For all the darkness the two settings shared, the deep wood and the hidden hallway were unique challenges in Xander's eyes. For one, the Left Hand of Noxus found himself progressing slower than on his usual hunts; such was the nature of the branches he stepped on. Speaking of those branches, it was a delicate game to guess which would support his weight or not. Given his quandary, a mistake would surely mean death...
Of course, the hidden hallways of the Immortal Bastion had their own dangers. Hidden traps, eyes, ears and magic in the walls... and no light to seek them with. At least in this forest the morning sun could peak past holes in the canopy. Some light was better than none, especially for ranged combat.
That said, Xander wondered if his quarry had adapted to that.
I never considered the practicality of those red shades... but in low light levels those might actually help distinguish shapes and details, no?
The mental image of Nocturne furrowing his brow came with his reply, What?
Xander shook his head as he dropped to a lower branch, Never mind. Now, what's everyone else's position?
A pause, then Nocturne answered, A sprint twenty minutes east.
Mm, that won't do.
How far do you want to be?
At least an hour between. Set her the wrong way then just hope she doesn't make a wrong turn.
Nocturne scoffed in his mind's ear, Summoner, you can do better than that.
Well, of course I can. Between the two of us... I'll be generous and say 75% chance of victory.
Only 75%?
Shauna Vayne's spent her whole adult life fantasizing about killing a demon. May not be you, but I doubt she hasn't done some homework.
Hmm. With that challenge in mind, what will I do?
Just keep track of everyone's location for me, Xander channeled his magic to a petricite stone and paused his mental conversation with Nocturne, conjuring a script, And be ready to slit someone from behind. Just in case.
You bore me Summoner, Nocturne complained, but otherwise faded from view.
Xander crouched low on his branch, reveling in the almost peaceful ambience of the forest. A low, ever present whistle played background to the buzz of insects, echoes of wildlife in the distance, and, of course, crunching of leaves.
As the latter most sound grew louder, Xander flung his first petricite stone and prepared another. As he conjured another script into his illusory abilities, the footsteps came to a stop. Just a second later, they continued.
Alright, here we go... and... scene.
A dark forest in northern Demacia. Enter the Night Hunter, Shauna Va-
Actually, no. Enter Xander the Left Hand of Noxus and Nocturne the Living Nightmare. Recount everything that just happened, make it rhyme or something... and where were we?
Vayne mused aloud, "Come out, come out, little mages. Your parents are innocent of your crimes, and I'll spare them as such... if you reveal yourselves."
Hmmm...Vayne pauses then continues to prowl, her bloodied weapon revealing her lies...Xander stalks her from the stage ramparts. Those are good stage directions, right?
Oh! As Vayne nears a tree, I, Xander, wind up and slash at an adjacent, causing it to fall...
Vayne dodges (of course) with a roll and aims her crossbow at the cut stump. Though she aims at me, she does not shoot; the petricite stone Xander put down earlier glows behind Vayne.
Piltover surely has pyrotechnics good enough for that, right? Probably.
Vayne chuckled as she turned away, continuing her search, "Attacking an arbiter of the law? Well... it'll be more fun that way."
Alright then. Queue: the petricite pebble behind Vayne glows once more...
How would an illusion be portrayed in a play? Just my regular outfit, but with sparkles? An illusionist actually makes the hologram for the crowd? Well, when it doubt just assume the Pilties have some tech for that. Probably could anonymously commission Heimerdinger or something?
Anyway, on with the scene.
Alright, so Vayne stops her prowl briefly before rounding to where the stone fell.
"There you are."
She approaches the stone, finds nothing, then recoils, face pale.
(She did, after all, absorb all the fear she caused in her prey.)
Every fiber of Vayne's body is tensed as she watches her surroundings for something, anything, to give her a clue as to what's happening. She... sniffs the air? Guess she's suspecting pheromones or pollen?
Well, let's give her another branch falling out of view.
Sure enough, Vayne pivots to face the sound, crossbow trained. I, Xander, throw my second petricite stone some distance away. It bounces off some shrubs and rolls through dry leaves, making crackling sounds.
And Vayne shoots two bolts the stone's way without hesitation. After a pause... she heads to them.
And I follow her.
With that thought Xander bounded across branches, using them as bars to pull his momentum along. The Left Hand of Noxus neared the logs, arriving a few second before Vayne did. From his vantage point, Xander was able to peer past Vayne's shoulders, sighting the hunter's bolts imbedded in the wood.
Xander fought the urge to give a low whistle, Damn. If someone were there... right between the eyes.
"You already got three of your friends killed," Vayne mused.
She turned around, looked up, and fired.
Shit!
Though Xander dodged the bolt fired his way, the act unbalanced gravity's pull, the Left Hand pivoted as he fell, stabbing his musket's bayonet end into hard oak. He then pushed off the oak trunk, returning fire as he dodged an oncoming crossbow bolt that nearly impaled him.
Fuck it, fuck the script!
Thankfully his massive spear lighting up bought Xander some time. Rather than pursue, Vayne backed off to dodge the burst of magic Xander sent her way. The Left Hand then landed, grunting in pain as he let loose another string of magic bursts in a line pattern. The volley forced Vayne to take cover behind a moss ridden trunk, where she wasn't a threat.
With a hiss, Xander kneeled then lied on his belly, using the dark to hide his broken form as he healed his legs.
Alright. Second time this op. Guess I should tone down the ego...
"...You're as good as they say," Xander congratulated, "I shouldn't have underestimated you. Say, how'd you know I was there?"
"Unless that devilry you use needs runes, I wouldn't scribe them in," Vayne's smirk was audible, "Though I doubt a demon like you knows anything else."
"I'll have you know Ur-Nox is a commonly used language," Xander crawled forward, bending on one healed leg and keeping the other straight, "And that you're just fighting a mage right now. But I doubt a plebeian maniac like you gives a shit."
Vayne scoffed over her footsteps, but Xander still heard, "Plebeian? You think this gear's cheap?"
"Ah, well, I suppose I'm in no place to judge... but we're closer to commoners than we are to the king," Xander inched to a trunk and used it to stand on his slightly recovered legs, "If your family history goes back one line, can it really be called noble?"
"Well, it can't be called monster," Vayne's footsteps ceased, "That's better than you."
Xander closed his eyes with a smirk, "Ah, well..."
A massive bolt pierced through the trunk Xander rested on with a think that might've been sudden. The Left Hand predicted it, took it to his shoulder, but felt nothing. He barely grunted as his weakened arm dropped his musket. His free, winded hand went to his belt, but his healthy arm flung a third petricite stone past the trunk and flared with an eerie pink-purple.
To her credit, Vayne didn't scream at the sudden sensation of all the pain she'd caused hitting her at once. But, as Xander healed with an opened blood vial and retrieved his musket, he smirked. It was all to obvious from her demeanor that Vayne's reaction was out of character.
"Guh!" a light thud followed by lighter pants painted the scene behind the trunk for Xander, "You..."
Xander beheld Vayne the next second. Leaning her head against the trunk with a tight grimace, the hunter was all too vulnerable to a follow up. With the right boost of hemomancy Xander might've been able to decapitate her or slit her throat, but with his blood magic flowing to his wounds a relatively slow slash was barely ducked. A follow-up thrust from Xander's bayonet forced Vayne on her back though, and stripped her of her shades. Pained, pissed-off eyes glared at the Left Hand as Vayne kicked at his legs and fired with her wrist bow. Xander backed away, sidestepping and deflecting bolts as he ran past the trunk again, swooping down to grab his fallen petricite pebble before fleeing and charging it up with more magic.
By the time Vayne got back to her feet, the petricite pebble was secured in the ground and emanating illusory energies again. Xander figured he could stand in front of her and not risk a headshot... but with the prior risk he took in mind, he instead hid behind a bush, just in case.
From his place of relative safety, Xander spoke.
"You know, you might singlehandedly make the Vayne name synonymous with monsters," he taunted, "Those kids you were hunting were quite terrified of you."
"As they should be. I'm a hunter, they're my prey," Vayne growled, "So are you."
"Sure I am... I'm the one who got knocked on their ass and has no clue where her target is. Yeah, I'm the prey here," Xander chuckled, "Though truth be told, I'd rather not have to kill you... at least, not now. I'm a little busy and would like to get on my way."
"If those kids are dead weight, I'll happily take them off your shoulders," Vayne snarled.
Xander replied, "I'm certain you'd be aiming for something else on my shoulders... that said, if I may offer you another target..."
"I'm not one to trust monsters," Vayne muttered.
"Neither am I the type to feed a serial killer's tendencies, yet here I am," Xander taunted.
At the words 'here I am,' the petricite Xander hid glowed again. Vayne turned around and fired her crossbow, the fired bolt impaling the illusion Xander put in her mind. Vayne lowered her weapon with a frustrated grimace; the shot she fired was perfect, but Xander's magic still kept his image standing where it appeared, a smug glint in his eye.
"And let's be real, whatever you tell yourself at night, you are a serial killer," Xander chuckled, "Lowest of the low; a piece. Of. Shit."
Vayne glanced around, trying to find a clue of where Xander actually lay, before growling and countering, "And what does that make you? Stroll into the capitol, threaten to kill the Crownguard girl, make a few scars, but never end up killing anyone? I'm purging this world of your filth one mistake at a time; I'm actually being useful. What are you doing for your devilish kind?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Xander bid his illusion to turn its back to Vayne jovially, "Or rather, what would you like to know? Quite a lot, I imagine; where the two mages you were chasing went, who I am, what's happening in general with the rebellion... oh, and most important, what I was going to tell you earlier. Spoiler: it's the only question I'll actually answer."
Vayne followed with a step, "Not even why you're bothering to tell me anything at all?"
Xander paused, tempted to remove his illusion's mask to show his admitting smirk, "Well, ok. Main reason's that if I just piss off you might run into me again, and that'd be annoying. But, I also believe you - yes, you, the mage hunter - can help me. Better yet, you can help Demacia by going off where I send you; if you'll listen..."
Vayne took tentative steps towards the buried petricite pebble with seeming intent, narrowed her eyes, then turned away from it with a growl, "Never been one to deal with your kind this way... but fine, I'll bite."
Xander elaborated, "I assume along with the child mage's parents, another bought them time to escape? Some mage rebel with a bolt through their head? Well, they weren't the only ones around."
"That so? And these supposed mage rebels... where are they now? Why wouldn't they be here, already dead trying to delay the inevitable?"
"Death by your hands is hardly inevitable, but I digress," Xander chuckled as he prepared the hook, "A few days after the attack on the capital, a man went missing in the town of Snowset. He wasn't the first or last of the region."
"That trail went dead months ago," Vayne noted with reprimanding tone, "If that's all you've got-"
"You haven't checked the bigger picture then," Xander mused, feigning disappointment, "Well, I'm not the one with a vendetta. Ain't my problem..."
"...Bigger picture? Vendetta?" Vayne's brows furrowed, "What in the hells are you talking about?"
"Well, for big picture... The local patrols assume everything's fine around here because the last mage to set up nearby got their ass kicked by Garen," Xander chuckled, "But you... you know better than to stop there..."
"Not human... Thanks for the tip, monster, but why should I not finish business with you before moving on to your friend?"
"She isn't my friend, but even she'd agree..." The darkest part of Xander's heart flared with amusement, "... A nobleman's daughter like yourself... ought to smile more."
Vayne's reaction was exactly what Xander expected. She flinched as the words registered, and her lips slowly morphed to an almost animalistic grimace. With a growl Vayne turned around.
"You... where are you?!" She demanded, "Show yourself!"
Well, maybe don't turn your back on me. You were so close...
Amidst the echoes of Vayne's demands, the Left Hand made his escape. Yet, as he collected his thrown petricite pebbles, then backed away into the dark wood, then ascended up growing trees back to the canopy, Xander didn't take an eye of Vayne. He remained silent as the Night Hunter's rage waned. He watched as she put her crossbow to her back, then slowly walked away.
Even without his magic, Xander knew there was intent behind those steps.
Alright then. Be a dear and deal with the succubus, would you? Well, as long as you're not on my tail...
The Left Hand turned tail and clambered to a lower, thicker branch. Footing secure, Xander channeled his dream magic again, prompting shadows to return.
That was embarrassing, Nocturne criticized.
You kidding? Xander scowled, That was an excellent display of manipulation!
Perhaps. But getting caught like that was not befitting of your skill.
Xander shrugged, Well... I had fun fighting her.
I would've had fun killing her, Nocturne complained, So will Evelynn... what a waste of a good hunt.
Maybe, the Left Hand admitted, But knowing that psycho, which I vaguely do, she'll definitely not pull the trigger. Play with her food and all.
That could've been us playing with our food.
Could've been. But this ain't an assassination op. Sooner we're back, the better. So, lead the way?
Nocturne grumbled his reply.
Her legs ached and her chest strained for breath. Light uncomfortably pierced her vision as the forest faded from view. By all physical metrics, Aislynn was exhausted. Yet, her mind raced around its track at blistering pace, echoing a single thought like a siren song.
Shauna Vayne is here.
Behind her, Sylas and Cyrus lightly panted. Everyone else had gone through the same sprint she had, but as an added bonus Sylas and Cyrus had to lug along their new friends; the ones Shauna Vayne hunted. That wasn't all; Happ asked something, and Erret responded somehow, with something... Aislynn couldn't hear it past the ringing and sweat threatening drip into her eyes.
The new mages didn't paint a pretty picture. Tears stained their cheeks, with the young girl lip cut and scarred by sticks and her brother bruised and limping. The girl's expression was the picture of fear; eyes dilated and glancing around for the threats that lay beyond. The boy's eyes were worse: they were glazed and lost, dead to the world. And as if that wasn't enough, a nasty gash cut through the latter's leg and - Aislynn forced her view away as her stomach lurched. The blood and steel only served as a reminder that-
Shauna Vayne is here.
"We-" Aislynn paused, shutting her eyes and trying to force away her nausea, "We have to get out..."
The dream mage opened her eyes and stumbled back first to a trunk. It only proved to aid the point Erret would make. The Noxian surveyed the party and the area they stood in, hands at his hip, near his sword scabbards.
"We're far enough, and with the light around we shouldn't need worry as much," Erret noted, "Rest a moment. We'll continue our march momentarily."
A denial was on Aislynn's tongue, but it never left. How could it, when the opposite choice was to empty her gut?
"She's still out there," the wounded girl broke the silence with the rasp of a dried, exhausted throat, "And your friend-"
"Xander'll be fine," Erret assured, "He'll drive her off, and we'll be on our way."
"No, you don't understand!" fear bubbled under the girl's gaze, "Vayne is- She's a mage hunter! Whatever powers your friend has-"
The girl had the right idea, as far as Aislynn was concerned. She wasn't exactly correct: their hunter's skills weren't what made her so damn terrifying. Just the image of those red eyes and Cheshire smirk, framed with blood- the nausea returned, and Aislynn decided her decision to hold her tongue was a stupid one. Emptying her stomach was better than emptying the rest of her, which her stupid decision might as well had done because-
Shauna Vayne is here.
"My friend isn't just a mage. He's a damn good soldier, and a relentless warrior," oblivious to Aislynn's thoughts, Erret rolled his eyes, "Anti-magic shouldn't hinder him in a one-versus-one..."
"Can he?"
Erret's gaze was disdainful, but through her blurring vision Aislynn continued her rant.
"He can't, can he? That m-" Aislynn shivered as her vision went from blurry to wet. Her breath quickened, and a fire like petricite in her veins burned more panic out of her, "She's too much. She... you're soldiers, dealing with other soldiers and beasts... but that's all there is! You can't beat her: she's a monster!"
"Not the first we've dealt with," Erret repeated calmly, "You don't need to worry-"
"Like hell I don't," Aislynn stumbled back into a tree trunk, her chest heaving and her legs shaking, "Like hell..."
"Aislynn, you need to calm down," someone ordered, as if it were that simple, "I need you to take deep breaths-"
She already was. She needed the oxygen if she was to escape. The tree trunks around her melded with the shadows they made, forming an ever-closing wall of dark blues. The light behind her glowed far too bright and seemed too red for her liking, but something told her it was her only way out. Another part told her that she should perhaps follow the advice given to her, to calm down, but how could she when-
Shauna Vayne is here.
Someone else called the dream mage's name, but by then it was too late. Aislynn's blood tolled a bell in her ears, punctuated by her rapid breaths. The world became a blur of pain as her already taxed legs swung back and forth, and her already beaten feet struck the earth, step after step after step-
The world darkened as her chest and chin blossomed with pain, and the taste of dirt filled her mouth. Yet, though her knees shook with pain and her chest threatened to burst, and her arms grew sore and now, Aislynn knew she was definetely framing her face with tears - she still had to run. Red eyes stalked the corner of her vision, somehow still discernible in the blur of her eyes. Shadows of an awfully blue hue closed in. They reminded her: she had to run, run from them, run from her. She had to-
"Aislynn!"
Something grabbed her by the arms with a grip like iron. Aislynn kicked at the dirt, squirming and trying to get free-
"Aislynn!" The voice that called was louder now.
A demented, desperate, tear-framed screech left the dream mage's lips as she shut her eyes, "Get off me, let me go!-"
"Aislynn," the voice was right in front of her, not yelling. Instead, it was a firm but focused command that followed, "Aislynn... You're safe. You're safe here. Breathe."
She doubted that, of course, but with a hoarse throat and stinging eyes, Aislynn reluctantly stopped thrashing. The stiffness in her body stuck until she opened her eyes, however.
"S... Sylas?"
None of the hatred the dream mage had associated with the revolutionary as of late was present in his eyes. Sylas only held concern for his fellow mage.
"You're safe, Aislynn," Sylas repeated. It seemed he wanted to say more, but nothing else left his mouth; he instead held Aislynn tighter.
Perhaps in another time Aislynn would've fought harder to be free, but for now she defaulted on the support, curling into herself as her slowly slowing breaths gave way to crying.
"She-" Aislynn gasped for air between sobs, "She's still... Vayne's out..."
"That doesn't matter," Sylas let go of Aislynn's arms but held her close, "I'll protect you."
For that brief moment frozen in time, Aislynn believed him. Still shivering at the weight of her emotions, the dream mage remained in Sylas' hold - no, embrace. As her breathing slowed, all Aislynn could do was rest her tormented body.
Yet even as the warmth wrapped around her reminded Aislynn that she was, in fact, safe, the tears dropped down. In the silent dark, something bittersweet crawled from her heart up her throat. Aislynn couldn't put a word to it; she was simultaneously content, yet yearning, and disgust was rising as her rational mind and memories... and she'd be lying if she claimed fear didn't still linger underneath it all. Trying to process the mess of emotions made Aislynn ache more then she already was, though, so the dream mage was content laying in the arms of the man she...
No. I don't hate Sylas. I never did, but...
This changes nothing... just because...
Aislynn sighed into Sylas' chest, which was covered with a coat now damp with her tears. The dream mage might've felt embarrassed at the thought normally, but her breakdown left its toll. She could only close her eyes and rest, content that, whilst Shauna Vayne was out there, she was safe here.
When a conversation between Sylas and another, familiar friend started, Aislynn didn't notice. At that point, ten peaceful minutes later, the realm of dreams her magic was attuned was where she lay.
Fucking hell, why did I tell Xander to deal with Vayne? Surely I would've been fine if I just stole his gun-spear?
As Erret sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, the cries before him didn't waver. As if Aislynn suddenly losing her shot wasn't enough of a headache, the new girl began to panic as well. And simply put, dealing with that problem was far beyond the saboteur.
"Look, there's no way Vayne can sneak up on us," Erret groaned, "The sun's shining on all of her entries, we have a pig with a sense of smell that can root her out, and we have... I could deal with her easily."
The girl didn't cease her sobs. In fact, they intensified.
Cyrus came from behind and wrapped her in his arms, whispering something before glaring at Erret.
"Quit shouting," the fire mage said, "You're scaring her."
"Shouting?" Erret squinted, confused, "I'm just... projecting my voice."
"Right," Cyrus shook his head, "Just... take a walk, secure the perimeter, whatever it is Xander would have you do."
Erret groaned with irritation, "Deal with her, then. I'll go make sure Sylas and Aislynn didn't run far."
"But what about us?" Happ asked from behind Sylas' drüvask, one of their bags of rations in his hands, "If Vayne comes-"
"She won't, because she's probably already been killed by Xander-" Erret waved himself off, "Whatever. You'll be fine. See ya."
With that, Erret departed down the path Aislynn made. The Noxian didn't need to call in his tracking experience to follow: the dream mage hadn't been subtle in the slightest, her footprints imprinted deep into the dirt. And as if that wasn't enough, Sylas' chains left their mark as well...
How the hell has the rebellion lasted this long? Not a sense of stealth in these idiots!
...never mind stealth, the hell was that outburst? You lead almost a warhost's worth of men, and you act like that?
When the white cloak and golden glint of Sylas' garb shone past the shadows, Erret prepared his volley of reprimands. They never left the confines of his mind, however. Familiar dark steel highlighted by blue stood over Sylas. Erret held his tongue as approached.
"... she was interned by the Mageseekers," Sylas recounted, clearly replying to a question of Xander's, "What did you expect?"
"Well... she runs her own village, so I kinda assumed she was fine?" Xander sighed, "Ah hell... so I'll assume probably half the revolution has those underlying issues?"
"We get by," Sylas replied, "I imagine you Noxians do too, eh? Going to war so much? That can't be healthy."
"I'd have to ask for details," Xander shrugged, "Hmm... Rell'd probably be into dealing with those issues. If there ever was a heroic Noxian... wouldn't you say, Erret?"
After a pause, the saboteur walked past the shrubs that hid him, "... fuck. How'd you know?"
"I've only spent most of the past two years with you. And with our occupation, if I couldn't recognize you..."
"Quite..." Erret glanced to Aislynn's sleeping face, frowning at the trail of tears on her cheek, "... Hmm. Underlying issues?"
"Trauma," Xander elaborated, "The shit that keeps you up at night in cold sweats. You know, the reason Gerris has to stay up late helping recruits out?"
"Ah... I see," Erret grimaced, "She'll have to get over it quickly..."
"It isn't that simple," Sylas glared at Erret with poison in his eyes, "You don't just get over what the Mageseekers do."
A riposte of a reply was on Erret's tongue, but he instead glanced to Xander, "... well...?"
"Nah, he's right," Xander shrugged, "Just because you don't have panic attacks doesn't mean you got out scot-free. Gods knows you were damn-near a sociopath before I stepped in."
Erret squinted his eyes, "Really? I wasn't that bad."
"Ok, fair, you weren't that bad... but you did try to kill me when we first met. And... wait, hold on... yeah, no, you were fucked in the head."
"How?"
"Well for one you killed two people during reckoner training, which sure, fair enough, that's just how reckoners work... but didn't you say those weren't your firsts?"
"... I had to defend myself."
"But you did kill them," Xander sighed, "Ah. Well, I'm fucked too, then. Let's be real. We three are, given how we're killers... heh, and we won't be solving that problem any time soon."
"No, we won't," Sylas agreed, rising from the forest floor with Aislynn's limp body in a bridal carry, "We've got quite the list ahead…"
The king, the mageseekers, the Crownguards, any other loyalists in the way… and before all of that, us, probably? Erret smirked privately, Well, put us on your list, I'll put you on mine.
"Speaking of lists," Sylas continued, "You deal with the last name we had there?"
"Would that be… Vayne?" From Xander's chuckle, Erret knew the hunter still lived, but whether Sylas caught that or not, the saboteur couldn't say, "Ah, well-"
A shout of pain grew in volume past the trees, interrupting Xander. Cyrus' panicked voice interrupted the shout as the fire mage called from beyond the trees, "Erret, has Xander caught up to you?"
Seriously? We're trying to be incognito and you...
The saboteur stopped his grumbling and motioned to Xander follow, "He's here, hold on."
Erret led Xander back to the rest of the party, the two leaving Sylas in the dust as they rose past old shrubbery. With a slash of his sword, Erret cut through a series of saplings in their way, shaving off seconds of travel time with each swipe. They didn't find Cyrus first, however: the new mage girl was the first they met up with, her frightened frame jumping at the sound of Erret's path-making. Cyrus sat behind and beneath her, his hands glowing like hot irons. The fire mage's back was to them, with the mage facing the third party – the one Erret quickly discerned was the main concern. The young boy who was wounded by Vayne lay on the floor, one of the tarps from the drüvask separating his wounded frame from the dirt.
"You made it," Cyrus sighed, "Come on, Noxian. Your medical expertise is needed."
"Noxian?" the girl whispered. Though she wasn't the bumbling mess Erret last saw her as, she was still clearly disturbed.
Xander squinted, too confused to note the girl's reaction to their origin, "I'm not a medic?"
"Your hemomancy, stupid," Erret caught on quickly, "One of our new recruits needs it."
Xander's gaze found the wounded boy, and he shut his mouth then and there. Erret followed the gaze and took a closer look... and grimaced. The boy's wounds seemed to have been worse than he first noticed: a massive gash had ripped through the boy's right thigh. It was no mere cut: clearly, Vayne had shot right through the limb. The skin around the gash was doused red, but the gash itself was black and raw; Cyrus must've cauterized the wound to prevent blood loss, and that was what elicited the boy's scream. Despite how painful it must've been, and the sound that had no doubt come from the boy previously, the boy's gaze held no pain. Instead, it was a haunting look all too familiar to Erret; he'd seen such sights on the streets of Noxus Prime many times. The boy's eyes were misty and glassy, lost to the world. Combined with shallow breaths, the boy's state was clear to Erret.
He's on death's door…
"Damn..." Xander cursed, "apologies for running my mouth-"
"Get to it," Cyrus insisted. Erret, for once, agreed.
The Left Hand did as asked, opening up a blood vial and letting his magic play. The boy grunted lightly, breaking the . Charred meat gave way to healing pink flesh, which slowly pulled themselves together as a scab formed around where the wound lay. Raw skin also formed, covering the flesh. The red hue in Xander's eyes faded then.
"Well, he won't be bleeding to death any time soon," Xander noted, "And his bones at least can set well now... we'll need some sort of cast though, and any fresh blood we find will go straight into healing..."
"But?" Cyrus questioned.
"... but he'll be limping the rest of the journey," Xander said, "I've stabilized him, but unless we get assistance or significantly more blood, he won't be walking."
"Didn't you sever cut arms in the capital?" Cyrus asked.
"Yes, but I planned for that," Xander replied, "I only packed basic hemomancy healing vials for the trip. The stuff I used in the capital? That was a collab between Yin and I. This stuff's just me, and I'm nowhere near her level."
"... Yin?"
"My girlfriend and a prodigal hemomancer born to a family of historic hemomancers," Erret said, with some small amount of pride, "But that said... how much blood would we need to fully heal him?"
"I suppose we're in the wild..." Xander shrugged, "Maybe we'll go hunting for deer or something. A fully grown one should be more than enough."
"But he'll still live, right?"
Xander, Cyrus, and Erret turned to find the boy's sister looking at her sibling's body with fear and hope. Xander quelled the first with a roll of his eyes.
"Yes, of course, if I couldn't what the hell was the point of learning the trade..."
Xander stopped his monologue before turning his eyes red again. The girl gasped as her own wounds - comparatively superficial as they were - closed.
"You'll feel a bit weaker tomorrow morning," Xander shrugged and closed his eyes as he explained, "I used some of your blood for that heal job, but its better than nothing-"
The Left Hand's explanation was abruptly stopped - and his eyes forced open - when the girl near tackled him with a hug. Though the noise was largely unintelligible with the girl again crying, this time into Xander's robes, even Erret could tell she was repeating some phrase of gratitude. Xander paused momentarily before rolling with it and patting the girl on the shoulder. He, of course, also frowned desperately at Cyrus, clearly trying to communicate for the fire mage to take the girl off of him.
A shame Cyrus wasn't as good a read of Xander's body language as he was... And Erret sure as hell wasn't helping him there: he didn't even know where to begin with that.
Xander grimaced momentarily, "Er... you can let go now."
The girl did swiftly, with a shaky apology. Cyrus glared with judgement at Xander, which prompted a warning glance fro Erret to the fire mage. The Left Hand, unaware of his compatriots' squabble, only chuckled.
"No need to apologize. I'm just not used to sudden hugs is all," Xander shrugged, "Guess it's an occupational hazard... for lack of better term?"
"Who're... what are you for that case?" The girl asked.
"Ehhh..." Xander walked off as he explained, not facing the girl, "You… let's say you didn't mishear."
"Mishear…" the girl mumbled to herself in confusion before stiffening in realization, "But… you saved me…"
"Yeah! I did! And my sword-wielding buddy there helped!" Xander snapped around with a smile, "And isn't it a shame that we Noxians are helping Demacian citizens better than… you know, actual Demacians? Ah well, I was born here as well, so I mean…"
"But… I'm not Demacian…"
Xander sent a worried glance to the girl, but it dissapeared with her explanation.
"I'm a mage… I can't be a Demacian, I-"
"You are a Demacian," Sylas insisted, resting Aislynn against a nearby tree before attending to the young mage, "Our gifts don't take that away from us. Only they dared do that… they had no right to. You don't need to think that way, even if they do."
"I… those chains…" whatever issues with Sylas argument the girl had, they dissapeared when she realized who he was, "You're the revolutionary, Sylas!"
"I am, and I'm here to protect you; you and your brother; all the mages oppressed in this kingdom… I will keep you safe," Sylas declared, some of that self-righteous charisma dripping into his voice.
Erret rolled his eyes, but decided against shutting the revolutionary up. Xander did, albeit in an indirect manner.
"We're assisting him, if my dealing with Vayne wasn't enough of a clue for that," the Left Hand interjected, "Now, to keep safe, let's get a move on. We're still technically in hostile territory."
Whilst Sylas frowned at his speech's cut-off, Cyrus raised a more pressing complaint, "How'll we move with the kid sleeping? Maybe we could wake up Aislynn, but… they won't moving any time soon…"
Xander paused before answering wtha smile, "We're strapping men, aren't we? We'll take care of some of the cargo and give our wounded the carriage."
Cyrus nodded, "Let's get to it then."
"Quickly," Xander answered, "The quicker we're out of here the better… Erret?"
The saboteur nodded wordlessly; the order went without saying. But before he could turn to head out, Sylas raised another question.
"What's with the rush? You already dealt with Vayne, right?"
Xander didn't answer; not at first, "… well…"
Erret stepped back, eyes narrowing on his friend, "You did kill Vayne already, didn't you?"
Xander didn't answer.
Erret filled in the blanks, "You didn't."
"… Nope," Xander finally admitted. He chuckled, "You know what, I think I should take point, with my rifle and all..."
"Hold on-"
By the time Xander had run far enough to pass off not hearing Erret's calls, Sylas finally processed what Xander said.
"W-wait, hold on, he didn't kill Vayne?!"
"Yup... this is my life," Erret mumbled, not so much answering Sylas as repeating the truth to himself, "Was supposed to just be second best reckoner, maybe kick Draven's ass and get a good paycheck, but no, had to lose to and befriend the crazy Demacian..."
"Wha..." Sylas glanced to Erret, then to the shrubs Xander passed through, "But... why would he...?"
"He can't avoid us forever," the saboteur reminded, "Let's get a move on. We know what we did, now we deal with the problem. Then he'll explain himself."
"Will he?"
"Well... he usually does," Erret chuckled, "Though if he doesn't, good luck convincing him to."
From the frown that grew on Sylas' face, Erret knew the revolutionary would eventually need it.
"Just my luck..."
Luck, naturally, was an inconsistent factor of Xander's life. But, throughout his second go of the great game, the Left Hand had noted that his fortunes always bordered the extremes. He was born as a powerful mage in a kingdom that hated mages... he was skilled enough to rise up the ranks in near-unheard speed, but that got him neck deep in the secret politics of the nation...
And in this case, just as they cleared the forest, a temperate storm began, but then they also found a cave... made partially from the roots of old petricite trees.
Welp, beggars can't be choosers.
"Inside," Xander beckoned.
"Inside the magic-draining cave?" Sylas questioned.
"Not all of it is petricite, and it's not like we didn't live in petricite houses and cities for extended periods," Xander didn't speak further, instead heading into the cave's mouth.
Of course, the rest of the party shortly followed.
"Cyrus, lights?"
The fire mage didn't answer Xander with words, instead illuminating the cave in amber light. Even with such low light levels, Xander could pick out the colors of the stone, noting where pale white gave way to dull grey... and red... and a somehow stronger grey... and yellow eyes.
Ah, those are... those are the jungle camp wolves... Murk Wolves, right? Ah well... Nocturne?
The growls of woken murk wolves turned quickly to mewls as their illuminated dwelling was forcefully returned to darkness again. Nocturne's form flared up as it absorbed the beasts' fear. In a brief flare of smoke, the wolves' panic returned, and they ran past the demon, past Xander, and through the cave entrance. All but one; the runt of the litter was run through with an umbral blade, its blood dripping on the cave's stone floor.
"Hmmm... well that's…" Xander facepalmed briefly then turned back to his party. His attention was on the youngest conscious member they had, "Kid... apologies for forgetting, but, what're your names?"
"Umm... I'm Reya, Noxian sir," the girl answered with hesitation, "My brother's... Re..."
"If you're going to lie to me at least be decent at it," Xander rolled his eyes, "Why would you even hide their name? What would I gain, save for the ability to address you properly, in knowing your names? Hang on, is Reya even your name?"
"It is, sir..." the girl insisted, "… and my brother is Jerod."
"I can confirm; they told me on the march," Happ commented. The wounded mage had taken a liking to the new recruits, thankfully taking them out of Xander and Sylas' hands as they… discussed sensitive topics, "Nice names. Strong names. And Reya, you don't need to call him sir. He's not our leader."
"And for Sylas?"
The revolutionary in question chuckled, "Well, you don't need to call me anything, but Happ's still calling me sir."
"Only keeping tradition, sir!" Happ didn't quite laugh, but his smile was there.
Xander nodded at it all, then continued, "Anyway... Reya, with this, your brother should be up and running again tomorrow."
The mage glanced to the wolf corpse in the corner with a shudder, "Thanks, I... er, using wolf's blood won't do anything... weird, will it?"
"If using animal blood to heal yourself turned you partly into said animal, I'd probably be quarter blood-hound at this point," Xander jested, "Not to worry, your brother'll be up and running and normal tomorrow. Well, after I heal him, but yeah."
Sylas chuckled lightly at the jest, though his eyes held only ice for Xander. The revolutionary turned his gaze to his old ally, "Cyrus, I trust you can set up camp? I suspect this'll be as far as we can go for today."
"Don't need to tell me," Cyrus answered after setting Aislynn to rest comfortably against a tarp-covered stone, "You two can go off and… secure our area."
"Quite right," Xander rolled his eyes, "Welp… Erret, you'll be first watch today. If you don't mind, set up my sleeping bag then rest up, I suppose. Oh, and you all can have dinner ahead of us."
With that, the two leaders, for lack of better term, left the cave. Gold chains left a path for the smoky figure that followed the two mages. Glancing past the treeline, Xander found the moon watching in the sky. He sighed, attempting to take solace in the relative calm of the setting before him. Alas, that tranquility ended a mere three footsteps past the cave hearing distance.
"So, Noxian, what reason could you possibly have to justify not killing that murderer?"
"Straight to the point," Xander mused, "Well, justice has little to do with it. As you may have guessed, I found she could be more useful alive than dead."
"Every second she lives more mages are at risk. Any of them that die between then and now…" Sylas ponted an accusing finger at Xander, "That'll be on you!"
"That'll be on her, actually, not that I'd bother ask for those details next time we meet," the Left Hand rolled his eyes, "Look, I'm aware that Vayne might kill some wandering mages on the way to being useful, but I assure you if she actually deals with what I've sent her against, Demacia will be better for it. And if not-"
"You killed that ranger-knight who ran into us with the tribe, and all he did was look at us. Vayne's killed not only my men, but Aislynn's as well," the revolutionary interjected vehemently, "How is that just?"
"It isn't… I chose to spare Vayne because it was more useful. Dalin had to die because him seeing us working together and with the Freljordians, among other things, would've screwed us in the long run. If he got out, the loyalists would've known about our little scheme, and your revolution would lose all its public support... again, among other things," Xander sighed, "… before I continue, are you actually going to listen?"
"… You're on thin ice," Sylas warned, eyes glowing a telling blue.
Xander responded with an indigo glow framed with darkness, "I can swim, hold my breath, and have a pickaxe to break the ice. But if that's all, I'll continue."
Sylas didn't speak any further, so the Left Hand explained his actions.
Or at least, that was the plan.
"… heh, it really was just my luck… do you remember what we were discussing before we had to split?"
Sylas scowled, "Quit stalling-"
"The Lover Cult, I believe, was the topic of discussion then," Xander interupted, "I believe I mentioned how it's, in short, bad news? Well, I directed the resident monster hunter to that actually problematic group of magic practisioners. "
"So you chose to condemn fellow mages just for… what?" Sylas stomped a step closer to the Left Hand, showing his wish for aggresion, "Would the hint of this cult even give us breathing room? She might be backtracking right this way!"
"Oh, I'm certain we've shaken her off," Xander assured, "Remember how I mentioned the Lover Cult are just worshipers for another demon?"
"… Vaguely."
"Well, for one, that means most if not all of them are just regular people worshiping a demon. It's hard to be superstitious about magic when you can use it yourself... So no, I haven't sent another mage sect to die," Xander remarked confidently, only to sigh as he moved topics, "Secondly, as for Vayne, to say she's personally invested in dealing with the Lovers Cult is putting it mildly."
Sylas furrowed his brow, "Why so?"
"Because Evelynn, the demon of the cult, killed her parents," Xander answered, content at seeing Sylas' stiff, hostile posture break at the news, "Yeah. Pretty fucked up. You could almost understand why Vayne wants to kill the lot of us."
"... That doesn't justify her killing those kids' parents. Not in the slightest," Sylas recovered quickly, cold hate burning in his voice, "She's still a monster."
"Of course," Xander chuckled, "But then again, aren't we?"
Sylas furrowed his brows, "I'm fighting for the oppressed mages in the country. You say that you do the same, not that I believe you…"
"When you come around, I'll tell everyone you always believed me."
Sylas scowled at the jest, but moved past it, "… but even if you're just doing it for your masters, you haven't orphaned someone, or tortured someone…"
"You really don't know if I have, though…"
Sylas stopped his musing, "… Do you want me to distrust you?"
"No… I'd prefer if you trusted me. As such, I'd like to be honest with you. I like to be honest in general, in truth; far easier than lying…" the Left Hand gave a bittersweet smile, "But that includes being honest about the fact that I am a monster. Maybe not a kill-a-kid-with-a-smile monster… but enough to recognise one."
"… Recognise two, you mean," Sylas frowned at the implication, but that he wasn't crippled told Xander he could continue.
"We do what we believe is right. Whether it's the belief that mages are as Demacian as the rest of them… or that they're pests to be killed… or that this kingdom, for all its good, needs just that little Noxian flair to be perfect…" The Left Hand chuckled, "That's true for everyone, really, but the difference for us monsters is what we do – what we think is right – is just that bit more extreme. It's not just about fighting the oppressors; it's purging the lot of them. It's not just about destroying every magical threat to society; it's about exterminating them at the source. We monsters take it to the extreme, and worse than that… we've come to enjoy it. Haven't we?"
Sylas didn't have a reply. Xander chuckled, glancing around, "I think we've secured the area, no? Nocturne can keep watch for a bit longer, or the whole night, honestly… Unless there's anything else you want to talk about?"
Sylas followed Xander's gaze with a grimace. To Xander, the revolutionary looked all too discontent at his answers, but that had been the trend, so the Left Hand put little thought to it. Content with the lack of glowing on Sylas' arm runes and eyes, Xander strapped his musket to his back and took a step back to the cave.
"I know you're a killer, and I can tell you're a monster… like me…" Sylas muttered, "… What's your extreme? What are you doing? And why?"
"... Is my being a killer not an extreme enough?" Xander shook his head, though he didn't look back to Sylas, "I do what you do, generally, only less killing, more... mental warfare."
"As for the why..." After thinking about if for a few seconds, the Left Hand could only chuckle, "We're really not so different, are we? In truth, even if we consider my orders, my wishes aren't so different to yours."
"And what are those wishes?" Sylas approached closer, "Tell me the truth."
"I have… but as you said," the Left Hand sent a bitter smirk Sylas' way, "You don't believe me."
Sylas frowned, discontent, but he again didn't have a reply. Xander took the opportunity to go on his way. Nocturne's shadows lingered and took on the shapes of fear, the demon and his monsters remaining outside the cave. They parted ways as Sylas followed silently.
In fact, no words left the revolutionary's mouth until they returned to the cave. Even then, they were only simple replies for Happ and for the new mages; Reya was invested in knowing the state of affairs for the mage revolution she would inevitably join. Thankfully for the new mage recruit, Sylas was clear and concise. There was an edge in his points, though whether it was because Xander had ruined his mood or if it was a natural result of Sylas' revolutionary nature was unknown to the Left Hand.
Xander didn't interrupt Sylas' explanations, nor did he take note of their contents. Nocturne could revisit those periphary memories later, and it wasn't as though Erret was busy; he could take notes for this shift. Instead, Xander simply recalled the reactions of the revolutionary as he laid on his set-up sleeping bag.
Well… he's actually self-aware. So, that's a good start, at least…
As the Left Hand's gaze on the stone ceiling above him blurred out of focus, his mind narrowed in on the events of the day.
I honestly shouldn't be surprised seeing that side of Sylas. I mean, of course he would be a dick to everyone else, but his fellow mages? Probably the nicest guy on Runeterra to them… for those that ignore the bloodstained other side, of course. Guess being around him when he's pissed off gave me that impression.
Not that I was the only one to notice...
Xander's gaze wandered vaguely to Cyrus' direction. The fire mage had interjected into Sylas' explanations, elaborating on the difference of opinion he and Aislynn held in comparison with the Unshackled. Surprising Xander again, Sylas didn't declare Cyrus a traitor or anything. He did attempt to convince Cyrus to return, from what Xander could make out, but it was in a civil manner.
Not to mention, even after Aislynn ditched him, he still calmed her down from her panic attack. So I suppose as long as you can pull some magic the big man won't hold a grudge on you?
Heh. Were it so easy.
As long as I'm sworn to Noxus, I doubt Sylas will ever be able to fully trust me... to be fair, whether I choose to follow a Noxian order or my Demacian nature is basically a coinflip; I could hardly trust myself in that regard. But surely there's a way to convince him that my beliefs are genuine?
Ah, right. Well, that's as good a start as any.
With a sigh, Xander rose from his sleeping bag and slowly crawled over to the drüvask. Or rather, who lay behind it. There was, of course, Aislynn's sleeping form leaned against a fluffy bag and a convenient slant in the cave walls. More of note to the Left Hand was the mage boy, Jerod. He'd been set on a tarp and had his wounds bandaged up. Said bandages blushed with blood stains, though since the smell had only been noticeable up close, Xander figured the bleeding had slowed.
The Left Hand of Noxus noted his blood source had been set a safe distance away, likely to prevent infection. A brief bubble of bemusement filled Xander; he'd never previously considered such a problem before, but now that someone else had it seemed so logical. And yet, he knew there was nothing to fear. Channeling his power into unnatural yet trained pathways, the wooly corpse of the murk wolf shrank as its blood floated into the air. The liquid glowed an unnerving maroon as the will of a hemomancer activated its magic.
"You're healing him now?" Sylas' voice accompanied the sound of scuffling.
"I did promise he'd be up and running tomorrow," Xander replied, "Though admittedly, I almost forgot."
Mentally keeping the blood floating, Xander tugged lightly at Jerod's bandages and assessed the wounds. Though some light bruises and wounds framed the boy's figure, the main issues still remained with his leg injury. Having a bolt of silver imbedded through a thigh was bad enough: that the bolt shot through bone made the job... tricky. And, of course, there was the issue of said wound being partially healed - with some rushed mistakes; some muscles had grown in the wrong way, Xander saw - and some remains of Cyrus' cauterisation job.
It's not like I was hoping for surplus or anything...
"Alright guys, you may want to watch," Xander announced, "See, hemomancy can be learned by any mage, as it turned out. I won't claim to be good enough to teach, but watching may give you a clue."
The Left Hand lowered the glowing blood into Jerod's body. It shifted through his skin, prompting a grunt of discomfort after a short pause. The glow of the blood seemed to peer past the skin, before fading in some places and intensifying at wounds. At Jerod's thigh, blood flowed quickly; enough to make the details below where skin should've been unclear. Jerod began to hiss in pain, prompting Reya to offer her hand to hold, and for all the other mages involved to glance worryingly, pleadingly, and slightly accusingly at Xander.
The Left Hand ignored them, blood-red eyes glowing intensely. The glowing at the rest of Jerod's body disappeared, and now Jerod's thigh would could be said to be truly shining. The boy's hissing turned to a restrained mewl, then his eyes snapped wide open as he cried in pain. Said pain vanished along with the red glow, however, and Jerod's breathing slowed.
"Jerod?" Reya's question didn't need precision.
"My.. my leg..." Jerod's eyes showed wonder as a slight smile spread on his face. They then closed as Jerod went back to sleep, exhausted.
Xander put a hand to the healed muscle and grinned when Jerod made no reaction.
"Welp, good as new," the Left Hand announced, "We have a waterskin in one of the bags. Capped with an almost red leather head. Empty it out before you sleep; he'll probably be asleep for a while, and I'd rather not have healed a man to have him die of dehydration a few hours after the fact."
Reya nodded and went off to collect said waterskin, all the while Cyrus and Sylas gaped at the display.
"By the way, Sylas," What remained of the blood Xander controlled - a handful that slithered through the air - gathered in a ring at Xander's hand, "You could steal my magic and get a head start. Dunno if you'd be able to learn quickly, bu-"
Xander's speech was cut off by a surprised yelp as Sylas took his hemomancy. The red in the Left Hand's eyes faded momentarily as Sylas' chains grew. After a second of contact, Xander forced Sylas' grip off him, cradling where Sylas held him as it stung in pain. Still, the Left Hand chuckled with Sylas as he took control of the sliver of blood, quickly picking up the basics and controlling it with hand motions.
Sylas' playing stopped at a moment, however, "I don't suppose one of you could get a scar so I can try practice this?"
Xander gave a chiding smirk, channeling his own hemomancy and stealing control over Sylas' blood, "Yeah, no. And if I wake up with a bloody nose, sorry, but I'm reciprocating."
With a grunt of effort, Sylas pulled the blood back. The Left Hand's smirk widened, first to cheshire levels as he pulled for control again, then to shit-eating levels by the third repetition. Though Sylas grimaced deeper with each pull, a sort of friendly competitive spirit sparked in his eyes - at least, Xander hoped it was friendly.
At the final pull, the Left Hand tried a different tactic than strength. Pulling the blood with more force than he'd used prior, Xander pulled the blood not just to his hand, but to a specific finger, from which he sucked. Despite being doused in the red liquid, when the Left Hand was done, there was little indication of the blood's previous existence; save for the deeper red his eyes thus glowed.
Cyrus clearly was affected, audibly squirming at the vampiric display. Sylas saw past the ploy, though.
"If you want to disgust me, you'll have to try far harder," the revolutionary taunted, "I've eaten rats raw."
"Something I, even with my deep well of experiences, have never done, and never hope to do," Xander conceded, "So... you're not just a thief. You're a natural sponge for magic, and absorbing it gives you natural mechanical skill..."
"Rather irritating," Cyrus mused, "Seeing him fling fire around when I'd just explode in my face... Though, fire probably isn't a good comparison for blood."
"Hydromancy was a rather simple pick-up as well," Sylas pointed out smugly.
Xander scoffed, then feigned a disappointing sigh, "Sadly having a strong grip on blood isn't enough for effective healing. You might be able to get the offensive stuff down, and maybe heal minor scars quicker than I, but complex wounds like bone and organ damage? Not to mention using blood for strengthening..."
Sylas raised an eyebrow, "Strengthening?"
"Not all of us can become bodybuilders on a rat diet," Xander jested, "I'm decently strong, but to deal with tough shitters like you and Garen Crownguard, and hell, Darius... yeah, magic steroids are kind of a necessity."
The Left Hand glanced to Sylas' muscles, their shapes visible even with the robes over them, "And now I've gone and thrown that advantage away. Or, I will... I suppose we'll see how well you pick up that in the future. That said, until we meet back with Erret's girlfriend at Sharpstem, and unless I'm the one needing it, I'll take care of healing-"
A low mumble caught Xander's attention, stopping his speech. He, Sylas, and Cyrus looked to the shifted form of Aislynn, curled up on one side facingthe cave walls. With a grimace on his face, Xander leaned down and gently pulled Aislynn onto her back. The other dream mage whimpered, and Xander noticed a low glow visible under her eyelids.
"N-no..." Aislynn's legs jittered, and she shifted again, "G-get... way."
"A nightmare?" Cyrus questioned, "But..."
"She had some a few nights after we escaped the capitol," Sylas recalled, "I did find it odd; you'd think a dream mage wouldn't have nightmares, but..."
"You'd be surprised; I've had a few dreams start out as nightmares before," Xander noted, glancing to Sylas, "They happened only after I got knocked out; if I go to sleep on my own terms I'm immediately lucid in the dream world. If someone makes me go to sleep before hand..."
"Or if you're emotionally drained, and wander into sleep without noticing?" Sylas suggested.
"That works..." Xander retracted his gaze quickly before kneeling with a frown, "Hmm... well, dream mages naturally get lucid quickly. According to Nocturne, Aislynn was able to see through a dream of his making; noticed off details..."
Sylas crossed his arms, "But nobody else forced a dream on her."
Xander could feel Sylas' gaze on him, so he quickly answered, "No, but she is using her magic."
The Left Hand scrambled across the floor - pausing only to let Reya back through to her brother - and picked up his sleeping bag. He swiftly set his bag next to Aislynn's, channeled his magic to his hand, traced a glyph over her head, then finally settled into his sleeping bag.
Sylas frowned, "What are you doing?"
"Worst case scenario, she's unconsciously using her magic to perpetuate her own nightmare... best case scenario my showing up alerts her to her dream state, and she's able to pull herself out of this mess," Xander shrugged as he traced the same glyph he had previously over his own forehead, "Either way, if you want to follow me, you can figure it out. And either way, put it on my tab."
The sight of Cyrus' concerned gaze falling on Sylas' irritated expression was the last thing Xander saw before the darkness overtook him.
I somehow doubt this'll be enough to get through to you, Sylas, but if you don't mind...
Heh, whatever. Win or lose, I'll get to punt Vayne in the face again. So worth it, right?
Hide.
The thought pierced through the panic of Aislynn's mind like lightning through a cloud. Her legs begged to stop, and she desperately needed to relieve that tension in her chest... It didn't make any sense, though: they would surely find her, and stopping to hide would lose Aislynn her head start. There was a reason she was running; stopping would surely result in her death...
And yet, she felt her legs slowing, and her eyes trying to focus into the dark. It seemed her body had made the choice for her.
But where could she hide? The hunter likely knew every corner of the forest, and whilst she could barely avoid stray roots and shrubs. If only she had...
... light?
It was cold and somehow glaring and displeasing to look at, not at all like the warmth of sunlight, or even the soothing blues of moonlight. It barely shone in the forest as well, only emanating from some tiny source at the root of a tree. It did illuminate said tree, however, showing some sort of cavernous hole within to hide within. But if she hid there...
... fuck it.
From her sprint, Aislynn swerved to the light. She tripped on a root, but was quick to scramble and put her back to the tree. Her forearms stung from the landing, but only for a second; her mind, running a mile a minute, passed that pain quickly. Catching her breath as she glanced from her cover, Aislynn felt her panic fade. Dread remained, threatening to bubble back to the surface, but it was better than the mania from her sprint. With a clearer mind, Aislynn glanced to the light, then flinched.
An iPhone?! W-where the hell did it even come from?
She didn't know it was whether from exhaustion or the realisation, but Aislynn fell to a knee. It only allowed her to reach at the phone quicker, but after she'd picked it up leaning back against the wood was an almost brutal task. With a muffled grunt of effort, she achieved her goal, then glanced to the phone.
Aislynn widened her eyes as she read the screen. An irritated grimace spread across her face as an insult broke Aislynn's daze of fear.
"If I weren't concerned (and amused), I'd be severely disappointed. Duck." Alright now, who the-
The whistling of wind made Aislynn acquiesce to the phone's command with a yelp of panic. A bolt struck where her head had been, the sound of it piercing a wooden frame filling the dream mage with the fear that had temporarily left her. Looking up, the dread that had bubbled within rose with a moan of terrified despair; Aislynn beheld the visage of Vayne and three, faceless Mageseekers glaring her down.
"Nowhere to run," Vayne taunted.
Aislynn doubted that, standing up and backing away-
She tripped and fell on her ass as the wood behind her gave way to bright lights. Despite that, it didn't hurt: whatever she'd landed on was soft and able to absorb her fall. That sensation was barely registered as Aislynn scooched further away from Vayne, whose confused face was illuminated by that cold, artificial lig-
Wait, artifi... Aislynn glanced to the floor she sat under and gaped, Rubber?! Wait, what is... no, don't tell me, is this a-
A familiar chuckle filled Aislynn's ears as the toxic smell of burning filled her nose, "Took you long enough."
Xander's chuckles grew to bold laughter as he walked into frame. The Left Hand was garbed in a set of his Noxian gear, only coloured in a Demacian palette. In his hands was a staff of some kind, its head glowing with a golden glow that could only be described as divine.
"I suspect because you didn't realise you were asleep, your dream magic only made these nightmares worse," Xander assumed, "If you noticed, I imagine you could've had your fun. But alas, I think I'll have my own fun."
"This is a dream... oi, this is my dream!" Aislynn rose, her body suddenly refreshed, "I can deal with i-"
The whistle of arrows filled the air, and Aislynn instinctively flinched. It meant little, however: a pillar of light shone from some upper area, cutting off Vayne's bolts. Xander smugly stepped forward.
He cleared his throat, took on an accent, then spoke, "Dajaku, dajaku!"
After stamping his staff into the ground, a sun burst into existence above Aislynn's hunters. The dream mage watched as the orb of light poured its power down in a pillar of fire. Vayne and the mageseekers screamed in pain, and when the light faded, naught but ash remained. Xander waved away his staff, the golden stick disappearing in a flurry of glitter; the motion shut the wooden doors closed.
"And yes, I was a weeb in my first life, thanks for asking," Xander jested, before motioning to a conjured-up set of chairs and a table, "Now, shall we?"
Aislynn blinked, huffed, then sighed, "A-alright. What the hell..."
After sitting at those chairs, Aislynn conceded, "Thanks for the save, I suppose. I mean, it's just a dream and all, but..."
"Of course, of course," Xander didn't press further, instead snapping his fingers to bring up a glass of fresh water, "Drinks?"
"I... suppose water'll be fine," Aislynn frowned, "... do you have anyway to tell the outside world that my physical body needs water?"
Xander traced a spell in air, spoke the query aloud, then chuckled, "Didn't figure that one out till Noxus."
"That so," Aislynn raised an eyebrow, then shook her head as an embarrassing thought came to her, "... is it normal for dream mages to have nightmares?"
"Normally, no. At least from my experience, we're too naturally lucid for that... on average. From what Sylas told me-"
"Wait, Sylas?" Aislynn blinked, then sulked, "... oh, right. Sorry, just forgot-"
"How you drifted to sleep after a panic attack? Given how exhausted you'd be, not to mention the stresses that came before hand, it only makes sense. And given that unawareness, well, suddenly falling into a nightmare makes complete sense," the smile Xander held turned mischievous, "Though, as if the question of who's a more competent dream mage wasn't so clear cut before..."
"At least from my experience, you said," Aislynn noted, "You've had these before."
"Then I will say you're smart enough to bridge the gap and call it even," The Left Hand's smirk maintained, "And from there, I'd say to ask who's a better combatant would be insulting to me, so yeah."
"With all this bragging, I'd think you're compensating," Aislynn shot back, though internally some level of envy tickled her heart.
"I can't even deny that," the Left Hand admitted, before glancing to the side, "... I thought Sylas already dealt with her."
"Her?"
Aislynn followed Xander's gaze and blanched. Though trapped in some mystical glass cage, Vayne - or rather, the Vayne from her dream - glared silently at her. The mageseekers who shared her cell beat against their confines, but Vayne... she stood silently, radiating cold malice behind her red shades. Even knowing it to be a nightmare, and even in safety behind Xander's shields, Aislynn felt that familiar dread seethe from her core.
"... ah..." Aislynn shifted her gaze from the night hunter, "Just because Sylas could've protected me doesn't mean Vayne would be less dangerous."
Xander squinted with amusement, "... That's just not how it works; Sylas protecting you makes Vayne - and anyone else - less dangerous."
"Ah, well... touché," Aislynn conceded, "Guess I'm still rattled by that whole experience. Well, I suppose since you're here, you dealt with Vayne, so I won't ever have to deal with that... unless I'm dead, and this is some twisted heaven."
"Eh-heh... well, you're not dead..."
"But neither's she," Aislynn frowned, her gaze taking a bitter glint, "Why?"
"Well, why'd you think? It's me, after all," Xander shook his head, "... I assure you she won't be bothering us any time soon. She's off being useful, dealing with actual monsters; as long as we don't head back north for the next few months, we'll be fine. Odds are, she'll get killed by the target I've given her, or maybe by a roving raiding party."
"Yeah, Vayne being killed out of sight. I'll doubt that, thank you very much."
"Apologies."
"It doesn't matter," Aislynn shrunk, sulking into her seat, "What's done is done. As much as I don't believe you, all I can do is trust you made the right choice."
"Right..." A concerned glint rose in Xander's eyes, "Still scared of her?"
"Why shouldn't I be?" Aislynn shrugged, despite the discomfort itching at her, "They're dangerous; the mageseekers, the army, Vayne... I'm still going to fight them, but... Gods, I don't like to think about it. When I don't think about it, makes it easier."
"Yeah, that makes sense," Xander chuckled bitterly, "I mean, to deal with Noxian politics I literally had my other demon buddy drain my memories, so... yeah, not thinking about that shit..."
"Easier to run," Aislynn summed up. After a pause she stood up, "But, I suppose I can't run forever."
"Oh?" Xander was quick to follow, "What ever do you mean?"
Aislynn stopped before Vayne, Xander's barrier the only thing between the dream mage and... her. She slowly breathed, then commanded, "Bring down these shields."
"We-heh-hell..." Xander smiled, but there seemed to be a grimace behind it, "If you insist, but there is such a thing as pacing. Maybe you'd want-"
"I could, but we don't have the time for that," Aislynn steeled herself. The last bits of doubt closed her eyes, but with them gone Aislynn found the will within her to conjure a sword in her hand - one serrated and black, dripping with as much hate as she could muster, "Open. The barrier."
"Mmm... I don't know," Xander hesitated, "Say... what do you think?"
Who are you talking to- Aislynn's breath hitched as she realized the only possible answer to her question. She turned, disbelieving, No. No, you surely wouldn't've...
Of course, Xander did. A tight frown graced their new guest's face, though Aislynn couldn't imagine it was because of her.
Sylas proved her right, addressing Xander first, "I think, firstly, that you're a pain in the ass."
Xander scoffed, amused, "And secondly?"
Sylas' gaze travelled to Aislynn, and the dream mage tensed. She vowed not to bend to Sylas, yet it was hard to tell if she was succeeding. The Unshackled held an odd mixture of emotions in his expression; there was some dismay, yet hesitance to act on it, implying that Sylas didn't mind her dealing with this apparition of Vayne. Speaking of the apparition, Sylas clearly caught glance of it over Aislynn; an all-too-familiar anger rose beneath, but Sylas still didn't act.
Eventually, the revolutionary let out a displeased sigh, unable to decide for himself, "You're not a killer, Aislynn. But if you want to be, I see no reason to stop you."
"It is just a dream. This isn't Vayne..." Aislynn tightened her grip on her sword, "Xander."
"Right, right," the Left Hand raised a hand, and the light barrier faded, "Go on, then. Slay your demons, and... we'll see what happens."
With that, Aislynn stepped forward. Even as her grip shifted at meeting Vayne's glare, the dream mage raised her blade to her side. She grit her teeth as she prepared to swing, forcing herself to remember the horrors of the revolution thus far. Her veins felt the familiar burn of petricite, her heart the anguish of loss and fear and helplessness... Aislynn remembered the faces of each fallen friend, and who killed them. The mages who fought with Sylas before they split, the friends Aislynn led back at Uwendale... All those tragic dead, and for what?
Aislynn grimaced at the realisation, "Why? Why do you people do this?"
"You know why," Vayne smiled cruelly, "I don't need to confess: I already have."
Aislynn frowned in understanding. She knew: her friends slain because they believed they were Demacian, and because others disagreed. At least, those slain by the Mageseekers were. Vayne's unabashed grin reminded Aislynn of that horrifying truth she'd been revealed. Perhaps Sylas was going too far, or not. Perhaps the king and his nobles should be spared and bargained with, or not. But Vayne... the existence of monsters like her in this kingdom... it couldn't be allowed to continue.
"At least, if she is a monster," Xander mused aloud, chilling Aislynn's blood as she realised she'd been read like a book, "But... well, when you look at her, what do you see?"
Clearly what I see and what you do differ. Hell, I should ask you that question...
But what do you see? You know things I don't... no. No secret could justify acting how Vayne does. No motive, no backstory...
Sylas stepped forward to interrupt Xander's question, but Aislynn answered it anyway.
"It's as you say, she's a monster," Aislynn mumbled, "It's not just about doing what she thinks is right. She knows what she is, and she doesn't care; she... she enjoys committing evil acts. I'm going to kill her; if not in reality, at least in this dream..."
"So... You've come to that conclusion; instead of clinging to pacifism, you'll fight?"
"I'd rather never have to. Hopefully, I never will. But for Vayne, and those like her," Aislynn sighed, steeled herself, and raised her sword a final time, "For those like her... you can't reason with monsters."
The blade fell. Black bit into steel and shattered glass. Eyes wide with fear fell. And... and...
A flash of red covered Aislynn's vision. The feeling of a sudden gale covered her, and when both the breeze and blood fell away, Aislynn found herself in a lavish lounge. Brown couches surrounded a coffee table situated on black stone. The warm glow of twilight shone through a window through which a massive stone fortress could be seen.
Sylas glanced around, alarmed at the sudden shift of scene, "What is this place?"
"My home at Noxus Prime."
Aislynn found Xander leaning against a staircase to the side, arms crossed, "Well, the interior is. I chose this place since... well, it's my house, and after that display I think some relaxation is needed."
"In a Noxian house," Sylas crossed his arms, but then took closer looks at the furnishings around him, "Well, it is comfier than a cave hideout."
"I'd hope so. I worked my ass off to achieve this back in reality. But, since it's a dream, you can go off to anywhere you'd like, do anything you'd like. If you'd like to stay, however, I've got cured meats and wine in the cupboard behind you. Also, at the bottom of said cupboard, I've got an Ixtali delicacy that I'm certain will be a hit. It's called chocolate, give it a shot," Xander winked conspiratorially at Aislynn before taking a step up the stairs, "Regardless, I'll be up here. Got notes to deal with."
"Notes?" Aislynn approached, "You... er..."
"Heh, you're right, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that," Xander laughed, glancing to Sylas, "Ah, well. Just because you could try find where I'm storing it doesn't mean you'd be able to read those notes. Dealing with other demons, I've had to invest in security."
"So did the mageseekers dealing with me, yet I still broke out," Sylas scoffed, "I'll take that as a challenge."
"Good luck with that," the Left Hand chuckled, "And speaking of demons, as much as it's good you're finally getting past that pacifism, Aislynn, leave the killing for me and Sylas."
"Y...yeah," Aislynn nodded, "I'll do that."
Xander saluted teasingly, then went off to his note taking.
After a pause and an exhausted sigh, Aislynn fell to one of the couches, landing with a thud and deflating the cushion with her weight. She closed her eyes.
... Fuck. Couldn't I have just had a proper, no-dream sleep for once? Couldn't the universe have just given me a break?
The sound of dripping liquid prompted Aislynn's curiosity to rise - along with her eyelids. Sylas loomed over the coffee table, pouring wine into one of two glasses that definitely weren't there earlier. The Unshackled's eyes held consideration within.
"I figured out how to conjure stuff," he noted, "Do you want anything?"
"If you could find that chocolate Xander mentioned, I'll have a try."
"Sure."
When Sylas returned, he only passed Aislynn a small flat packet. Whilst Aislynn opened the packet and began her snack, Sylas picked up his glass and finished it, all without standing.
"Not going to rest?" Aislynn asked.
"Not when our Noxian friend's made such a misplay," Sylas grinned, "I could use your help. You're the natural dream mage, after all."
"I don't know..." Aislynn swallowed a chunk of her chocolate, and though the familiar taste brought warmth to her heart, it wasn't the refreshment she wanted... "I think I'll stick around here for a bit more."
"It has been a long day," Sylas hesitated, eventually took a seat on the couch, and refilled his glass, "... I..."
"Don't congratulate me for that," Aislynn warned, "Vayne's the exception, not the norm. I'm not joining you again."
"Right, of course not," Sylas took a sip and sighed, "Even after we get back to my rebels, you won't? What would you do, then?"
"Head back to Uwendale; I'm sure Xander told you about that," Aislynn mused, "The mages we've got and their accompanying families - non-mages included - have a good thing going. A small town in a massive cavern. A hollow hill that we've made our little paradise."
"Sounds beautiful," Sylas thought aloud, "... but... no, never mind."
"Cyrus was bugging me to allot some of our steel to making a small militia before we left," Aislynn noted, "... I might take him up on that offer."
"That would be a prudent option," Sylas paused briefly, then softly reminded, "If you need someone to talk to about... well, anything. Even after all this..."
"Thank you," Aislynn understood, "For what its worth, good luck. With Xander's notes, and whatever else."
Sylas nodded graciously and grinned, "Thank you. I won't need it."
With that, Sylas went off. The rattles of his chains - still present with him, ironically, in his dream form - echoed briefly. Soon, Aislynn lay alone on that leather couch, gaze hazy as her focus faded and her mind delved inward. There was little to do but remember and think; drained as she was, she could hardly decide on a new interpretation of what had happened to her. She had made her choice, and better or worse she'd have to deal with it. Though, oddly, she deeply hoped Sylas would find something of Xander's within his subconscious realm.
Or perhaps, not oddly. For one memory stuck out: though she'd made the killing blow, something told Aislynn she hadn't killed that dream of Vayne. And in this land of dreams, only one person could've stopped her.
Author's Note: [Edit 20/03/22] - Grammatical errors corrected.