Journal Entry N-001:

It's been approximately three months since my last entry, and honestly? It hasn't been very eventful. At least, on a day-by-day basis. For the longest time it's just been wake up, spar, sleep in a cell, eat, spar again, sleep, etcetera. Still, the start of it all was significant enough to denote this new classification. So, reader mine, welcome to the Noxus section! Cos' guess where I am now.

So, to summarise what's happened since Entry E-227... The plan failed. With the Noxians focusing on Jarvan, I had to try stall them. I survived, obviously, but Jarvan was long gone when that fight finished. I can only hope having a mage save his life can convince him to actually do something about the Mageseekers. But, that already happened with Shyvana in canon. Fortune willing, I've butterfly-effect-ed enough shit to change that, but it's uncertain. I'll keep an eye on it when and where I can but... well, I've got a lot on my plate.

My last fight as a Demacian involved three one-on-fours in a row. Not exactly the untouchable record the lineage would suggest, but to be fair Pops had gone through years of gladiatorial combat before his Demacian mission. Either way, I survived. Had a not-insignificant cut on my left thigh, damn near all of my armor ruined, and a fancy cheek wound that unfortunately healed completely, but I survived.

That impressed the next warband sent my way. Not to mention the warband I'd killed were apparently disliked by their peers. This meant life numero-dos didn't end with the Epilogue track from Halo: Reach. No, I got myself a new job, or at least the start of one. The warband's boss - a big man named Gerris - figured he could make good money by taking a portion of a Reckoning citizenship package. So, every morning since healing, I was sparring with him and any other soldiers who wanted a piece. It kept me entertained, at the very least, and the feeling was mutual.

Two months later, I arrived in the big city. Noxus Prime... it's not quite like how it was Pops' memories, which is natural. Haven't seen any champions in my time here, sadly; I was hoping to randomly pass by Darius or Kled or... well, who knows? Maybe I passed by a disguised LeBlanc? Oh well. Where I'm going, I'm guaranteed to meet at least one champ.

That disappointment aside, Noxus Prime's also as terrible as Pops said. The quarters I've been living in are cramped and dusty, and every other night or so I won't be able to sleep because someone in the neighbourhood was insistent on dying loudly to his assassins. Furthermore, I'm still a second-class citizen... no, actually, I'm not even that. Until I win in at the Grand Reckoning at Noxkraya, I'm not considered citizen. Took me this long to earn myself a physical journal, never mind spare charcoal to write with. But, this was the plan, and honestly I was expecting worse. At least food's on the table; need to keep your prospect fighters fed and strong, no?

So on that note, it hasn't been all bad. All the spear training back home's paying dividends; even my trainers, who typically have the stereotypical drill sergeant shtick down, break character around me. My fellow trainees... well, some of them are nice. There're a couple of alpha dickheads, and Gerris' other prodigy is either a psychopath or just the usual quiet broody type, but I'm on good terms with everyone else. At least, enough that there'll be no hard feelings if we have to kill each other, which I suppose is the best you can hope for in Noxus.

So, for this technical family homecoming? Well, mixed reception. Lots good, more bad... but I can probably work with it. Right?

Oh please. As if I could be so lucky.

See you next log. Hopefully.

- X

"By the gods, that you, Lynn?"

"Not too loud," Aislynn leaned into the counter, voice tight, "I... my usual. Please."

Hartley acquiesced half-way; his service was too quick for what he gave to be her favoured drink. Still, the alcohol's warmth settled at the back of her throat with enough satisfaction to calm her. The calm gave way to a flood of relief and a giddy giggle. The feeling was compounded when the dream mage held her given shot glass; the same one, she realised, she'd used when she first came to Meltridge. It had been a long and brutal journey, but she was back home.

Relatively, anyway.

"Aislynn..." Hartley's whisper still conveyed concern, "You alright?"

"Never been better," Aislynn replied, mostly certain with her words' truth, "It's... been one hell of a homecoming."

"No kidding... you left for two months. Your buddies thought you were dead. So did I..." Hartley finally relaxed with a chuckle, "Glad I was wrong though."

"Feeing's mutual," Aislynn chuckled, then grimaced at her empty shot glass, "I know I've got quite the tab, but..."

"You'd have to settle that with your man Barth. He had everyone pitch in a couple coins to clear it," Hartley shrugged as he refilled the empty glass, "For today though... you seem like you need a drink."

Aislynn shook her head with a grin, "Well, maybe not need, but... thanks."

"Don't sweat it," Hartley hummed, "If I may assume, dropping off the face of the world probably didn't do wonders for your wealth."

"Not in particular," Aislynn gulped down her refill then glanced to a shadowed corner of the inn, "I know my drinks are free... how about a meal? And how about theirs?

Hartley followed Aislynn's motion and blinked, pleasantly surprised.

"...Cyrus made it too? Good man... Well, far be it from me to starve you guys. I'll get his usual," the bartender shrugged, motioned for a waiter to serve the mages, then leaned closer to Aislynn and whispered, "That said... who's the cloaked person?"

"She's... well, inclined like the rest of us, shall we say," Aislynn whispered, "But as for the rest, I'll have to keep secret. You understand, right?"

Hartley slowly nodded, poured himself a glass, then partook of his own supply.

"Yeah. More than I think you realise," Hartley chuckled humourlessly as he refilled Aislynn's glass, "I doubt she'll be performing here, but just in case, I'll have to decline. I don't need the attention."

The third shot went down quickly as Aislynn understood Hartley's words.

The giggle that left the dream mage's lips this time took on an anxious tone, "Ah... son of a bitch. The news went out that quickly? Heh, well, if we weren't in a shit show already..."

"No kidding," Hartley shrugged, "I'm sure you had your reasons... but just for business, you mind explaining said shit show?"

"It's the least I could do," the dream mage admitted, sobering up despite her alcohol intake, "So, where to start... I take it Barth told you what happened to us earlier, and why we were there?"

"Stopping a foreign incursion, shall we say?"

"... We were checking up on old friends. Some of which were admittedly foreign..."

"... are they friends?"

Aislynn grimaced, but nodded, "The native's as cranky as ever, and Xander's a piece of shit. But, they're the reason I'm alive."

"... I'm assuming Xander's our foreign guest?"

"You would be correct... as it turns out, he and our pal north weren't at each other's throats. At least, not when they came to save me," Aislynn shrugged, "We were supposed to head straight back, but we..."

"Got sidetracked?" Hartley chuckled with little humour, "Way to put it lightly. Half a garrison dead or crippled, an army sent north to deal with the issue... and The Buvelles were always the nice noble house, and now they're pissed too. But with your hostage, I imagine they won't be doing anything?"

"She isn't a hostage," Aislynn corrected with a glare, "We're offering her protection."

The bartender raised an eyebrow, "They're in on it?"

"In a sense. As it turns out, being the nice noble house makes you stick out," Aislynn frowned, "At least, that's what Xander said. Bastard convinced the two sisters to part ways; said she'd be safer under my protection. After all, nobody knows where we are, and if we actually succeed the issue should go away. Either way, the split left Kahina Buvelle to stick in line and look unassuming."

"And thus protect the rest of the family... I can't imagine the split was a happy one."

"It wasn't... and yet I didn't stop Xander..."

"Well, if you wanted to, could you have?"

Aislynn shook her head with a sigh, "Guess there's no point thinking like that... speaking of my protection, how's the hideout doing?"

"It's... still up and running, at least," Hartley answered, "Last I heard of anything there was Barth coming in and saying you were dead. After that, 'twas just the occasional visitor on leisure, not business. They didn't come as often as when you were still here."

"Well, I was the main one coming over, so that checks out," Aislynn gave a weak grin, "At the very least, I'll get you a raise."

"If you have the time to show up, it'd be appreciated. But, I'll assume you'll be busy," Hartley's smile dropped as a pensive look took over his eyes, "There have been rumors from outsiders that mages are in the area. From before your incident with the Buvelles. Seems to me that someone's been taking action."

Aislynn's brows furrowed, "Someone's been taking action? On my side?"

"Perhaps Sy sent some people your way?"

Aislynn frowned, "I think he mentioned something to that extent... someone did, in any case. I'll have to check up on that when I get back..."

"But that won't be till tomorrow? Smart," Hartley lowered his voice and glanced to the door before continuing, "I'm sure you've noticed..."

"That the town's more filled with soldiers than usual?" Aislynn nodded, "Please say that they're just heading northwest, and that this isn't a recent development."

The bartender shrugged, "If you'd asked me that four days ago? Probably, yeah. But as is, I think they're keeping a few reserves here. Thankfully they're sticking to the town, but..."

"Right," Aislynn understood with a sigh, "We'll make do. We always do."

"Perhaps, but you really ought to do more."

Aislynn flinched in surprise and turned to meet a familiar face. She didn't find one. The source of the voice she heard held an overly plain face, with dark brown hair and dull eyes. If someone were trying to paint the picture of an average peasant, Aislynn could easily imagine this face being the result.

A glance to the man's collar confirmed Aislynn's suspicions; a hastily-made necklace held a coin-sized stone of petricite that seemed to shine ever so slightly.

Aislynn recognised Xander through his illusion, but Hartley didn't, "Um, sir, I think you m-"

"I heard properly," Xander's smirk transcended his false face, "But, don't worry. Kingdom's more than the crown to me."

"Err-"

Xander flung a pouch to the bartender that clunk with gold, "I'll take your finest bottle of red. My, ahem, mistress only takes the best."

"Mistress?" Aislynn raised an eyebrow, "Do tell?"

"A thorny rose, but she seems a decent lady," Xander pinched his petricite charm as he met Hartley's gaze, "Your client's in safe hands. Now, please move along. Quicker I get my drink, quicker I leave."

Hartley gulped, seemingly understanding, "You... alright. We'll chat later, Lynn."

"Of course," the dream mage sighed through her nose as she met her Noxian counterpart's gaze, "Must you insist on being an absolute dick?"

Xander shrugged, "Good evening to you too."

Aislynn snorted, "You too. Nice face, where'd you get it?"

"Where'd you think?" the Noxian dream mage rolled his eyes, "It's basically a pre-requisite to have one of these for eastern politics. Of course, in combat it's better to have a solid mask than a fake one, so I haven't been using it much."

"Can't you use both?"

"Yeah, but the necklace makes it fly a bunch. Rather not give my enemies something to choke me with."

"Fair enough," Aislynn downed the rest of her drink then sent a hard look Xander's way, "So... Why're you here?"

"I'm just checking in on you and Sona," Xander explained, "... and yes, I'm also scouting out the increased military presence here."

"Never so simple with you, huh?"

"You know me."

"Right... but, we're fine. There's no need to worry... I think..." Aislynn pondered the topic further and found nothing at the hideout could be a source of trouble.

She then looked in front of her, "You're not going to attack Meltridge, are you?"

"Wha- no, of course not! I'm a dick, not an idiot," Xander's lips curled in offence, "That would only give the crown more support... though admittedly it would make them panic..."

"... You're not going to attack Meltridge."

"No, ma'am."

"Good," Aislynn sighed, "We have enough issues as is."

"Like convincing your side to actually do something about your new visitors?"

The Demacian dream mage glared at her Noxian counterpart.

Xander only shrugged, "It'll have to happen eventually. Hell, with the uptake of men you can change that to 'soon'."

Aislynn did not deign answer; at least, not verbally. She nodded grimly, gazing out to the bar to distract herself. Though it was a busy night racous with activity, notable amidst the crowd of the Misty Ridge was a squad of loyalist soldiers. They thankfully at the farthest corner away from Sona and Cyrus, but-

"How is she?"

Aislynn blinked and glanced to Xander for clarification.

"I can't imagine Sona's taking being separated from her sister well," Xander spoke monotonously as his gaze matched Aislynn's.

Disgust twitched within Aislynn's heart before it seeped into her voice, "She isn't, but you already knew that. Since you can't do anything to change it, I don't see why you'd bring it up."

"Just... concerned," Xander tore his gaze away from the other mages' table before donning a smirk, "After all, it would suck if all the shit we did west led to nothing."

Aislynn frowned, choosing to let the silence speak for her. Only for a few moments did Xander's facade stand, but even as it faded it was only by half. His gaze fell, and his lips relaxed, but his mood seemed more musing than disappointed.

"So, did anything come up from her displeasure?"

"For a moment," Aislynn admitted through a reminder of rage, "We nearly turned the opposite direction when she demanded; Cyrus was all for following her. But, he ended up convincing her against that idea."

Xander hummed, "He's... taken a liking to her?"

Aislynn's anger faded and her eyebrows rose, "... No? I don't believe so. He's always, err, how do I say it..."

"Wannabe knight, always looking to save the damsel?" Xander's smirk returned, but this time Aislynn's lips threatened to mimic his, "Next time you get the chance, please do check in on his dreams?"

Aislynn shook her head, but the tempting thoughts within still lingered.

"You're a terrible influence on me," she admitted.

"What, you thought Noc and I's sign-language lessons came for free?" Xander mirrored her action with a smile, "Well, maybe not next time you dream. The Fr- northerners, ahem, were looking for you last meeting. I know it doesn't really affect us at current, but I'd appreciate it if you reported in."

And just like that, the amiability Aislynn felt faded away, "Do I have to?"

"It'd be less suspicious, I think," the Noxian's eyes softened ever so slightly in understanding, "I get it, you don't like them, but the less they realise that, the less risky it'll be to turn tail on them when we have to. So, please?"

Aislynn sighed, "Do we have to keep working with them?"

Xander mirrored her action as he answered, "Yes, unfortunately. Sy's pretty keen on that. And they are still quite useful..."

"And when they're not? Or worse, a detriment?"

"What do you think?"

Aislynn snorted, but didn't press the questioning further. She could already see the end of the current loop; there was nothing left to say. Xander seemed slightly dissapointed with that ending, a musing chuckling leaving his lips as he stood and collected from Hartley the bottle he requested. He bid the bartender thanks and was half way through turning away before Aislynn spoke up again.

"... Fine," the dream mage conceded, "I'll show up next meeting... or at least, I'll try to."

"Much appreciated," Xander nodded, "I'll send Nocturne to check up on you when you're ready. Good luck on your end."

Aislynn let her expression soften as she looked to the dream mage, "I'd say same to you, but would you need it?"

"Maybe not," the Noxian shrugged, "Still, I'd like it."

The rebel dream mage took on a playful smile, "Then take it and get on out of here."

Xander laughed and gave a feigned salute, "Have a good evening."

"You too."

With that, the Noxian faded into the crowd, unnoticed. A veritable wolf in sheep's clothing... but, considering all the other elements in the crowd - from the ravenous raptors in the corner, to the... magical sheep? Rams? Aislynn couldn't decide what farm animal best matched mages - the metaphor fell apart quickly.

A tired groan left the dream mage's lips, and her half-smile dripped off her face like rain. She may have been back home, but that didn't make anything less complicated.

As the cold wind of early winter licked his face, Garen felt his mind wander to the past. He was about seven years old the first time his father discussed stewardship with him; it was a common tradition of the Crownguards' for an heir, at a certain age, to rule one of the towns near High Silvermere to learn the skills of management and leadership. His father had then asked him which town he'd have preferred to rule. It took until the third time he asked when Garen was fifteen for the Crownguard scion to have any sort of answer.

That simply being: not Falconclaw.

Despite the imposing name, none of the town's features appealed to Garen. Sure, it had a small barracks within its walls, but it wasn't the full-fledged training academy at Argenta, never mind the Raptor Knight outpost at Skye's Watch. It had the hallmarks of a great Demacian town, but ultimately it was a trade hub, and not much else.

That made the sight Garen beheld only more disheartening.

It wasn't a ruin - far from it, thankfully - but there were many wartime discrepancies around the town. The usually scenic, peaceful roads that lead up to it were worn with recent overuse, stray bricks and stones littering the fields around them. Speaking of those fields, one that likely could've made a tourist trap with its beautiful view of the nearby Ironspike Rivers was instead converted into a makeshift camp, where wounded lay. Those not sat by campfire seemed constantly on patrol, both out of and inside the town. Just entering Falconclaw, Garen had greeted three separate sorties and relieved them of duty for the day; from their beat-up armor and exhausted posture, it seemed to the Dauntless Captain like they needed it.

"Lady Kahina isn't the type to overwork her men," Sergeant Merrek had noted by the second patrol.

"Not normally, but recent days have been far from that," Alys Morn had countered.

With vitriol completely alien to her character, Lux had then cursed, "Damn Nocturne... and his enabler."

Garen had flinched at the poison of his sister's words, but couldn't bring himself to speak. That even the Lady of Luminosity couldn't remain reserved at the sight of Falconclaw's dread-filled populace spoke volumes. There wasn't need for further discussion, especially with the risk of even mentioning the demon causing a panic. The last thing Garen wanted was to make the lives of the current garrison harder.

Speaking of them...

If her appearance didn't clue him in, Garen would've known Quinn to be out of sorts simply by her not greeting him. The usually calm and confident ranger stiffly sat in a corner of the outpost's mess hall, coordinating with a set of sergeants half partaking in dinner. Bags under her eyes spoke of quite a deep exhaustion; where in any other time Garen knew Quinn would be wishing for the wilderness she loved so much, now he imagined she'd be happy with a jail cell, as long as it had a bunk to sleep in.

"If all you found nothing, maybe. But, if you found empty boxes in that basin then the Mages are long gone," the ranger pinched the bridge of her nose as she addressed the soldiers, "Just... recall everyone."

One of the sergeants raised a hand, "But ma'am-"

"The mages are notoriously good at covering their tracks, and that's assuming they left by ground. We've already got what supplies they couldn't bring along, so just confiscate or burn the damn things and be done with it," irritation rose up in Quinn's tone as she explained, "All searching will do now is increase our chances of starting a panic; it's gone long enough as is..."

The same sergeant was about to start again, but Garen took his chance to cut in.

He cleared his throat then began, "Overworking your men will only make your force weaker, too."

Quinn blinked, turning her attention to the vanguard, "... Garen? What are you doing here?"

The sergeant from before seemed even more shocked, "Captain Garen? Of the Dauntless?"

"Not just me," Shield-Sergeant Merrek interjected with a chuckle, ushering in the rest of the guard into the mess hall, "You got the rest of us too."

"We heard the news about the attack. Thought we could offer our help," Alys Morn mused, standing by Garen, "That, and Falconclaw's on the way to High Silvermere. Though, perhaps we shouldn't have. You seem like you're plenty busy as is."

Quinn let out a sigh of exhaustion, "... Yeah, no kidding. I'm supposed to be a scout. Not all... this."

Garen chuckled, "Well, I'm supposed to be all this. Not that I like it, but... well, you need to rest. I can take over for a bit."

The garrison sergeant made their presence known again, "It would be an honour-"

"So quick to get rid of me, huh?" Quinn jested, shaking her head lazily, "Well, it would do wonders for morale. But first, Kahina will want to see you. At least to know you're there."

"That would be prudent," the Vanguard Captain said before turning to his men, "Merrek, Alys, confer with these men on the situation. We'll get started after I've met with Lady Kahina. Rest of you sit tight, await further orders."

"And me?" Lux broke through her escort with calm confidence... or at least, an attempt at it, "If I'm to be queen, well... it would do well for me to be seen helping the town, right?"

Before Garen could answer his sister's question, the gathered sergeants proved her theory correct.

"Even if you weren't to be queen, your kind heart would surely raise spirits," one of the other sergeants praised.

"The town itself is largely safe, so there should be no risk," another noted.

The sergeant from before addressed the local authority, "Captain Crownguard, if you would allow us, we can escort your sister as she addresses the common folk."

Garen shook his head with a chuckle. Even after all these years, it was amusing how easily Lux drew attention and admiration. The citizens of Falconclaw likely would feel the same, and if the garrison sergeants were correct, there wasn't a risk...

The Crownguard nodded, "I see no reason to complain-"

"I-" Quinn stopped herself from continuing, but relented when the gathered men looked to her. She continued her interruption, "I believe Lady Kahina would like to see you as well, Lux. You know each other, right?"

Enthusiastically, Lux gave a summary to her and the Buvelle scion's relationship; how she'd met her whilst working with the Illuminators, and what Kahina had taught her. As brief as the explanation was, however, Garen didn't hear a word of it. The Vanguard Captain locked eyes with Quinn and noted the concern in her eyes. It bordered on panic...

Garen sent a sideways glance to the doorway of the outpost. The only shades of blue present were default Demacian. The only shades of grey were dull stone. And yet...

"Bring us to Kahina."

Quinn nodded wordlessly and lead the Crownguards. By the second set of stairs, Lux had clued in to the issue, and her smile had faded. Or at least, she knew something was up. Garen cursed internally and added counting the shadows through each window, along with the blue cloaks that were appearing in more frequency across the streets of Falconclaw. When he put away the theory of the demon still being at Falconclaw, maps, paths and dates flew through the Vanguard Captain's mind.

Lord Eldred can't be here, can he? It would've been faster to go from Pinara and Velorus then to High Silvermere than to detour at Falconclaw. Especially for them, since he's coming up from the Capital. And the patrols would've mentioned something...

But, this place was attacked by a mage. By Sylas, no less. And a demon...

Garen was brought back to reality by a series of short knocks echoing off wood. Clearly a code of some kind, Quinn waited for a reply by pressing her right ear to the crack of the door. The response that came was muffled, but whatever it was Quinn took her queue and opened the door.

It revealed that Kahina Buvelle wasn't alone.

"Captain Garen?" the warm black eyes of Demacia's Seneschal, Xin Zhao, nearly put Garen's mind at ease, "And Lady Luxanna... I'd have thought you'd have returned home to High Silvermere."

"We heard of the attack here and thought we could lend a helping hand," Lux explained, "I see you thought the same."

Xin Zhao smiled and complimented Lux, rising from his seat to properly greet her, but again the words that left his lips didn't enter Garen's ears. Again, he instead looked to the local garrison leader. In every way Quinn's looks were disturbing, Kahina Buvelle outdid her. Far from the virtuous, steadfast warrior with a confident smile Garen knew, the version of Kahina before Garen was trapped between despondency and bitter rage. Tired bloodshot eyes and a deep grimace were barely perceptible in the shadows of the office, and Kahina's stiff posture only worsened the image.

"Garen..." Whatever her train of thought was, Kahina cut it off with a bitter chuckle, "Well, better that you're here than in Silvermere. Be more of use..."

"Kahina? You look terrible," what little positivity remained in the room faded away with Lux's gasp, "W... what happened?"

The anger in Kahina's eyes heightened for a brief moment before being drowned in shame. The scion of the Buvelles looked away with a sigh. No answer left her lips.

Quinn instead took over, "I... I'm sure you've heard the rumours. About Sona?"

"Sona... your sister," Garen recalled with a furrowed brow, "The rumours were true?"

"The locals confirmed it," Xin Zhao said, "Just a few days before Sylas' local attack, Sona had a performance here."

"I... I came here to look for her," Kahina finally spoke, "I couldn't find her."

The puzzle pieces snapped into place in Garen's mind, and his heart twitched with pain. The rage in Kahina's eyes, Sylas' attack, and now this... It seemed to Garen that his greatest fear was Kahina's reality. There was nothing to say to that.

"Sona..." Lux's eyes widened in disbelief, "No... no, but even he wouldn't-"

"He would," Garen closed his eyes and his fists.

The muscles in use tightened as righteous fury burned in Garen's heart. And yet, as it was it might as well have been spent ash. Still, no words could leave Garen's lips.

Lux did, however, simple and expected they were, "Kahina, I'm so sorry..."

As Garen's anger cooled, he added to Lux's promise with one of his own, "Kahina... I swear to you: I will see justice done."

Kahina sent a tired, disappointed gaze to Garen, but nodded.

"Thank you, both of you... but there's more to be done than that," the Buvelle scion brushed off her personal issues with what seemed to be great effort, "The people are scared, wars in winter never bode well... and Lord Xin Zhao isn't here for Sylas, after all."

Xin Zhao at least had the decency to show his shame for a moment before stepping past Kahina's tragedy.

"Right... Jarvan sent the task force here to deal with the northern raiders. By the time the reports reach him, I imagine the rebels will also be our responsibility, due to proximity... but for now, I will be prioritising our foreign foes; bringing the fight to them" Xin Zhao turned to Lux after his summary, "Until someone else takes command, Lady Kahina will hold off on returning to Brightpride, and help with the defence... that and keeping the people's spirits up."

"Though I'm decent at both, I'm more suited for martial matters than the humanitarian part. Despite my best effort," the Radiant Knight mused with a sigh, "But from what I recall, the reverse could be said of you, Lux. No offence but I doubt that's changed. Unless you're really here to swing a sword?"

"Despite my best effort, I'm afraid not," an amiable smile hardened to dutiful eagerness on Lux's face, "What can I do?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, all things considered," Kahina shrugged, "It'll be much the same as with Terbisia. Quinn can direct you to my second, Damian, for specifics. Or, do you remember him?"

"I think so. I'll get right on it."

Lux turned for the door, but stopped a step away to address Kahina a final time. She looked back with eyes filled with concern and a sad smile.

"And Kahina... take care of yourself. Sona wouldn't want you to suffer like this."

"I..." Kahina sighed, but nodded, "I'll try."

Lux left the office soon after, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

One that Xin Zhao was quick to dismiss, "You do need rest, Lady Kahina... Shall we finish up?"

The Radiant Knight leaned against her officer's chair, "Go ahead, Lord Xin Zhao."

The Seneschal nodded, took his seat, then turned his attention to Garen, "Captain, you were there when the raiders first broke through at Aron's Defiance. Did you notice anything about them?"

Quinn was quick to add, "Which tribe were they from?"

Garen himself couldn't say, but he had asked the guards at Aron's Defiance for the answer to that question, "Our reports are mixed. The experts at Aron's Defiance counted at least three separate tribes in the raiding party based on clothing and arms. But, most commonly identified were traits belonging to a tribe known as the Winter's Claw."

"Winter's Claw... that does fit in with their culture," Quinn noted, "My local sources say those under their faction are the most warlike of the Freljordians."

Kahina raised an eyebrow, "Faction?"

Quinn shrugged, "They're a collection of tribes rather than one. From what I've heard at least."

"Multiple tribes... then they came to Aron's Defiance en masse?" Xin Zhao assumed.

Garen shook his head and answered, "Not from what I heard. The raiding party was of average size according to the defenders at Aron's Defiance. A bit more battle hardened, but by numbers it should've been a trivial defence."

"And yet the castle fell..." Kahina squinted, "The Freljordian raiders were that skilled?"

"It wasn't the individual worth of their soldiers that lost us the day," the Vanguard Captain continued, "They were organised. More akin to a Noxian Warhost than raiding tribesmen. They formed ranks, used their boar cavalry efficiently rather than the reactionary flanking they usually employed. My men noted that they'd retreat at the hint of a return charge and meet our counters with some of their own."

Xin Zhao raised an eyebrow, "Your men noted that?"

"I... was knocked out for most of the fight," Garen admitted sheepishly, then shuddered, "Which was the worst part. I wasn't done in by a champion on their end. No, they dropped a tower on me."

"A tower?" Quinn questioned.

"The tactics were one thing, and the organisation another. But, those raiders... they didn't use their ice mages how they usually did," Garen noted, "Reports say ice mages usually bolster themselves individually; the champions of the tribes are made up of their ranks. But at Aron's Defiance, not one of the infantry units were ice mages. Instead... I don't know which option is more terrifying; that a single powerful mage lead the assault on Aron's Defiance, or the ice mages who lead that raiding party combined their powers to bring the castle down around us."

"They combined their powers?" Quinn's confusion was heightened.

Xin Zhao's expression turned more thoughtful than it already was, "... In my time in Noxus, I heard of many specialised mage war bands concentrating their power to maximise efficiency. Water mages from the eastern seas calling upon floods large enough to wipe out city districts, fire mages concentrating their magic into single balls of fire so hot they could melt holes into city walls..."

"That's what it seemed like to me," Garen said - it wasn't the first time he'd heard the Seneschal recount his Noxian days, "But, whether it was a sole mage or a joined force, the result was the same; these Freljordians set up and properly besieged Aron's Defiance. Not just a raid. An attack."

The mental image had certainly woken Kahina up; the Radiant Knight sat straighter on her seat and cursed, "Targon's peak..."

"A remarkable change of doctrine, even if they didn't commit to it. I imagine their leadership can be credited for this, regardless of which type," After a pause, Xin Zhao turned to Quinn, "Determining exactly what we're up against will be priority one. Ranger Knight, I will need your expertise to scout them out."

Quinn nodded, "I'll head out on tomorrow's sunrise. I'll send out the word."

"Good," Xin Zhao nodded, hummed in thought, then continued, "Captain Garen, you should leave on the morrow as well, for High Silvermere. Lord Eldred will have his Mageseekers in order by now, and they will need an escort. Perhaps not the whole Dauntless Vanguard, but at least a single shield. Your uncle will also likely appreciate what you have shared with us."

Garen nodded, "Very well, then. I'll take the first and second Dauntless shields to High Silvermere. Shield-Sergeant Reika Kol will lead the remaining shields in my stead. But what of you and Lady Kahina?"

"We'll secure the Crownguard holdings before moving on north," Kahina decided, "It shouldn't take too long. The residents of Falconclaw are safe... others will be needing our aid."

"Seneschal, shouldn't you wait for my report to come in?" Quinn questioned, "A repeat of the events at Aron's Defiance might be worse on open field than from a defendable foothold."

"Indeed. The Freljordians are vicious in melee, and their cavalry is nothing to scoff at," Xin Zhao agreed, "But, I don't intend to counterattack just yet. These raiders may have learned how to more efficiently use their powers, but they won't know our land. We do, and ensuring it is working to our end will be essential."

"Securing the three-city-chain," Quinn understood with a frown, "The raiders, coming from an uncivilised north, are more likely to concern themselves with the settlements on the outskirts... giving us time to organise our defences."

Like with the last Freljordian assault, Garen recalled, Only this time the attack's on the northern end on the three-city-chain.

The three city chain referred to the series of roads between Whiterock, Grand Zeffira and High Silvermere. It was Demacia's secondary line of northern defence, and it was a reliable one, having proved itself in six great northern invasions in the two centuries since its inception. It was the first thing the late king had reinforced when the last raiding season came; after all, supplies were comparatively scarce in the north. Towns were often self-sufficient, and thus couldn't hold a defending force without starving themselves. Thus, holding the supply routes was key.

But that wasn't all there was to it. All three of the cities on the chain were excellent footholds for ranging parties. Whiterock's sheer cliffs were a brutal ascent even without defenders harassing climbers, High Silvermere's walls had never been breached by an invading army, and it had taken literal divine wrath to humble the city of Zeffira. With stable footholds, any force sent to defend the North could effectively beat the Freljordians at their own game; raiding any supply lines they hold whilst countering attacks, all without risk to logistics or a major upset.

Of course, generally speaking the three-city-chain would be ready before a breach was detected in Demacia's northern borders. Ensuring the system's efficiency might be difficult if the roads comprising it were already under assault...

The Seneschal seemed to follow Garen's train of thought, "They may come to intercept us regardless; the roads are where they are for a reason. But, we now know their tricks, and their tactics. If they seek to emulate Noxians, they will meet the same fate."

Were it an average commander, Garen wouldn't have taken the boast well. Not with how competent he knew this band of Freljordains to be. But, hearing it from the Seneschal... Well, it wasn't as though Xin Zhao hadn't fought Freljordians before.

The Dauntless Captain had faith he'd pull through.

"Alright then," Garen nodded, "I'll get the Mageseekers to the field. When we're ready to counterattack, where will we meet?"

"... Ideally, we should meet at Zeffira," Kahian suggested after a pause, "Between the sudden nature of this attack and our other issues, morale's at a concerning low... the Illuminators at Zeffira might be able to help with that."

"If our men believe the campaign is blessed, it would surely improve that issue," Xin Zhao stood up, content, "Very well then. I'll have a letter sent to the Zeffira Magistrate telling them of our plans, and inform the sergeants."

"Alright then," Kahina replied curtly, "We can reconvene tomorrow morning."

"We shall," Xin Zhao nodded, "Until then, Captain, Ranger-Knight, Radiant, get some rest. We'll be needing you at your best for this campaign."

The three knights nodded in turn, "Yes, Seneschal."

Without a word left to say, Xin Zhao left quickly. As the office door shut, Kahina let out a tired sigh. Garen took it as his cue to stand and leave himself. He couldn't imagine that the Buvelle scion or her best friend had gotten over their recent loss. He wouldn't intrude any longer-

"Garen."

The calling of his name was firm and tense. Not the hoarse, grief-filled cry that would've broken Garen's heart to hear, nor the amiable call that he hoped would somehow return. It was tense... or tempered. Like a blade freshly forged.

The Crownguard Scion slowly turned to face Kahina, "Yes?"

"Your sister..." After a pause, tired eyes relented, and Kahina turned away, "She's a good person. Always has been..."

"Kahina-"

"Don't worry about me. I'm not the one who's going to be queen," the Buvelle scion gave a weak smile, "She'll be a good one, I think. But only if she makes it there as she is. Don't let the M... don't let them get to her."

"Them..." Garen hoped the alarm in his mind didn't translate to the physical world and nodded, "Of course. I'd never... I'm her brother. I'll keep her safe no matter what."

Kahina sighed, mumbled something to herself, then nodded, "I know. I'll be seeing you."

"Of course."

As he descended the stairs of the outpost, Garen ran past each possibility, again and again. There wasn't a doubt in his head that Kahina had meant to say Mageseeker, but that begged the question of how she knew. If she knew Lux's secret. She couldn't have figured it out, could she? And if she knew, Lux hadn't told her; if the flashes of rage Kahina let out were anything to go by, she seemed...

And if not the Mageseekers, then what could she be referring to? Who else could get to Lux? And what was it she said to herself? That phrase (and it was a phrase, right?) that Garen hadn't heard clearly...

When he reached the ground floor, Garen couldn't help but send a glance back up the stairs. Nobody had trailed him, and already the silence of the offices above were giving way to the usual busy sounds of a barracks. It occured to the Dauntless Vanguard as his peers approached that if Kahina had known of Lux's true identity, she surely would've confronted her in their reunion. Garen had heard Lux's stories of her mentor, after all...

"So, Captain," Merrek crossed his arms and took on an expectant grin, "Anything new to report? Changes to the mission?"

"No... no, I think not," Garen mused, "It's... rough. Situation's dire. But, that's why we're here. Mission hasn't changed. We're heading back to High Silvermere, regrouping, then striking back at the raiders. And when we're done there-"

"We'll send Sylas' bunch to hell soon after," Alys Morn filled in.

"And save the kingdom in the process," The Dauntless Vanguard concluded, "Now, let's not tarry. We'll be heading out early tomorrow, so if we want our trip here to be worth anything, we'll need to be quick about it. Tell me what you've heard."

If she was being honest with herself, Aislynn knew she would end up in her current situation.

She'd barely kept herself together when she reached Meltridge. Ironically, she had to thank the increased garrison there for that; were the Misty Ridge as safe as it usually was, she couldn't think of anything that would keep her walls up. Even then, she'd needed a drink to keep herself grounded, and before she could calm herself Xander had to show himself. By the time that safety's comforting hug took hold her that night, sleep was close behind.

But now, back home, with only allies around her, she felt the strength of that embrace in full force.

With a literal example, no less. Cheston was the first to greet her after the border guards, and after a moment's hesitation Aislynn found herself wrapped in his arms. She was vaguely aware of Laura mimicking her brother's actions with Cyrus, but that thought faded quickly. The dream mage could only reciprocate and let the tears she'd held back finally fall.

"Gods, I thought you were dead," the musician whispered, holding tighter.

"There were times I thought I'd end up that way," Aislynn tried to ease up with a joke, only for a choked sob to follow it up, "... gods, it was..."

"It's okay. You're back. You're fine. You're with friends," Cheston released Aislynn and put his hands on her shoulder, "You're safe."

"I'm safe," Aislynn sighed, backing away with a smile as she beheld the community gathered around her - the community she had largely brought together, "I'm back home... Words don't do it justice, but... I'm glad to see all of you again."

"And we you," Laura quickly said before taking her turn to hug Aislynn.

The dream mage was nearly moved to tears a second time, but as Cheston and Cyrus reunited, the latter noticed their third member. Aislynn hugged Laura tighter and had her actions reciprocated, but it did little to dissuade the tension building in her mind. For her part, Sona didn't appear nearly so anxious. From below her hood, she looked to Cheston curiously, cautiously, and, of course, silently.

"Who..."

Recognition flashed on Cheston's face, prompting him to glance quickly to Aislynn. Thankfully, she didn't need to speak up. Cheston was quick to act on his own.

"Alright guys, you all can have your chats with Aislynn later. Give them some space," the musician took Aislynn's arm as the order was carried out, "The council was having their meeting just now. You'll need to tell them everything."

"That's the plan," Aislynn sighed, "Lead the way?"

Cheston did so at an alarming pace, parting the crowd as he pulled Aislynn along. Sona and Cyrus followed as close as they could, the former having trouble keeping up on account of her long dress and the latter having trouble due to his charge. Alas, they didn't need to struggle for long. By the time they reached the old house at the hideout's centre, the council themselves had come to meet.

As he ushered the newcomers in, the fire mage Gerold quipped, "You've been up to a lot."

"Getting broken out was the easy part, sadly," Aislynn admitted as she was guided into the cabin's meeting room.

"I'll bet. I doubt Sylas let you leave easily," mused Silva, sitting at the council table surrounded by his fellow representatives from the hideouts' farming division, "Though, forgive me for asking, was it the other way around?"

Before Aislynn could speak for herself, Cyrus interrupted, "It was the former, if you have to know. Now, shall we begin our report?"

"Perhaps you could start with our new arrival?" Cheston added.

Sensing tension behind her, Aislynn couldn't help but send a glare Cheston's way. She retracted it quickly - Cheston didn't mean offence, after all - and turned her attention to Sona. Her blue eyes had widened in panic as the rebel council looked to her, but a shared glance with Aislynn and a few short breaths were all the Maven of the Strings needed. Sona pulled her hood down, revealing her twin tails of aqua blue.

Aislynn imagined Sona immediately regretted her decision.

Someone in the room gave a low whistle, whilst others simply cursed or paled. Admittedly, their anger wasn't directed at the Buvelle mage, but that didn't stop Sona from shrinking away from the mages. Aislynn motioned for Cyrus to step in the way before addressing them.

"This is Sona Buvelle," the dream mage introduced, "She-"

"We know who she is," Silva interrupted angrily, "Why is she here?"

Aislynn opened her mouth to explain, but was interrupted.

"I thought we weren't going to pick fights with anyone," Gerold muttered, "You don't think the Buvelles are going to come for us after this?"

"They won't," Cyrus countered, "They accepted to this."

"They did, did they?" From Ramver side, Silva's bitter chuckles echoed, "After Sylas gave them a bloody nose? They'll be pissed and looking for vengeance, and they're going to-"

"Everybody be quiet!" Aislynn let silence ring after her yell for a moment, "I understand this wasn't the plan. But, as you've no doubt guessed, I've had a long journey - one where I wasn't able to make all the choices. So before you judge my actions, at least let me explain what happened. That's why this meeting's happening, isn't it?"

When no reply came, Aislynn took it as her cue to continue.

"Alright... , it was the demon host's idea," Aislynn raised a hand to mitigate the council's reaction to mere gasps, "He convinced Kahina Buvelle that Sona would be safer with us than with her. His argument was that the Mageseekers already suspected the Buvelles of... sympathies."

"So from there, just commit?" Silva assumed.

"In a sense," Aislynn admitted, "He noted that their original plan - rescuing Sona and hiding her in one of their estates - could be undone by the Mageseekers using their new authorities to investigate them on a whim. According to the demon host, the Buvelles being their rivals and Kahina's presence being suspicious on its own made failure inevitable."

Gerold frowned, "And having her here is better... how?"

"Beyond the fact that if we win Kahina Buvelle's treason is non-applicable, we're off the grid and hidden," Aislynn grimaced in recollection, "Furthermore, the demon host knew they wouldn't trust him or Sylas, especially with the latter starting a raid just before his forced negotiation. With her family insecure, and everyone else just being terrible, Sona here doesn't have any options."

A few eyebrows were raised, but Aislynn continued before they could ask further.

"As it turns out, the Buvelles do have sympathies. Sona is here for a reason. She's a mage; a unique, powerful one. But, she doesn't want to fight. She won't join Sylas for that reason, and she definitely won't look to the demon host for help. It's only us, and..." Aislynn took a breath before committing, "I understand that I shouldn't have spoken for all of us like this; it's not our way. But, I did. I accepted. I made a promise to keep Sona Buvelle safe, and I will stand by it."

Aislynn's declaration prompted a brief pause before the council reacted. Some shared glances with their friends, some narrowed their eyes in suspicion or cool rage at Aislynn, and yet others simply began to reflect. Through it all, the dream mage fought the urge to gulp away her anxiety.

Her salvation would come in the form of a familiar face, stepping forward from the back of the room. As he approached, Aislynn, unbidden, released the breath she'd been holding.

"Barth..."

The sole survivor of their last excursion nodded, but didn't address her; his attentions were on his fellow council members.

"Aislynn's right for saying she shouldn't have spoken for us all... but, I'd be appalled with any of you who wouldn't say what she did," the soldier stated, "We're supposed to be better than Sylas. We don't spill unnecessary blood, we don't terrorise, and we certainly don't turn our backs against our own. She may be nobility, but before that Lady Sona's a mage, and before that a Demacian. If we must vote on this issue, I vote to follow Aislynn's example and keep Miss Buvelle safe here. Any objections?"

After a moment of shared glances and single-word discussions, not one objection was made.

"Alright then," Barth glanced to Sona and smiled, "Well milady, if you're expecting a ceremony of some kind, you'll be disappointed. But, you're with us now, for what its worth... we'll keep you safe and well to the best of our ability."

No reply came from the Maven of the Strings, but from the way Sona raised her arms halfway and the gentle smile she had on her face, Aislynn knew the message was received. After a moment, Sona simply turned to Aislynn and signed her message.

"She says thank you," Aislynn translated.

"No sweat," Barth replied with a smile before glancing to where he'd come from, "Garret, could you help ingratiate Sona?"

The patrol soldier chuckled as he approached, "Well, I was only supposed to be Cyrus' replacement. The job's been hell for my sleep schedule, boss. Could you take it back?"

"If I have the votes next election cycle," Cyrus jested, "I'm still a bit rusty, so..."

"Fine, fine, I'll hold on a bit longer..."

With that resigned comment, Garret opened the cabin meeting room door and ushered Sona out. In what was likely highborn instinct, the Maven of the Strings gave a small curtsy to the council before following her new charge. A serene silence filled the void that Sona left.

Once again, Barth broke it; this time with a jest, "I suppose I can say I helped finish the mission now, what with this secondary objective finished."

Aislynn chuckled, "Mission's long passed. You did your job getting back here in one piece."

"Maybe I could've done a bit more," Barth shrugged, "But, in any case, your report still isn't finished. We still got to go through that primary objective I missed out on..."

"Indeed," Silva straightened up, "Perhaps you could explain why you didn't refer to the Noxian as such."

The calm that remained was erased immediately, prompting a sigh from Aislynn, "You noticed."

Silva nodded, "Does she know?"

"That our friend is a foreign intruder? He didn't know, and didn't want to risk it," Aislynn shrugged, "Me not referring to him as such is... I guess it's a favour on my part."

"And why do you owe him a..." Barth stopped his sentence and asked, "He saved you, didn't he?"

"Yep... and that wasn't even the worst of it," Aislynn answered.

"After that vile woman Shauna Vayne ambushed us, she handed us over to a local patrol," Cyrus reported, "Begrudingly, might I add... anyway, we were then taken to Aron's Defiance; a joint Mageseeker-Army fortress. Apparently there was an influx of mages from Sylas' side getting captured north, and they were held there for interrogation."

"Looking for their leader?" Silva assumed.

"Correct. At least, the one remaining spy there was. Happ."

"You met with Happ?" Cheston's voice, raised in recollection, dropped quickly to a grim tone, "Did he..."

"He made it out, same as us," Cyrus answered, "But... well..."

"It wasn't just the Noxian who freed us," Aislynn finally announced, "Xander Ren is working with Sylas."

From his seat at the corner of the room, the hydromancer Jarin summed up everyone's thoughts succinctly, "Well shit."

"So the worst case scenario's happened," Ramver groaned, "How the fuck did that happen anyway? Surely Sylas isn't stupid enough to trust a Noxian?"

"Well, if you've been heard about the Freljordian raiders up north..."

"Wait, that was his idea?"

Aislynn sighed, "It was. A spur-of-the-moment decision, from what I've heard. He apparently went there looking for powerful magic to steal, but instead tricked some locals into thinking him divinely chosen."

Silva chuckled with bitter amusement, "... he's gotten worse since we left, has he?"

"If it makes you feel any better, basically everyone we've met since we met up, excluding the raiders themselves, agrees that it was a stupid idea. Including the Noxian, but as much as he convinced Sylas of that opinion he also doubled down on the deceit."

"So there's no chance he'll convince Sylas to turn on the raiders?" Silva asked.

"Not for the foreseeable future," the dream mage felt irritation bubble up her throat, "They still might be useful, as far as he's concerned. But, he did also do basically everything he could to make it seem like Sylas and the raiders weren't working together."

"Wants Sylas all to himself, does he?" Ramver jested.

Aislynn shrugged, "Maybe. The Noxian has his plans, and I imagine having Sylas follow them to the letter would be ideal."

Silva narrowed his eyes, "Did the Noxian trust you with those plans?"

Aislynn nodded with a sigh, "He did, actually. Not all of them, I assume, but for the ones he shared, he was quite detailed... I'm sure you can imagine why he bothered in the first place."

The dream mage braced herself for a series of irate reactions, but none came. Some mumbles bubbled from the room's corners, but that was as far as it went. And even if the issue had bubbled further, Aislnyn figured Silva's presence would've cut it off quickly.

"Continue," he spoke, "What were the Noxian's plans?"

Aislynn brushed aside her confusion - for a multitude of issues - and continued, "It's... a two-pincer strategy, in a sense. He's content on letting Sylas continue his killing spree... with a few nudges, of course."

"And for us?"

"He's hoping we might be the carrot to Sylas' stick," the dream mage summed up, "He recognises that we don't want to fight, and being the conniving bastard he is, he's playing ball. He wants us to act in the opposite way to Sylas; where he terrorises and leaves corpses, we help the downtrodden with our gifts. Geomancers in mining operations, our farming department sending relief to starving townsfolk, that sort of thing. That'll win us the war, he says; it'll turn the commonfolk to our side, and the nobles won't be able to fight us, assuming they haven't turned too."

"And with the conflict in the north, there'll be plenty hungry people around, at least," Ramver noted, "Conniving bastard's right. That's probably the use he sees in those northerners."

"If nobody figures out Sylas' fuck up, it just might work, too," Silva frowned, "Hmm... Aislynn, is that all?"

"...That's the long and short of it," Aislynn said after a pause, " I imagine everything else, either Barth or our spy network has informed you?"

Gerold nodded, "Thanks for the report, Aislynn. Your reconnaissance mission, however costly, has been a success."

"It ended up a bit more than recon," the dream mage attempted to jest, "... well, I got the info. We've got our intel, and a proposition... so, what's the plan? Should we... start a vote?"

Some words and glances were shared, but a straight answer wasn't given.

"... we'll reconvene within the week, when everyone is back," Gerold decided, "Topics will be whether to remain passive or start up our own missions, and whether to stick on our own or join with the Noxians and Sylas... that and...? Anyone have any other major concerns?"

The prior process repeated. Most notable of the shared looks to Aislynn, however, were those between Gerold, Ramver and Barth. Between the rapid shifts and the peeks at returning mages, it was obvious to Aislynn that the councilors were having a silent conversation with her and Cyrus as key subjects.

But why...

Barth interrupted the new silence - and Aislynn's thoughts - with a final statement, "Alright. Meeting concluded. Aislynn, Cyrus, follow me."

After a pause for consideration, Aislynn and Cyrus did as asked. As they walked, Aislynn noted that the paths Barth led them through weren't to the hideout borders, where the guards made their homes, but instead went deep into the cave fields. The situation prompted from the two mages curious frowns. Gerold, Silva and Barth were all leaders, naturally, but compared to their fellow council members they remained often on the silent side. They were passive politicians, assuming they could be listed as such at all. But all this secrecy...

We'll figure it out, Aislynn decided as their walk came to a stop, It's been a while, and clearly something has... changed.

Aislynn quickly realised - with a balk - that her realisation might've been an understatement. When the expedition had left, the largest building at the hideout was the abandoned wooden cabin at its center. The building before them was admittedly not much bigger, but glances down the streets and fields of the cave hideout showed Aislynn that it wasn't alone. Indeed, the seed of a settlement she'd sown months ago had finally matured into the self-sufficient town Aislynn hoped it could be.

"If the next vote goes the way I think you want it to go... well, it'll be more than food we'll have to offer."

Aislynn turned behind her and found the conspiracy growing. Perhaps late from taking a longer road, Ramver and Gerold had caught up. The former of the late arrivals stepped forward and, channeling his magic, opened up the

Ramver mused from behind them, "You gonna come in or what?"

"Oh, of course," Cyrus spoke for Aislynn and pulled her in without taking his attention off of Ramver and Barth, "So, if I may...?"

"No need, I'll get to the point," Barth cut off, taking over whilst Ramver used his magic on the cabin door, making its wooden frame grow roots into the walls, "You're going to vote act, and to join the Noxians' secret coalition, right?"

Cyrus, uncertain, looked to Aislynn for an answer.

The dream mage was hesitant on giving it, but in her reluctance stumbled into a realisation, "Er... well, I suppose that doesn't matter, does it? If you had Garret replace Cyrus, I'm off the council till the next time I'm voted in."

"Councillor or no, you still have influence," Gerold reminded, "So, which options would you turn that power to?"

After a pause, Aislynn sighed, "Barth's assumption was correct... I mean, even despite all the shit they get up to, I think it's unwise to refuse to work with them. At the very least, we'll know what stupidity they'd get up to."

"Without having to get people killed, hopefully," Silva considered, a curious glint in his eyes, "Didn't think you'd be for that action."

Aislynn frowned as a shade of red flashed in her vision, "Well, near-death experiences have a way of forcing reevaluation. Things have to change if we're to survive, and if it means cooperating with the Noxians..."

"I get it."

"I'm sorry, but- wait, what?"

"I understand... always have, even if I didn't agree," Silva shrugged and looked away awkwardly, "And... well, things are getting worse. Serice lost a spy last week; it's why she wasn't at the meeting; she's out on patrol. We've been holding off on leaving cos of the garrisons... This time, I agree."

Aislynn blinked, disbelieving, "You... do?"

"We'll support you on the Noxian side too," Barth spoke for himself and Gerold, "It's as you say, it's neccess-"

"Well, not all of it, mind you, I'm still voting against cooperating with the Noxians," Silva defensively shot back, "But I get the other stuff..."

Gerold glanced to Silva silently for a moment, then chuckled, "And if Aislynn's replacement asked you to vote for the Noxians?"

"... she wouldn't."

Gerold smirked at Silva, "And if she did?"

"... Okay fine, if she believes it best for our hideout, I'll play ball. But she won't!"

Aislynn blinked, then interrupted, "Hold on, hold on, what's this about my replacement?"

"... As much as I want to say just hearing about your near-death was enough to convince me we needed to do more, it wasn't. I needed someone to talk me through it," Silva explained, "About two or three days after you left, we got new mages at the hideout. One of them was quite the genius-"

"You just have the hots for her," Gerold teased.

"I don't!" the way Silva reacted mostly convinced Aislynn, but then again fear and attraction weren't mutually exclusive, "In any case, she's... well, she ended up replacing you when the vote came up. Smart and charismatic don't begin to describe it."

Aislynn narrowed her brow, "You don't say... where is she now?"

"Last anyone saw of her, she was talking with Serice... just before she left to look for her spy," Barth replied, "Which... well, I'm sure you can imagine my plight. The only reason I didn't run off to bring her back is that she's not useless in a fight... no offence."

Aislynn nodded in acceptance, but that didn't stop the embarrassed blush from spreading on her face, "None taken. Continue."

"Anyways..." Barth cleared her throat, "Before she left, she and I were talking about taking action. In every way you were all about being passive before the mission, she was the opposite."

"Except the part where I called for the mission in the first place?"

"... before the Noxian's arrival, then," Barth corrected, "Anyways... she and I were discussing changing things up, but beyond the other soldiers and I, she had trouble convincing people about changing things up. She got some, but..."

"Everyone's still a bit rattled, you see," Gerold said, "Not just because of your supposed death, but also because of all the shit going on beyond it... Since your way of doing things kept us safe, most stuck to that plan when news about the northern raids started coming up."

"That includes most of the council," Silva noted, "We've been trying to make changes, but it's been rough going."

"So, what, you just need me to help convince everyone that actually doing something with our powers will be necessary?" Aislynn balked, then chuckled, "You needn't even ask. I was going to do that already."

"You... well, of course, that'll be much appreciated. But, that isn't all to it," Silva grimaced, "As I said, your replacement shares your new zeal for getting things done... she doesn't share your trust of Xander Ren, though."

"... I see. That's what you want us to discuss?" Aislynn assumed, "You need my info on Xander for my replacement."

Barth nodded, "I'm sure you got to know each other a bit better after he saved you?"

"Anything will do," Silva shrugged, "Doesn't even need to be personal stuff. Any observed weaknesses? That'll do to..."

"She wants to fight him?" Aislynn squinted, "That's..."

"It doesn't have to come to that," Barth said, "We could help you convince her that he's trustworthy... though ultimately I think a meet-up between the two would be needed to that end... Still, could you share anything?"

Before she could make a decision, Cyrus spoke up, "You're asking us to help this woman potentially assassinate the person who saved us? If you want to talk about a big change, there's one staring right at you through the mirror."

"We've killed guards who stumbled across our hideout before. The Noxian? Could be much worse," Silva pointed out.

"Perhaps. Perhaps that's true, but hell, we don't even know who this woman is!"

Whatever reply was on Silva's lips was forced to remain there by that counter.

And yet, Aislynn spoke, "I'll help her convince everyone at the hideout that we need to take action, but this secret sharing I can't do. At least, not here. I'll share them with her in person when she comes back. As Cyrus says, I don't know who she is... if she's insistent on getting herself killed on Xander's spear, I at least want to meet her face to face."

"That's... acceptable. Absolutely acceptable," Gerold decided, "We'll tell you the moment she's back."

"Alright then..." Aislynn beckoned Cyrus to her with a motion before turning for the door, "If that's all, I think Cyrus and I will make sure Sona's fitting in fine..."

As Aislynn opened the door, Silva's voice rang out a final time, "... Guinevere."

The dream mage hesitated at the door, "Sorry?"

"That's her name ...We'll tell you when she gets back. Give Lady Buvelle our regards."

Aislynn stiffly nodded before quickly leaving the cabin, then the farmer's district all together. All the while, the world disappeared to her; it wasn't important. Instead, the name of her would-be replacement rang and repeated in her mind, persistent in its taunting.

Guinevere, Guinevere... I know that name, but from where? The dream mage strained her mind to find the answer, It's... it has to be from Ear... no. No, that can't be-

Cyrus' grip tightened on Aislynn's arm, snapping her out of her trance, "Aislynn, what's the issue?"

The dream mage blinked as she was brought back to reality, paused for five seconds, then finally responded, "Sorry, I... I got distracted."

"By what?"

"This replacement of mine... An unusually smart, charismatic mage with a name like that..." Aislynn stopped halfway, then explained, "It's absurd to think about, and I hope it isn't the case... but she might be like Xander."

"... like Xander?"

"A dream mage, among other things... I've got nothing but a name to go off of, but..." Aislynn grit her teeth, "I don't know. There's... nothing to know, until I meet her. But gods damn it all if she is..."

Cyrus frowned, but tried to raise a silver lining, "If she's like you and Xander... maybe she could turn the tide and make it so we aren't reliant on a Noxian aid? Or maybe she'll trust him if they're the same?"

The only reaction Aislynn could give was a mirthless laugh, "Oh please. As if I could be so lucky."

Author's Note: So my estimate of a February release for this chapter was completely off. But hey, welcome to Arc 2 of Redefinition!

Where last arc was focused a lot on the pre-planning of Xander's take on rebellion, this arc will actually covering it. Hence, I actually had to plan things out meticulously, which is why this chapter came out later than I expected. February wasn't a wasted month, in truth. I reread my whole fic thrice just to comb over any details that I could work with, as well as to make sure I don't open up plotholes going forward. That in turn prompted the need to make edits for the past chapters, which should be live along with this chapter... can you see why I took some time with this?

Now, despite all my planning planning, I still likely won't be posting too often. Between my poor discipline, the fact that I can no longer write short chapters for the life of me, and the likelihood that I'll probably need to diverge from my plans for character development, consistent uploads won't be occurring.

So anyway, I hope you've enjoyed my writing thus far. For everyone who's followed and favorite-ed this fic, thank you so much. I appreciate the support I've gotten, and hope to continue to provide quality work going forward. See you next chapter.