It was way too early.
The last Harrowing had been just a few months ago and was one of the worst. The ghost and ghouls of the Isles should, even for them, have had more than their fill of blood-lust and suffering. Miss Fortune stood on the balcony of the tavern her crew frequented, knuckles turning white from gripping the splintering wood on the balcony as she gazed at the black mist tumbling across the sea. The shrieks were distant but soon they would be upon them and would be wrecking havoc across the city she had only just begun to lead. She and her small crew disrupted her main competitors after they saved many souls in the Harrowing and in the past months her fleet had vastly increased in members. Miss Fortune was practically leading her own private navy and the other prominent captains would not dare touch her at this point as in such a short time her followers rivaled even that of Gangplank's at his prime. This time they followed out of love rather than fear, however.
Just as the red-head was about to whistle to her first mate she noticed that the mist was passing. They weren't coming for Bilgewater. The Harrowing would be happening elsewhere.
"Oi lads. Over here," she called to the inner circle of crew members playing cards behind her. Ivan, her most trusted member, was the first to rise up and join her on the balcony.
"Shadow Isles? Again?" He spoke gruffly through gritted teeth.
"Nah they're... passin'," muttered Ang, one of the ship captains for Miss Fortune's fleet.
"Where're they going?"
"That's exactly the question we need to be asking," Miss Fortune narrowed her eyes, "I want fully armed patrols continuously circling the waters near our docks and I want scouts periodically being sent around the islands in the region. Nothing goes on in these waters without my knowing. I also wanna lead a ship into Zaun. The harbors there will be the next to see the mist and we might be able to get information. Whilst we're there I want Ivan to meet with our hextech supplier, get some items for cheap and bring them back here to sell at a profit. When I return I want us to start work on some new ships."
Ivan and the others were nodding along, "What type of ships are we buildin', Miss?"
"Warships. I want to be prepared for whatever the fuck the Shadow Isles are planning. Also, Ang, I want you to increase your efforts in recruiting more members to the crew. Avoid trying to poach members of the other pirate crews. I don't want our competitors getting wind that we're building up even more. Try and get foreigners or runaways. I'd prefer some Freiljords. They know how to fight."
Sivir hated sand. Her yellowing scarf wrapped tightly around her face barely stopped the wind from flicking sand into her mouth and eyes as she stood atop a sand dune looking off into the horizon. The caravan of peasants she had been guiding for the past few days were not faring much better as those who could walk hunched over whilst they fought against the wind which signaled an oncoming sand storm. Just a few more hours and they'd be at the outskirts of Kalamander, a city close to the border Shurima shared with Noxus. Sivir was planning on coming here anyway to make sure the city was still safe so she was not necessarily going much out of her way to bodyguard the caravan.
Sivir had hoped that one day she might be given one of the northern cities, perhaps even Kalamander itself, to govern. She'd prefer a place near the border to house refugees from Noxus' reign of terror, or perhaps a city with a port looking out towards Demacia so she could set up trade routes. Anywhere that was far enough away from the Capital. Riches and fame were not really a priority for Sivir anymore as her heritage allowed her more than enough of that. She wanted to use her abilities to help the people of Shurima now. Her people.
The first cobbled walls encircling Katamander's gem mines came into view as did the first of the Sand Soldiers in their golden armor. They seemed to spring to life at the sight of visitors and marched towards them, inspecting the group. After noticing Sivir the soldiers let them past and she marveled at how frighteningly powerful Azir was. It was possible that there was nobody else in Runeterra who could continuously and single-handedly protect a territory as large as Shurima.
'Maybe not continuously,' she thought after taking her leave of the caravan to patrol the Noxian border, 'I do need to start finding fighters and not just poor women and children. I'll ask Nasus about it, he seems to know a lot about the military and training techniques of old.' Her patrol brought her just below the sequence of mountains which littered the north of Noxus and in the far distance, just through the beginning of the sand storm, she could see a figure stumbling through the sand. Blood danced across the golden surface as it fell from the person's body like rose petals.
As Sivir got closer to the body she realized that perhaps there was one other person in Runeterra with as much raw power as the old hawk. Perhaps there was somebody who could constantly protect the whole of Runeterra by themselves. This person was writhing in the sand in front of her now, his blue eyes wild with anger and anguish, his blue hands clutching for a scroll which was not there and his blue head turning ever more red and ever more golden with every desperate thrash.
Ryze was dead, and somebody made sure that Sivir saw it.