[Author note 2022-07-20: Altered the last part after the second *-break]
Braum's shield might have withstood Fareed's attack but something had cracked. That's what Nunu thought when he watched the two men chat. The Iceborn and the Shuriman were still smiling to each other, but their expressions reminded Nunu of snow covering a lake of thin ice.
Poppy was once again blindfolded and bound to one of Willump's horns but the yordle's thoughts seemed elsewhere, not responding to Nunu's questions. Perhaps she was angry that Fareed had used her hammer without permission.
What Fareed did was wrong. A hero doesn't attack someone who is down. A hero comes to the rescue and saves the day, like Braum with his shield. Nor did a hero just watch as something horrible happened before their eyes.
Nunu chewed on his lip. He hadn't acted like a hero when Fareed grabbed Poppy and threatened the yordle's life. His mind had gone blank.
Worst of all, when Fareed raised the hammer to Jax's taunt, Nunu had covered his eyes like a scared kid.
He replayed the scenario in his mind as the group traversed the stony passage, grumbling over what he should've done, throw a snowball at Fareed, give a stern yell, or maybe ask Willump to sit on the man.
The ranger-knight hadn't said anything or moved throughout the whole ordeal. Sometimes, Nunu would forget that she was their hostage, since she was so silent. At least she made it easier for Willump.
Wind whistled up the mountain path, squeezing through crevices accompanied by the sound of boots gnawing on gravel.
Shiza and Cara walked at the front. They held hands with each other and the girl with the green cloak was almost skipping. She was surprisingly light on her feet for someone who had a bolt pointing out of their chest. Roan, the village boy, walked behind them clutching the arm of his father, his sister holding his mother's.
Feeling a sudden cold, Nunu buried his own hands in Willumps fur. He scratched his friend's scalp and received a pleased humming in response.
The mountains had been fun at first but the same scenery of boulders, stone walls and blue sky made it repetitive and boring. The lack of animals had also diminished Nunu's enthusiasm. Both Braum and Cara had mentioned Uwendale being full of interesting creatures like tuskvores, dire wolves, rabbits, deers, and much, much more, but it had been mostly plants and people they'd encountered.
He'd wondered if the animals had kept a distance due to Willump's scent, because it could get a bit strong at times, but none had showed up even after the river baths, except for the squirrel. The crimson raptors didn't count either, as Braum and Fareed had hunted them down from another place. Nunu took a mental note to retrieve them later on. They'd stuffed the feathery corpses in a hollow tree right before the ambush.
Shiza raised a hand and the group halted.
On top of a boulder, a man pointed a crossbow at them. His frame was short and his limbs spindly. The stubble on the man's face was few and scattered but still more than what he had on his head.
"Who are they?" He pointed his crossbow at Willump. "Be quick and clear, Shiza or you might need some guidance from the Veiled Lady." The man had a wild look and his gaze flickered like a waning candle.
"Tiren," Shiza called out, her voice slow and neutral. "They're allies from Freljord."
"Why is that one so hairy?"
"Because Willump is a yeti," Nunu replied.
"Tiren," Shiza repeated the man's name. "You see who they're holding? We managed to catch the ranger-knight thanks to them. They're here to help us."
Nunu hadn't expected anyone else to point a crossbow at them. He began to imagine ice on top of the boulder when the man lowered his crossbow.
"Had to make sure," Tiren said. "Strange people snooping around our perimeters."
"Who?" Shiza asked sharply.
"Don't know. Durvla and Eimur only spotted shadows. Might be rangers sent by Miss Knight over there."
"Impossible." Fareed shook his head. "There shouldn't be any rangers left in Uwendale."
"This is not the place to talk," Shiza cut in, "Let us in, Tiren. We'll hold a council after I've helped Cara with her wound."
"Why aren't the Freljordians blindfolded?"
"We can trust them," Shiza insisted.
The spindly man squinted suspiciously at the large Freljordian, who returned with a smile and a wave of hand.
"Hello new friend, my name's Braum," the Iceborn said. "Great hair style." He patted his own bald head to strengthen his point.
Tiren didn't reply, instead he jumped down from the boulder and ushered the group to follow into a cave.
Nunu pulled out Svellsongur, letting the blue tint act as a torch but received a sharp hiss in return.
"No light!" Tiren's voice bounced around in the darkness.
"You want us to walk in the dark?" Nunu asked with a dubious voice.
"No, I want you to follow. Big difference."
"That doesn't sound like a good idea."
"It's a precaution we have," Shiza explained. "Tiren can see in the dark. We'll tie a rope on us all, just take it slow."
Tiren glanced at Braum, Jax and Willump and clicked his tongue. "You three might need to crawl."
Nunu shouldn't really complain since he had it quite comfortable on Willump's back, but staring at the dark for a long time was an unsettling feeling. He'd had his arms out, incase of bumping into stalactites and his ears were listening for Willump's horns scraping against the roof.
Several times, he'd wanted to ask how much longer it was left but he'd bitten down the words. He didn't want to be the first one since it felt like it would be a loss, but he wasn't sure exactly what.
So he waited and hoped someone else would ask to break the silence. But either the question never came to the others, or they were too busy ambling in the darkness.
Back in the first cave, when they were chased by wyverns, Nunu had heard his own heart slam against his ears. It was an exhilarating feeling, like war drums spurring him forward and focusing his mind.
Now, in the slow trudging with no danger nearby, his mind wandered by boredom and instead of drums, he seemed to hear voices hidden among different sounds.
There were faint gasps in Willump' shuffling steps. A shield scraping against a wall sounded like a sharp intake of breath. A cough or a grunt made him imagine a body falling to the ground. If he listened closely, he could almost discern words in the dark, but they were muffled and distant.
Covering his ears didn't help either. There was a droning sound, like a giant fly hovering next to him. He felt how Willump turned in several directions, probably led by the tugging of the rope connected to them in front. From the different winds and change of smell, Nunu guessed that there was an underground tunnel system in here and Tiren wasn't joking about the risk of getting lost.
As time passed, Nunu's skin prickled with goosebumps and he buried himself in the fur of Willump. But even the warmth of his best friend couldn't stave off the chill running up his spine as shadows seemed to move in the darkness. Hacking down people, turning over carts and setting things on fire.
The scent in the air changed. It grew damp and smoky with a hint of oil. Something ruffled in the front and light seeped out. The small rays hurt Nunu's eyes.
When his vision returned, he stared at what looked like a hall made of stone. Strange lamps dangled on the sides, casting a pale green light on the walls and pelted grounds. Groups of people were spread out in the hall, glancing at the newcomers with wary looks. Some wore similar clothes of villagers like Roan and his family. Others wore outfits matching the scars on their faces.
"Nunu?" Braum sounded concerned, his brows knitted with worry.
It was then that Nunu realized that he'd been hugging himself, his fingers digging into his shoulders.
"How are you, my friend?" the Iceborn asked.
Heat rushed up Nunu's cheeks and he stretched his hands high above him while exaggerating a yawn. "Oh, I must've dozed off." He rubbed his eyes and wiped off the moistness. "Did I miss anything?"
The yeti under him let out a questioning growl.
"No, really, Willump! It was so boring in the dark and well, your back was like a rocking bed and… and…"
But Braum's expression didn't change and Willump tilted his head, trying to take a closer look at Nunu.
"Oh, wow! This base looks awesome!" Nunu climbed off Willump and hurried to the throng of people. "Hello, everyone, I'm Nunu of the Notai! I'm from Freljord!" He waved to whoever he laid his eyes on, and when a woman with curly hair waved back he hurried towards her.
"Welcome," she said. "Nunu was it?"
"Yes, and who are… ouch!"
The woman had pinched his cheek. "Oh, they're so smooth!"
He pressed out a smile. "Y-yes, they are." He just wanted to keep himself busy, in case Braum were going to ask questions. Then he felt a bump on his back and he turned around to see his best friend mimicking the same kind of knotted brows like the Iceborn had before.
"What, Willump?" Nunu asked, irritation seeping into his voice.
The yeti snorted and tilted his head towards the group. Shiza was talking to another white-coat, who was studying the wound on Cara. Fareed and a few rough-looking guys were shoving Jax to another hole in the wall. Braum looked on, glancing occasionally towards Nunu's direction.
The yeti tilted his head again, asking Nunu to follow but going into another dark hole was the last thing the boy wanted right now.
"You can go with them, Willump," Nunu suggested. "You can help them drop off Poppy and Bird-Lady, then come back here."
The yeti's eyes widened with surprise.
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. In fact, I'm having a blast!" Nunu noticed the village boy dumping his bag on an empty space. "Roan, do you want to sing that song you did before? I think I can play it on the flute now!"
Willump grunted with an unsure tone.
"It's alright, I'm not just going to play some songs. You've heard them hundreds of times already." Nunu pushed Willump and, to his surprise, the yeti jerked away.
"Please, Willump." He was struggling to hold his smile when he saw his best friend's bewildered look. "Please just follow them for now."
His heart sagged with relief when the yeti turned around and ambled towards the group.
"I've never seen anything like this before. " Nunu poked at one of the lamps. "How do they work?"
"They're gas lamps from Piltover." The woman with curly hair replied. She called herself Enid and had sort of taken Nunu under her wing, occasionally pinching the boy's cheek for being so cute. "I'm not sure how they work. You see those ropes? They're attached to something known as a generator which is why they light up."
"So it's another kind of magic?" Roan asked. After Nunu had called out to him, he and his sister had joined in on the songs and chatter.
Enid tapped her protruding chin. "I think they call it science."
A large man with a bulb for nose snickered. "Same, same, jus' with different name, innit?" He slurred a bit, dropping some vowels here and here.
"Yeah right, Alby." Enid rolled her eyes. "Keep telling yourself that."
A third voice chimed in. "There's one big difference between them."
Roan perked up. "Dad!"
His father patted Roan on the head before joining the crowd around the hearth, which wasn't really a fireplace but a pair of glowing, coiled metals emitting heat. Now that Nunu had a closer look at Roan's father, he found the man intimidating; with the neck of a bull and the arms of a lumberman, but it was the face which was the most frightening. The sunken eyes and broken nose in the pale green light made him look like a skeleton.
Roan's sister tugged the father's sleeve. "How's Ma?"
"Ma is fine, Rose. Just a bit tired from all the travel she's gone to rest. I'm honestly surprised that you haven't joined her in bed yet."
"We were listening to Nunu's stories."
The man laid his sunken eyes on Nunu. "We were travel-companions but I haven't introduced myself, have I?" He reached out a massive hand. "I'm Grada, father of these two. We're from a village named Lockwood to the west of the hinterlands."
Nunu accepted the greeting, expecting his hand to be crushed but found Grada's grip soft. "I'm Nunu."
Roan's father gave a nod to the other two adults.
"Enid," the woman with curly hair said, then pointed to the man with a bulb-nose. "Alby."
"So wha' the difference?" Alby asked. "Between science and magic, I mean."
"One gets you fame and fortune," Grada explained, "the other gets you exiled."
The small smiles Nunu had managed to raise on Enid and Alby faltered.
There were around two dozens of people in the hall, gathered in their own groups with their own activities. At first, they had listened in when Nunu had started to play his flute, but after a few songs, they returned back to their pelted spots and continued with their work, whether it had been patching clothes, preparing food, or taking naps. Except for Enid and Alby, the groups hadn't talked much among themselves.
"Dad, you did it again," Roan said.
"Did what?" Grada asked.
"Sinking the mood." Rose continued.
"Oh, sorry."
The two children nestled themselves next to their father. "We forgive you."
Grada's face softened as he turned to Nunu and the other adults. Sorry, let's talk about something else."
"Can you all use magic?" Nunu asked.
"Going straight for the throat, aren't you?" Enid laughed and pinched the boy's cheek again.
Alby nodded. "We wouldn' be here otherwise."
"Was this made by magic?" Nunu waved a hand around the hall. "Did you shape this all by yourself, like how Ornn shaped the earth?"
"Some of it," Enid replied. "But it was mostly like this when Tiren found it. How he found this place, I have no idea. You've seen the man, he's a bit strange."
"We're all strange, Enid."
"I mean stranger than most." She glanced around before whispering, "You know how he talks about the Veiled Lady."
"Who's that?" Nunu asked. "Is it a deity like the Protector?"
"Gods no," Alby muttered. "Dun' compare those two ever again. The Protector is Demacia's guardian deity. The Veiled Lady is just a no-name spirit who assists people into the afterlife."
"Isn't that what Kindred does?" Roan asked.
"The Eternal Hunters kill their prey," Enid explained, "but it's the Veiled Lady who cleans it up afterwards."
Nunu furrowed his brow. "That's not right. Kindred ushers the souls to the afterlife."
Uncertainty flashed past the woman's face. "Perhaps the Veiled Lady helps you choose between Lamb and Wolf?"
"Lamb being right choice, of course," Alby replied. "Trying to run is jus' cowardly."
"Really? In Freljord, some warriors would do a ritual known as 'kissing the wolf' before they head into battle."
"Ah." Alby waved a finger triumphantly. "I know the answer to that one: That's 'cus they're Freljordian warriors. Here in Demacia, the arrow is the best choice."
"Why even bother choosing?" Grada replied. "Dead is dead, there's nothing left after that." When no one chirped in with a comment, he quickly added, "I'm sorry. I think I sunk the mood again."
Nunu waved away the apology. He was too engrossed that the Demacians also knew of Kindred. "What stories do you have of them?"
"Stories?" Alby folded his arms and thought hard. "We dun' really have stories of Kindred. Some silly plays sure but no real campfire story."
"What about the one with that actress who died on stage?" Enid suggested.
Alby grimaced. "That's just a rumor, not a story."
But Nunu latched onto the topic, tugging on Enid's sleeve. "Tell me more."
"Oh, you look so adorable when you have that expression." Enid ruffled the boy's hair then cleared her throat.
"South of the capital of Demacia, in a city named Jandelle there was a famous actress known as Magga. It was a time when the public swallowed plays of dark tales and tragedies, especially the stories of Kindred, and no one did it better than Magga. She would fill the Golden Round, that's the name of the theater she housed, with an audience every night. People from all over Demacia, both royalties to dungcarters, flooded to get a glimpse of her performance. She had a talent, you see. A talent of mimicking the twin deaths like no one else could.
"One night, Magga had her performance like usual, moving around the stage capturing the attention of even the king, who leaned over his seat at the upper levels so much that his bodyguards became concerned. They all watched Magga speak like Lamb and stalk like Wolf, one mask on each side of her face, switching whenever it was needed."
"Together?" Nunu cut in. "She wore both masks together? Why?"
"Because she played both parts exceptionally well. Now shush, it's rude to interrupt. Where was I? Right, Magga had her performance like normal, wearing both masks and enrapturing the audience. When the play ended, the audience roared and praised her. Their applause were like thunder and Magga accepted them all with a bow. But in that thunder, some people heard the sharp whistle of an arrow. Eyewitnesses would then claim to have seen Magga clutch her chest and slump to the floor. When the stagehands came to her, she was already dead."
Alby muttered a blessing from the Protector. Roan and Rose squirmed closer to their father's side. Nunu waited. When Enid didn't continue, he raised a hand.
"Why did Kindred kill her?" he asked.
"Because they were jealous of her talent," Enid replied.
Nunu chewed on his lower lip. He'd already been rude and interrupted another person's story, but the explanation felt wrong. "You said it was an arrow that took Magga, which meant Lamb claimed her. Lamb isn't the emotional one, she can't get jealous."
"Oh, do we have an expert on Kindred here?" Enid said with a wry smile.
"Maybe there's a secret the spirits dun' want us to know," Alby suggested. "Maybe Kindred found Magga's performance so real that they got threatened."
"It might just be the story's intent to rouse discussion to pass time with," Grada added, "especially fitting nowadays, with the stench of death wafting through the air of Demacia."
Something Grada said made Nunu remember a question from before. "Why do you tell stories to each other?"
"What a deep question for someone with such soft cheeks."
"It was something Shiza asked me," he continued, brushing off Enid's hand. "It kind of stuck with me and I'm curious what you have for ideas."
Enid tapped her chin. "Maybe like Grada said, to pass time?"
Alby snickered. "You mean to waste time."
"I have nothing," Grada said, glancing down at his children by his sides. "What about you?"
The boy shook his head, but his sister seemed to have an idea.
"To remember?" she suggested.
"Good answer," Alby said with an approving nod, "stories are told half to entertain but also to teach the listener somethin'."
The others murmured in agreement but Nunu stayed silent, rubbing his knees.
That wasn't it. He agreed that stories were shared because people liked to reminisce about legends of the past. But there had to be something more than that. His mother didn't share stories because she wanted Nunu to be able to recite them by heart. There must be a bigger reason.
He scratched his head but nothing came out except for dry skin and dirt.
"Careful there," Enid said with a chuckle, "you might get a fever from thinking that hard."
Grada gave a nod towards Nunu's belt. "Is that a flute you have there?"
"He's really good, Dad," Roan said. "You've heard him play on the road, right?"
Nunu's hands were already unlatching the flute from his side, his tongue forming the words to present the legendary sword before a new audience, when he paused and inspected the sheen of ice covering his weapon. Tonight, Svellsongur would just be a flute and nothing else.
"Yes," he said with a smile. "Do you want me to play something?"
"How about some singing?" Enid suggested.
Nunu shook his head. "I'll just play the flute."
"Why not?" Enid asked. "I bet you have a lovely voice."
"If you want some singing, maybe Roan can do it."
The village boy grimaced.
"Are you getting shy, Roan?" Grada asked, rubbing the boy's shoulder.
"I don't wanna sing in front of so many people," Roan mumbled, glancing around at the main hall.
"Hey, I have an idea," Alby said. "There's a storage room with no people and I remember it having a lute and some other instrumen's. Why dun' we move over there and mess around a little?"
"Sounds like an excellent idea!" Enid said.
"I wouldn't mind," Grada replied. "How about you two, tired yet?"
Roan and Rose shook their heads.
The group seemed determined to move on whether Nunu wanted to or not. He felt a bit annoyed, wanting to learn more about the actress. To Nunu, having one person play both aspects felt a bit strange but then again why was death depicted as two spirits anyway?
He dusted off his pants and followed the group into one of the tunnels, wondering what Willump and the others were up to.
