While Poppy knew about Kindred through others' tales and gossip, she'd never seen either Lamb or Wolf. Death doesn't hunt yordles. That's how it had always been.

Yet the people who wore the masks of Wolf had urged her to run. Unfortunately for them, Poppy hadn't been too keen on that part.

She hauled the last of the four corpses into the ditch while Jax kept guard, ready to strike if the undead decided to wake up again. But without their faces and their masks, the corpses seemed to stay dead. She wiped sweat off her brow and was about to fill the ditch with loose dirt when Jax held out his staff.

"Keep it open for now," he said, "in case bird-lady wants to inspect them."

The yordle gave a nod and headed to the river. She dipped her scarf in the water and began to wipe the blood stains off her hammer.

"You need to tell her about the townguard," Jax said.

"You do it," Poppy replied.

The boy with the raccoon should have escorted the elders to the gates of Uwendales and told the ranger-knight about the situation.

"What's the difference?" Jax asked. "She can already sense your presence."

Poppy wasn't sure. Something told her that it was better to stay hidden. She wasn't a hero like Jax or Quinn, she was just a yordle with a hammer.

"It might make things worse," she said. "Monsters and magic, then adding a yordle on top of it all? It would just trouble her."

"She needs all the help she can get," Jax grumbled, "especially against monsters and magic."

"There's plenty to pick from in Uwendale."

"So Orlon taught you to only help people when you're in the mood for it?"

The sound of trickling river water filled the silence by the edge of the forest.

"You're not denying it," Jax noted.

"I'm trying to think how to hurt you the most," Poppy explained.

"I'll be dead before you come up with anything."

"Well…" Her face twisted and squirmed, struggling to come up with a good retort. "... then you, eh, better stay dead."

"And leave you all by yourself?"

The bushes rustled. "Who are you talking to?"

Jax flinched, tensing his grip on his staff, then relaxed when Quinn, the ranger-knight, stepped out of the shrubbery. "No one," he said, then added, "you look different."

Back in the jail, Quinn had only worn simple village clothes. Now, with her blue cloak, leather harness, armguard, and unique visor, she was unmistakably Demacia's Wings. Poppy sat by the river, frozen like a startled deer, as the ranger-knight peered into the ditch with the dead.

"I'm not sure how much the boy told you," Jax began, "but they were possessed or cursed."

"Two male and two female?" Quinn asked.

The giant man nodded. "They all wore black masks of Wolf, lodged into their flesh. No matter the damage, they wouldn't stay down…"

"...unless you cracked their heads open," Quinn finished. "If this isn't proof of magic, then I'm a simple village girl. What about the wyvern?"

"It wasn't there. Some traces of dried blood when I looked around, and there was some activity at the top of the mountains, wyvern screeches and rumbles. I also found this in the river between Westwald and Eastwald. He threw the bright fur-cloak to Quinn.

"Freljordian." She sighed. "As if things weren't bad enough."

"Sounds like you have your hands full." Jax glanced towards Poppy, who shook her head so violently that her pigtails slapped her cheeks. "Remember that god I prayed to when we talked in jail?" he asked.

"The small white-haired one?" Quinn jumped into the ditch, taking a closer look at the corpses. "You got some divine guidance?"

"No, it seems that I'm not worthy of her blessings," Jax replied. "Perhaps things would change if the prayers came from an esteemed knight like yourself."

"Her? You worship a female deity?"

"Is that surprising?"

"What's not surprising about you?" The ranger-knight climbed out of the ditch, wiping her gloved hands in leaves and grass. "Are you up for another trip?"

Jax shrugged. "Where are we going?"

"To track down the Slayer."

Poppy gasped, then clamped her mouth shut.

The ranger-knight turned towards the river. She was not even ten feet away and Poppy could see the woman's eyes, focus and unfocus, struggling against the veil of glamour.

"What are you staring at?" Jax asked.

"I'm not sure." Her gaze lingered by the river.

The yordle held her breath and closed her eyes, hoping that if she couldn't see the ranger-knight, perhaps the opposite would also come true.

Jax cleared his throat. "There's something I'd like to ask."

"What's this all of a sudden?"

"Please indulge me," Jax said. "You can tell from my robes that I'm a foreigner of Demacia. My size, my skin, the number of fingers, makes me not a human. Yet you still asked me to work under you. Why?"'

"You're too invested in this," she replied easily. "We have the same goal."

"But I'm not human?"

"Why does that matter?" Quinn asked. "My most trusted companion is an azurite eagle and, as you mentioned before, there's a minotaur among the Dauntless Vanguard. Do you know that there's rumors of a dragon among the royal guard?"

The answer had been matter of factly, with no hesitation. Poppy peeked at the back of the ranger-knight. Light shone on the blue cloak and armor.

"So you mean that strangers like me are allowed in Demacia?" Jax asked.

"I'm not sure about you specifically, since you injured so many guards," Quinn replied. "But in general, as long as one contributes and doesn't pose a danger, your background doesn't matter. "

The words struck a memory, lodged deep inside Poppy. A memory of a commanding officer, wearing a brigandine of gleaming steel plates, each piece overlapping, each piece a part of something bigger. The officer had pointed to a spot in a map, west of Valoran, and spoken fiercely to Poppy, and to the other soldiers in the tent:

I dream of a nation where all are welcome, regardless of station or background, as long as they contribute to the good of the whole.

It had been Orlon's motto. It had been the reason he accepted Poppy.

She clutched the hammer tightly against her chest.

"Would you say that you need help?" Jax asked.

Poppy twitched her ears.

The ranger-knight stayed silent, seemingly to ponder the question. "There's a threat of magic in my hometown, the mayor and the warden refuse to cooperate, and the first major lead I had burned before my eyes. There's a risk that if I report back to the Great City, they'll turn my hometown upside down." She laughed, but there was no joy in her voice. "By the gods, yes, I need help. Between the two of us, I'm not ashamed to admit it."

Poppy shed off her magic. With each layer, the ranger-knight's expression changed; from puzzlement, to startled, then to fear. Her hand reached for her crossbow by her side, but stopped short of touching the weapon when the yordle didn't move.

There was a tense moment as Quinn took in the details of the yordle, from the hair, to the broken shield, and to the giant hammer. She then eyed Jax suspiciously.

"I knew that you would receive her blessings." The man's face was hidden, but there was a smile in his voice.


Half an hour later, Poppy wasn't sure about her decision of revealing herself. The ranger-knight had attacked her with so many questions that her mind was more battered than her armor. She'd told about her quest for the hero of Demacia, of the town guard stalking a masked man and boy. When she then revealed that she'd visited the barracks, Quinn had pushed her to retell every detail. There had also been the mention of yordle being immortal, which raised a dubious eyebrow on Quinn but she hadn't inquired further on that topic.

"So it wasn't one big puzzle," the ranger-knight mused, "but several different ones with the same theme."

"The Slayer." Jax folded his arms. "You seem to know where he is."

"A hunch," Quinn replied. "It's what I believe happened since Valor isn't with you."

"Valor?" Poppy asked.

"The eagle you met in the warden's office. When Jax found the fur-cloak, my companion must've spotted the owner and decided to track them instead."

Poppy scratched her head. "Does that mean that the Slayer is from Freljord?"

"No, the Slayer is purely for Demacians."

"But the ones behind might not all be," Jax added.

Quinn nodded. "We both have the same idea."

The yordle had none of what idea it was and she was blunt about it. "So what does that mean?"

"It means If we find Valor, we'll probably find the secret of the Slayer," Quinn said. "Take me to the place where you fished up the fur-cloak."

Poppy had expected more orderly stuff from the ranger-knight, like barking out marching orders and having them walk in unison, but it had been a strangely scattered tempo. Jax led the way with his fiery staff and Poppy would follow to the best of her short legs' abilities while the leader of the trio was nowhere to be seen. Poppy would think that they had gone too fast and left the ranger-knight behind, only to hear Jax ask a question and Quinn suddenly appear out of thin air and discuss in low whispers before blending with the forest again.

They seemed to have an ongoing discussion but Poppy was content on staying outside. If they needed her opinion, they would ask her. Orlon himself had an endless amount of discussions where Poppy wasn't part of.

Thinking of Orlon again, she began to wonder if the Slayer really was the hero after all. The doubt from before had been flattened together with the appearance of the masked monsters, perhaps the Slayer had killed the monsters and claimed it to be bandits to not worry the villagers. Now, with the Wings of Demacia tracking him down, Poppy would soon meet with the rumored hero.

The thought lightened her steps and she pushed on.

The day was nearing its end, with the sky turning a deep red, when they reached the place where the forest and the river met the mountain.

Quinn inspected the ground. "Someone's been cleaning up," she noted. "Quite thorough too."

"They knew they would be followed," Jax said.

"Yes." She glanced up at the trees and smiled. "But they didn't account for Valor."

Among the tree crowns, a subtle trail of thin broken branches led to the eastern side of the forest.

"Poppy, put on your glamour again," Quinn ordered. "From here on, be prepared for ambushes. I might not be quick enough to warn you. Jax, act as if you're alone and follow the trail. I'll remain hidden."

They marched on east and the march slowed down as the woodlands thickened. Jax wasn't running anymore, taking it more of a slow walk as he glanced around to peek at Valor's trail.

Poppy walked close by, hands on the hilt, ready to swing.

Quinn had disappeared again. Even the keen ears of a yordle didn't manage to pick up her movements. Poppy knew of the Wings of Demacia being sponsored by the noble house of Buvelle, but Quinn didn't act like the nobles back in the capital city. Knights were usually easy to detect in a battlefield, but it seemed that the ranger-part was stronger in Quinn.

Poppy's yordle ears twitched and she looked up at the sky.

A small dot was growing bigger by the second, forming into the shape of a bird. It was the azurite eagle. It swished past Jax and Poppy, diving into a shrubbery behind them.

Quinn rolled out from the bush, using her armguard to shield the talons from her companion. Why was the bird attacking its owner?

The ground rumbled.

At first Poppy thought it was a tuskvore or a herd of horses but when she turned towards the source, she couldn't believe what she saw.

It was a giant snowball.

She evaded it by a hair's breadth by diving to the side as the boulder of snow plowed through and exploded, only to see a brown furry beast with horns stare at her with a puzzled expression.

"Willump, why did you stop?" A voice piped from the monster's head. A human child looked down, staring into Poppy's eyes without any care for her glamour.

"Oh," the boy said, "my bad, Willump. Continue with what you were doing."

The beast opened its jaws.

Poppy swung her hammer.

A loud thump followed by a whimper. The beast reeled and the boy above held onto the horns to not fall. She rushed past the monster, taking in the situation.

Quinn was on her feet again. Her face twisted in bewilderment and her crossbow loaded, trying to hone in on the azurite eagle skirting around and slashing the ranger-knight.

Two men clashed against Jax. One with a giant shield and almost matching the purple man in size, the other smaller but quicker, slashing with a long-hilted axe.

In the distance, there was a group of people watching Quinn, one of them had the white cloak of the Illuminators, the others seemed to huddle behind preparing something.

She sprinted towards the group, shouting and pulling their attention towards her. Some met her gaze and fell unconscious by the glamour's effect. Then her feet slid on ice.

Heavy thumps warned her of the beast but the ice stopped her from evading a second time, and four fists pummeled her. She used her hammer to deflect but few managed to pass her guard and hit her hard. The impact rushed air out her lungs and cracked the ice underneath her.

The monster suddenly stopped its attack, clutching an arm filled with bolts.

Poppy rolled to the side to see the eagle sprawled on the ground and Quinn reloading her crossbow. The ranger-knight took aim at the monster's head, she hesitated and her face paled when she discovered the boy riding on top.

The air hummed with power.

Lightning towards Quinn.

Poppy roared, planted her heels to the ground and swung. The jagged energy splintered a tree behind the ranger-knight, sending fragments everywhere.

The air tensed again.

A purple blur crashed into the group. While Poppy and Quinn were hesitating, Jax moved with purpose. He broke the arm of one person, the ankle of another. He was reaching the white-cloak when the man with the shield and the man with the axe retaliated. They were already bloodied and bruised but through grit pushed Jax back.

Poppy tackled the man with the axe, and they both tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust.

"Cara!"

As Poppy cleared her vision, she saw the white-cloak holding a young girl with a bolt sticking out, and the boy riding the monster bearing down on Quinn.

The man with the shield staggered, his nose broken and smearing blood on his mustache, one of his arms hung limp on one side but he was still using his own body and shield to keep Jax at bay.

Something moved in Poppy's periphery, and the smaller man had rushed past her and struck Jax a blow, forcing the purple warrior to one knee.

Then a shrill shout passed through the battle.

"We have your leader!" The boy on top of the furry beast said. The monster held Quinn with its four arms, threatening to snap her like a dry twig. "Drop your weapons, mister mercenary and you too, hammer-girl!"

There was a straining moment, like a thread about to snap, while Jax surveyed the situation. He then let his staff fall to the ground.

For Poppy, she didn't have anything to drop. Because she wasn't holding the hammer, it was in the grip of the smaller man who had managed to strike Jax. His dark hair was disheveled and untangling from a knot. Deep bruises bloomed across his tanned face.

And he wasn't dead.