(Garen - PoV)
Of course, now they want to talk, rather than send assassins after us.
I scoff. Now, when we have an army at our backs and a fortress at our feet.
Shaking my head, I lean back onto the support of the tent. Only the fact that it plays into Swain's plans makes me agreeable. Even then I want as little as possible to do with the bastards beyond confirming the Grand General's words, but of course now Jarvan has to come in to try to make amends, to try to save the day.
Far too late, my old friend. Far, far too late.
But I will speak with him at least, I suppose. He might even try to actually fix Demacia's bullshit, not that it will help.
No, the entire mess has to be torn down and given a fresh start. Sorry Jarvy, you won't be talking things down this time, not that you usually manage that. And this time you won't be able to force us down either. No, but I do hope you survive the coming storm, to help rebuild something greater from the ashes.
(Jarvan IV - PoV)
"At least he is still willing to talk to me," I muse, approaching the neutral tent set up by League Summoners for the meeting.
Stepping past the Summoners I duck into the tent, followed by Shyvanna, Cithria, and Marcus, a diplomat suggested by the Council...or what's left of it. And wasn't that a fight, trying to get them to focus on anything other than the...witch hunt, back at the capital. It seems Gerald is not the only one incised at the idea that "mere peasants" dare to kill one of their own.
It seems the Councilors have forgotten that for a great many of them, their jobs are to serve as representatives for said peasants. One more problem for later, however. It will be hard to bring the Council in line with the Noxians knocking at the gates...
The tent is emptier than expected...table and chairs in the middle, League Representative near the viewscreen...and Garen leaned contemptuously against a wall. It...hurts to see him in Noxian regalia, even if I should have expected it.
I have a slight flare of hope when for a fleeting moment his gaze softens on seeing me before his eyes harden once more.
No, this will be no easy meeting. His anger will not be so easily soothed...and I cannot blame him.
We step forward and take the seats on the right side of the room. Garen remains standing, showing no intention of moving.
*Cough*
The League rep clears his throat, quite loudly in the otherwise silent room.
Garen reluctantly takes a seat on the other side of the table.
...
No, this will not be easy at all. And neither Shyvanna nor Cithria are diplomats, leaving me reliant on Marcus, who as the choice of the Council...well, I no longer have much faith in how much I can trust their judgment on anything. At least Garen is in the same or even worse boat as me.
At a gesture from the League rep, the screen activates, revealing Swain.
...
Gods damnit.
Clearing his throat again, the rep speaks at last.
"Uh, so, hello everyone, I am Veteran Summoner Idle Gaze. I'm just here to keep an eye on things, make sure nobody does anything rash, and answer any questions regarding League policy. Oh, and operate the viewscreen so the, uh, Grand General(?) here can join us. You all know each other I assume, so, have fun? Try not to kill anyone please, it would look terrible on my record."
He pulls out a magazine of some kind along with a drink and reclines backward on thin air, seemingly losing interest in all of us.
...Summoners.
I hesitate, unsure how to proceed.
"Jarvan, Shyvanna," Swain inclines his head very slightly. "Perhaps an introduction of the, I believe, diplomat and Vanguard? Followed by your reasons for calling this meeting?"
Swain being helpful...not a good sign. Leading me right where he wants me. He knew we would be coming. May have even known I would be the one leading the group. Damn the man...
"To my left is Cithria, a recent recruit of the Dauntless Vanguard. Her valiant actions in the Marsh saved a caravan of civilians from certain death at the hands of undead and greatly impressed me, so I have brought her into my retinue."
The young woman blushes at the attention. Garen's glare gratefully lessens. I know how she idolized the man.
"To my right is Marcus, a diplomat recommended to me by the Council."
Hopefully, I managed to keep the scorn out of my voice when mentioning the Council. Hopefully.
Swain nods, and Garen grunts, both waiting for me to continue. I try to collect my thoughts.
"I...Garen..." Perhaps not the best idea to address him directly, and certainly not the way to conduct a diplomatic meeting but...to hells with it. I am not a diplomat.
"I have been investigating. The Academy."
And the atmosphere in the room changes instantly. Cithria tenses up, not used to the feeling of...bloodlust. Marcus gapes like a fish. Garen's...sullen, almost lackadaisical manner is gone in an instant. I have his full attention now.
"I...I am sorry, my friend. We didn't know. We still don't know, not really. I looked into the records, and have found that not a single mage has graduated in two years, but still don't know why. What...what is going on? How did you find out?" my clenched fist strikes the table lightly. "I swear to you Garen, we will not let this stand. I will not let it stand."
Garen closes his eyes and shakes his head.
The feeling in the room doesn't abate.
"It is not you, Jarvan. It was never you. It is Demacia. The entire nation is...foul. Corrupt to its very core. We were just too blind to see it. I..."
He grimaces, his muscles clenching, before waving a hand towards the screen.
"The Mark I Nullification Process," Swain announces.
Shyvanna, Cithria, and I look at each other, it is a name we recognize from the notes at the academy, the current standard they use.
"Let me tell you all about it," Swain says, almost smiling, his usual stoic facade bending, to show the sadist beneath.
...
I want to deny it. Deny it all as Noxian lies, as another weapon to break our resolve, but it explains...everything. Every piece falls into place.
We have been experimenting on our people. Experimenting on them and murdering them, every time the experiment fails. With the failure being...being intentional much of the time...Even ZAUN...by the Angel, even Zaun at least try to get useful results, don't destroy...resources...for nothing.
...
I...
I cannot speak...
What is there...what is there to say?
How can I justify myself to them? What could I possibly say to Garen to convince him to stop? To turn away?
What words could possibly convince him that Demacia can be salvaged?
There are none. There are none, because...
Because...
...
"They tried to murder her."
I look up.
Garen stares at me, having spoken for the first time since Swain's explanation.
"Lux. The Academy. All the horrible shit they do to the regular mages? They at least have a fighting chance, even if near all of them die to negligence in the end. But Lux? The dose they gave her...if she had been anyone else, any regular student, anyone but a Champion level mage? It would have driven her completely insane within two days, and outright killed her within four. Before I ever got to the Academy."
...
"Even with everything...she will never recover, Jarvan. She survived physically, but her mind is damaged. Forever. The girl that I played with back when we were children? She never left the Academy. They broke her. So no. There will be no peace. No negotiating. I will not stop until the stain of corruption on the world that is Demacia is broken, so that something better can take its place."
...
I look away.
It...seems we are done here. Once more, I have failed. All I can do is go back to the capital and...
...Figure it out when I get there.
...
Gerald...as the head of the Mageseekers. He...Has to know all of this...doesn't he.
...Damnnation.
"This is all very unfortunate," the diplomat, Marcus, speaks up, "but, technically, refer to personal matters, as opposed to matters of state? Given the various agreements between nations, I still have not heard anything justifying the unprovoked attack on Demacia by Noxus."
Everyone in the room stares at the man's sheer audacity. Everyone except Swain.
...This. This is what I get for trusting the fucking council.
"Unprovoked, you say?" Swain responds. "It was very much provoked, when a Demacian assassin murdered a Noxian Representative in neutral territory and massacred most of their guard detail, in an attempt to murder two refugees fleeing persecution."
...Vayne. Vayne and the fucking Council, again!
"What? What nonsense is this?" Marcus attempt to deny.
Garen recounts events in detail. Marcus's denials are shot down when Idle Gaze provides League documentation and evidence from the site, which happened to be relatively close to the Institute of War.
...
Every time I think the situation cannot get worse...
And I cannot...I cannot even be upset about it. It is not even the Noxian's doing. We have dug our own grave and stepped right in. All Noxus has to do is fill it in.
Eventually, the room is silent once more.
...
I am...slumped in my seat, eyes closed. The revelations have...hit hard.
"Is there...anything else?" I ask.
"No," Garen answers, standing. "But I will be heading your way soon. Please, don't try to stop me."
He leaves the room.
I should go as well. Eventually.
Marcus is nattering about something...thankfully Shyvanna shuts him up.
I just...need to rest for a moment. To think. What am I going to do?
"Are...are we the baddies?" Cithria asks quietly.
I am beginning to wonder that myself.