Chapter 1
The synchronized clicks of metallic marching boots against stone cobs on the streets of Demacia could be heard everywhere within the city. The ranks of Noxian troops marched sternly in neat files with the banners of Noxus wavering high in the lifeless wind. Not a single sign, symbol or flag of Demacia could be seen undisturbed. Most were already torn off, some burnt into an unrecognizable charcoal while some shredded into several strands of its former glory. Up above, Noxian airships dotted the grey, cloudy skies in perfect formations. They flew over the gloomy city like a giant snare, trapping all of Demacia in its grasp. It was an exaggerated show of military might and power over the fallen Demacians.
The denizens had been kept in their ragged houses, only daring to peek out through ripped curtains or cracks of doors ajar. The menacing troops would march over, the endless sounds of their boots over the cold hard ground beating into the hearts of the Demacians. Even in the streets, everyone had an emotionless cask on their faces. No eyes would meet for they were only trained on the floor. No one had dared to look a Noxian straight in the eyes for the last time it had happened, it had resulted in a riot followed by a the executions of a thousand people. There were no life in the alleys crowded with people, no sound but the endless marching and no joy but the dark grey skies.
The entirety of the city had now been transformed into what resembled a slum, a mockery of its former glory. All the wealthy Demacians had either been purged of their wealth and property or executed if they had any political influence. The middleclass along with the poor, the majority of the populace, had mostly been transferred into the ragged slums around the city outskirts. The Royal Palace in the city's heart has been cleared and abandoned, turning into an empty building, void of any life and soul. Entering the city's core was strictly forbidden as it had become official Noxian grounds for their own, wicked purposes.
All over the place, speakers were booming constantly to remind the Demacians of their current fate.
"Denizens of Demacia! The rule of Noxus is now the rule of Demacia, everyone caught breaking the law, no matter the crime, shall be appropriately punished according to customs set by His Excellency, Grand Marshal of Valoran, Jericho Swain. Remember that your daily rations have recently been reduced by quarter piece of bread and ten grams of sugar. You are expected to receive your meals as normal and not to stir. If anyone is caught resisting the new changes, then the sentence shall be treason and death," the commanding voice thundered through the city air.
At the notion of reduced rations, many of the Demacians living in their shacks dreaded. Their hungry stomachs could not stand much more, let along the starved children. Desperate parents, and often even the frail elderly, have been fighting for food and water for their families. Chaotic crime has been running rampant in the ghettos with little intervention from the Noxian guards. It was their own way of weaving out the Demacian population and their way of causing suffering.
"Furthermore, the former King of Demacia, Lightshield the Third, has been captured, arrested and tried and found guilty of treason and conspiring against Noxus and peace. He shall be executed this afternoon at 3 o'clock precisely by guillotine and all Demacians must witness this event! There are no exceptions!"
It was the last straw. The mentioning of their King's death was too much for them. At this instant in the western sector of the city, an escalating crowd of angry Demacians rose out of their shacks and tents and marched against the city's walls, now guarded by ranks of Noxian archers. The Demacians were all a unified brown in their dirty rags.
"Free our King! Free our King! Free our King!" the chant quickly caught on. The mob had stood before the tower walls with the rows of archers aiming their arrows down below. Yet this did not deter the Demacians who had strands of their former pride and determination remaining.
"Free our King! Free our King!" the chant continued.
From the city walls, the gates opened and out poured a battalion of Noxian riders upon their black horses and donned in dark armor. They had their weapons drawn as they quickly filed out and surrounded the mob.
"Silence! Silence! I will not have disorder in my camp, silence you filthy wretches!" the captain of the cavalry ordered with a deep, harsh voice. He was a man of many battles with wicked scars running down his face and arm. There would be no compassion from this man.
"I said, silence! Or I will give the order to fire!" the captain ordered again.
Still, the mob had no intention of resting. They were throwing their fists in the air, chanting at their loudest. They had lived this humiliating life long enough and now, they wanted to take action. Then, one man from the mob stood out. He had a large, burly build with similar scars to the Noxian captain, suggesting a former soldiery status.
"Hmph, even if we stayed silent, what will change. Our lives will only keep being miserable, and this is all at the work of you Noxians! My twin daughters died last night because one of your men had come to our home and stole all our food and medicine. My wife had ended her life after that and you dare to tell us to stay silent?! We've had enough! We are hungry, angry but we still have our pride! Free our King! Free our King!" the man angrily hollered.
With that, the mob grew even more restless, their chanting now spreading to nearby sectors. The horses that the Noxians rode upon began to grow weary, neighing and hoofing the ground as order continued to deteriorate.
"That is it! If you want to die so bad, be my guest," the captain said. Then, he lifted his arm up and waved his finger, giving the signal to the archers above to let loose. Without any hesitation, the sounds of several hundred bows being fired filled the area, followed by the thuds of arrows embedding themselves into flesh and ground. Agonized screaming rang through the place before the mob expanded and charged unarmed at the Noxians.
Another revolt had rose and was crushed. The outnumbered and out-armed Demacian were slaughtered like pigs before the gates. Their bodies filled the now bloody ground as the Noxians began to pile them up before sending them all to the crematorium like a daily routine. Then, as though nothing had happened, the riders retreated back into the city and the archers returned to their posts.
The low rumbling of the skies above gave the auspices of a thunderstorm. Their grey, lifeless clouds drifted over the vast expanse of desert wasteland and casting their shadows over the people who had not seen the sun for ages. The endless sands blanketed the whole of the area between the city of Noxus and Demacia. It was once a lush green plain filled with life, now it was nothing more than a desecrated piece of land.
From the desert, a small Noxian convoy traveled in the direction of Demacia. In the centre was a carriage decorated with luxurious designs and jewels. The flag of Noxus fluttered high above it as the horses drew the carriage. Inside, Katarina and Talon sat opposite of each other. Talon was busy examining his many intricately hidden blades while Katarina stared dispassionately out the window.
It was empty, she thought. Not a single sign of civilization could be spotted outside on the desert plateau. Then, a few green spots caught her emerald eyes. A few, last surviving patches of grass lightly dotted the dark brown sands. Amused, she edged over her seat to get a better glimpse before they had disappeared back into the endless sands.
"Over a few dull blades of grass? That's unlike you," Talon remarked.
Katarina remained silent and returned back into her seat and resumed her gazes out to the vastness of the outside. She had heard of villages situated in this path before and was eager to spot a few but was only disappointed. She was greeted only by more sand and desolation. How did so many lives, so many villages and cultures become destroyed baffled her.
Suddenly, she felt crammed in the carriage, the toll of the lifeless desert affecting her. The stories of how the Great War decimated these lands were told everywhere throughout Noxian controlled territory. She wondered what life must've been like when the war raged, how horrifying it must've been for their last moments as the inferno of battle consumed them.
Once again, the desert enclosed on her. She felt isolated and alone and proceeded to draw the curtains over the window, before realizing the soft muffled sounds of the horse hoofs outside. She returned her attention back into the carriage and saw Talon sharpening one of his hidden blades with a whetstone. The sharp vibrant sound of each time the dagger slid across the stone had drilled into her ears.
"What's the point? There is no one left for you to kill, everyone's dead or thrown into prison," Katarina said.
Talon stopped the sharpening and gazed up from his hood.
"There is always someone, just like how there's still you and me," he said with a smile before returning to his daggers.
Katarina lightly scoffed before resting her head back onto her seat. She let herself sink into the soft, cozy cushions and stared into the red fuzzy ceiling of the carriage. Her crimson hair had matched perfectly with the interior to somewhat of her annoyance. She lifted her left hand and ran her fingers down the scar on her face. How painfully it was dealt, the agony of it all was still etched in her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed them to rest but her mind was still sharp as her knives. Her assassin instincts had kept her awake while allowing her to ease herself for a while.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Talon had stopped and was glaring at her.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"We are here."
Then, she realized the sounds of Demacia were beating just outside. With curiosity, she drew open the curtains and peered out of the carriage. It has been a few months since she was in the city but it had felt like years after all the changes. When she looked out, it was city completely alien to her. The once proud air of glory and dominance of Demacia has withered away into this pathetic form, not even a shadow of its past. The ragged atmosphere of the slums and stench of rotten garbage filled the cabin. The denizens were all demoralised, heads bowed low and eyes weary. Beggars and thieves run rampant in the dirt road and there was also this linger crying of children and elderly.
Everything was so grey, so lifeless, Katarina thought. Several times did the horsemen and convoy guards had to violent shove away starved Demacians and the desperate. Their coarse shouts and the sight of their blades would drive away most, except for the few truly in despair. The convoy was stopped completely once by a frail looking woman draped in a dark brown rag. She held dirtied brunette hair which must've shone like gold once and her two dark gems stared into the convoy in desperation. Her chapped lips shuddered controllably, each time drawing out a visible puff of breath.
Within the cabin Katarina heard the convoy master shout something vulgar. She looked out the window and saw a stream of guards rushing into the front as she wondered why they had stopped.
"Out of the way or be killed!" the convoy master commanded.
The woman only shivered before bringing her dead eyes up. "P-please… I beg o-of you… My son i-is sick, we need medicine."
Her voice was weak and nigh incoherent in the cold.
"Last warning, remove yourself from the path or you will be killed!"
The woman dropped to her knees and clasped her heads together. Two streams of tear then rushed down her face as she begged.
"Please! Please, have some mercy. S-spare us, have some humanity!"
The convoy master now annoyed had given the order for two guards to approach her with their blades drawn. The woman's eyes widened with horror fell onto ground and attempted to crawl away. Her sluggish speed was no match for the guards however as one of them picked her up by her hair and the other prepared to slit her throat. She began screaming frantically, using every bit of her non-existent strength to waggle and resist but it was of no use. Just as the blade was about to meet her flesh, the carriage's door swung open.
"What is the meaning of this? We cannot accept any delay," Talon said as he exited.
The two guards halted at the signal of the convoy master.
"Master Talon, this Demacian wretch has stubbornly lodged herself in our path. We will take care of this promptly, please return to your carriage we shall make haste."
Talon gave one quick glance at the woman from his hooded eyes before returning to the master.
"There is no point in dirtying our blades with such lowly Demacian. This is not a job for the elite guards now is it?" Talon said.
The convoy master contemplated for a second before giving the order for the two guards to throw the woman away to the side of the road.
"Yes, Master Talon, I understand. Now, would you kindly return to the carriage?"
Without any further words, Talon climbed back into the cabin. He saw Katarina gazing intensely out of the window and spotting the sobbing woman sprawled over the cold ground.
"Feeling sympathy?" Talon mocked.
Katarina was caught off-guard. She quickly closed the curtains before assuming her usual stern look again.
"Don't joke with me."
As the convoy continued forward, they soon encountered the high walls and gate where the revolt was just crushed earlier. The dark brown stains of dried blood still marked the dirt ground. Without any questions or demands, the massive double gates constructed of several feet of reinforced steel and concrete slowly rumbled open. These great Demacian walls could once survive a thousand year siege, now they are merely a tool of terror. Rows upon rows of Noxian banners hung from jagged spikes lined the walls, serving as a grim reminder of who is the charge. Occasionally, there were rotting bodies being hung from posts high upon the walls as a warning to those who dare defied the Grand Marshal.
As the convoy rolled into the city's forbidden inner core, the scenery had completely changed. When Katarina looked out of the window again, her jaws dropped in the sight of what laid within.