Jarvan rose early the next morning to a world that was frosted in a thick layer of ice and snow. His body felt ragged and tired, and the poignant memories of laying in bed, staring at the ceiling cut into him like a knife. He sat down heavily at his desk, the chair creaking in protest of his weight as he eyed a murky cup of coffee left for him.
"Shyvana..." His voice cracked as he whispered the name, the pain of her absence cutting deeper than ever before. I wish I could see you now and apologize! I'd give anything to see you... Jarvan's hand quivered as he tried to lift the cup to his lips, spilling several drops upon the desktop. He eased the cup back and sighed softly, giving himself a moment to calm down. I can't function after last night. He tried against to pick the cup up, but the shaking seemed to have only gotten worse. Jarvan cursed silently, dropping the cup and massaging his hand. He closed his eyes, the memories of the last evening still fresh in his mind.
I made my way directly back to the Medical college, but it had already been closed for the evening and the guards were under strict orders not to give anyone entrance. He had to untangle his fist from his pant leg, slowly spreading his palm upon the desktop. I suppose I have father to thank for this, though. I don't suppose a bit more time to let me cool my head or for Shyvana to heal is necessarily a bad thing. Jarvan felt a pang of grief strike in his heart. I... I don't want this. I can't stand this. His fist laced around the arm of his chair, the wood protesting again as he tried to control his anger and grief. I need to get my mind off of this. Something. Anything. A blue and silver tapestry caught his eye as he gave his room a cursory glance for a approached the far wall, behind his desk and slightly to the right, against the wall that separated his bedroom and study, a tapestry hanging from the top, hiding a bookcase.
He tugged the tapestry aside and felt his frown slacken ever so slightly as he looked at the tangled spider web of different plots and occurrences about Runeterra that all tied back to Swain in one way or another. Perhaps I can make some sense of this now. Many of them had been carried out at Swain's orders if nothing else, but there was some larger game that they were all working towards. What could Swain be trying to accomplish by promoting war and inciting conflict? War is a bloody thing, and it wastes huge amounts of resources... Jarvan stopped and placed his finger on one of the top most threads and started following it down.
Birth of Swain. Border war flanking attack. Marshes of Kaladoun and the Death of Captain Bithowzer from mental insanity. Jarvan frowned as he ran his fingers along a number of similar occurrences that seemed to have various different unifying factors, often the presence of ravens as reported during after action reports from different officers. Jarvan stopped, his finger hovering over one of the notes that sat in the middle of one of the long strands. Swain attempts assassination of Jarvan IV. I remember the night well, it was cold and dark. He looked to the window. I had stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air when Swain had emerged from the shadows wit a crossbow aimed at my chest. Jarvan wore a thin grin. If it had not been for a guard announcing his presence, I would have been shot and killed. The guard didn't make it unfortunately. In Swain's excitement he had spun and immediately fired at the guard and killed the man in a matter of seconds, the fast acting poison coursing through his veins. Another guard had been waiting outside and had heard the first cry out as he died. Jarvan shivered. I suppose Swain's hatred of me does go back pretty far.
He followed the string a bit further down and paused his finger above the largest tie-in he had figured that Swain was indirectly involved in. The Noxian invasion of Ionia. Jarvan frowned. Demacian records on the subject had been thin. While Demacia prepared for war as the attack on Ionia came, request for aid never came from the Ionians. By the time the attack had ended, Noxus had a firm hold on several of the island nation's largest, southern-most provinces. Demacia cringed, standing idly by as Noxus tried to worm their way into the Ionian political system, attempting to force signatures and placing agents within the Ionian Government, to all but nullify the illegitimacy of their invasion and the violations of the Institute of War's rules. But that never panned out as expected. The Ionians proved more stubborn than many had suspected, and managed to repel the invasion of their political system, unlike they had done in their defense of their country. The invasion had been a bold and brash maneuver, and it had been expected to be carried out swiftly, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake, but things again didn't quite work out for the Noxians. Their stagnation had forced Noxus to extreme measures. Jarvan had seen pictures of the terrifying weapons that the Noxian's had employed to hasten their advance, often cutting down their own troops if they became waylaid. Fear and the desire for promotion drove most Noxian troops into a blood thirsty frenzy in the war torn country. It had been a long and bloody conflict for the Noxians, but they had made their mark in blood upon the Ionian nation.
Jarvan had been hesitant to put the entirety of the Noxian Invasion upon the board because unlike all of the other occurrences, there was no direct way to tie it to Swain. There had been several accounts of Swain's actions during the invasion, but surprisingly, there weren't outstanding or extraordinary. His unit had made a clean sweep as they advanced across the nation, avoiding most of the serious fighting and most of the stagnation. That was the first of the problems Jarvan had with the conflict. Swain never avoided conflict, rather, he thrived in it. His unit had been unmolested in its advance, but there was one report from an analyst that had piqued Jarvan's curiosity. In his analysis of the Ionian's defense of their nation, a Second Lieutenant Febevin had stated that many of Ionia's key cities and installations that order depended upon had been left woefully unguarded. The Provincial Warlords who ran each of the smaller states that made up Ionia had called back their troops to defend their own holdings in the south of Ionia, where the Noxian Invasion had stemmed from. Several major location, such as the Southern Temple of the Elders, one of the many meeting places of the Ionian High Council, had fallen easily with the surrounding city, leaving Swain and his men unmolested as they advanced. The provincial lords were also the reason the war had been so problematic. Though the capital had fallen, there were not enough troops to hold the city, the bulk of the Noxian army stymied by the Ionian forces appearing where they were not expected, guerrilla tactics and desperate power they seemed to glean from their own nation's defense. Swain had quickly been forced out of the capital as the Ionians counterattacked.
This had left Swain without anything to his name. He had been unable to prove his strength rather than that he was just a competent commander in a poor situation. He had been unopposed at first and then vastly out numbered and lacking for supplies. He faced annihilation and retreated due to the failure of the Noxian Army, but he bore a mantle of shame when he was withdrawn from the conflict to attend to domestic matters. The officers who had swept up through the countryside to the east had faced the worst of the war, often dealing with heavy fighting and dangerous traps laid by ruthless Ionian commanders once they had realized what was happening. Swain was betrayed by his own tactical brilliance. He had counted on the corruption of nobles, but not their sense of self preservation. Jarvan sighed, shaking his head. Swain drove the dagger deep, seeking fame, but eventually everything else around him failed and the house of cards came down. Ionia was supposed to be his moment of glory, not shame.
Jarvan tapped the scrap of paper thoughtfully but finally frowned, nodding his head. Ionia was a failure for Swain, not the actual Military success. He may have had a hand in its happening, but he didn't get what he wanted from it. But what does he want? Jarvan growled and shook his head, that large, singular question remaining hanging in his mind. Swain had not been a part of the initial Noxian-Ionian match within the Institute of war, and the rematch as well had been out of his hands, both leading to woeful loss for Noxus. These seem like failures for Swain. He was not allowed to make his mark, or there was no progress. Perhaps it drove him to more radical means?
Jarvan ran his hand over several more scraps of paper until he landed on one scrap that gave him pause. The sinking of the DDS excursion, with all hands lost and signs of Noxian Necromancy. Jarvan glowered as his finger hesitated over the the scrap of paper. What did Swain gain from having a ship sunk? The Excursion was simply a merchant vessel, was it not? Jarvan paused, thinking. What if it was not the ship that Swain desired, but its cargo or a passenger ? Jarvan turned back towards the large table in the center of his study and started flipping through the records, searching for the copy of records he had received from his friend, Garen Crownguard, regarding the sinking. Here it is. He pushed through the first few pages of the folder, flipping through the content till he paused at the ship's manifest. If there was anything suspicious about the manifest or the passengers... He frowned as he read over the long list of cargo, numerous different items listed that were being shipped back from the Freljord. Even if there was something amiss with this manifest, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Jarvan frowned and then pulled the document, sticking it in his pocket and then looking for another document contained with in the file. He flipped through several more pages and finally found the crew and passenger list. He looked through it quickly, noting that the ships had several notes on it about the final three crew members. They had been guards that had been assigned to the ship at the last moment due to the sickness of several of the ship's standing guard detachment.
If anyone were to try something, these guards would have been in the perfect position to make it happen. Jarvan pulled the list out as well and took it and the cargo manifest in hand, turning back to the board. Perhaps I can go down to the docks and ask around after I check on Shyvana. Maybe Deadeye is familiar with a Marlin class cargo sloop. He can help me. He paused for a second, tucked the papers under his arm and turned back to his desk, grabbing a sheet of parchment and a quill. He scribbled two notes down on the bottom of the sheet of parchment and then neatly tore two squares off and fished two thumbtacks out of his desk.
Turning back to the make shift map, he followed the main trail, a strand of red thread, down from the attack on the DDS excursion and that dead end to where a scrap of paper read 'Disappearance of Marcus Du Couteau: promotion of Swain to high command'. The stand of red string hung limply from that and Jarvan smiled, taking it in hand. Jarvan posted the first of the two scraps of paper: 'Noxian-Ionian Rematch: Ionia regains freedom.' He wrapped the thread around the thumbtack as he pushed it into the spine of a book. He took the second and pushed it in slightly below the first: 'Assassination attempt of Shyvana, Demacian Palace.' Jarvan attached the red string to that and then let it hang, taking several steps backwards and then looking at the latest of the two. It may not have been directly aimed at me, but it was definitely aimed towards me. Agitation or angering me wouldn't directly serve to gain Swain anything though, would it? Jarvan frowned, looking the map up and down. Damnit. Another dead end. I'm afraid what might happen if I spend anymore time waiting.
Jarvan stepped back and frowned, looking over his map of terror and the trail of pain that had been inflicted upon Runeterra. Something is missing. Some unifying factor... something just isn't here!
"But what..." Jarvan growled aloud. "It's almost as if there is a trail and then a bunch that are just... out of place." He walked his hand down the string, still hesitating on some but he ended up growling and shaking his head. I still can't place it, but something seems... off!
Jarvan shook his head and stood back, still pondering the board but a knock interrupted his thoughts. A smile spread over his face as he stood up taller, excitedly. That should be the Sergeant Major! Time to go mend things and visit with Shyvana. The prince took a deep breath to collect his nerves. He tucked the sheets that displayed the Excursion's cargo manifest and crew and passenger list into his jacket pocket, folding them up as he did. This can wait. I have something important to attend to now!
The knock came again, this time more urgently.
"I'm coming." Jarvan said, frowning, shaking his head as he headed to the door, tugging his jacket over his shoulders. He opened the door and blinked a few times, surprised to see Delancey standing there. "Del? What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Shyvana?"
"Vorscham sent Alicia to check in on her when a messenger arrived looking for you, thinking you'd be there." She looked agitated, but she took a quick breath, trying to reign her excitement in before she continued. "There's been a... problem, sir."
"Is Shyvana alright?" Jarvan snapped, surprise and anger jumping into his voice.
The anger and vehemence in Jarvan's tone obviously caught the sergeant off guard. She stumbled back half a step and glared at Jarvan. She worked her jaw for a second as if to slowly break herself from the shock. "Don't worry, sir, she's perfectly fine." Delancey shook her head as Jarvan sighed in relief. "Something has happened down at the docks."
"Something happened?" Jarvan said, blinking a few times, frowning. "I was there last night, did something happen to the sergeant major or sergeant Lee?"
"Lee was at the docks last night?" Delancey said, surprise again clear upon her face. She shook her head again and frowned slightly. "Never mind. The Sergeant Major is already on the scene, that's why he's not here." Delancey said hurriedly. "I'm not sure what happened, but there is a big fuss right now. DSB requested your presence, sir."
"DSB?" Jarvan blinked a few times, frowning. What does Jormander want now? Jarvan's jaw dropped slightly as things keyed into place. Lee said he was monitoring me to see if I was mentally competent... If last night says anything, Shyvana and I might be in trouble! Jarvan's hands convulsed into fist and he punched the air in frustration. Goddamnit! Lee, you snake. you fooled me again! Jarvan forced a calmer expression on his face, but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, he knew Del would know how felt. "I already have plans, sergeant." Jarvan said through gritted teeth. Delancey withered slightly as pain appeared on her face as if she were pulling a nail from her foot.
"Apologies, sir, but your presence has been ordered by General Jormander and I can't do anything about it." Delancey said softly, a hurt expression still lingering on her face. "I'm just passing the message on."
Jarvan ran a hand through his hair as he stepped away from the sergeant and took a deep breath to calm himself. He turned back to her and nodded tersely. "Apologies for my tone, sergeant. I am slightly on edge."
"Of course, sir." Her voice had become slightly withdrawn. There's a carriage waiting for you at the front entrance, sir. The matter is supposedly very urgent."
Jarvan frowned, trying to think if anything else could have caused this urgency. If Lee had been following me and had caught me saying or doing something wrong I wouldn't be going down to the docks on DSB orders... I would be in DSB custody. Jarvan's frown darkened as he shook his head, banishing the foul thoughts from his head. What in the world is going on? He turned to her and fit her with a deathly serious glare, taking her slightly aback.
"Are you sure Shyvana is safe?" Jarvan said, leaning slightly towards the sergeant. Del took a half step backwards as she looked up at Jarvan's expression. He nodded her head quickly.
"I'm sure, sir." Del said, glancing to the floor. "Alicia Juniper is with her, and there are multiple Victoria Company soldiers on guard with her. They came with orders from Vorscham to stand guard over the two of them."
Always a step ahead of me, Proudmast. Jarvan let the tension in his shoulder slacken only slightly.
"We should hurry, sir." Delancey said quietly, as if afraid to speak to him. He started towards the door and paused, glancing down at her.
She doesn't deserve this treatment. Jarvan sighed softly and stood up a bit straight, patting her on the shoulder and offering her a weak smile. "Thanks, Del." Jarvan said quietly.
She watched him, expressionless but she finally nodded and gestured to the door.
The sound of the wheels striking the cobblestone lined streets and the howling wind assaulting the side of the carriage had drowned out of most of the silence through most of the city. There had been an awkward silence that hung over the carriage as it rolled jumpily along, and Jarvan had eventually just closed his eyes to step himself from continuously glancing at Delancey.
"Shyvana has been worried sick about you, I hope you know." Delancey murmured as the carriage trundled along. Delancey's words had caused Jarvan to open his eyes and look up, a frown cresting his face as he met her gaze. Anger tinged her eyes and furrowed her brow. "You had her in tears when you stormed out last night, sir." Jarvan winced at the way she hissed the last word. He sat up and leaned forward, staring at the floor of the carriage as his shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. He ran both of his hands over his face and sat back, not bothering to hide the pain he felt.
"I know." Jarvan said softly, letting his head fall back against the wall of the carriage. "I've been worried sick about her." He bunched the bottom of his tunic up in his hands as fists tightened atop his legs. "I couldn't sleep last night. I only managed to calm myself this morning by working over all of my notes. I could barely concentrate as it were. I could hardly see straight enough to read." There was tension and regret in his face that gave the sergeant pause. "I was in a pitiful state last night, worse than I've ever acted. I was petty and rash and a massive fucking idiot all at once. I screwed up bad and I know it."
"I would hope so, sir." Delancey said softly, uncomfortable as she intently glared at the ground. "I know I'm just a lowly bodyguard and only a sergeant before a prince, but it pains me to see the two of you at odds." She refused to meet Jarvan's surprised glare.
Jarvan sunk back slightly, letting the bounce of the carriage knock his head about. "I suppose I should say thank you for the support, but I don't exactly know if it's a good thing that you care so much about my love life, Del."
"A simple thank you would suffice." She said, shaking her head. "I may not be very old, but I understand the hardship that has come from your separation from her and the immense stress that both of you are under right now. While I think you're a god damned fool for taking your anger out on her yesterday, I don't know if I can't understand the weight that's on your shoulders. I suppose I understand it a bit better than most, but the fighting with your father... it's unsettling at times, even for me. I can only imagine how Shyvana feels."
"I know." Jarvan said softly, nodding his head. "My father and I have never really seen eye to eye. He likes to think and to plan and to talk, while I prefer a much more headstrong approach when it comes to problem solving."
"You would rather charge through the brick wall rather than walk around?" Delancey said with a sly grin finally breaking onto her face.
Jarvan chuckled aloud and leaned forward, finally smiling. "Yeah, though my father would try to talk it into moving out of the way." He shook his head, running a hand through his long hair as he sank back, the smile withering. "It's a fundamental difference I suppose. He sought out armistices while I suffered through training on the front lines and seeing how much pain Noxus could inflict in even the smallest of ways. I never understood why Demacia preaches its own absolute strength and then father refused to go blow for blow with the Noxians. For every ounce of blood I witnessed spilled, I wished my father would spill two in response, but he refused to do anything."
"But he was doing something, wasn't he?" Delancey said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest, swaying slightly as the carriage passed over a nasty bump.
"He was perpetuating the peace, gathering information and making sure a full on war did not break out, yes." Jarvan said, nodding his head. "I was blind to the larger game when I was younger, often questioning his methods and the inane choices he made at times. I only wish I knew what he was thinking now."
"It seems political at best." Delancey said with a slight frown. "Could it simply about learning a lesson, sir? Perhaps he's trying to teach you something."
"I can't imagine what it could be though." Jarvan said somberly. "I was chasing glory, trying to escape my father's shadow and it only led me further into the darkness. I emerged stronger after finding Shyvana. She finally made me realize what power could be: It wasn't about slaying something and proving my strength to others, it was about protecting what I loved at all costs. She is the source of my strength... why can't he see that?"
"Maybe he hasn't seen it yet, though." Delancey said with a frown. "He may be just as stressed as you with all of the problems you've dealt with. He probably has to deal with them as well." Jarvan frowned at the thought and remained silent. Delancey coughed and tried to push onwards. "Can I ask you a question, sir?"
Jarvan looked up, though in his pale bluish gray eyes, Delancey could see that the edge of the pain had softened slightly. "Sure, Del, I owe you that much at least."
"You and Shyvana killed the dragon that slew her father and your men. Isn't that just bloodshed, rather than protecting something you love?" Delancey said with a frown pulling on her lips.
"At the time we were protecting something, Del." Jarvan said softly. "Each other, Valoran, and what we thought to be a ruthless and vengeful threat to the sanctity of the world. Kampf was a heartless beast driven to two things: Shyvana's death and the eradication of anything he didn't see as strong enough to live on his twisted version of Runeterra. So we killed him to protect everything. It may have been a vengeance for Shyvana's father and my men... but it was so much more than that."
"I see." Delancey said softly, nodding her head. "Can I-..."
"Another question?" Jarvan said, grinning thinly as he looked at Del. "I don't see why you should stop now."
"Yes sir." Delancey said, blushing in embarrassment as she nodded. "When you returned to Demacia, your best friend was revered as a hero and your... " She frowned, looking for the word.
"Failure?" Jarvan suggested, a bit of sadness and the soft tone of oppression hanging in his voice.
"I wouldn't call it that, sir." She said, looking to the floor. "I don't think anyone could have predicted what happened to you and your company." Jarvan frowned but Delancey kept going. "Your best friend was the hero and you were haunted by the specter of your shattered company. Is that the only reason you fled Demacia with the twelve survivors in tow?" Delancey asked quietly, ducking her head to avoid a potentially angry glare from Jarvan.
"Yes and no." Jarvan said calmly, not letting his temper flare. "It was partially to escape my shame and partially to avoid the scorn of the public eye once it came out that I had led the men to the ambush. I couldn't live with myself like that, and I ended up leaving Demacia until I had proven to myself that I was deserving of the mantle I had been given."
"That was a noble cause." Delancey said, trying to sound cheerful, though the remark died in the somber tone of the carriage. "And I assume you found your resolve while you were gone?"
"Yes and no." Jarvan said again, an amused smile playing over his face. "I found I had the strength and willpower to face the worst of Runeterra, but after nearly two years, I still lacked the resolve I wished to find."
"What changed in those last few months?" Delancey whispered quietly.
"Two things came crashing into my life." Jarvan said, a grin threatening to break onto his face. "The first descended upon my men and I and killed several of our number. That was the dragon I spoke of, Kampf. The second came shortly afterwords. The second... The second thing was something completely unexpected." Jarvan now wore a smile as he sighed softly.
"What was that?" Delancey said with a grin, practically hanging off the edge of her seat, literally and figuratively.
"I met a dirty young woman, dressed in rags and deep red hair, standing over the corpse of a slain dragon." Jarvan said now grinning broadly.
"Shyvana?" Delancey said, surprised. Jarvan nodded.
"She lashed out and attacked me, I subdued her and from there... the rest is history." Jarvan laughed.
"She tried to kill you?" Delancey repeated, alarmed. "And you fuc—I mean you fell in love with her?"
Jarvan snorted. "There was a lot in between our meeting and our relationship maturing as such." Jarvan said, glaring at the woman for a few moments. "We slew the dragon that had killed the few survivors of my company left alive, and we were drawn into a plot that now embroils us all. At first I had thought that the dragon had been drawn into the conflict, but now, I don't actually if that was true or if that was just something I pieced together to try and make sense of it all at the time." The prince shrugged. "Regardless, I had found the resolve I was missing, though it took me a few months to figure that out."
"You found it in Shyvana?" Delancey said, surprised.
Jarvan nodded again. "Her dedication to her father, though he had been slain, was startling and brutal. It reminded me that while I did not appreciate my father as I should, and I may have been out seeking my own glory, I should defend Demacia with the same ferocity and dedication that Shyvana showed when she stood over the body of her father." Jarvan sighed and sunk back slightly in his seat. "I may not appreciate my father, and at times I actively hate him, but he was right about one thing."
"What is that, sir?" Delancey said, frowning.
"There is no bond stronger than blood." Jarvan said softly, closing his eyes.
"I know of one that is just as strong, sir." Delancey said, blushing slightly.
Jarvan opened his eyes and looked to the sergeant, surprised by her blushed cheeks. "Oh?"
"Love, sir." She said, ducking her head to hide her eyes. "The bond you and Miss Shyvana have is strong, sir." Jarvan blinked a few times, staring at the sergeant. She glanced up at him and then back down to the ground. "Apologies sir! I didn't mean to jump into your personal life again!" Jarvan laughed aloud, shaking his head and sighing after a few long moments. He wore a lopsided smile as he met Delancey's grin.
"You know, Del, I think you're right." Jarvan said, grinning. "Forged in the fires of iron, blood and anger, that bond is truly strong. I may have tried to break it yesterday, but I hope that when Shyvana and I emerge, that bond will have only been forged from iron to steel." His smile fell slightly, and a sad, distant look settled on his face. "I just hope I just get the chance to say how sorry I am and how big of an idiot I've been."
"You will, sir." Delancey said happily, grinning from ear to ear. The carriage lurched to a halt and Delancey glanced out the window. She turned to the prince and nodded. "We're here, sir." Jarvan nodded in response, wrapping his scarf around his neck and tucking the ends into his jacket. Delancey started to open the door, but Jarvan grabbed her arm. She looked back over her shoulder. "Sir?"
"For the record, Del, Thanks." Jarvan said, sheepishly. "I made a bit of an ass out of myself last night, and I wanted to thank you for hearing me out."
"Anytime, sir." She said, nodding. "Perhaps you should just talk things out next time. I've found that it's a bit easier that way."
Jarvan chuckled. "That it is." Delancey pushed the door open and clambered down, Jarvan following her as he pulled on his gloves. He looked left and right, catching the gaze of the sergeant major who was deep in conversation with a lieutenant from the the DSB. Jarvan nodded to sergeant major who turned back to the Lieutenant, said a few words, snapped off a salute and then walked over, using his long strides to hasten his advance rather than jogging. The sergeant major snapped to attention and saluted.
Jarvan returned the salute, dropping it quickly. "What do you have for me, sergeant major?" Jarvan said briskly as the carriage pulled off, exposing Jarvan to the biting wind.
"Apologies for not being there this morning, sir." The sergeant major growled, casting a glance over his shoulder. I went for a drink last night after returning you to the palace and ran into an officer from the DSB I had been pretty chummy with."
"You? Friends?" Delancey teased with mock shock. Jarvan grinned, but their words were quickly quelled by the look on the sergeant majors face.
"I'll see to it you get to run laps until you puke, Delancey." He growled menacingly. "Don't push me." She paled slightly and nodded. "Good, now, the officer was summoned just as we were getting to the tavern, and while I only caught a snippet of what the courier was saying, it was enough to cause me to look into the incident this morning."
"What's going on, sergeant major?" Jarvan said, tucking his gloved hands into his pockets. "Nobody seems willing to tell me what's actually happening here."
"Yes sir." The sergeant major said, nodding. "There was a man found murdered in that alley last night." He pointed to a narrow break between a large granite structure that Jarvan assumed were a warehouse and a tavern. Jarvan frowned slightly, vaguely recognizing the shape of the building.
That looks like the tavern I was at last night. Jarvan straightened his tunic. "That happens from time to time, sergeant major. The docks are a rough place, even here in Demacia."
"That's not exactly the case, sir." The sergeant major's frown darkened and he gestured for Jarvan to follow him. "If you'll follow me, it gets a bit difficult to explain." Jarvan nodded, following the sergeant major as he pushed through the thin crowd of dock workers that had nothing better to do than stand around and ogle the military police as they carried out their business. "The victim was found late last night by a drunk who had stumbled out of the tavern for a leak. He reported it to the Military Police who in turn handed it over to DSB after finding a few articles on the so called 'victim'."
"Wait, so he wasn't the victim?" Jarvan said with a frown, moving past several uniformed Demsec soldiers.
"Well he was, but he's not who we initially thought." The sergeant major said ominously. They approached a cluster of men who had crowded around the side of one of the granite walls, talking in low voices.
"General." The sergeant major said, raising his voice slightly. One of the men leaned backwards and looked to the sergeant major and Jarvan behind him. The prince's stomach fluttered and flip-flopped in his body, a grim frown settling on his face.
"Ah, Prince Jarvan." General Geoffrey Jormander wore a thin smile as he stepped away from the group, moving towards where the prince stood rooted to the ground. Jarvan saluted promptly, as did Delancey, and the general returned the salute after a few moments. "Thank you for coming this morning, I hope I didn't pull you away from anything?"
"Nothing I had actually managed to start, at least." Jarvan said, shaking his head.
"How is your dragon friend?" The general said amicably, an easy smile on his face. "I heard there was a bit of a disturbance yesterday at the medical college?"
"Just a misunderstanding with some of my staff." Jarvan said tersely. "I was hoping I'd be able to sort the rest of it out today when I went to see her this morning, but it seems that circumstances are conspiring to keep me apart from her today."
"I'm sorry for that, I truly am." The general said, warding off the prince's frown as he raised a hand. "I had no idea that you had plans this morning, but I needed your help with something."
"My help?" The prince said, blinking a few times, trying and failing to hide his surprise.
The general nodded. "Something we found on our murder victim makes us think that you may have had something to do with the man."
"I was in the area drinking last night while I cleared my head, but that was about it." Jarvan said, frowning as he scratched his cheek, trying to remember what he had done the evening before in the docks. He grimaced: It had mostly been an embarrassing mess of moping and distraught pain. "I more or less wandered into the area, had a drink, and that was when Sergeant Lee found me and offered to escort me home."
"So I heard." The general said, nodding. "Here, have a look at this." He accepted a case from one of his officers and extended it to the prince. Jarvan accepted the box, surprised by how cold the surface of it felt, even through his gloves.
"What is it?" Jarvan said with a frown. The general simply gestured to the box. Jarvan cracked the lid on the box and opened it. Steam poured from the box even in the chilly winter air, as Jarvan looked at the content. There were four narrow rods, about half as long as Jarvan's forearms lain into four of the five slots of the case. One end of the blackish-blue rods had been sharpened to a point, and the opposite ends had been shaped into the three points of an arrow's fletching. "Crossbow bolts?" Jarvan said, taking a wild guess as he looked at the contents of the box. "They look as if they're made of some sort of dark ice..."
"Yep." The general muttered with a tight lipped frown. "The ice is as hard as steel and it's colder than the surrounding air temperature by roughly a hundred degrees." Jarvan blinked a few times and then looked back down at the bolts, surprise on his face. "There's more. You remember the bolt that was removed from your shoulder a week ago, the one you were shot with when you were defending your dragon friend?"
"I do. I had a shard that was still stuck in my body that didn't melt and was somehow poisoning me." Jarvan said, his free hand jumping to his shoulder unconsciously. "Don't tell me this is a match?"
"We haven't been able to compare them yet, but from what I've seen, I'd be willing to bet that they were the same." Jormander gestured to a crossbow and a small quiver of other assorted bolts that a Demsec officer carried past. "We also recovered a number of different bolts and his crossbow, which was folded up under his jacket. We suspect that he was the marksman working with the other soldier that was killed in the break in."
I suppose this explains what what sergeant Lee was doing here last night. I owe the man an apology. Jarvan nodded, closing the case and handing it off to one of the Demsec officers. "And he was just drinking in the tavern?" Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I would have thought your surveillance better than that, General."
"It is better than that." The general growled. "However, much of my intelligence efforts have been focused on Noxus and Kalamanda in the past few moments, not towards the city itself. It's unfortunate, but considering how far into the city he made it, I'm not surprised he was hiding in plain sight. But this was not on my men's orders."
"I suppose." Jarvan murmured, shaking his head. "How did he die?" The general motioned for Jarvan to follow him as he moved towards the cluster of officers.
"We've found multiple stab wounds, though his throat was cut for the actual killing blow." The general frowned. "Bent the head forwards and slit it, deep, almost beheaded the bastard. Knife wounds in his right calf from a disabling throw, and then a deep stab wound in the shoulder that looked to disable his arm. He wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't going to be fighting back with wounds like that, brutal, but very professional. Then there are several more stab wounds that were deeper, rapidly inflicted on the body in several place. Very amateurish, driven by anger or passion."
"So we have a hostile marksman who's the victim of both a mugging and a professional hit that wasn't done by your man?" Jarvan said raising an eyebrow.
"They were on strict orders to apprehend the perpetrators, not kill." The general said, shaking his head. "I aim to gather information, Prince, not to bury it. Still, I suspect the killer knew the man, or at least knew what he had done."
"So there's more of them out there?" Jarvan said, surprised. "You're sure it wasn't one of your men?" It wasn't Lee?
"While we do indeed teach the neck trick, it prevents the spray of blood, we've trained out men to be decidedly less bloody in their work." Jormander said with a grimace, gesturing to the multiple stab wounds.
"And here I thought you enjoyed the use of violence." Jarvan said, tight lipped.
"It has its uses." The general said, giving Jarvan a snake like smile. "But the killer knew what this man was capable of and what he had done in Demacia. It was violent, as if he had stabbed the man several times after the fact just for the hell of it, like he was taking his anger out on the man." The general's eyes narrowed. "And before you ask, we know it was the same man with the same weapon, because the shape of the wounds all match the same pattern, and there is signs of blood being on the blade as it was used to stab him, fresh, not dried."
"So what do you want with me?" Jarvan said with a frown, raising an eyebrow. The general snapped his fingers and the officers behind him stepped out of the way. Jarvan's jaw dropped.
"Wait a minute, Deadeye?" Jarvan recognized the man instantly, his oily black cloak, though powered with snow, stood out. His skin was a shade of blue as if he had frozen solid, but Jarvan recognized the man's short black Mohawk and the spiderweb of scars that came from one of his eyes. Blood had poured down his face and frozen there, a deep, new wound etched in his skull, as if someone had dug out his ruined eye socket. A knife with a ribbon of colors folded into the blade, with a gentle curve to the blade lay covered in blood in the man's lap. And another knife! Jarvan's stomach felt queasy at the sight of the dead man, but the knife cause him to shiver violently. That is an exact match to the blade that was used to try and kill me in Noxus.
"You knew this man?" The general said, feigning surprise.
"Yes... well... no." Jarvan said, shaking his head, trying to piece together what was going on. "I thought he was a sailor, at least that's what he said last night when I had a drink with him. I chatted with him for a little while before I ran into Lee. I had no idea who he was to be honest."
"And you accepted a drink from him?" Jormander said, incredulously.
"I was in a bar, jam packed with guards and sailors." Jarvan shook his head. "He was a nice enough guy, and offered to buy me a drink and listen to my grievances. We talked for a bit, I drank a mug of coffee and then when he went and got me another Sergeant Lee ran into me, literally, and spilled the second cup of coffee down my front. That was when he disappeared and I left with the sergeant." Jarvan frowned. "We met the sergeant major not but a few blocks from here and the sergeant turned me over. From there we went back to the medical college, and then back to the palace right after."
"I can confirm the last bit, sir." The sergeant major said officiously. "I escorted the Lieutenant Colonel from when we met Sergeant Lee to the medical college. We were promptly turned away by guards and the prince retired for the evening."
"Is that so?" The general mused, frowning slightly. He shook his head, turning to one of the Demsec officers who stood by, waiting for orders. "Captain, take this man into custody for questioning."
"What?" the sergeant major snapped, surprised.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Jormander?" Jarvan snarled as two of the Demsec soldiers stepped forth and grappled Jarvan's arms. They bent his arms behind his back and slapped cuffs on the prince, holding him firmly as Jarvan growled and tried to jerk his arms free.
"Let him go this instance!" Delancey snapped, stepping forth and drawing two vicious looking knives, stepping up behind the guards and putting the knives to their throats.
"Del!" Jarvan snapped.
"Easy does it, now!" General Jormander said, a smile spreading on his face at the sergeant's bold moves. Delancey growled as menacingly as her high pitched voice would allow, the blades still pressed dangerously close to the Demsec officer's throats. "Call off your dog, prince, or your other bitch may end up getting a few visitors later today." His smile did not diminish, but there was no warmth in the gesture. Amusement and a vicious coldness swam in his eyes as he looked at the prince, daring him to let her continue. "It'd be best to cooperate, Prince Jarvan. I didn't want to sink back to threats, but you've forced my hand." He tried to look regretful, but he couldn't pull the smile from his face. Such a defenseless young woman, left all alone... there are dangerous men in this city..."
Jarvan glared at the man with anger burning in his eyes, but as he snarled, the sound died in his throat, his shoulders falling as he sighed. "Del. That's enough."
"But sir!" She protested.
"Del!" Jarvan shouted. "I didn't do anything but have a drink. I don't have anything to hide."
"I'll be the judge of that." Jormander chuckled coldly.