Author's Note: I lied. Have a part six. Enjoy!
When Jerome and his men had arrived, they were silent, working quickly. They trussed and wrapped this body, suspending him on a long spear between two men. The scouts didn't remain long, immediately departing with escorts to return to the city with their prison in school. They had left Jerome and two of his men with Quinn as she waited for Jerome's word of approval, but there was silence for many long moments before the tracker cleared her throat.
"What charges will he face when he reaches Demacia?" Quinn asked, breaking the silence.
"It's likely he'll never see a true trial." Nero, the warrior lieutenant of Colonel Jerome said with a tired shrug.
"What?" Quinn asked lamely. Valor pecked at her boot, flapping his injured wing weakly. Quinn glanced down and nodded with a frown, picking the eagle up and setting him on her shoulder Valor hooted his thanks, tucking his wings into his side. "But what about his crimes?"
"Fair trial is reserved for those with reasonable doubt and lacking evidence." Nero growled, a cold grin settling on his face.
"You know as well as I do, Nero, those trials are nothing more than a dog and pony show used to sentence and punish criminals so the Demacian people can keep themselves on a pedestal compared to the rest of Runeterra." Helena's voice was that of scathing disapproval.
"You sound as if you don't like it." Quinn said softly.
"My family faced the taste of Demacian Justice a long time ago." Helena snarled, clenching her fists before releasing it a moment later. "It nearly ended them all, myself included, but in the end, we were only cleared when the true culprit came to light."
"The system succeeded then, yes?" Quinn said, frowning.
"You may not understand the workings of the high class citizens of the capital city because you're just a common farm girl, but that accusal would have ended my life and the life of my family in a matter of hours." Helena growled. "There is no investigation, no evidence, simply the moral obligation of a Demacian to volunteer himself if he is guilty. The crushing moral guilt and pressure… even if you didn't do it, if someone thinks it was you, it doesn't take long for it to spread. You, farm girl…"
"Enough, Helena." Nero barked, waving the cloaked woman off. "She may not possess the positions, the upbringing, or the knowledge, but she can always learn. Besides, her skills as a tracker trump even Telvey."
"No one tops Telvey." Helena growled.
"Quinn is here and Telvey is not." Jerome said evenly as he glanced at Quinn. "That alone should speak volumes. And watch your tone, Helena. She may be young, but she's already famous."
"Famous?" Quinn repeated blinking a few times. "What do you mean?"
Nero grinned. "Your name is already circulating through the city. The people may not know about all the men you and Jarvan's soldiers dealt with, but they certainly know that you are the one who brought a Noxian Assassin to heel with the assistance of the last of the Demacian Eagles. Welcome to the big leagues, love."
"They say he evaded battalions upon battalions of Demacian troops, from Garen's Dauntless Vanguard to the prince himself." Helena said, her voice grand and swelling with mock pride.
"Enough Helena." Jerome growled. "We have our orders already, and you yours. Now get to it."
"Sir." There was something in Helena's eyes as she glanced at Quinn before disappearing into a tree and somewhere beyond.
Jealousy?
"The king wishes to debrief you, personally." Jerome said, snapping Quinn back to reality.
"The king?" Quinn said softly. Jerome nodded. Quinn's mind was thrown into a tizzy as Valor squawked excitedly. Quinn felt nervous, but her heart was pounding in excitement. "Let's go then. We shouldn't be late!"
There was a buzz of activity in the Garrison base just outside the city. Hundreds of Demacian soldiers mulled about, all wanting to get a peek at the prisoner and the hero who had captured him. Quinn had been supplied with a horse when they had reached the main road, and now she rode alongside Colonel Jerome into the camp. Nero led a small contingent of soldiers in front of Jerome and Quinn, and one of the other horses that fell between the two groups carried an extra burden. Lambert had been hogtied and draped over the flank of the horse. The clamor grew louder as they slowed to make their way through the encampment.
"What is this?" Quinn asked, looking around as they pushed through the growing crowds of refugees and soldiers. Many of the Demacian soldiers turned to riot control as the crowds began to grow rowdy, attempting to surge forward towards the prisoner.
"Murderer! Monster! Noxian Scum! Kill him! Death is too good for the likes of him!"
The shouts only grew louder and louder as the column of scouts pushed deeper through the refugee camps along the eastern road. Demacian troops had formed a vanguard, pushing through the crowds, parting them as they surged forward along the road towards the eastern gates, the gold dressed light grey stone rising up hundreds of feet above the messy assortment of tents and cook fires.
"There are thousands of them…" Quinn murmured, looking out over the sea of unruly civilians. Their progress forward had slowed to a crawl as they came within shouting distance of the main gate. Despite the short distance, the massive gates rising up above her like a man made mountain, there was a solid mass of people between them. "Have they all come from Kalamanda?"
"Most of them, yes." Jerome nodded as the horses came to a halt. Demacian soldiers spread out across the road, reinforcements surging forward through the crowds from the gate. "Others come from all across Demacia seeking fortune and a better life, but often times there is no place for them within the city. So they wait. Sometimes for weeks. With all of the refugees arriving though, those who have come seeking their fortune have found other ways to make their money. These camps are all a festering pit of dangerous potions, desperate fortune hunters, and centers for those searching for dwellings of ill-repute. The soldiers have tried to police these actions, but there is no room left in the jails and few MPs are left who able to police the horrific conditions within the camps."
"So that's why the army is here?" Quinn said, swiveling on her saddle, glancing back. Where the refugee tents were dirty and mismatched, the Demacian Army tents were perfect matches, as if each had been stamped from a cookie cutter. Symmetrical rows twenty deep spread out around the edges of the refugee camps as far as the eye could see, before the walls curved away from the gates of the city.
"No." Jerome said, shaking his head. "These are no MPs. The king is marshaling troops. War is coming, and everyone knows it." There was a moment of silence as Jerome shook his head and grimaced. "That's why these people are gathering. They search for an outlet for their anger at being displaced. They're driven to this madness because of their fear. They know what is coming. They know that war is knocking at our borders." The Demacian soldiers started to part the crowds, two long strings of soldiers pushing through and then parting the crowds as they slowly started spreading the refugees, pushing them back towards the road. Many of the civilians were angered by this, and someone threw a glass bottle. It exploded on the ground near the horses. Silence spread through the crowd as several Demacian soldiers surged forward into the crowd and seized a man, dragging him off towards the gates.
"What will happen to him?" Quinn asked as the gates parted and the man disappeared within the cavernous gates. A second set of gates parted beyond, the cool gray of the sky beyond peaking through the doors, silhouetting the distant majesty of the Demacian city skyline.
"He shall be given a fitting punishment." Jerome said tightly. "I doubt he shall be given a serious sentence, there is no room for such minor transgressors in our prison, and when the Demacian army marches to war, it will be likely that there will be need for laborers. He will likely end up on a labor crew for a few weeks and then he will be released."
"Weeks?" Quinn stammered. "Isn't that a bit harsh?"
"You were raised in a small farming village, yes?" Jerome glanced over, an even expression on his face. "While I would not expect you to understand to convictions of those raised in service to the crown, the justice we desire should not be foreign to you. To us in the capital, even the smallest disturbance could lead to destruction when one strays from the Demacian way and the path of righteousness and justice. That man decided to try and incite violence within the anonymity of the crowd. However, there are few who can avoid the eyes of justice and the swift hand of Demacian Retribution. He will be dealt with appropriately." There was a moment of pause as he stopped for several seconds. "I doubt he will face serious punishment. No one has the time or desire for morons like him with the current goings on in Valoran."
"I see." Quinn murmured quietly.
"You think our methods cruel, no?" There was a thin smile that played over Jerome's face. "Perhaps you think us a fascist state who sends the secret police in to do the dirty work when someone does not agree with our methods or rules. Or maybe you think us cruel and disturbed to deal with our fellow man in such a harsh manner?"
"I've seen cruel." Quinn said softly. "And this is a barely a bad joke compared to what I've seen in my short lifetime. In my village, thieves had their hands cut off. I only saw it once, but I've seen the true terror of a small border town with too few peasants and too many soldiers and what happens when they collide. I've seen entire towns wiped from the face of Runeterra by the beast we call mankind, and I've seen the horrors brought on by even worse. I know the pain of losing those close to you and the cruelties and twistedness that is what we call… fate." Quinn shook her head. "For too long I've had no purpose, but now…" Quinn paused as the horses started forward. She snapped the reigns of the horse, pushing the horse into a canter, catching up with Nero and his men, and Lambert where he was draped over the flanks of the horse.
They passed through the gate, and there was a transformation. Gone were the rioters and the soldiers who policed them, replaced with an honor guard of Royal Guardsman, their horses clad in brilliant golds and silvers, amazingly brilliant blues that shown a deep royal color like the sky above, accented with whites as pure as snow, and reds as deep as blood. They fell in behind and in front of Quinn and Jerome, their banners snapping in the cold gusts of wind that cut down the streets like blades of ice.
The noise was deafening.
Everywhere, both left and right, on both sides of the street, there were people. Quinn had never seen so many in her life.
Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands. There was no end to the sea of cheering Demacians. They stretched out along the streets as far as they eye could see. Streamers fell from balconies lined with thousands more cheering and screaming. They waved flags of blue and gold proudly, their cheering and the roar of feet stomping and the staccato thunder of hundreds of thousands of men and women clapping and cheering for one person.
For Quinn.
For me.
"Take it in, young one, you earned it." Jerome said softly, a grin on his face as he watched the wonder mixed with terror playing across Quinn's face at the massive crowds.
"All of this?" Quinn spoke to herself, reaching up to put a hand on Valor. The bird was in aww, his eyes glancing about all over the place. He could barely contain his excitement, his wing tips quivering in disbelief and fear. Quinn looked up at Jerome. "Just for me? All I did was track down one man… Why all of this pomp and circumstance?"
"We're headed to the Palace." Jerome said firmly. "You may not know this, young one, but Demacia needs a hero right now. And that hero is you."
"Me?" Quinn mouthed as she looked up at the crowds that lined the streets and balconies. All of this is for... me?
Quinn smiled.
The king sat on his throne, looking down at Quinn as she approached and stopped just beyond the doorway into the massive hall. Hundreds of soldiers and officers filled the seats that lined each side of the massive room, banners falling from the rafters, thousands of civilians falling eerily silent as the tracker and Colonel Jerome entered the room.
Jerome laid a hand upon her shoulder. "Keep your head about you, girl, and you will do just fine."
Quinn nodded as Jerome moved forwards, stopping a handful of meters away from the steps up to the king's throne. Quinn blushed furiously as she felt the king and queen's eyes fell upon her and bowed before her cheeks could turn any more violently. Valor dropped down off her shoulder and hopped to Quinn's side before sweeping a wing across his chest and ducking his head. Quinn glanced up and blushed as the Queen smiled glowingly down at the your tracker. The king was silent for several moments before he leaned forward.
"You're younger than I thought." The king noted softly in the packed, but perfectly silent hall.
"Your highness?" Quinn asked, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?"
"My son and his guards speak very highly of you and your skills." The king mused, leaning back. "Two of your friends, I believe. Shyvana and a young corporal named Forsythe? The way they spoke of you, I expected many more years of experience to have weathered you so."
"You hardly look eightteen." The queen noted, smiling when Quinn blushed.
"I'm only seventeen, ma'am." Quinn said sheepishly.
"Your feats are even more impressive, still." The king remarked. "Do you know why I've asked you here today, young lady?"
I know the answer. Quinn let a momentary smile slide onto her face as she looked up at the king. But it would be in poor form to cut him off, wouldn't it? "I do not, my king."
"Very well." The king said softly, nodding slowly. "My apologies, as this will be slightly abbreviated from the full ceremony. You were summoned in recognition of the strengths you have shown as a warrior and a tracker. Colonel Dillich, if you please?"
"Of course, your highness." The colonel said, bowing at the waist to the king as he stepped forward and bowed at the waist to the gathered masses. "In the centuries and millennia past, there have existed many orders of knighthood which recognized the skill and honor of their members, in their service to the king and crown, and in defense of Demacia and her ideals, and the pursuit of the justice and chivalry displayed by all citizens of our great country.
"As a knight, you are so charged with upholding the highest standards of Demacian nobility, for you are a beacon of hope to all of her peoples. As a member of this hallowed Order of Valor, which consists of Knights and Masters of Arms, you are hereby recognized by your outstanding martial achievement and the qualities and abilities which marks you as a candidate for this great honor."
"Members of this Order of Valor are both mighty warriors and justicars of the Demacian people, and have shown their willingness to give their time in the benefit of the common weal. As such, you are to be recognized as a Valor Knight of Demacia. Come forward, Valor Knights of Demacia: the Majesties now call before them the companions of this Order of Demacian Valor Knights."
Quinn's mouth hung open as she realized what was happening. She felt her stomach turn over in her belly, butterflies fluttering low in her chest as Demacian Valor Knights stepped forward, sweeping along both sides of her in a slow, measured pace. Twenty in all, divided into two long lines flanked the aisle that lead to the raised Demacian throne. Each Knight drew his sword, the simultaneous draw of steel sending shivers down Quinn's spine. Twenty swords were crossed, held aloft before the knights brought them down in front of themselves as they dropped to their knees, the swords held before them, blade down, their hands clasped around the hilts.
Colonel Dillich cleared his throat, raising his face to thehall. "The Crown now calls Quinn to come before this Court and Company."
"Your Majesties, now before you stands Quinn, daughter of Wernher of Eywind Village, master of the Demacian wilds, defender of the crown, captor of the Noxian agent Lambert, and slayer of the monster, Kampf, who bears the arms, to wit: Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV." Jerome announced loudly, a thin smile playing over his lips. As Quinn rose to her feet and stepped forward one long stride, raising her head and chin, her face blushed furiously. The king rose from his throne, his hand resting on the saber that sat on his hip. The queen got to her feet as well, with a hand of assistance from the King. Quinn noticed she was pale and looked frail despite her regal aura and the proud smile she wore.
Quinn stood in awe as the king drew the sword from his belt, raising it to the sky, high above his head. She stood frozen in her tracks for several moments as he lowered his sword before him, his hands resting on the pommel. "Quinn, daughter of Wernher, are you willing to undertake the responsibilities of knighthood, and have you undertaken the accolades of knighthood that was offered to you six nights previously by the Prince of Demacia?"
Jarvan officially put me up for knighthood? Quinn frowned for a brief moment as she thought back. But when… six days? That was when… The revelation dawned on Quinn. When I first met Sergeant Major Perrywinkle and Jarvan with in the city, Jarvan said he would reward me for watching over Shyvana. Is this…? Quinn shook her head briefly as she steeled her expression. "I have."
"Then step forward. Colonel, the seal?" Colonel Dillich stepped forward, bearing an ornate wooden box. The king cracked the box open and withdrew a golden coin, slightly larger than common currency, held on a golden chain. "This seal has been passed from Valor Knight to Valor Knight throughout the ages of our great kingdom of Demacia. Let it now pass from Valor Knight to Valor Knight once again."
The king descended the first step and held the golden coin and chain towards a knight, clad in full ceremonial armor. The knight rose, and sheathed his sword, stepping forward and mounting the steps, accepting the coin and chain from the king. The queen stepped forward, raising her hands, spreading them to the crowd.
"Corporal Ellington Forsythe, Gunnery Sergeant Shyvana von Faust, and Sergeant Major Argus Perrywinkle, as friends and representatives of the one who has come before us for candidacy as a Valor Knight of Demacia, do you affirm that Quinn, daughter of Wernher, has grown in gentle virtue and chivalrous grace, the true hallmarks of a just and righteous Valor Knight of Demacia?"
Forsythe stepped forward, the chain and seal clutched in his hands. Quinn blinked twice, surprised by the realization that Forsythe had been with her the entire time. "May it please my Liege and Lady, that as the last remaining Knight of Exemplar Company, that having heard the counsel of my peers, and from my own certain knowledge, I am able to affirm that Quinn, daughter of Wernher of Eywind, is a chivalrous lady whose achievements on the field of battle has saved my life and the life of my prince on many occasion, and her prowess on the field of battle is only matched by the courtesy and concern for all of your Majesty's' kingdom."
Shyvana stepped forward, accepting the chain and seal from Forsythe. "Though I have not held this honor for long, I am able to affirm the bravery and righteousness of my friend and compatriot, Quinn, daughter of Wernher of Eywind. Her strength is both of mental fortitude and martial prowess, and her skills and friendships are chief amongst her possessions. She pursues her craft with the skill of an artisan, and shares her knowledge and practice within your Majesty's kingdom." Shyvana nodded at Quinn as the young candidate blushed at the words of her friend.
The sergeant major stepped forward and accepted the chain and seal from Shyvana. "I stand in the stead of my commander, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV, to express to you that Quinn, daughter of Wernher of Eywind, has given her all in seeing that justice is spread throughout our realm, from her home as a child, to the assistance and aide she offered to untoward civilians in the face of peril and mortal danger. It is with this outstanding evidence that I affirm that this candidate will freely give herself to the glory and defense of your Majesty's kingdom."
The sergeant major returned the seal and chain to the Queen before the three stepped backwards and to the side in unison, arraying on Quinn's flank. The king raised his sword up, the polished blade gleaming brilliantly. He held the blade before his face, hiding half of it behind the massive blade.
"Quinn, daughter of Wernher of Eywind, you have been volunteered as a candidate for Knighthood of the great nation of Demacia. Your peers and have deemed you fit for this highest of estates, and have indicated your willingness to accept this honor from our hands. Do you swear by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy that you will uphold justice, honor, and defend the crown and kingdom of Demacia?"
Quinn took a deep breath, her entire body quivering in excitement. "I do."
"That you will honor, defend, and protect the citizens of Runeterra and all that are weaker than yourself, no matter who they call master or where they call home?" The king's voice was proud and Quinn could feel the excitement in her body begin to rise as his voice swelled.
"I will." Quinn said as firmly as she could.
"That you will hold yourself to the highest standard of all that is just and fair in the world, honoring both the reputations and opinions of your peers?"
"I will." Quinn's stomach was now struggling to rip itself from her body.
"That you will serve for the glory and betterment of Demacia and her peoples in the eyes of Valoran and the denizens of Runeterra beyond, drawing your arms only for just cause? That you will enshrine in your heart the noble ideals of Justice to the benefit of your good name and the standing of Demacia?"
"I will." Quinn said after sucking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.
The king raised his blade above Quinn's head. "Then, having knowingly sworn these solemn oaths that we, Jarvan Lightshield III and Catherine Lightshield, by our right of arms and privilege as King and Queen of Demacia, name you a Valor Knight of Demacia, in the stead of my Son, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV. Please kneel."
Quinn nodded absently and kneeled before the king. "It is with this sword and by all that you hold sacred, true and bold…" King Jarvan tapped the shoulder on Quinn's left shoulder. "Once for honor," He tapped her on the right shoulder. "Twice for justice." He ran the broad side of the blade along Quinn's neck. "and thrice for Valor. Arise, Lady Quinn of Eywind."
The queen stepped forward and draped the seal and chain over Quinn's neck. "Accept this seal as your promise to the Demacian Order of Valor Knights, to which you promise to uphold and defend the justice of Demacia." There was a heavy but reassuring weight to the ornament as Quinn stood up.
A smile flashed over the king's face as he stood back, lowering his sword. "Your official rank will be that of a sergeant, but Colonel Jerome, with my permission, has extended the offer of a Lieutenant's Commission as a Ranger of Demacia. You can accept at your own discretion. While most knights are given swords, a knight of your specific talents will have a weapon and armor forged to fit your preferences and skills."
"Thank you, sir." Quinn said, bowing again, the metal thunking against her chest. She glanced at Jerome who nodded and smiled, and then down at Valor who was hopping about excitedly, his wings flapping wildly.
The queen stepped back and began to clap, the applause swelling and echoing through the massive hall. The cheers were deafening as Quinn turned to face the crowd.
"Now, let us feast in your honor, as a Valor Knight of Demacia!"
...
The rest of the night had passed in a blur of congratulations and cheers. Quinn had never been one for public gatherings, but the sheer number of hands she had shaken and the people she had met had been more than enough to overwhelm the young tracker. Valor's presence didn't help, as many men and women wanted a chance to pet or see the last of the Demacian Eagles. When she had finally managed to escape from the wing of the queen and the looming presence of the king, Quinn had sought out some peace and quiet.
Her search had lead her to a balcony overlooking the massive courtyard that sat in the center of the Demacian Palace. Quinn eased herself onto a railing, pulling one leg to her chest, resting her arm atop her knee. Valor had hopped onto her arm, nuzzling the young knight's cheek. Quinn set about unwrapping the eagle's wing. Valor hopped about and flapped several times. He seemed slightly off balance, but he continued to bounce about until he had managed to obtain short level bursts of flight. He flapped rapidly as he climbed onto the railing before diving off the balcony. He disappeared for a few seconds before climbing back into view and circling around quinn excitedly. He wobbled a bit, but he landed steadily on the railing again before hopping excited back onto her knee. He squawked excitedly, bringing a smile to Quinn's face,
Quinn took a deep breath and let her head hang back as she exhaled heavily. Well Caleb, Valor and I finally did it. I became a knight. I realized our dream. Quinn thought back to the words Jerome had spoken to her before disappearing, escaping from the madhouse that had developed in the ensuing festivities.
You have been Knighted. As such, you have obtained the rank of Sergeant. While you are free to do anything you wish in service to the crown, I do indeed invite you to serve with my Rangers. I will teach you everything that I know, and I hope that I might be able to garner some of the skill and intuition you showed in your fight with Lambert.
Quinn had graciously accepted, barely able to contain her excitement.
Valor nuzzled her her cheek again before lifting off, climbing for altitude in the cool evening air.
Quinn sighed and smiled as she pulled a small leather book from her cloak. Quinn opened the book to a fresh page and drew her quill pen, scratching out a few lines of text to commemorate the feelings of elation that still swirled in her chest.
[We've done it.
Valor and I brought the assassin to justice.
For our efforts we've been given the highest honors and a place amongst Demacia's elite - granted by Prince Jarvan himself. It's strange. For all my life, I dreamed of being here in the city. The streets are crowded. Even at dusk, I hear the sounds of voices from the courtyard.
I miss the leaves and the dirt beneath my feet and the silence of the forest.
Val feels it, too. He's ready for our next mission.
We're ready.]