"You actually woke up earlier than me."

Cyrus met the Left Hand of Noxus's gaze with a smirk, content in flipping the script for once.

"The Eastern companies don't rise at sunrise?" The fire mage teased, "Maybe you aren't as elite as you thought."

Xander shrugged as he took his seat opposite the fire mage, the worn wood creaking under his weight, "Well... guess I got used to waking to sword clashes or whispered warnings..."

"What a terrible world you live in," Cyrus stated.

"Tis why I wanna change it…" Xander noted, gaze travelling the bar, "… shame our contact is a no show…"

Cyrus could only grunt in affirmation. A familiar irked expression spread across the fire mage's face as he did the same. Xander had seen it in the days after the siege at Aron's Defiance, but moreso after he'd presented Thorva with Rylai's Crystal Scepter. Cyrus had wanted to leave that day, as was the plan when Xander had presented the scepter, but they'd ended up taking two extra days with the tribe before actually going. Given how much Cyrus disliked the raiders, those two days to the fire mage, Xander suspected, must've felt like weeks.

Alas, it was all part of Sylas' plan. After consulting their map, they found that the tribe's route would get them within a day's travel of the village of Snowset. When the revolutionary was setting up for the future, Sylas had apparently assigned sets of five spies to different regions of Demacia. The spies would rotate around the region between various villages and cities – for the north, one of those villages was Snowset. Given that a meet-up with whatever spy was present would provide bountiful information, not to mention a quick beeline to wherever Sylas' revolutionaries were hiding, Xander believed it was a sound plan…

If it wasn't for the fact that they'd stayed a whole day now and still hadn't met with the spy, Xander's belief would've held.

"Happ's still asleep?" Cyrus asked.

"Yeah… guess my heal-job didn't work perfectly. Well, he'd have needed the rest regardless. Did you order breakfast?"

"Three loaves, one for each of us," Cyrus answered, "I only got myself coffee, though, so you'll have to order your own drinks. I suppose we can do that when we get food for the others?"

"I'm sure Happ will take that opportuniy gladly," Xander mused, "But I'll be fine with water."

"You don't drink coffee?" Cyrus squinted, confused, "Jeez… and your, ahem, friends?"

"Just me."

Cyrus looked at Xander briefly before chuckling, "Targon's Peak… you're actually insane."

Xander smiled mildly, "Well, you already knew that."

"Quite…" Cyrus' frowned returned for a brief moment as he glanced around, "Tch. He's dead, isn't he?"

"Our contact?" Xander rolled his eyes, unconcerned with watchful eyes and ears; there weren't any, "Yeah, probably. What about it?"

Cyrus frowned at the Left Hand's matter-of-fact statement, but continued, "Whoever or whatever... passed them by... it's risky to be here, no?"

"As risky as on the road, or in the forests," Xander shrugged, sipping from the waterskin he kept in his coat, "Honestly, staying here for a bit longer isn't as bad an idea as you'd think."

"Really now?"

"Well, maybe it's the sunk cost fallacy, but I came here looking for information, and I won't leave until i get it," Xander admitted, "But it shouldn't be too hard. We could, of course, ask around. Maybe something did happen. Or maybe it didn't. We could also look around. Maybe there's a body in the woods, or something. Signs of a fight, encampments of our missing spy, so on and so forth."

"... I don't really know what the sunk cost fallacy is, but I'll assume you're right there," Cyrus deadpanned, "So we're staying?"

"At least the day," Xander assured, "I'm sure if there's something to be found, it can be found by nightfall."

"I'll hold you to that..." Cyrus glanced around before asking, "You think the others are fine?"

"We only split when Sylas saw a cave in the distance, and I trust Erret to be able to scavenge what they'd need from the area. That doesn't even regard that we packed rations. In that sense, they're more than fine," Xander replied, "And they haven't been caught: we'd have heard by now."

Cyrus' frown deepened for a moment, "… Would we? Would they?"

"I get Vayne thrashed you and Aislynn, but she caught you off guard," the Left Hand pointed out, "Now we know to look out for her, and even off guard I doubt it'd be enough. Sylas, for all his flaws, is a tough badass, and Erret's more skilled than I am … yeah, they'll be fine."

"… He's better than you?" Cyrus raised his eyebrows, "I thought N… I thought you easterners valued strength… why's a stronger person under a weaker one?"

"Strength's a broad spectrum. Erret's only better than me with swords… and maybe hand-to-hand… meanwhile, I've got him beat in social manoeuvring, his girlfriend and I are largely carrying him on our backs politically, I'm a ma… well, obviously… do I need to go on?" Xander chuckled, "… You were listening to me when I was speaking back at Meltridge, huh?"

"You aren't the first to babble on about strength and worth to me," Cyrus muttered with disdain, "Some of... those bastards tried to convince me back then... but I stayed loyal to my kingdom."

Xander sighed, took a swig from his waterskin, then replied, "If only your kingdom was loyal to you, then we wouldn't be here."

Cyrus frowned, but before he could continue, his breakfast arrived. A maid carried a plate of bread in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other, laying both on the table with a smile. Cyrus paid with gold given by Xander the previous night; all Cyrus really gave was a thank-you and a sincere smile.

It seemed to be enough, though; the young maid stuck around.

"Are you a soldier?" the maid asked.

"Err… maybe," Cyrus was clearly caught off guard by the question, "How could you tell?"

Cyrus' counter was something on that Xander held on the tip of his own tongue. The fire mage had forgone the armor looted from Aron's Defiance prior to entering town. Whilst he did bring a sword with him to town, said sword was back in their room. Of course, the maid could've noticed last night, though given that that Xander had dealt with the maid's father…

"Your friend's coat looks to be standard military wear," The maid answered, "And you yourself… I haven't seen many myself, but I could swear that your clothes are standard off-duty military wear as well."

Xander blinked, thinking, Ah. That's how. Sharp one, this maid…

Cyrus blinked as well before following up, "… and you've seen this when?"

"Every now and then… most recent one was when the prince went to the Argent Mountains. A few men from Fossbarrow headed for High Silvermere for assignment," the maid recalled, "Every now and then patrols pass by here as well… my pa used to give them a discount; he served during the Noxian invasions."

"Not anymore?" Xander asked, "Damn shame…"

"Shame indeed. Well you're right," Cyrus proceeded with the script Xander had drafted the day before, "We were recruits for the Argent Mountain campaign as well, actually. We finished our service during the campaign and went back home to work the farms… but with the whole mage rebellion going on, we decided we'd go and re-enlist."

"I see… how unfortunate. You missed the last patrol; they left last afternoon. I'm sure they'd have loved to bring you along," the maid sighed, then chuckled, "One of them might've even recognised you… do you remember a man named Tedrick?"

Sounds familiar enough…

"Tedrick? I think so," Xander mused, "Wasn't he that lanky fellow who complained we were abandoning the army, even though the Sarge told the shield in advance a week previous?"

Cyrus' eyes were glazed in deadpan fashion, but after an eye roll he converted to a convincing pondering look to the ceiling, "Maybe? I think that was Edwyn; Tedrick was only appeared lanky because he was tall as hell. Or was it the other way around?"

The maid chuckled, "Maybe it was for the best you didn't meet; I think Tedrick would've been very offended by being forgotten."

Xander shrugged, "… so it was the lanky dude."

The maid's laugh heightened for a moment.

"Aren't you witty," she complimented, before dragging another seat to the table, "May I?"

Xander glanced around, "Aren't you busy with…"

"The nonexistent other patrons?" the maid finished, noting the empty tavern bar, "Travellers as of recent are rare around here… I'm interested other people lives…"

Xander interrupted the justification with a warning, "Some folk don't like nosy people... Lucky for you, I'm one of those nosy people myself. So how about this; ask away, and we'll answer, then you do the same?"

"Sure," the maid nodded with an amused smirk, "Well, what do you want to know about Snowset?"

Cyrus sent Xander a curious raised eyebrow; it seemed to Xander that the fire mage had caught on. Perhaps a familiar scheming look was in his eye, Xander thought. An opportunity to get intel had presented itself, so…

"I suppose we can start with basic daily life," Xander shrugged, not wanting to rush or appear desperate for information, "I've found it interesting to compare life between towns, cities, so on…"

The maid hummed in thought for a moment, "Well… most of the town wakes at sunrise, maybe a bit earlier, then works the rest of the day, stopping for meals. Each family is different, but they send one of their members to the town center to trade goods. Lunch is the most busy part of the day because of that… dinner's second most busy time, and when we usually get the most travelers… but that's surely the same in any other place in the kingdom though, right? How different can it be?"

"Quite a bit, in truth," Xander mused, "For one, in the south the days, I've found, are longer. If my clock's right, it's about 3'o'clock, hour til sunrise? In Jandelle, where I grew up, sunrise's closer to 6'o'clock."

A befuddled look spread on the maid's face, "Truly?"

"7'o'clock in Vakasia, where I was born," Cyrus added, "Generally the further south you go the longer the days and warmer the weather. That, I imagine, changes things. Like plants; I imagine people eat a lot of potatoes up here?"

"I suppose," the maid nodded, "We mostly care more for our meats than the potatoes and grain. Guess we take it for granted… what do they grow in Jandelle and Vakasia?"

"Jandelle has a few fields for grains, but mostly? We're more of a trade town. Move things to and fro…" Xander recalled, "And, of course, there's the Golden Round, that brings visitors and would-be poets to town."

"As for Vakasia… it's a coastal town real down south," Cyrus spoke of his own home with a considered bitterness, "We didn't grow anything there: the coastlines were too salty, and most of the other space is for the timber. Lots of fish, though… really, too much fish. Most streets smelled terrible."

"Did you swim a lot?" The maid asked, "We never could up here, with most of the water being frozen…"

"I can imagine. I swam a bit, here and there," Cyrus answered with a small smile that faded quickly. "There were some small lakes and rivers to swim in, but free-swimming in the ocean was forbidden… apparently some noble's kid got eaten by a shark a decade before I was born, so…"

"That's terrible," the maid whispered, "But… yeah. I suppose that's worse…"

"Than?" Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

"We have bears in the woods," the maid explains, "They don't come to town – the guard patrols make sure of that. But sometimes kids being kids play in the woods, and some don't come back…"

Xander blinked amidst the silence that followed the maid's recounting, then took a swig of water, "Well… that was a great opening topic…"

A melancholy glint filled the maid's eyes, "Sorry… maybe we can move to another topic? Is there anything else you want to know?"

"I suppose we could talk about the people in our corners of the kingdom," Xander considered, "Cyrus, would you like to start?"

"I suppose we can get Vakasia out of the way. From the places I've seen, Vakasia's average. Some good folk, some not," Cyrus shrugged, "If anything's interesting, I'd say we've quite a military history. Chopping trees and carrying logs makes strong men, I suppose. Good place to be otherwise."

The maid nodded then began her own explanation, "I'd assume that compared to Vakasia, Snowset's the same. With the strong men and good folk, I mean. It is cold up here, which makes it hard to survive. Since we do, I guess we're pretty tough, right?"

"That's generally how it works," Xander snarked, "So, lots of friends and family in the military as well?"

"Actually, no," the maid replied, "If times are good, some people can go. And of course, we can't ignore royal enlistment decrees. But up here, we all have to work together. We share bread with those who have poor harvest, hunt and share pelts… my pa and the few traders we have need to be really good, or we might not have enough drywood for hearths, or wool for coats. The crown sends help in the worst winters, but only then. Most of the time we have to make it out on our own work..."

A melancholy mood spread on the maid's face as she continued, "There's little time or space for fighting each other. Opinions and arguments have to be finished quickly and peacefully, or we'd have one less worker for the winter. There's always a job to be done, or someone in need..."

The Left Hand closely watched the maid's face as she spoke. Much of what she was saying Xander had already assumed. But, noting the maid's smile wavering slightly as she mentioned conflicts with others... perhaps there was something there?

"My most loyal friends claimed origin from the north," Xander noted, "It's a small number, but I suspect you're among the best people the kingdom..."

"Are there worse people in the kingdom?" The maid asked, a look of curious amusement on her face.

"Well, relatively..." Xander nodded, "I suppose it's my turn… Jandelle's a pretty swell place. A bit like the Great City, but with more extremes-"

"You've been to the Great City?" The maid interjected, wonder in her eyes.

"I was born there, spent my early childhood there. Moved out at around ten years old," Xander answered, partially truthful, "Anyways, the Great City, for context, is a lively place. No crops are grown in those stone streets, so people aren't just out working in large expanses for hours on end. Instead, it's a mess of traders and artisans. Meal hours only exist, I think, because the artisans and workers were born elsewhere. There are patrols and soldier recruits strolling around on the hour, nobles on carriages or horses move to and fro… never a dull moment in the Great City."

The Maid gave a noise of awe, listening attentively before asking, "And how's Jandelle different?"

"Well… it's not as developed, so there are some fields and parks where reprieve can be found," Xander explained, "The trade off is that the urban areas are busier, and more competitive. And, well… I've heard it said that the first time a person learns to act is when they first try to lie to someone. That in mind... Jandelle is the home of Demacia's greatest hub of actors."

"They're dishonest people?" The maid seemed horrified at the idea.

"Again, relatively," Xander shrugged, "They're definitely snarkier. Basically, where in other cities you can give money to the poor without concern, you have to think about it in Jandelle. Sure the guy begging might look poor, but he might actually have enough to get by, and is only practising his acting skills; lots of extra roles in plays are peasants playing second fiddle to the heroes. But, they are still Demacians, so they'll at least apologise to you if they get caught. Hell, they'll apologize so hard that the person they stole from will give them the money anyway!"

"What an… odd place," the maid chose her words with seeming care as a bittersweet look spread on her face, "I'd heard many stories from other travelers, but none quite like that..."

The Left Hand noted the look on the maid's face, "Sorry to be a downer. If it makes you feel better... I know I make it out to be terrible, but that's only because everywhere else is so damn peaceful... and, frankly, boring..."

"Why'd you go up north, then?" The maid asked.

Xander fought a wince; something made difficult when he saw Cyrus struggle much harder to keep his emotions in check. It still leaked out with the slightest tension showing in his facial muscles. Xander answered the mage, hoping to buy the fire mage time.

"Well... live in ice long enough and you'll want to try melting. Live in the fire long enough and you'll want to try chilling," Xander shrugged, "I wanted a break from that side. Protector knows it's been good for my face; my mouth often got me in trouble, heh... also, this guy needed help, so why not offer it?"

Cyrus blinked for a moment, then caught on the prompt Xander gave and went with it.

"My... grandparents lived at Fossbarrow," the fire mage lied, "They were having financial problems, you see. My parents were busy keeping their business afloat down south, but they could send me up north to help, not to mention bring some extra gold to fund their retirement. It worked out in the end, and I was happy helping around town. But, time's changed, obviously."

"Right… I heard mages caused some trouble up there," The maid recalled, seemingly unaware of the lies she'd been fed, "I... wasn't aware the rebels got this far this quickly… What happened there?"

"Hell if I know," Xander interjected, noting the pause before mention of rebels, "For about two weeks nobody in town could sleep well. Shared nightmares that came out of nowhere… some guy went crazy and killed his friends and family then…"

"I heard the same," the maid mentioned, "But the Crownguards came, right?"

"They were there for the execution," Xander nodded, "After that, one more night of nightmares, then nothing. The Crownguards then left. I imagine they passed by here?"

"That they did," an old voice answered.

The maid was the most surprised at the voice, turning to meet its source with a frantic calming tone.

"F-father! I wasn't aware you were… up."

"Old soldier habits," the old man replied, "But, good on you for actually waking before me for once. Now, you haven't been bothering these men, have you?"

"No, your daughter's been fine," Xander assured.

The old man sent him a glare, "And you haven't been bothering my daughter, have you?"

Xander squinted for a moment before his peripheral vision caught sight of a rapidly reddening face. A retort from the maid was caught by embarrassed stuttering, so the Left Hand of Noxus interjected with an eye roll.

"No, sir, I'm no lecher," Xander sighed, "What would make you think that?"

The old man paused for a moment before chuckling, "I really didn't. But can you blame a father for thinking so?"

Without blinking, Cyrus countered, "Don't be so trusting. He's irredeemable in other ways."

"Most people are," the old man mused, "So, what are you two and my daughter speaking of?"

"Comparing the people and livelhoods of different people around the kingdom," Xander answered, "In summary, Vakasia in the south's filled with strong lumberjacks or soldiers, Jandelle's filled with actors who could convince you of anything if they tried hard enough, the Great City doesn't know the meaning of rest, and Snowset's a tight-knit community that works together to survive winter."

"Colder climates, I've found, make people loyal," the old man noted, "Everyone in town's close friends, and if you can help out they'll accept you as easy."

"You speak from experience?" Cyrus assumed.

The old man nodded, "I was born in High Silvermere. Moved here to marry, can't say I regret it."

"Your daughter mentioned you were a soldier," Xander recalled, "How was service there?"

"What's there to say? It's same old, same old," the old man shrugged, "Train, fight, do as your told, get your pay. If you're lucky, get promoted, move on and repeat. If there's a new recruit, pray to the Veiled One that he isn't up his own ass… but it was High Silvermere, so you can imagine that half the time they were."

"Would-be Silverwing Calvalry?" Cyrus guessed, the beginnings of a smile on his face.

"That, or some nobleman's kid who thinks being born out his rich ma's ass makes him Targon's divine gift to the army," the old man sighed, "They're… just the worst…"

"Have to fix them up in a hurry, else their stupidity stays until the live action," Cyrus noted.

"Aye, and wasn't that a damn near impossible task," the old man replied.

"Well, we're all Demacians still, right?" the maid assumed, "Can't be too different."

"If it were so, the mage rebels wouldn't be causing trouble," Xander sighed, focusing on his drink.

The Left Hand's gaze didn't meet the maid's, instead falling on Cyrus' cup. The fire mage hadn't drank much of his beverage, allowing Xander to still make out details from the drink's reflection. He saw a glare intensify in Cyrus' eyes, but the maid's eyes remained pensive, pulled down in thought.

"That's… so sad," the maid mumbled, "Surely we could just work together?"

"Well, they broke the law," Xander shrugged, "And if there's anything certain about Demacia, it takes laws very seriously."

"Hmm…" the old man paused, brows furrowing, "That what you really think?"

"Well… Jandelle's close to the Great City, so noble talk of laws is rather ingrained in my head…" Xander chuckled, "… but I suppose there's another reason I left Jandelle…"

Cyrus frowned, "Xander…"

The old man ignored the fire mage's warning; or maybe he didn't, logging it mentally before asking Xander, "What reason would that be?"

Xander met the old man's gaze for a moment before chuckling, "Your daughter is right. We could just work together. But, we aren't. And that's a tragedy, don't you think?"

"If it is, we can't really do anything," the old man answered, "As you said, it is the law."

Xander smirked and repeated, "That what you really think?"

To the Left Hand's side, Xander saw a flicker of orange in Cyrus' eyes, accompanied by pale skin. The maid gulped, anxiety clear in her disposition. Xander didn't care, eyes on the old man, watching for a reaction. There was something hard as steel in the old soldier's eyes; not the reaction Xander was hoping for. But, this far in…

Xander explained, "When we came to town, I noticed the fields were barren… maybe recently harvested, but not many sacks of food around… I also noticed when we three booked our room last night, you had the exact same glare on you that you do now… glaring at three supposed soldiers. Why's that?"

"I think you already know," the old man answered.

"Really? Really…" Xander chuckled, then laughed sincerely, "Well, I don't suppose we can ask for a discount?"

"A discount?" the old man seemed insulted.

Xander met Cyrus' look with a smile, "We're among friends, no need to flare up. Or do; it's as good proof as anything else."

The old man's cold glare melted in realisation, "Wait… you're-"

"Lucky survivors, shall we say," Cyrus answered, "For the record fighting wouldn't have been my main choice. But, here I am…"

"So all that talk of being soldiers was a lie?" the maid asked.

"For our man upstairs, sure," Xander admitted, "But Cyrus and I? Ex-military."

"And they sold you out to the mageseekers when your powers manifested?" the old man assumed, "…I can't imagine how that felt. When I heard about the rebellion in the capital, I didn't realize ex-soldiers were in the rebellion. But, it makes so much sense…"

"Your sympathies are appreciated," Cyrus said, "It's good to know some people don't want us dead."

"I can't imagine how it feels to be on the run," the maid mumbled.

"If you wish, you won't need to imagine. Talking about that sort of thing can be quite relieving on our end," Xander noted, "But, if I may, I'm more interested in something else: information. We were told a spy was sent here, to monitor patrols. I don't suppose you've heard anything about that?"

The old man glanced to his daughter with a question in his eyes. Before the answer was given – the answer Xander expected – the Left Hand looked to his peer.

Xander smirked, "Told you I'd get my info."

"You're up and working already? Really?"

Were it any other muscle-bound military man, Lux wouldn't dare be so loud and obstinate. Even with her magic, there was little benefit to threatening someone who could crack her skull like a nut. Alas, things were naturally different with her brother. Perhaps it was years of wielding the elders' authority whenever Garen and the rest would mess around, or maybe it was simple recognition that Lux was in the right. Regardless, the captain of the Dauntless Vanguard was cowed into awkward chuckles before his sister.

"Lux..." he began.

"No! The doctors were very clear: you were released from the ward and allowed to attend to your administrative duties, but you were not allowed physical labour," Lux recalled, "So why is it I see you helping with repairs to the northern walls; walls which, by the way, are filled with loose bricks, one of which landed you in the ward in the first place?"

Garen rubbed the back of his head with an anxious grin, "I... I was restless?"

"Well, at least you're honest," Alys Morn commented from behind Lux. The Dauntless Vanguard nudged Lux gently with her elbow, "It's sweet you care, but your brother can take it. This doesn't even break the top thirty worst things he's done..."

Lux grimaced at the implication, one such action surfacing to her mind's eye, "Oh, I'm well aware. But just because he's done worse doesn't mean he should continue. He isn't invincible."

"It's not like I'm rushing into an armed mage revolt, Lux," Garen argued, "I'm just helping the men with the reconstruction!"

"Yes, the reconstruction of the wall, which I mentioned, broke and landed you in the hospital!"

A soldier standing atop the ruined wall cleared his throat, catching the Crownguard's attention.

"Ahem... If I may, Lady Crownguard... the Captain hasn't actually started physical labor yet," he said, "He's only given moral support so far, which is a common action taken by of recently wounded officers."

Garen looked to Lux expectedly, as if that statement solved all the issues she'd presented. Never mind Lux also recalled doctor's orders included remaining indoors, never mind away from hazardous elements...

Another soldier spoke up, this time throwing Garen under the metaphorical stampede.

"Captain Garen was asking if help was needed, however," she noted, "I think he would've helped if you hadn't arrived."

"Private!" If Garen weren't the one breaking protocol, the captain's warning tone would've been intimidating. As it was now, Garen's complaint only prompted chuckles from his fellow officers.

Alys Morn strolled along to tug Garen's along, "Come on, boss. We've got updates from the capital."

That caught Garen's attention, and the rest of the stroll through Aron's Defiance was done without complaint. Still, Lux took care with each step. Cleanup of the fortress, though almost finished, still had work to do. Only the eastern courtyard was completely fixed up andit wasn't as if Nocturne had destroyed much on his way out. The northern gate was at least relatively fixed up: they'd at least be able to fire a few arrow barrages if the tribe came back to finish what they started. The northern walls that framed the corridors Lux and Garen traveled through were better, but not in tip-top condition. The walls used to be mistakeable for fused material. Now, dust and stone broke from the visible gaps between bricks.

There was, of course, the constant threat of the mageseekers as well. In the wake of their fortress' siege, the blue-cloaked masked men patrolled the corridors, graymarks on hand with every waking moment. If not for the petricite potions Lux had brewed before leaving the capital to mask her magic, she probably would've been caught. If they didn't leave soon, Lux figured that risk might still persist.

Despite the risks on the way, the party reached their destination. As a forward-operating base of for a potential northern front, Aron's Defiance held a war room meant for the conducting of military campaigns. Large walls with hanging posts could allow for analysis of trends and inventories, whilst a map of the local region at the room's center could allow for planning of troop movements. If the northern raids worsened, Lux imagined the generals of the kingdom would stand where she now did. As it was now, however, Aron's Defiance's war room was a glorified officer's lounge. The only reason they didn't start their meeting outside was in case Nocturne stuck around; whilst the demon could be anywhere, the core of the fortress was an unlikely place for it to hide in, not to mention avoid.

Could Nocturne be present anyway? Lux hoped not, and that was all they could really do.

Thankfully, as they passed through the war room's door, a shadowy figure wasn't who lay beyond. Instead, Sergeant Merrek's teasing salute greeted the late party, accompanied by the other officers of the Dauntless Vanguard.

"Welcome back," Merrek greeted, "Where'd you find the captain?"

"He was at the wall, giving 'moral support'," Alys Morn recalled, a snarky smile on her face.

"Not very responsible," Reika Kol chided, eyes then falling to Lux, "But from what I've heard, you probably gave him enough hell for that."

"Since he's still being reckless after serving with you lot, I had to be insistent," Lux shrugged.

Merrek chuckled, "Since childhood he's been like this? Ah, well, enough talk. Let's get this brefing over with, before I lose all respect for your brother."

"Yes, lets," Garen rolled his eyes, taking a seat around the map table, "Now, what's the update?"

The other officers took their places around the table as Sergeant Merrek began the breifing.

"Four scrolls. One from High Silvermere, three from the capital," Merrek said, laying out two on the map table, "The one from High Silveremere and the first from the capital are general military orders. The other two from the capital are from the High Marshall; one is for your eyes only."

Merrek handed Garen the specified scroll before continuing, "Now, to start with the general orders… As of writing, the capital's sent an engineer shield our way, as well as a shield of re-enlistees. High Silveremere's sending another shield as well, but they're recruits from academy."

"So three shields only…" Garen frowned as he looked to Aron's Defiance's head military officer, "I don't think that's enough. If you'd like, I could assign you an extra Dauntless shield."

Lux hadn't interacted much with Captain Uther, but he looked the part of his assigned role. A long, well kept beard belied his northern heritage, and the gruff, experenced look to his face only reinforced the light mage's belief in the captain's worth.

"I'd be happy to accept their aid," Uther answered, hand stroking his beard in pensive thought, "But, I suspect the Dauntless will be needed elsewhere. Gods know these barbarians aren't the only threats to the kingdom, and despite the siege I somehow fear those mage rebels more. We can discuss it further when the reinforcements come by; maybe those re-enlistees were real steel; maybe those recruits aren't as green as I fear."

"Hopefully…" Garen slowly nodded, "Alright then. Merrek, what else?"

"What else… the Dragonguard found Jeyne Spiritmight, and after a short skirmish against some mages, returned her to the King," Merrek read from the order scroll, "Troops will still be sent south to prevent more attacks on the nobles, but with that threat settled, I'd expect the King to turn his attention north to helping us."

"Perhaps lead an army to deal with the raiding threat?" Uther pondered.

"Possible, but we still don't know the full scale of the threat," Garen answered, "I suspect Jarvan will return to the capital and maintain focus on the mage rebellion, but he will have someone supporting us up north. My father should be able to lead a force from High Silvermere, for one…"

"Perhaps you and Lady Crownguard can make a personal appeal," Merrek noted, taking out another scroll, "The High Marshall's orders are for the Dauntless Vanguard to regroup at High Silvermere. There, we'll be reinforced with the other shields and given orders according to the next report from the ranger-knights. So, could be back south, could be staying up north."

Merrek's gaze met Lux's, "Until then, however, you're the priority. Of course, it goes without saying that we need to protect civilians, but I imagine your aunt's particularly concerned given… well, everything I suppose."

"Quite…" Lux shrugged, "Sorry to be a burden, I guess?"

"We can take it, not to worry," Merrek assured, before glancing back to Garen, "Now, Captain, that's everything from the scrolls I could read. Do you want to open up your scroll now, or is that too confidential?"

Garen shrugged, "You'd probably hear about it later anyway."

With a snap, Garen broke open the seal to his letter and opened it up. His eyes followed the written lines on the other side of the parchment, the silence he left in his wake filling his audience with anticipation. Lux couldn't help but frown at Garen's sudden brow furrowing, concern building in her. Tianna writing separate scrolls, she imagined, meant the High Marshall had secrets for Garen alone. It could just be standard military doctrine, but the more paranoid part of Lux's mind considered the idea that she might be the topic in question. But Garen wouldn't rat her out, so surely there was nothing to worry about, right?

He didn't, of course, but the words that left his mouth were near equally unnerving.

"To start... as we suspected, a task force is being sent up here to deal with the increase in Freljordian raiders. Whilst not all roles have been assigned officers yet, three things are confirmed. This task force will be a joint Mageseeker-Army group, and at its head will be Lord Eldred for the seekers and Lord Xin Zhao for the army."

At the mention of her uncle-in-law, Lux's breath hitched. Just days ago she'd left the capital in part to get away from him and the other mageseekers, and now it seemed it was all for nothing...

Not necessarily... Lux quickly calmed herself withslow breaths, I've kept my secret this long...

Lux then met her brother's gaze. Garen didn't maintain eye contact long, perhaps not to look suspicious, but he glanced to the scroll before elaborating about the current troop deployments of the task force. That told Lux all she needed to know.

Aunt Tianna wouldn't have let that happen without sending a warning. It's probably why she bothered to send a separate letter... Lux's mind raced to a conclusion, She probably has a plan for me... I'll need to talk to Garen privately after this and see that scroll.

As Lux finalized her plan, the meeting continued around her. The officer's reception to the plan seemed relatively positive, but not to a problematic extent. Nobody was excited to work with the Mageseekers, nor were they upset about it... which made sense, but some part of Lux hoped Alys Morn at least would've reacted negatively to the news; she had seen what constituted Mageseeker protocol and had been appalled by it...

"... it's a good plan," Merrek noted, "Have the Seneschal in the north and the High Marshall in the south... don't know about mageseeker distribution, but I suppose everything has been pointing up here..."

"Well, not everything... did the mages who captured Sergeant Spiritmight get away?" Alys Morn asked, "Either way, there's got to be some mages still south..."

"The specific party that tried to capture Jeyne was apprehended by the King; they should be back in prison now..." Garen hummed, "Though... that was another thing the High Marshall noted. Apparently, the mages weren't the ones who initially captured Lady Spiritmight."

Eyebrows were raised and sounds of surprise were made. Lux herself found herself intrigued at the briefing again.

"If not the mages, who did?" Reika Kol asked.

"If it wasn't the mages, why note it down at all?" Alys Morn further questioned.

Garen glanced back to the scroll, double checking before replying, "According to Sergeant Spiritmight's testimony, a Noxian spy captured her."

A grim silence filled the room briefly, only to be broken by Merrek, "Well, shit. So, I take it this is related to the demon that's been haunting us?"

"In a sense, though it isn't at all a hopeless situation," Garen noted, "Considering the Sergeant's ties to the royal family and the Mageseekers, the Noxian spy wanted information on the demon. Since Jeyne couldn't give any info that wasn't already public, she was released... something suspicious enough that at time of writing the High Marshall's kept her under house arrest."

"Suspicious is a bunch of shipments going missing or workers traveling without permit," Merrek said, "Noxians don't take prisoners, never mind letting them leave."

"When the Dragonguard found her, Jeyne apparently was scuffed up, wounds apparently suffered from being in the wild for so long," Garen noted, "The only reason she said she was let go was because she didn't believe the spy was fooled... she apparently volunteered for the house arrest, which is a whole incident on its own... but the important thing the High Marshall noted was that the Noxian spy, whoever they are, didn't know about the demon attack at the capital.

"... meaning the demon isn't Noxian," Merrek concluded after a pause, "Hmm... then the north just might be the centre of attention for the rebellion. Guess we'll be seeing each other."

Uther chuckled, "I suppose that's good. Shame it comes with all the monsters of hell coming our way as as a trade off."

"Anything else in the letter, Captain?" Alys asked.

Garen glanced to the scroll one more time then shook his head, "That's all... unless anyone else has something to report?"

The officers gathered shook their heads and voiced negation. With that, Garen looked to Lux, then to the other side of the room, then stood up.

"Alright then, meeting adjourned," the Captain of the Dauntless Vanguard stated, "If any more reports come in, send for me and I'll be here."

"Where are you going?" Reika Kol asked, brows furrowed in amused curiosity.

Garen spoke, "I'm-"

Lux finished, "He's going to his quarters... or maybe the office sector. What were you going to say?"

"Uh- er-" amidst his contemporaries' chuckles, Garen gave a tired, slightly irritated frown before answering, "Quarters. I think I'll have a nap."

"If I'd known you would've kept your brother in check, I'd have had you enlisted years ago," Merrek jested.

"I'll trust you'll keep the Captain from hurting himself," Alys commented, a restrained smirk on her face.

"Of course," Lux guided Garen along by his arm guards, "I'll see you all for dinner."

The two Crownguards left the office quickly; Lux wasn't so cruel as to prolong Garen's humiliation. Even with that, the elder Crownguard sibling lasted only a fifteen seconds before pulling away and sending a glare at Lux. Aware of her safety, the light mage only sent a mischievous smile highlighted three with shining wide eyes.

Garen's anger faded, but his irritation remained, "Do you have to keep outing me like that?"

"Follow doctor's orders for once and I won't have to," Lux replied as they rose a set of stairs to the castle's private quarters, "So... what else's in the letter?"

Garen glanced around, and, even though nobody else was present, insisted, "In my quarters."

Lux rolled her eyes as they entered through the ornate petricite wood doors of Garen's quarters. The dead wood gave her no mind with her powers already taken. Garen put Tianna's scroll on his bedside desk with a sigh before explaining.

"Well... Aunt Tianna couldn't do anything," Garen started, "Lord Eldred had made up his mind when he got the report of the attack, and Jarvan had yet to return, not that I think he'd have disagreed; it does make sense..."

"But wha about our situation?" Lux refocused the discussion, "I was supposed to avoid Lord Eldred, and now he's coming to me."

"Tianna doesn't really have anything to say..." Garen sighed, "She did mention that Lord Eldred will be busy, travelling between Aron's Defiance, High Silvermere, and all the other Mageseeker compounds in the North. But other than that... "

"Hide and hope it works out... I was hoping for more," Lux sulked in the room's corner, silent for a moment before recalling, "So the demon is working for Sylas."

"It looks that way... though in hindsight I think it was obvious," Garen mused, "Lord Eldred must've been the main target at the time, with trying to get you back to the rebellion being a secondary objective... the demon host must've stolen Noxian armor from some battlefield, or an armoury; used it in tandem with his friends as a red herring..."

"That assumes they are, in fact, not Noxian..." Lux sighed, mind blocking out all else as she thought.

The circumstances around Jayne Spiritmight's freedom were far too suspicious. If a Noxian spy had kidnapped someone, surely they would've left a bloody mess before hand? And as for the target, Jeyne Spiritmight was a perfect bait for Jarvan... yet he still lived. Was his life currently in danger? As Merrek noted, Noxians simply didn't let prisoners leave... perhaps Jeyne was going to kill her cousin? But why? Perhaps it was an attempt at a coup, using her ties as a Spiritmight to legitimise taking the crown? Lux tried to recall Jeyne's character from the last time they spoke... As a lady of the royal court, they'd met a few times, discussed politics had that largely flown over Lux's head at the time... Perhaps this was the plan the whole time?

It couldn't have been. Jarvan's cousin had joined the military, and if there was anywhere farther away from becoming a turncoat...

Damn it, this doesn't make sense!

Military enlistment put a hamper on the possibility of Jeyne being a Noxian turncoat, yet her captor letting her go just didn't seem right either. Lux growled. There had to be something there was missing...

Or maybe she was letting her biases get in the way of the truth: the cause she would've given everything to had gone down the road of good intentions all the way to hell.

"Lux..." Garen called his sister back to reality and met her with a gaze attempting by reassurance, "I... I won't pretend that to know what you saw in Sylas... but you have to realize whatever you saw doesn't exist anymore. He's-"

"Committed to being a monster; he's the enemy. I know," Lux sighed, "It's just... Sylas isn't the demon host. Someone else is..."

"He isn't the only monster in the rebellion," Garen understood where Lux was going, "Something that would make reconciling with the rebels hard..."

Garen blinked, "Wait, is that it? Was that your plan?"

"I didn't really have a plan, but... yeah," Lux admitted, "I mean... I'm not joining Sylas, but I'm still a mage. I don't agree with how they're doing things, but I can't ignore my fellow mages' plight. I have to help them somehow."

"... I know," The elder Demacian seemed to flinch at the reminder of his sister's powers, but settled back down quickly. Garen sighed, disturbed for another reason, "But... Lux, you have to realize: the mages out there now... those rebelling with Sylas... they probably can't be saved."

"What?" Lux all but glared at her brother, "How could you say that?"

An exasperated, pleading look came from Garen as he argued, "How? Lux, they have blood on their hands."

"Yes. Their blood, coughed out their throats," Lux crossed her arms, "They were being poisoned, maltreated... Garen, I'm sure Alys told you about what we saw in the dungeons; the Mageseekers were torturing them."

"Yes, but that doesn't justify that Sylas massacred civilians and that his men slaughtered soldiers doing their duty, nor does it justify Jarvan's father's death, to which they cheered," Garen countered, "Justice doesn't involve murderers going free; they have to suffer the consequences."

"I... I know that, but..."

"I'm trying to be realistic," Garen tempered, his tone calming down, "Not all the rebels will be killed... they'll be put back in cells according to their crimes, but I imagine Jarvan'll only execute the true villains among them..."

Lux puffed up at that, but restrained the complaint at the tip of her tongue. After all, at least two mages in the rebellion fit Garen's criterion.

"... but putting aside the rebels..." the slightest tick of pain hovered over Garen's eyes, "Do you remember what happened when Uncle Adrian died?"

Lux blinked, bitter memories returning to her, "Of course..."

It would've been a hard memory to forget. Adrian Crownguard was a popular figure, whose reputation as a skilled ranger-knight perhaps raised the order's popularity single-handedly at the time. His death was mourned across the country... never mind the family. Adrian always was the cool uncle; his easy attitude a far cry from Tianna's strict gaze, and he had better war stories than even their father. To hear of his death was tragic enough, but to hear a mage - someone like her - had done it... Lux didn't like to recall the time.

"I'm sure you remember that I volunteered for squiring soon after," Garen recalled, "But I wasn't the only one. Ren and Jarvan started then as well, not to mention dozens and dozens of other boys and girls, wanting to avenge their heroes and do their part. I didn't know it then, but when I trained my first recruits I realized the batch I enlisted with was perhaps the largest in recent memory. From what I heard from uncle Eldred, the Mageseeker order got many recruits then as well."

"And that was just for our uncle," Lux understood, "So it'll get worse?"

"I fear so," Garen sighed, "Jarvan used to publicly disagree with the Mageseeker order, remember? Now he's thrown a considerable chunk of the treasury at them to avenge his father, one of the most beloved kings in recent memory... all the while the villain who killed him continues his spree of murders, and now there's ice raiders and a demon's on the loose-"

"I get it-" Lux stopped herself from ranting then repeated in calmer tone, "I get it. It'll get worse and worse... but..."

An uncharacteristic growl left the light mage's lips, "Grr... what do I do, then? What can I do?"

Garen sighed, "I... I don't know."

Lux deflated with a sigh, and after a pause, sulked down to sit on the end of Garen's bed. The questions she asked herself all came up with nothing. Asking her brother, in hindsight, was foolish. How could he come up with an answer when he'd experienced a fraction of what she had, when their lives were so different?

And yet, Garen was still her brother. He gently sat by her side and put an arm around her.

"Hmm. I remember you were so scared at the time," Garen spoke in bittersweet reminiscence, "It's part of why I left but... I guess you were scared for a different reason."

The sad smile spread on Lux's face, "You couldn't have known what I was... it was a stupid fear, honestly. I always knew... deep down, you wouldn't hurt me."

"You never did anything wrong," Garen noted.

Lux stiffened in her brother's grip, "Garen-"

"It could've been your light that killed hundreds that day, not Sylas'. You could've freed that monster yourself, joined his cause... but you didn't."

It wasn't that simple, Lux thought, I never suffered like he did...

Garen seemed to read her thoughts, "The whole world was against you. It has been, even if we didn't know it. But even then, even with everyone telling you that you'd always be a monster... you've never been. You've always chosen kindness and restraint. You... may be strict sometimes-"

Lux couldn't help the smile that spread on her face.

"...But you've always shown restraint in judgement," Garen continued, "And, with your judgement... I may not know how to solve the issue of mages in Demacia, and what you should do... but I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out."

After a pause, Lux chuckled, "That wasn't the answer I was hoping for... but thank you."

"Of course," Garen smiled, "I... I don't know if what you're hoping for with the mages can happen. If it can, I don't know when it will be... it may be years into your queenship... it might not even be you who sees it finished... but I'll always be ready to help."

"I just need to keep moving forward, right?" Lux sighed at the bitter thought, but nodded, "For a better Demacia... and you'll be there to help me?"

"Always."

It was a vow Garen had made countless times, yet Lux still asked, "Promise?"

It was a follow up Lux had posed countless times, yet Garen still answered, "Promise."

Erret didn't quite bound up to hug him, but by the tone in his voice and the speed at which he stood up, Xander figured he was just a step away from that.

"Oh, thank the gods, you're back," exhaustion underlay Erret's excitement, "They haven't shut up in the past two hours!"

Sylas and Aislynn did appear to be in the middle of an argument, though thankfully it was nothing worth worrying about. Their glares weren't filled with hate; only frustration. They even seemed to be arguing on the side; Aislynn was trying together their sleeping bags whilst Sylas was feeding his drüvask out of a bag Thorva had given him before they'd left.

And, they'd stopped their argument as soon as Xander arrived, so it seemed to him it wasn't so impor-

Sylas proved the Left Hand's thought process wrong when he asked, "Xander! You mind helping me convince Aislynn that those soldiers deserved it?"

"Errr... which soldiers?"

"Well, we can start with Aron's Defiance, but in general," Sylas explained.

Aislynn motioned to Sylas in disbelief, hands raised to the revolutionary, "Did you HEAR just what came out of his mouth? He's asking you to justify murder!"

"Well... Aislynn, you do realize that I've had to justify murder countless times in my life?" Xander shrugged, "I mean, what do you want me to do? Kinda hard to take the moral high ground when I've already done terrible shit."

Aislynn's face paled, "So you agree with him?"

Xander paused, "... not on the specifics. Not sure how much you've picked up on, but i just do what I need to. I'm not gonna say those soldiers all deserved it. I mean, as weak of an argument as it is, they were following orders."

"If it's a weak argument, why're you hesitating?" Sylas questioned, brows furrowed in judgement.

Xander rolled his eyes, "It's not just orders; they genuinely believe they're in the right. They agreed because they didn't realise it was wrong, and nobody even hinted otherwise. And hell, I don't even need to go that far for the people at Aron's Defiance. They were literally doing their good, honest job: protecting Demacia from hostile invaders."

The two mages sought to continue the conversation, "So-"

The Left Hand waved the two mages off, "Enough of that. I see you guys have packed. Good show, let's get moving."

"We're moving out?" Erret asked, "I take it we didn't find our contact?"

"Indeed," Xander nodded, then turned to Sylas in somber matter, "Sylas... your spies Moises and Zalman are confirmed K.I.A."

"Confirmed K.I..." Sylas took a moment to understand the abbreviation then frowned, "... more fallen comrades. Mageseekers?"

"Presumably..." Xander frowned as well, but more from worry than mourning, "I'll spill when we get moving."

The party got moving in no time. The members who stayed behind had already packed most of their items, leaving the Snowset spy group to only mount their bought cargo on Sylas' drüvask. With some riling from the Unshackled, the beast was ready to follow along, be it through rocky terrain or the cover of tree-line.

The latter was what was followed for the most part. With the warning from Snowset in his mind, Xander kept quiet for the start of the trek; their forest trek still lay within a mile's radius from the main roads, and loud discussions about treasonous topics would be sure to attract any local patrols. He had Erret move on ahead to act as a scout, whilst Cyrus and Happ stuck behind with the drüvask; a decent perimeter for Xander to explain within. In twenty minutes, as the tree-line grew dark and dense, the Left Hand sighed in relief and began to speak.

"Sorry to keep you waiting... let's get to the point," he began, "To start, a few weeks ago, your spy Moises stuck around time for an extended period of time, giving the bartender quite the pay check. Guess your spies decided he should stay there, rather than stick to the planned rotation."

"I'm sure he had good reason," Sylas assumed.

"Well, reasons, but we'll get to the interesting one later," Xander paused, glancing up to the skies before continuing, "When Moises stuck around, he apparently started asking about local mages. At first the bartender thought he was a Mageseeker, and shut the hell up... but Moises figured out on his own that Snowset had a local population of nature mages."

"He sought to bring them to the rebellion?" Sylas asked.

"When he got them to confess, of course. According to the bartender he stayed with the family of the mages for a night. When your spies left, they followed after for a day. The townspeople said their goodbyes when they left. Maybe they made it out? Who can say..."

"What about Zalman?" Aislynn asked, "Where'd he come into things?"

"Ah, the interesting part," Xander mused "He arrived two weeks before we did. He met up with Moises and the local mages, of course, but he was around for a different reason. He was asking around about a local rumour, which I'll get to in a bit. Moises agreed to help him, told the family to meet with your last spy at Falconclaw. They left town then, but were seen in the outskirts by some hunters... until a week after. Mageseekers showed up, stuck around for that week, then left."

"Finished up their business then left without a care," Sylas summarised, "Typical. But what about this rumour?"

"Well, apparently the local region has been plagued with random disappearances for about five years," Xander explained, "Three years ago, Garen Crownguard passed by with his men to investigate it. Found some memory mage stealing, well, memories. Assumed that ended it... except, the disappearances never ended."

"The cause wasn't the memory mage?" Aislynn questioned.

"Well, the disappearances historically happened during the start of winter or end of autumn; that trend never ended. Garen's investigation occured during the spring season; his crew only came over that year because the disappearances heightened due to the mage's presence."

"But the original disappearances weren't because of the mage, and Zalman wanted to investigate it... but the Mageseekesr got to him before then."

"Not quite," Sylas noted, recalling Xander's words, "You said presumably earlier. Not yes. So, what's your theory? What happened to my men?"

"I can't say for certain, but..." the Left Hand's tone turned conspiratorial, "What do you know about the Lover's Cult?"

"The Lover's Cult?" Sylas' tone was incredulous, unbelieving, "It's real?"

Aislynn's voice carried confusion as well, only of a more genuine flavour, "Wait, Lover's Cult?"

After a pause, Sylas explained, "The Lover's Cult... it's a mystery. We don't even know what they're called; Lover's Cult is what we call them... assuming they exist. I personally doubted it; the only evidence we have of its existence as a genuine cult is a carved red heart glyph in some ruined manor to the west."

Aislynn glanced to Xander, "... but it's real?"

"Yep. My boss' demon showed me the glyph. We determined it's legit," Xander said, meeting Aislynn's gaze, "They're definitely underground, but if they're getting more active..."

"We might be able to bring them to our side," Sylas assumed, "That is, if-"

"No. Absolutely not," Xander said, "If there's any group less trustworthy than my Noxian compatriots in this kingdom, it is this Lover Cult."

"What a bold claim to make," Sylas mused, "A group less trustworthy than Noxus? Why would that be?"

"... Hmm. Well, maybe not trust, but at the very least Noxus is trying to do something productive for someone. As compared to the cult, who're obsessed not only with death, but the most agonising types they can inflict," Xander shrugged, "But, to get back to your spies, Sylas... There are three real options here. The first and arguably best option: they were found by the Mageseekers and were captured or killed."

"That's the best option?" Aislynn asked.

Xander mostly ignored her, "Option two: they were killed by the Cult. Yes, the Mageseekers would be a better fate."

"Why would that be?" Sylas questioned

The Left Hand ignored him, "Option three: they were taken by the Cult, at which point they're going to be glorified, mindless slaves... or pains in the ass going forward..."

Sylas frowned, "I asked you a question."

"Knowing you, you'd try weaponise the answer," Xander countered, "So sorry. Just, trust me on this would you? It wouldn't be pleasant-"

Sylas grabbed Xander's arm, "You want me to trust you? Then answer the question: why would the Mageseekers be a better fate than this cult?"

Xander frowned, glanced to Aislynn, then sighed, "Ah, fine."

The Left Hand pulled himself free from Sylas then answered, "It's a demon. Another demon is the head of the Lover's Cult. And despite her group's name, she's anything but friendly."

"A demon?" Aislynn slightly paled, "Are we... will we be doing anything about it?"

"If you're asking me, that depends on if they're going to get in the way," Xander answered, "We don't need to deal with her, at least right now. Leave her as a problem for when we get our reforms."

"But if we do deal with her, what could we gain?" Sylas questioned.

Xander opened his mouth to speak, but Aislynn beat him to it.

"Sylas, this is a demon we are talking about here. We can't risk that!"

"We say that whilst the man in front of us has a demon familiar and a boss who also has a demon familiar," Sylas pointed out, irritated, "Why can't we have one ourselves?"

"No reason in particular," Xander answered, "It's just that this demon's off the market."

Sylas gazed into Xander's eyes, looking for a lie within, "And why's that?"

Xander rolled his eyes before replying, "Because where my demon was a primitive, animalistic hunter and my boss' demon is a conniving pact-maker, the demon of the Lover's Cult is... well, she's just a piece of shit. It's not just about getting the emotions needed to survive; she enjoys making people suffer... and, oh, by the way, I don't think she's interested in other emotions as well. Gods know with how she operates she'd at the very least get some intake on lust."

"Lust? So she's a succubus?" Aislynn asked.

"In essence... though she is a shapeshifter, so if she wanted to seduce a woman she'd probably change into a hot dude..." Xander assumed, "Well, a straight woman. Or a gay man. But yeah, she's essentially a serial killer succubus."

"...That skillset could be useful," Sylas mused.

"But-"

"But it's too risky, I heard you," the Unshackled followed up, an irritated look on his face, "... shame my men didn't hear your speech."

"Indeed... indeed," Xander took a pensive, displeased tone, "More of a shame that they had to go searching for this Lover's Cult in the first place."

"Oh?"

"Your people mustn't be doing well," Xander elaborated, "You don't go fishing for the powers of a mysterious cult unless you're desperate..."

"So I suppose we should try pick up the pace," Sylas noted, "In a sense, we bear good tidings, after all."

"In a sense?" Xander feigned insult, "You cut me to the quick."

"How about your last spy, and the family they're to escort?" Aislynn asked, "Shouldn't we search for them?"

"We'll meet them at base," Sylas answered, "I doubt the situation's as bad as Xander makes it out to be, but it doesn't hurt-"

The sound of shuffling leaves pierced the forest, shutting down Sylas' statement swiftly. The Unshackled tensed, prompting Xander and Aislynn to do the same. The latter started backing away, the light from her eyes glowing with channeled power illuminating anxious details on her face. The glow from Xander's eyes was more tame, and rather than the indigo of dream magic faded crimson heralded hemomancy at play.

Of course, Xander only had a handful of blood vials and what he had in his own body to work with. But surely that'd be enough?

With a song of steel and sticks, cut shrubbery revealed Erret's hooded form. The infiltrator wasn't particularly worried, but Xander knew his partner to largely be cool under pressure. He glanced behind him, then headed back into the dense forest.

"Erret? What's going on?" Xander asked.

From the shadow-covered woods, Erret reappeared, producing two new faces. Neither looked to be in great shape, with the girl of early adulthood bearing a cut lip, the younger teenaged boy wearing a bruised eye, and both being supported by Erret. They both had verdant green eyes, however, implying to Xander who they were.

"We're trading spots, Xander," Erret stated, "This forest's a hunting ground for a certain psycho, and you're the only ranged fighter to contend with her."

Behind him, Xander registered Aislynn whisper his new foe's name in horror. He ignored it, channeling dream magic to his hand as a beacon. A spark of indigo was replaced with black clouds as Nocturne obliged his summoner's call. Carved petricite wood and runesteel landed in Xander's hands, ready for the Left Hand's use.

"Xander, the hell's happening?" Sylas questioned, glancing with worry between the Left Hand and Aislynn's panicking form.

"A major threat's in the way, and we're in her territory. We could risk an engagement to end her here, but that risks casualties," Xander summoned the last thing he needed, his mask - and donned it, "And we have wounded. You and Erret guide Aislynn and these mages to the drüvask. Get out of this dense forest; if there's sunlight you can spot our enemy. Of course, you hopefully won't see her for a while..."

"You'll kill her?" the Unshackled asked, the slightest tinge of envy in his voice.

Xander shrugged, "Maybe she isn't all that, and I will. I intend to survive, however, and tricking her to head elsewhere is a safer option. Wish me luck."

With that, blood rushed to Xander's legs and the Left Hand of Noxus ascended to the top of the tree line. The petricite musket Xander held charged with his magic, its carved runes glowing an eerie indigo. Dark, cursed blades emanated smoke as demon and host melded into honed harmony, ready to hunt. Of course, they knew they weren't the only hunters in the arena, with their foe having a reputation of being feared by all creatures, even those of the dark...

The Left Hand smirked, Shame. My heart, however blackened, isn't pitch yet. This is more a matter of grays...

Let's go, Vayne. Let's see what makes you tick.

Author's Note: Made some digital art for the fanfic. If you want, check out the following link: ev-tasprer/art/Xander-the-Demon-Hand-887431063.

Anyways, see you next chapter.

[Edit 20/03/22] - Textual and grammar errors corrected. Other improvements were also made for clarity's sake.