if she didn't she wouldn't be deserving of her accolades with the Vanguard," Tianna replied, "Yet, in those two fights… you had a short three minute break between bouts to plan for the next. In that time, you not only determined how Miss Morn tricked you the previous match, but how to counter it, and the following three counters she'd make. If she was going easy on you you might've taken the win that final round."

That surprised Lux even more, "She wasn't going easy on us?"

"I've known Alys Morn for some time now," Tianna noted, "She has never been one for putting half effort. Perhaps when she sparred she was not at her best, but she was most certainly trying. Given that, and that during the bout you were a boon to your men rather than a weight… you have earned my praise."

Despite everything between them, Lux couldn't help but feel pride swell in her chest at that. If there was one thing certain about her aunt, it was that pride from her was not easily earned. And from Tianna's insight, it seemed to Lux that out she wasn't as hopeless as she thought. A hopeful smile spilled on the light mage's face.

The threat of a smile hovered on Tianna's face as she shrugged, "In any case, you'll have more opportunities to try on the way to Silvermere."

Lux squinted, "Wait, Silvermere? I'm going back home?"

Tianna appeared an elder, harsher mirror, seemingly offended by the confusion, "You didn't know? Did Morn not tell you?"

"Err, no," Lux answered, "Perhaps she thought you already did so?"

"Perhaps," Tianna accepted the answer with a slow nod before continuing, "But yes, you'll be back home, if only for a moment."

"…Why? Is the situation getting worse?"

"In some cases," Tianna replied, "That the rebels had spies in the city… it speaks to an oversight on our end that could put you or others at risk. Publicly, that is why you'll be leaving."

"But not public?"

"Your brother requested your aid," Tianna answered, "Much like your movements, his had official and unofficial reasons. You know the official reason, but the unofficial reason was that mage rebels were not only spotted up north, but captured. Mageseeker intelligence lists them as direct lieutenants of Sylas, giving us a hint as to where he is."

Sylas… at the sound of her old mentor's name, a range of emotions swirled in Lux's mind.

"…So Garen is trying to find him?" She asked.

Tianna nodded, "Yes. He's been stationed at Aron's Defiance; that's where the Mageseekers are keeping the prisoners, and it provides a decent enough outpost for military action. Speaking of the prisoners, that is where you come in. The mages haven't been generous with their answers. Given your… condition, Garen believes you might be able to help."

Lux nodded slowly, pondering the plan over before asking, "Wouldn't that look suspicious? Why would I be needed at Aron's Defiance?"

"You shouldn't need an answer to justify your presence there: you are a Crownguard, after all. But, the suggested plan would be returning miss Morn to service with the Vanguard," Tianna replied, "A show of thanks, escorting a valued servicewoman back to her rightful place."

"Alright..." doubt formed a frown on Lux's face, "But… I'm not sure it would work. The rebels hate the crown, and if I'm to be queen, surely that would translate?"

"Truth be told, I am of your opinion as well," Tianna admitted, "In all likelihood they would only seek to insult or berate you."

"Then why let me go?"

Tianna's eyes flickered for a moment to the door before answering, "Another unofficial reason: the crackdowns in the city on mages are increasing. The mages we've captured have reported far more, and whilst I believe it to be lies, Lord Eldred likely wont be content until every speck of the city is investigated."

An odd mix of content and disappointment filled Lux, "Then it's for my safety."

"Ultimately, yes, your parents will be able to maintain your training for the queenship whilst keeping you safe," Tianna conceded, "But, I've seen no major risk to letting Garen's plan fall through. And if not there, I'm sure High Silvermere will see improved morale with the presence of its queen-to-be."

"It will. And I'll help Garen as well," Lux said, "When will I leave?"

"The carriage will be ready by sunset," again, the threat of a smile lingered on Tianna's face, "You've grown much, but there is still much to learn. Strength through discipline."

Resolutely, Lux finished the motto, "Honor through diligence."

---

The rasp of stone grinding steel overlaid the crackle of fire. As vexing a noise as it was, it was hardly the worse thing to wake up to. Thus, the only annoyance Aislynn found as she rose from her cot was finding the sky to still be lit by stars more than the sun.

After the vote - which was a close affair, only won by Cyrus' soldier representatives - the commissioned team was scheduled to go as soon as they could. After all, if they were going to intercept the Noxians on their way to Sylas, they'd need to leave as soon as possible. Barth went ahead to Meltridge that morning to catch up with his contacts whilst Cyrus and the rest organized the rest of the team. Barth returned that afternoon claiming that if they got to Meltridge by midnight that night they could get a boat ride north. They took the chance, of course, and were forced to help the boat crew during the river cruise to get a discount. When they got to Uwendale, another discount was gained with some farmer selling horses, leading to their purchase and the party riding ahead. In the end, after a bit more than a week, Cyrus hadn't had the time to sharpen his sword. It seemed he'd woken up to that memory, given how early it was when he likely started.

Aislynn blinked as the sword shined. Whilst its core was dull and worn, the edge of the blade shone sharply. It made her wince and woke her up.

"What's the time?" she asked.

"Sun peaked past the horizon about ten minutes ago," Cyrus replied after a pause, "Barth and I woke up about a two hours ago. He's out by the river; some bird shat on his shirt last night, not to mention that mud puddle."

Aislynn crawled out of her cot with a chuckle then offered an empty hand, "Breakfast?"

"Not going to wait till we get to Raptorwatch?" Cyrus asked.

"Nah. We got the food we need; I'll have my meal now."

With a shrug, Cyrus gave his leader a a sandwich that'd been packed when they first left. As Aislynn began to dig in, Cyrus sheathed his blade and stood up.

"I cleaned up the field already," he said, "Stored about half before remembering about my sword. I'll get back to it."

Aislynn nodded, "Be quick about it. Once the rest wake up, we head into town."

As Cyrus went to do as instructed, Aislynn took to her peers. In the end, they'd decided on a team of five. Aislynn and Cyrus accompanied Barth and Jonathor, who lead the way with their networking and stealth experience. Rounding out the team, a nature mage recommended by Ramver and Silva named Ohlenn. He'd been brought along with a handful of seeds, potatoes, and carrots. With his abilities as a nature mage, Ohlenn had helped with keeping their food stores normal. Perhaps the odd traveler would note the random pits left by their quick vegetable growths, but as far as Aislynn was concerned the skill was more a boon than a detriment.

Where the problems lay, though, was with Ohlenn's personal energy. Whilst the rest of the team was fine and rested, The teen who'd set their food to grow last night seemed rather out of things. From the bags under his eyes, Aislynn figured he still wasn't fully recovered.

"Err... you can get more sleep-"

"No, no, I'm up now," Ohlenn muttered, "Though... could you guys get the harvest done?"

Aislynn nodded, "Maybe if you want to do something you could help with the horses?"

"Sure," Ohlenn yawned, "I'll get them ready to go. Jon can do the packing, though. Him and Barth when he comes back."

Aislynn nodded before walking over to Cyrus. Barth had already joined him, his tunic and hair damp from his trip to the nearby river. Between the two of them, the field had been cleared, dirty vegetables lain on the ground. Cyrus had already taken to an empty sack, filling it with carrots. Barth turned to face Aislynn with a pensive smile on his face.

"If we sell half of this we should be able to get thick coats for the Freljord," the spy thought aloud, "At worst one of us would have to make do with a coat."

"Well, we still have a few miles till the border," Aislynn replied, "Ohlenn could probably grow a few more crops to get the last set. Worst case scenario we'll stick to the border and intercept Sylas or the Noxians there."

"I suppose," Barth sat down and started to fill his sack, "Could you tell Jonathor that he'll take over here? He's a better barterer than I."

Aislynn sat by his side and started to help, "And what'll you do?"

"I was thinking we could hit the local tavern," Barth didn't take his eyes off his work, but he smiled as he replied, "Perhaps you could follow along? Your singing could make that last coat price easier on us."

As it turns out, Barth was right. Raptorwatch was a bustling town established on a river. Being the closest small settlement to High Silvermere, it was filled with well-paid soldiers off duty, merchants en route to trade at the big city, and even the occasional lower lord. In short, it was filled with a more sophisticated crowd than at Meltridge, which in turn meant the song selection Aislynn had in her mind was a novel commodity among them. Enough tips to buy two coats and a drink for the road made Aislynn's chest swell with pride as she returned to the counter.

In contrast to her brief stardom, Barth sat at the counter's corner, surveying from the shadows. Or rather, he would've been doing so were there anything notable to watch for. Of the soldiers off duty, only two were armed, and said two were inebriated. The two travelling nobles present were pleasantly amused and arrogantly dismissive respectively. And most importantly, nobody recognised Aislynn's song. Either Sylas didn't assign a spy to Raptorwatch, or said spy was absent.

The same could be said for the Noxians, Aislynn thought, Assuming Xander shared the music of Earth with his peers... What music did he even like? Was he into mainstream? Rock? Rap? Nah, he was definitely one of those would-be intellectuals who insisted on classical... totally... disregard that he knew about Fall Out Boy...

Well, it doesn't matter. He isn't here.

Though actually...

The dream mage sat by Barth, ordered a drink, then nudged him with her elbow, "Anything interesting?"

"Currently no, thank the gods," Barth replied, "Hopefully nothing bad's at the market."

"Indeed," Aislynn thanked the bartender with a gesture but didn't take her focus off Barth, "How about hearsay? Recent rumors?"

"It'll cost you, lass," the bartender cut in, "An extra expensive drink should do."

Aislynn glanced at the bartender, then to Barth.

"I've the coin," he offered.

"Alright then," Aislynn glanced to the bartender, "We'll take it. What can you tell us?"

As the bartender opened a cupboard on the wall, he asked, "What do you want to know?"

Aislynn watched the bartender take out a bottle of amber alcohol that, if the label was correct, was dated eighty years; definitely something as strong as it was expensive. She grimaced, but not at the prospect of the alcohol. After a pause, she set out her carefully worded question.

"Have there been any travelers from the southern rivers recently?"

"The rivers?" The bartender made a pensive look as he filled Aislynn's mug, "We'll... Aye. Some merchant and his friend came through here yesterday, said they were from... Meltridge, I think? Stayed the night, left the next morning."

As Aislynn sipped her drink - and winced, for it was strong - she noted the bartender frowning.

"Sir?"

"Nothing, just thinking about that night," he chuckled awkwardly, "Must've been my worst night's sleep for years..."

The bartender glanced at the bottle, appearing to consider taking a drink of it. All the while, Aislynn reflected on the new information she'd gained.

Well that confirms it. He was here. Fuck, I missed him! But I'm on the right track, so... maybe we can catch up?

Aislynn glanced to Barth, who nodded in understanding. She then turned her gaze to the bartender, who'd turned to put his expensive drink back into the cupboard. Before she could voice a quick thanks, she was interrupted by another woman's voice.

"I'll have a drink of that, Athas."

Aislynn, Barth, and Athas the bartender turned to face the newcomer. She was slightly shorter than her, Aislynn noted, with a sharper pale face and black hair tied in a braid that flowed to her left side. Though slightly hidden by darkened glasses, Aislynn could identify vigilant eyes analyzing her every feature. The newcomer wore an intricate red cloak over most of her body, with the only other discernible parts of the newcomer's garb being black pants decorated by leather straps and boots; functionality was disguised by expensive quality. With a curt, barely shaped smile, the newcomer sat by Aislynn.

"I'll pay for the singer's tab as well," the newcomer said, "And, I have to ask-"

"You don't have to ask," the bartender countered, preparing the drink with a frown, "You know my rules. Customer confidentiality."

The newcomer sighed, "Of course. But, if the customer agrees...?"

The newcomer would be disappointed, though. Aislynn regarded her with deep suspicion.

Black pants with boots probably useful for hunting, red cloak, sharp aristocrat face... Black hair might even be dye, like Xander's friend apparently has... She has to be Noxian, right?

"Apologies" Aislynn said, taking a sip from her drink to hide her frown, "I'd rather not, miss..."

"Vayne. Shauna Vayne," the newcomer introduced, "Keep your secrets; they aren't my main concern anyway. You are...?"

The newcomer took a long sip, during which Aislynn lightly tapped Barth's wrist. The gesture prompted the spy to begin to gulp down his drink, but given the quality of the alcohol, he needed to pace himself. Aislynn fought a sigh and positioned herself to hide her friend's alcohol consumption, facing Shauna directly.

"Aislynn. Of Terbisia," the dream mage gave her name before asking, "If I may ask, Shauna, what was your main concern?"

"Call me Vayne," Shauna appeared to hide a frown, "My concern was your voice. My home is a silent place. I would not mind paying to have you sing."

"Paying..." Aislynn recited the word cautiously, then asked, "Your name was familiar, too. Are you a noble?"

"Some say so. My parents bought much land when I was young, enough to be considered noble by some," Shauna explained, "They passed recently, and I've been set to inherit."

"I'm sorry for your loss," as paranoid as she was, Aislynn insisted on courtesy. At the very least, it could disguise her suspicious intents, "...And you'd like me to join your household?"

"You seem smart," Vayne shrugged, reaching into her coat, "And because you're smart, I'd like to show you something."

Aislynn paled at the sight of what Shauna wielded. Though not crafted or polished in any way she recognised, Aislynn felt her skin crawl at the presence of the petricite stone in Shauna's hand. Her apprehension only grew with Shauna's smirk; Aislynn could've sworn it was the look of a hunter cornering prey. She leaned slightly into Barth's personal space, but that turned out to help; the spy tapped Aislynn and whispered his leave. He followed up on his claim shortly, after courteously asking excuse and thanking the bartender. Soon, Aislynn would at least have back up.

Shauna watched Barth leave and sighed, "I don't mean you harm."

"You have an odd way of showing it," Aislynn shot back.

Shauna returned the petricite to under her coat, "You aren't safe around here, you know. High Silvermere's filled with soldiers. If you follow me, I could grant you shelter and amenities. More so than the local soldiers."

So, a Noxian noble offering shelter. Could be useful, but...

"That sounds wonderful," Aislynn admitted, "But I'm currently busy. I need to help my friends."

"You're headed north to that end?" Shauna assumed.

Aislynn squinted, "How'd you..."

Vayne smiled lightly, "Surely you've caught on that I hear a lot?"

Aislynn grimaced and promptly took her final gulps of alcohol. After claiming to be needed elsewhere, the dream mage promptly left the tavern. She made a beeline for the tavern's stables, finding the horses of the party and unwrapping their leashes from the nearby fences.

The onlookers' gazes grew as she led the horses to the nearby market. Raptorwatch was a busy town, with streets packed with soldiers and civilians alike. Despite the abundance of faces, though, Aislynn found her team quickly. After all, panic was a rather visible emotion, especially when one knew to look.

They found each other at the market place's edge. Barth led the party of Jonathor, Cyrus, and Ohlenn through the gates. Jonathor held a spare coat in his arm; the rest of the party wore their coats already. It seemed they'd prioritized the apparel, but hadn't finished business; though Cyrus had traded his sack of potatoes for a small bag that clinked with his steps, Ohlenn still had a filled bag, bulky with his unsold produce.

She'd apologize later. For now, Aislynn explained, "We got a red one."

Cyrus squinted, "Red?"

Aislynn mouthed the first syllable of Noxus, prompting a nod from Cyrus and a question from Ohlenn.

"What's the plan now?" He seemed to already be onboard, though, securing his produce onto his horse's saddle.

"Continue with the journey," Aislynn hopped on her horse, "Go ahead on foot, I'll be behind you. Mount up when we pass the gate, then we gallop."

The party did as asked, leaving Aislynn to send a glance behind her. Surveying the crowds, she found no red cloaks or sharp features watching her. She found that the sky was darkening, though; perhaps for rain or snow. The soldiers seemed to ignore her in favor of the weather, looking up and mumbling with concern or jests. That wasn't reason enough for Aislynn to lower her guard, though.

When her horse passed the gate, and the sight of her friends mounting up filled her vision, Aislynn released a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Still, Aislynn glanced around for a brief moment. Again, none of the civilians or soldiers paid her mind, though Aislynn noted a patrol of Demacian calvary trot down a brick path.

The dream mage logged the movement and decided to begin guiding her horse to a different, less developed path. She turned to face her party shared and a few nods and gestures. Before long, the sound of whinnies and hoofs on dirt filled Aislynn's hearing. The breeze that followed was cold on her face, but all the dream mage could feel was growing relief. Raptorwatch was a dot shrinking behind monolithic trees and into the grey horizon.

The trance was shut when Cyrus called out to her.

"Do you mind explaining?" He all but shouted the two times he repeated the question.

The party's speedy gallop slowed to a trot as Aislynn answered, "Some Noxian noblewoman spy approached me. At least I think she's Noxian; she wore a red coat and had hunting gear on. And, she showed me a glowing petricite badge."

"How'd they know we were here?" Ohlenn asked, skin pale at the revelation.

"Xander must've warned her we would be coming," Aislynn muttered, "She offered shelter and amenities, but those were probably lies."

"Are you sure?" Ohlenn squinted, "She may have been genuine in her offer."

"If so, it was to appease us," Barth said, "We still have our mission."

"I guess," Ohlenn frowned, "But if you asked me, we should've heard her out. Maybe we could-"

The nature mage's explanation was cut off by a horn sounding. Glancing to the sky, Aislynn determined it had come from somewhere north of them; where the patrol had went.

"I saw a patrol leave the same time we did," she stated, "They must've run into something."

"So we ought to go the other way," Jonathor declared before glancing down at his map, "If we go south for a couple miles, we'll be at the banks of a river. We follow it, and it'll take us to Snowstone, where we can try sell off the rest of the produce. Maybe even find some aid going up to north."

"Sounds like a plan," Aislynn replied.

Other sounds of affirmation followed, and the horses began to trot ahead. Clops filled the road again for a moment, only to be interrupted by the sound of squishing and a whinny. Aislynn turned around to find Ohlenn fiddling with his sack of potatoes.

"Leave it," she said, "A couple of potatoes won't be substantial enough to change our pay drastically. You can seal it up for lunch."

"Alright, just let me position-" Ohlenn grunted then glared into his bag, then paled again. He reached into the potato bag's whole and fished out from its mushy contents a nearly pierced potato. The vegetable was impaled by a steel bolt of some kind.

Ohlenn's eyes met Aislynn's in a horrified gaze, but before the word 'ambush' could be screamed by the nature mage, a second steel bolt shot through the back of his head. A dot poking out of Ohlenn's forehead, barely visible, joined by blood spurting from the nature mage's nose and mouth, was the only foreshadow for the dead man's fall from his horse.

"Run!" Aislynn ordered, whipping her horse in high gear.

A moment too late. The first step her horse took was its last: a crossbow bolt struck its leg, causing it to fall and pin Aislynn under its hide. Quick, whispered orders informed Aislynn of Jonathor and Cyrus's movement to cover her, but Aislynn stopped Barth from joining in with a loud order of her own.

"Get out of here, Barth!"

Barth's growl echoed only to be followed by gallops that faded. Cyrus entered Aislynn's vision as he ignited his blade, drawing panicked squeals from the horse Aislynn was trapped under. It shifted enough for Aislynn to be released, and a hard yank from Cyrus got her clear of the horse. As Cyrus pulled her to the cover of the tree line, Aislynn watched as their mounts ran rampant across the dirt road, only to be put down by their assailant.

Her red coat was traded for a cape of equal detail, and her dark glasses traded for a red, opaque pair. With the cloak gone, Aislynn saw what had been hidden underneath. In one hand was a massive crossbow, whilst the other had a smaller crossbow mounted on its wrist. Tied to her waist was a standard-issue horn; likely the one that'd been used earlier. On the assailant's face was a familiar, predatory smirk. Framed with blood from Ohlenn's corpse under her boot, Shauna smiled.

"I should've told you then, Aislynn, I always get what I want," the hunter taunted.

"You said you meant us no harm!" Aislynn shot back. Fearful tears were forming in her eyes, but she barely felt them when compared to the rage in her heart.

"I mean you no harm. As I said before, I would love to hear you sing," Vayne purred like a tiger, "Now, your less talented mage friends... three less monsters in this country, and I get some job satisfaction."

Something snapped in Aislynn as she read Vayne's tone, "You think this is fun?!"

Before Aislynn could burst from her cover, Cyrus wrapped an arm around her waist. With his sword, Cyrus pointed to Jonathor, who unsheathed knives from his wait. With a grim, determined nod, Jonathor looped around his cover.

"Cyrus-"

"The mission's off, we have to get out of here; you have to get out of here," Cyrus growled, pulling Aislynn along, "He'll buy us time, now move it!"

Aislynn grimaced, but after a second's hesitation, followed. Cyrus guided her through the trees as the sounds of steel clashing against steel filled the air. Jonathor was a wind mage who used his abilities to silence and speed up his movements, and was one of the better fighters in the community, but his pained grunts suggested he was outmatched. Aislynn cursed herself for ever even giving Shauna time of day then shoved the thoughts to the side; they'd only be baggage-

As Aislynn and Cyrus bounded a short hill onto beaten dirt, Jonathor's body sailed past them. Skewered by a crossbow bolt that went through his stomach and out his back, the wind mage got stuck to a nearby tree. He hissed in pain and tried to pull himself free, but was promptly murdered by a final bolt to the heart. His body went limp, and the knives in his hands fell to the ground with a drizzle of blood.

From the hill, Shauna slid down. The predatory smile on her face taunted Aislynn, but despite the rage in her heart, the dream mage knew Shauna was beyond them. Whether Cyrus knew or not didn't matter, however; he ignited his sword in a display that would've intimidated any regular soldier, but made Shauna snicker.

"Get out of here," he whispered, "I'll hold her off."

"You can't," Aislynn responded, "You won't last alone. We'll deal with her together."

"I'll correct you there, Aislynn," Vayne smirked, "You don't stand a chance at all."

The hunter put her massive crossbow on her back, however, and crossed her arms. A casual pose that Aislynn feared more than her alert one: she had something devious in mind.

"That said, I've decided I want to be magnanimous," Vayne declared, "Surrender now, and I'll spare your friend."

"I trusted you once, Shauna," Aislynn growled, "Why would I trust you again-"

A bolt to her shoulder cut off Aislynn's rant. Cyrus once again grabbed her by the waist, projecting a wall of flame as cover as he dragged them both behind another tree. As the fires died, Aislynn glimpsed Vayne still standing where she last was. Though a disgusted snarl was on her face, it didn't seem to be directed at them. The hunter slotted another bolt to her wrist-crossbow with a sigh.

"Not worth it, could've done it another way," she muttered under her breath disdainfully before finally regarding the mages again, "The offer's still up, but the way. Be thankful I didn't kill you for that."

"For what, Sha-"

If not for Cyrus pulling Aislynn back, the bolt that was fired surely would've ended her life. The fire mage, rather than peeking, let his polished sword lean past the tree. Through the blade's reflection, Aislynn saw Vayne approach.

The hunter aimed her wristbow at the blade with a reinstated smirk, "Last chance~"

Aislynn gritted her teeth, "Damn it..."

Cyrus pulled his blade back and ignited it, "You have to go. Get back, warn the rest."

"It won't work..." Aislynn whispered, "She'll catch up."

Vayne's chuckles echoed through the forest, "What will it be, Aislynn?"

Cyrus pulled at Aislynn's arm, "Aislynn, please-"

But Aislynn had already made up her mind, "If we surrender, you'll spare us?"

"Maybe," Vayne's mirth was audible in her reply, "It's not like you have a choice, do you?"

..."Fine then," Aislynn sighed, defeated, "We'll surrender. We'll..."

Cyrus gave a sigh of disappointment from behind her, prompting Aislynn to glance his way.

"Close the gap," she mouthed before taking a step ahead and calling to Vayne, "We're coming out now."

Aislynn took her third step before Vayne snarked, "Sure you will."

Another bolt struck, just missing Aislynn's foot. Still, it made her flinch and trip. Cyrus immediately hugged the tree for cover as he ignited his blade, but that choice soon became a mistake. A louder piston sound heralded a shot piercing the tree Cyrus hid behind, with the bolt's sharp end barely piercing through the bark. Though not fatal, the wound that Cyrus was left with caused him enough pain to force a yell and brief reposition.

But, if that wasn't enough, where Vayne came from wasn't where Aislynn expected. Flanking through the other side of the tree, Vayne appeared from the darkness boot first. Cyrus didn't fall over from the kick, instead using its force to duck the next shot. With a yell Cyrus converted his turn to a slashing arc with his sword. Flames lit the tree line, but met air. Vayne was on Cyrus the next moment, quick jabs interspersed with bolts to his thigh and arm bringing the soldier to his knees. Cyrus tried for a final strike, firing off a blazing burst from his sword's tip, but Vayne redirected it harmlessly to her side before sending a crippling knee into her foe's nose. Cyrus hit the grassy forest floor then, blood spurting from his wounds, yet still alive.

"No, don't!"

Aislynn fell to her knees to cover Cyrus to the best of her ability. Vayne frowned, unamused at the display.

"You won't kill him: I won't let you," Aislynn vowed.

"And why do you think I should listen to you?" Vayne asked.

"You said it yourself: you want me to sing," Aislynn gulped back a sob, flinching as she realised a tear of fear had fallen down her face, "Damn it, why-"

"You've figured out my reason already," Vayne smirked, raising her wrist crossbow to Aislynn's face, "Because it's fun."

For a terrifying moment, Aislynn thought Vayne would let the bolt fly. But, after a pause and a sigh of disappointment, Vayne let her wrist bow fall. She turned an unimpressed face to the side, facing newcomers heralded by clops and steel shuffles.

"Just in time," Vayne sarcastically remarked.

"We probably could've been later, milady," a soldier garbed in calvary gear - no doubt one of the patrolmen Aislynn saw earlier - stepped through the tree line and lowered his gaze to them, "Two more mages, and the other two as well. Bandits or rebels?"

"The latter," Vayne shrugged, "They're all yours. I imagine you'll want to interrogate them. Your superiors can pay me the next time we meet. I'm going continuing my hunt."

"Wait, but your payment-"

"Next time," Vayne cut off, walking into the woods, off the beaten path.

Aislynn watched the huntress fade into the shadows with tears and rage. She was vaguely aware of Cyrus lightly struggling and of petricite cuffs being wrapped around her arms. The prison bars of her new reality were nothing compared to the new facts presented to her. It should've been obvious, and deep within she knew, but now there was no doubt. Between the Mage Rebels, Noxian spies, and Demacian Crown, there was no such thing as innocents.

Monsters ran rampant in the kingdom of Demacia.

---

As soon as the carriage doors opened, Lux flinched. The storm that had started half way through their trip to Aron's Defiance had calmed down, but its bitter chill still filled the carriage interior like a flood to a valley. Yet, despite that, with only an extra thick cloak to protect her from the elements, Lux's escort left the carriage with a smile.

Alys Morn was, after all, reuniting with what amounted to family.

The Dauntless Vanguard seemed as eager as their lost member; a larger welcome party than would've been expected given the weather was assembled at the mouth of Aron's Defiance's main keep. Though not in any formal formation, the armored men and women framed a path into the hall.

At the head of the party was a man with old, worn features that still held vivacious spirit. He sent a curious glance Lux's way before directing his attention to Alys.

"Did the ladies at the capital miss me?" He jested.

"No, old man, not that many would," Morn replied curtly.

Said old man winced in feigned insult, "You've clearly healed, to be able to wound me so easily."

"Not to worry," a young woman spoke up from the old vanguard' side, "Next spar, I'll surely avenge you!"

The jokes lingered in air for a few short moments before one of the other vanguard soldiers snickered, and a short laugh filled the open air. Even with her being alien to the scene before her, Lux couldn't help but smile.

"We all laugh, but seriously, Alys, Cithria's advanced quite far since you left," the veteran soldier said, "Hess can attest to that."

"I lasted longer than you," A man with cruel features snickered, "But yeah, she'll surprise you, I have no doubt."

"But you did laugh, so clearly you doubted a little," pointed out the young woman, presumably Cithria.

"Well, I suppose we'll see next sparring session," Alys conceded, "Now, can we get indoors? I doubt the cold's doing any good for us, never mind my charge."

With attention back on her, Lux flinched again. Her mind briefly raced as to how she should introduce herself, but she recovered with a clearing of her throat.

"Good afternoon sirs. Or is it evening? I can't quite tell with the snow…" Lux cleared her throat again, internally kicking herself for the perhaps-overly-casual introduction, then offered a hand to shake, "Luxanna Crownguard, at your service."

"Well, I'd hope not: we're suppose to serve you," the veteran held an amused smile as he shook Lux's hand, "Sword-Sergeant Merrek, commander of First Shield."

"Sword-Sergeant Eben Hess", The cruel-faced man introduced himself, approaching with an analytical look before shaking Lux's hand, "You look like your aunt, but… hmm…"

"She does looks like Marshal Crownguard, but… nicer?" Cithria suggested, only to shrink with a blush at Hess' sudden bark of laughter.

"Now what're you saying about the Marshall?" Eben Hess chuckled, "Now, this bold-tongued prodigy is Cithria, as you've no doubt heard."

Lux smiled, "Don't worry, Cithria, I won't be telling my aunt. About your comment; if I get frostbite right now, I think I'll have to explain the situation…"

The Vanguard men gathered chuckled, and Cithria made to open the hall's door. Lux was quick to follow the soldiers through, eager for warmth. The orange torchlight mixed with cleaned oak floors and, of course, the heat from the main hall's many chimneys were welcome.

The main hall wasn't filled to the brim, but it was packed with various military personal. Some were clearly and comfortably off duty, wearing only standard issue slacks and uniforms, whilst others were perhaps taking breaks from shifts, clad in full brightsteel armor. Around the various tables of the hall were plates filled with meats and mead mugs near empty. A cordial atmosphere permeated the massive room.

Save for the corners where blue robes shuffled.

Lux fought the urge to squirm as she noticed mageseekers in the building. She'd, of course, been preparing for the sight since she learned of Aron's Defiance's history. A joint Mageseeker-military outpost meant to deter the Freljord's mystics and hold any intruders, the light mage knew her would-be hunters would be present. Yet, being in close proximity to them was still nerve-wracking.

Thankfully, it didn't seem that any of the mageseekers noticed. Furthermore, they seemed as casually inclined as the stationed soldiers. Less of their number were fully garbed in formal wear, with many only identifiable by their nearby peers. Of the ones with masks and cloaks, it seemed none had brought their graymarks along, and why would they? They were among friends, and surely no mage would be within the walls of the hall, right?

As Lux chuckled internally at the situation, the welcoming party guided them to a largely vacant table, save for two others. They were introduced as shield-sergeants Diadoro and Reika Kol. Diadoro had smiled at Lux, recognising her from their first meeting at Fossbarrow. Reika Kol, a young woman clearly descending from the Ionian refugees from a few decades back, simply nodded respectfully and went off silently; someone needed to get the newcomers their dinner, after all. However, Lux noted one missing character in the reunion.

"Sirs, where's my brother?" The light mage asked, "Is he busy?"

An awkward from formed on Merrek's face, "Probably… he got caught on in the storm."

Lux's felt her heart drop at that, "What? When?"

"He and half of First and Second Shields went out for a standard patrol a while back," Eben Hess explained with a tired yet amused shrug, "Should've arrived half an hour ago, but the storm came up…"

"He should be fine though," Cithria assured, "The men here were sure to distribute gear for the journey. With the local weather, hey've taken care to make sure any patrol parties survive sudden storms."

Lux nodded with a relieved sigh, only for a reply to die on her lips as a new situation formed. Despite the safety of the situation, Lux still felt her skin crawl when two mageseekers rose from a nearby table. Though the younger one was lightly dressed and had an awkward smile, the elder one wore a silver half mask and held a serious expression alien in the cordial environment.

"You are Luxanna Crownguard?" He asked.

"Yes," Lux replied, fighting her fears as she spoke, "And you, sir?"

The mageseeker didn't need speak; Cithria stepped between them and made to introduce the cloaked pair. The elder let her, face an unbetraying granite.

"This is Senior Adept Cadstone, and his apprentice, Adept Arno," the bold Dauntless soldier said, "They're responsible for the interrogation of the mage rebels locked up here."

"Good to meet your acquaintance," Adept Arno respectfully bowed, "I look forward to working with you."

"As do I," Cadstone glanced to the rest of the newcomers and sighed, "I imagine you are still tired from your travels. If you are able, please come see me after you've had dinner. I'd like to resume my interrogations soon…"

Cadstone paused in thought, "… Actually, I'll start ahead. Arno, I'll be in the office if not at the cells."

Arno nodded, "Of course."

With that, the mageseeker turned tail and left. Adept Arno glanced to his senior then to the Vanguard, shrugged, then turned to the vanguard men.

"May I join you?" The young mageseeker asked; Lux felt guilty when she hoped her escorts would refuse him.

Cithria proved that hope wrong, "Feel free to."

Arno nodded and took a seat next to the vanguard who offered it. Lux fought her nerves, smiling silently at the newcomer. Some of the other soldiers - including Reika, who returned with their meals - seemed to keep their biases to themselves.

Not Sergeant Merrek, though, who remarked, "Not a single funny bone in that man."

"He's been very busy," Arno said, "We believe the recent captives we got could be the key to ending the rebellion, or at least dealing significant damage to the cause. Adept Cadstone's very driven as a result."

Eben Hess made a sound of agreement before turning his attention to Lux, "I thought you were just dropping of Alys."

Lux's breath hitched, almost making her choke on her recent swallow. She hoped nobody - particularly the mageseeker - had noticed. Thankfully, Merrek intervened.

"Ah, I forgot to mention," Merrek sighed, "The Captain believes Lux might be able to convince the mages we've captured to spill their secrets."

"Truly?" Cithria raised an eyebrow, "How would that work? If you don't mind me asking…"

"No, it's fine," Lux said, figuring that to keep silent would be more suspicious. But how to explain it, "I… well… I guess its a sort of thanks?"

"Thanks?" Hess held his menacing mix of amused confusion on his face, "What would a mage thank you for?"

Lux paused, taking bites from her meal as she tried to find an alibi or half-truth to cling to. Still, guilt formed a frown on her face. She could cut out her mage origins from the backstory, but…

"I… I was there when Sylas should've been executed," Lux said, prompting disbelieving gasps from the listeners, "I took pity on him as he was to be beheaded, and pleaded with the executioners present to spare him. He used that distraction to break free."

"You held pity for the bastard, and he turned it against you. He spared you though…" Eben Hess summarised derisively, "Yeah, they'd thank you for that. I thought Garen said you were the smart one."

"He also said you were the nice one," Alys Morn recalled, a displeased scowl on her face, "I can understand where you were coming from, but you can't show mercy to mages. Couldn't do it then, definitely can't now."

Cithria frowned, "Alys… isn't that a bit harsh?"

The vanguard veteran sent a confused look to her prodigal counterpart then sighed, "Right, Garen recruited you after your diplomacy at Meltridge. Not all mages are the type to give themselves up peacefully. And with how incensed everything is right now…"

"But still, to kill them all?"

"If it means we don't have another Sylas, I think it'll be worth it," Merrek spoke up, "It's a hard thing we have to do. But, as the captain says: we fight for those who cannot."

Lux sighed, half from relief that her escorts bought her altered story. The other half came from the bolt of shame that struck her. Even if she'd skimped on some of the details, the vanguard men's judgement was valid: the tragedies of the rebellion were here fault.

Shield-sergeant Merrek seemed to notice, and a sad smile caught Lux's attention, "Keep your head up, though, Lux. I saw you at the capital when Sylas tried to kill the king. You saved him, and whilst that doesn't bring anyone back…"

"That you're here means you want to make up for your mistakes," Alys noted, then sighed, "I… can't fully forgive you for what happened. But, that you're not letting your failings keep you down is an admirable trait."

Lux smiled weakly, "Right. I'm… I'm sorry for what I did, but I know I can make it better."

"If not for the men we have captured, I'd believe you," Arno spoke up, but not with disdain or anger. There was an almost sad twinkle in his eyes, "The mages we've captured are an enraged type. Perhaps your offers might've worked then, but I fear now it's too late."

Lux recovered from her anxiousness from the Mageseeker's speech and asked, "But you still think it might've worked?"

"Perhaps mercy is a better tool than we've given credit," Arno said, "If not for my choosing to join the order, I might've made the same mistake you did."

That a mageseeker could even confess to such a thing drew louder gasps of disbelief than Lux's own admission.

Not that Lux could judge, feeling equally surprised, "Truly?"

"Truly. But, again, we may be past the point of return. I'd hope not…" Arno sighed, "I know it's late, Lady Crownguard, but if you could accompany me? Perhaps we can determine the worth of mercy now, or at least start trying?"

If not for the conversation before hand, Lux might've been willing to delay the effort till tomorrow, or perhaps until her brother returned. But, surveying the gazes of her brother's men, she found expectation. She mentally vowed to meet it.

"Lead the way," Lux said.

Arno nodded and rose from his seat. As Lux did the same, the mageseeker asked the vanguard, "I know some of you are on break, but could you spare some of your number to escort us? We got two new prisoners this afternoon, and they haven't quite aclimatised to their cells."

Alas Morn rolled her eyes with a smile, "Fine. I've been keeping Lady Crownguard company long enough. One more night won't be a bother."

Cithria rose from her seat, "I can help as well."

Arno nodded, "Alright. Let's go."

---

Perhaps in the future, Lux mused, she'd look back at the scene before her and laugh; the scenery change was absurd enough to merit the reaction. But for now, said change was nerve-wracking. It was hard to think the inviting main hall of Aron's Defiance was a short stroll away from this dark, cold place, and yet here she was. Cold stone walls lit dimly by torchlight framed the corridors of the Mageseeker quarters of Aron's Defiance.

Some doors were simple and featureless, whilst others were framed with runesteel; clearly denoting the difference between plain offices and artefact containment. After leaving one of the plain doors - presumably Cadstone's office - Arno guided Lux, Cithria, and Alys down a staircase to a final checkpoint. Two tired soldiers leaned against the walls, keeping themselves standing with their spears. In between them was a final runesteel gate, which with a nod, they opened.

A pained wail punctuated their entrance into the dungeons; that of a man's. Arno cursed under his breath and sped to a room near the entrance with bars rusted from dried blood. Lux followed and could not contain a horrified gasp when she saw what lied within. Senior Adept Cadstone stood over a bruised man with shaggy, unclean hair. Said man had his head and one casted arm laid on a table for support. He groaned, and Lux could see why: the hand connected to the casted arm lay broken in all the wrong angles.

"Senior Adept!" Arno called.

"So you've arrived," Cadstone paid the newcomers no mind, "And friends... I hope you're as effective as your brother hoped, Lady Crownguard-"

"Stop what you're doing," Lux ordered, not even stopping when she realized the words that had come from her mouth, "This isn't right! You're torturing him."

"Its done well for my results before," Cadstone glanced at Lux with disdain when she pushed past him to approach the mage, "Not so far... but they all break eventually. Unless you have a different plan-"

"Get him a healer, for heaven's sake!" Cithria was the one who spoke, surprising Lux and the Mageseekers, "This isn't how we treat fellow Demacians!"

"He isn't a Demacian," Cadstone stated, "He's a mage. An enemy of the state."

"Be that as it may, this is needlessly cruel," Alys criticized with a displeased frown, "Go, Cithria."

Cithria nodded and bounded off, leaving Lux and Alys with the Mageseekers. Arno stood between his senior and the two women, exchanging anxious glances with both parties, whilst Lux and Alys looked to Cadstone with disdain. Cadstone simply gazed down at them.

"You believe showing them kindness will work?" Cadstone asked, not an emotion in his voice.

Lux made to speak, but grimaced, recalling the conversation she'd had during dinner. Thankfully, Alys held no reservation: perhaps because she had nothing to be ashamed of in context.

"It would surely be better than this," Alys said, "This... surely this goes against some law."

"I would not be doing so if it did," Cadstone said, "As captor of this criminal, I am only to ensure he does not expire on my leave. I do not believe one's fingers are needed for survival, especially when the arm attached is already broken."

"It's cruel!" Lux found her voice again, paused, and tried to be more convincing, "And wrong... and it won't go anywhere; he'll pass out from the pain before he speaks. He has no reason to tell you - someone he likely hates - anything you want him to."

"And you think offering him something will do the trick?" Cadstone scoffed, shrugged, handed Alys a set of keys, then made to leave through the door, "Perhaps you're right. I will be waiting outside. You may speak with this one or his two other compatriots. I will want a report even if you fail. Arno, with me."

Arno watched his mentor leave for a moment before sending an awkward glance to Lux, "Good luck."

With that, the younger mageseeker followed his superior. When the runesteel gate closed, Lux sighed and got to work, approaching the battered mage and sitting him more comfortably against his chair. He groaned in pain as Lux moved his cast arm to his chest, prompting a worried frown to spread on the Crownguard's face.

"Err... does that help?" Lux turned to Alys, "Is Cithria..."

"Not back yet; you'd have heard it," Alys crossed her arms with a troubled glance, "This treatment... it's barbaric. This is how Noxians treat enemies, not Demacians."

"And yet..."

The barely audible comment caught both of the women's attention. The mage, who'd had his eyes shut in pain prior, now had one cracked open with a bitter attempt at a smile. He chuckled.

"All my friends had their scars... and..." a chuckle turned to a coughing fit, "I'll get to show them soon... I hope..."

"We won't be able to do that," though Alys' voice was firm, traces of pity still remained in her expression, "You're our prisoner. You'll be treated as such."

"Heh... will that old bastard be coming back?"

The frown on Alys' face slowly lost its traces of mercy, being exchanged for irritation. Lux noticed and stepped in between them before the situation could escalate. Or rather, she sat, dragging a spare chair in the corner to the opposite side of table.

"Look, we don't want to fight you," Lux implored, "We want to help you. We'll get you a medic soon, and we can get you better conditions. But we need you to help us first."

The mage looked hopefully at Lux, and his sole open eye began to moisten. He turned his head away, seemingly in shame. Lux leaned closer, wondering if she imagined a tear falling down the man's cheek.

"I want to..." the man admitted.

"You can," Lux said, "Nothing is stopping you-"

"He was wrong about that," the mage laughed again, "At least..."

Alys stood to attention, "Who?"

"Sylas. He hates all of you, and I see why. But there is mercy in you..." the mage sighed, "But he's right in that a fight still needs to be fought... As much as I never wanted to..."

"Then why...?" Lux whispered, confused.

"As long as people like him are in power, I... we have to keep on fighting," the mage explained, "They're the true monsters. Surely after this, you can see that."

Alys scowled, turning away, "...People like Sylas are why they're needed-"

"People like him are why Sylas was needed!" the mage rebutted, "I've seen... you know this is wrong. What was done to me was wrong. Unjust. Why would you deny us justice?"

"Just is not what I'd use to describe Sylas," Lux closed her eyes to block the sight of the mage's disbelieving face. She instead focused on the horrors that most fateful day; the visions burned in her heart, "A man who slaughters hundreds of innocents... who manipulates others to fulfil his own twisted hate..."

"You're wrong," the mage stood straighter on his chair, "Sylas isn't-"

"Someone who kills a loving father and mocks a mourning son... someone like that can't be just!" Lux insisted, "I... I understand what you mean. But Sylas... what he's doing can't be the right way to solve these problems."

The mage seemed incredulous, "But then h-"

"She's right, you know."

The new voice made Lux and the mage stop their argument. Alys stepping out of the cell the interrogation was going on in and viewed the dungeon corridor. Lux followed, leaning past the runesteel gate of the cell and viewing the corridor. She saw in the final cell a woman's silhouette, leaning against the bars.

The mage growled, stood up, and tried to limp to the cell bars to rant at the woman. Alys stopped him from moving, but the mage still yelled.

"And you're any better, Aislynn?" he asked.

"Probably not: I'm here after all," the woman mused, "But at least I tried something better, instead of following a wrathful idiot. Unlike you, Happ."

At that moment, the gates to the dungeon as a whole opened. Cithria stepped forward, a white-robed soldier following her.

"I got the medic," the Vanguard prodigy said.

"See if you can do something about the mage's hand," Lux glanced from the medic to Cithria, "With me. We'll see the last two mages."

With a nod, Cithria was by Lux's side, and she and Alys followed her to the end of the corridor. As they neared the cell, Lux found more details on the cell's inhabitant. Or rather, inhabitants: as Cadstone had said, there were two mages kept in the final cell. The second mage was asleep in a corner of the cell, with wrappings around his left thigh and right arm, as well as around his torso. Lux figured she'd have to return to meet with him. As for the woman... short brown hair matted with dirt framed blue eyes that held the contained turbulence of a storming ocean's waves. Though she grinned, it seemed she wasn't pleased to see Lux. And... was that recognition in her eyes?

"I knew I recognised your voice," the woman - presumably Aislynn - smiled, "We saw each other during the Capitol riots. Do you remember? Just before Sylas escaped."

"I'm afraid I don't recall seeing you," Lux admitted, "You're Aislynn?"

"You heard my name," Aislynn nodded before turning her gaze away derisively, "And I know yours. So, why are you here, Luxanna Crownguard?"

"You seem smart, so I'll assume you can figure that out," Alys commented, arms crossed again with a menacing look in her eyes, "You were one of the captured mages in the prison?"

"Two months before the riot," Aislynn confirmed.

"Who did you kill?"

Aislynn seemed surprised by the question, then sighed, as if Alys had asked a stupid question. Even then, though, some guilt framed her form.

"Nobody; my magic isn't exactly combat oriented, so I stuck to the backline; organised the troops, so to speak. But I suppose that means any number of the dead could apply to me," Aislynn sighed, "And all for nothing, as it turned out."

In the silence that followed, the mere sound of Alys tightening her leather-gloved fists echoed. Sensing her escort's rage, Lux pressed on.

"You agreed with me that Sylas' methods are evil," the light mage noted, "But... you're not surrendering?"

"Sylas' evil does not excuse the Mageseekers' evil," Aislynn's gaze was tired, "I may not agree with how he's doing it, but I agree that something has to change in this society. But I doubt you're going to accommodate for little old me..."

Alys snickered bitterly, "You got that right-"

"Alys, please don't antagonise her," Lux turned again to Aislynn, "I... believe that the Mageseekers... as they are-"

"Of course you do," Aislynn chuckled, and Lux for a moment considered that Aislynn likely knew of her light magic. She barely held her sigh of relief when Aislynn didn't bring it up, "If you didn't think that, we'd not be talking."

"I want to make a change, but I couldn't hope to do that now," Lux continued, "With Sylas going on his rampage, I doubt even the king could do anything about it. Not that he would, but..."

"You can change that?" Aislynn scoffed, "You're not the queen. I've heard that might change, but unless you and the king are closer than I hear... Get real: nothing will happen that way. And even if it did, I doubt everyone would be content."

Cithria spoke up, "But we'd be saving you. Stopping the cruelest mageseekers-"

"I'm going to ignore that you just distinguished between mageseekers and cruel mageseekers; that's a mess on its own," Aislynn shook her head, "It may be a kingdom, but just changing the king won't solve the problem. If you can't figure that out, don't bother."

Lux frowned, "You said you were trying something. I'm afraid I don't quite see it."

"I can't try in here. All I can hope for is my work - my people - outside..." Aislynn sighed, "I can only hope they survive without me."

Cithria exchanged a glance with Lux, then spoke again, "That's not true. If you can help us-"

"You'll let me go? You'll change things? Have you heard a word I've said?" Aislynn sighed, then turned an eye to Lux, "Even if I were in the mood, I'm afraid I can't help you. In case you haven't figured out, I'm not with Sylas. I haven't a clue as to where the hell he is. But I'll say this: he isn't the only one you need to worry about."

Lux blinked, then asked, "Wait, what do you mean?"

Aislynn sighed and lied on the floor, back turned to Lux. She left her with a final parting shot before returning to silence.

"From what I hear? You should know more than anyone."

"What do you..."

The question died on Lux's tongue, and a bolt of fear lodged itself in her heart. Given what she knew, Lux could only determine one thing that Aislynn's statement could be referring to one thing; or rather, person. But...

"How do you know that?" the light mage asked.

Aislynn shifted slightly, perhaps considering answering but remained silent. Lux stepped forward, hands on fist, a follow-up threat on her lips. They never left, when the sight of the runes of the cell's bars lightly glowed. The soldiers behind her didn't notice, however, and she found no reason to ask any further. It wasn't like Aislynn was going anywhere, after all, and she'd learned much already.

"...let's go," Lux eventually said, "We're done here."

Alys and Cithria glanced at Lux with confusion.

The former spoke, "We're done?"

"She won't be saying anything else... but we have enough to report on," Lux began her walk to the dungeon entrance, "And it's not like she'll be going anywhere..."

With that, the soldiers shrugged, nodded and followed. Lux was idly aware of the medic following them out and trading remarks with Cithria, but the light mage's focus was elsewhere. Namely, the Mageseekers who waited outside the dungeon. Arno held a hopeful face, but Cadstone remained as serious as ever. Perhaps that would change now...

"Well?" Despite his stoic face, Cadstone's voice betrayed an assured arrogance, "Did mercy work to your favor?"

"It did, actually," Lux replied, "There's a lot to talk about. Firstly... well, firstly, the mage rebellion doesn't seem as organized or United as previously thought."

Arno hummed in thought, "We've heard reports hinting at such, but..."

So you knew, and didn't tell us? Or perhaps I just wasn't told?

"We don't have the full details on that, but I'd argue that isn't the main takeaway," Lux shook her head from those thoughts of deceit, "The second thing I learnt concerns the events at the capitol."

"The recent events, where you were attacked by a demonic invader?" Cadstone's tone and eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Yes..." Lux hesitated before putting her concerning discoveries to light, "I don't know the specifics, but it seems that Sylas isn't the only threat to be looking for in the north. That demon is somewhere here as well."

---

Author's Note: A bit of a late upload, but to make up for it here's my longest chapter yet at 15k. I suppose its natural, trying to summarise what's been happening with two characters over a period of time which Xander's had three (or eight, considering Lux). I'd originally planned to return to my 6k chapter days, splitting it into 3k for Lux and Aislynn. Naive, right?

I hope you've enjoyed my writing 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.

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