Chapter 4
Her senses began to return to her. She could now feel herself and her body as a conscious entity floating through empty space. As the seconds ticked by, soon her mind began to come back into the physical plane and she realized that she was lying upon a cold hard stone ground and something tight around her wrists. She struggled to move but a heavy gravity kept her down, she felt numbness and slight pain echoing in her bones as she wriggled about. She tried to open her eyes but could only see an incomprehensible blur but she could now hear the squeaking of rat scurrying around her, hungry for food.
She noticed now that her wrists had been bound by a thick, rough rope behind her back which had twisted her arms uncomfortably. She woozily regained her balance as she got onto her knees and pressed her back against the stone cold masonry for support. Her vision was still weak as she shook her head about, trying to clear her mind but it was of no use as the general numbness in her body persisted. However, she could make out the faint outlines of several iron bars held vertically in front of her and the cramped square room of stone she was being held in. It was a jail cell.
Along with the sound of the rats, Katarina could also hear distant chirping of birds outside in their nests upon those high trees. She wondered about her location and circumstances. Perhaps she had been captured by the rebels and they were preparing her for torture for information and afterwards, they will then kill her. She was in a helpless state as she now realized another dreadful matter; all her weapons were gone. Along with her drugged body and mind, she had not a single chance of retaliation or escape.
What were they going to do to her she wondered, she minded no pain nor torture but she had learned after years of Noxian life that torture did not only come in the form of physical pain. Torture was best served in the mind for wounds only last days, scars of the mind last forever. But again, she had her rule as an assassin in that no one else may know your weakness and what you held dear. She had seen men that loved nothing and was a mere shell trained to kill, that was the pinnacle assassin her father had taught her years ago. They feared nothing for they had nothing. No amount of torture could bring them down, you could threaten their lives, their city, and their family if they had any but they will not buckle, instead they will only ask for two things; to kill them and let them starve to death.
Katarina shuddered at the thought of that, she wasn't the perfect assassin, and she had a plethora of weaknesses. She was only human, only so strong, and now evident by her situation. She pondered what questions they will ask her, will pain they will bring and most of all if they truly knew that. That, was her greatest fear, for others to see right through her transparent cask and know the Katarina that only she knew.
"So you are awake, Noxian, shame you didn't die to the Zaunite shroom, how ironically funny it would've been," a cold, female voice said from outside those bars.
Katarina instantly stiffened as her perpetual blindness did not allow her to prepare herself. She tried to free her arms but found that all strength had left their body, she was completely open and vulnerable and at any moment if her captors had wished, they could end her life at this moment. She opted to remain silent, preferring an assassin's death if it were to be the case.
"Hmm, you think you can act strong? Let's see how long that can last," the voice said again. It sounded familiar, too familiar. Katarina had heard this voice many times before, it had belonged to the one person that always impeded Noxus, the one that always stood in the night and hunted from the shadows, just like her.
"Though you did get my cape pretty good, good aim if I was to say, too bad you had to touch it after I coated it with the poison. A precautionary detail really, but you had the work sorted out for me. Luckily for you, it was only a diluted dose, though I would've preferred the regular one," the voice continued followed by a faint laughter. "Staying silent heh? Hmm, you must be wondering who I am right now, I see your eyes, your pupils are still dilated. The poison hasn't worn off yet. Judging by my voice, I'm sure you can already guess."
Underneath her breath, Katarina muttered, "Vayne."
"I sure brought you on a merry chase Noxian, though you were much faster than I expected. I thought that all these months of living the lavish life surely would've made you slower than that blockhead Garen," Vayne said.
"Garen…? You are all…. Alive…?" Katarina weakly asked.
Vayne chuckled, "I don't think that it would really matter for you now would it, but you probably would've wanted that wouldn't you. Huh, being captured by a bunch of 'pathetic rebels' as the Grand Marshal would say, what sort of fine assassin must you be?"
Those words struck Katarina, in some sense she agreed reluctantly, all the years that she had been trained to avoid a situation like this and now she finds herself in one.
"Then… kill me… I have nothing to say… to any of you," Katarina said, remembering the perfect assassin's codes.
Vayne approached the cell and crouched, bringing herself level with the slumbered Katarina. On her back was a massive crossbow that hung effortlessly, the same bow that had taken the lives of many Noxian officials.
"Don't be so grim, we aren't going to kill you, probably. Even if you think you are can go down laughing in hell at us, we will get to you."
Katarina groaned, "you will die… with me… Noxus will find this place…."
Vayne shrugged and brushed her shoulders, "You haven't found this place, the so-called best assassin in Noxus. I don't think a bunch of those blockheaded guards will. The only reason why you are even here is because we wanted you to. You gotta understand, there is a lot more of us then just here, everyone in Demacia hates your kind, and we've got a lot more support than you think."
Just as Katarina was about to retaliate, her head began to wobble again as the darkness crept from the corners of her eyes. Her consciousness rapidly slipped despite her efforts to grab onto it as she slowly fainted back into her black world.
"Oh, it's setting in, good, rest up now, you will need it soon," Katarina could hear Vayne's voice trailing away as she collapsed back onto the cold ground and her mind slipped away.
"Hello? Is there anybody in there?" a voice asked Katarina.
"No," she coldly replied.
"That's absurd, you've got someone in there, everyone's got something, wake up sunshine!" the annoying voice continued to probe.
"No," she replied once again.
The voice grunted in contemplation of a new tactic.
"If you tell me, I will give you some candy!"
"No, get out of here," she retorted, now annoyed.
"You know… No matter how many times you say no, that doesn't REALLY mean no, there is no point in hiding long as there is something in there it will eventually be found."
"There is… nothing…" Katarina said, now losing her aggression.
"Really?" the voice sarcastically asked.
"…I….don't…"
"There's gotta be something, just give it time, and it will show itself eventually. No need to hold it back," the voice echoed in the dark.
"…"
A bright light nearly obliterated her closed eyes as a sharp pain entered her head. She opened her eyes and was greeted by a furious lamp right above her head beating down on her, casting away all shadows. She blinked several times, trying to get a sense of what was happening and as she looked around, she realized she was bound to a chair with her arms behind the back. She could see now and could think properly as the poison's effect withdrew.
She was in a compact square room with a construct similar to her cell with the stone walls and dusty grounds with a hanging lamp in the centre. Before her lay a wooden table with rotten legs as a result from decades of water and rats but it remained stable and functional at this time. Across from her was another chair, currently empty but was most likely reserved for her interrogator.
With her strength and senses back, she wiggled her arms about to feel the rope which bounds her and felt the harsh, rough surface tightly knotted around her wrists. She twisted her fingers and could touch the knot itself but was unable to see it, after some examination she made it out to be a simple overhand knot, most often used by Demacian scouts. She moved her slim wrists up and down, trying to slip out and to her escape and the knot slightly loosened but still bounded her tightly.
She looked around the room, trying to find a sharp protrusion from a wall which she can then use to sever the thick rope. Indeed upon the door, the only entrance into room was a splinter sticking out from where the knob is supposed to be. She thought about making her way there as her feet were not bound but she had to ensure that she wasn't being watched. She felt no presence around her, no spying eyes as she attempted towards the door when suddenly it swung open. From behind a person all too familiar appeared with Vayne watching from out the doorway.
Garen! He was the man who she had sworn to kill or be killed by, the man who she could not defeat in open combat, the man who rushed to her aid in the name of so called honor and the only man that has ever kept her awake at night pondering when their blades shall cross again. His tall mighty form, now no longer donned the proud Demacian plates gleamed with gold and navy but a ragged armor similar to that of a bandit's. His outer pride has vanished along with his uniform and weapons, casting away all superficial glory with his messy yet trimmed hair and an unshaven beard. One quick glance at him and one would think him a homeless beggar who had been discharged from an army, a man with no pride. For a second, Katarina ached at this sorry sight, relishing on the great Demacian warrior that had duelled her once.
There he was, this intriguing Demacian before her and nowhere else, nowhere to hide. All raw emotions and words could be exchanged in this very room and space. As he shut the door behind him and leaving Vayne outside, he approached her with a seemingly disappointed look, disappointed that Katarina had gotten captured. His two eyes that had once burned with passionate flames were now doused with a dull weariness, tired from days of fighting both in and out and only desiring an end for it all.
Katarina stiffened her body, trying to summon an emotionless cask to shield her from any inquisition and judgement whilst training her eyes on the ground, away from his. She kept her breaths silent and her muscles still and to the best of her extent to becoming a mere living corpse, undisturbed by any soul yet Garen approached her and recognized the woman before him. He took out the chair opposite of her and sat down and arched his two hands before gazing into Katarina. After a prolonged silence, he cleared his throat and leaned back as he relaxed his form.
"It has been some time," Garen began, breaking the silence.
Katarina refused to show any sign of life and continued gazing into a wall with a grunted expression, her hands still bound behind the chair.
"You were knocked out for three days, the poison had to take its course," Garen said with an indifferent tone.
Katarina shuffled a bit to ease her twisted arms.
"You look uncomfortable like that. I would untie you but you know our situation," Garen pointed out.
Katarina lightly scoffed at his foolish attempts at approaching her before returning to her deadened state. Garen noticed and shook his head.
"I'm not trying to get you to talk or anything, but it would be greatly appreciated if you did," Garen said with a weary tone. He gave her a few seconds to see if she would indeed comply but again, only silence.
With a sigh, he continued, "I never thought you would let yourself be captured like this, this is a surprise. A woman of your finesse surely could've escaped by now, unless you were planning to be captured and that would put us all at risk. Or maybe you slipped? Is it true that after having dulled your blades and senses for so long that you have lost your lustre?"
Katarina thought of the hypocrisy in his words, if anything he had lost what once appealed to her. If she still had but a single dagger she could've easily slit his throat and escaped she thought. The faint shadow of a formerly proud and powerful Demacian sat before her.
"So, you probably won't answer but, tell me how life in Noxus is like now. You've seen Demacia, and you must be pretty happy in Noxus with all that power and such," Garen said as the worn lamp buzzed and flickered for a moment before regaining its luminosity. "I just wanted you to know that well… I suppose I can't hate you for what you are, you are now simply an enemy, as you always had been just as I always had been and will be a Demacian. I had for some time longed for us to duel again but I suppose that is impossible now. My blade has been dulled, too dull. It will take time for it to sharpen again. You live a happy life, that's good, that's good… At least some of us are happy."
Happy?! Katarina wanted to burst out saying that she is miserable, she is pathetic, she hated Noxus now but when she looked to the Demacians, she knew she had no right to complain. But, she was anything but happy, far opposite for this foolishly naïve ideal called happiness, an impossible paradise, unachievable.
"You're wrong," she managed to say which caught Garen off-guard, "there is no happiness."
"You…"
Katarina, realizing that she had said too much, quickly glanced away, breaking the brief moment of contact they had.
"Whatever you feel, many of us still fight on to resist Noxus' rule. You've seen what Noxus had done, I do not believe for one second that you are indifferent towards it, whether you are sad or happy, you must feel something," Garen asked, only to be disappointed by further stubbornness. "You have seen the deserts and those burned destroyed villages. What do you think happened to them?"
Katarina contemplated for a second, recalling those charred stumps in the middle of the vast dry desert between Noxus and Demacian. The Great War had claimed them and the poor souls that had lived within, as she and all the Noxians were told.
"If you think that that was the case, then you've just been fooled by Noxian propaganda," Garen said as though reading her mind, "the war had gotten some villages yes but many had survived. Those that did was destroyed by Noxus when they campaigned against Valoran with the weakened Demacian and the destroyed League. They were razed to the ground, all men and women and children were massacred. The unfortunate ones were captured and sent to labour camps and prisons."
This had not surprised Katarina, not one bit, she was fully aware and had learned not to trust anything or word within the city of Noxus. She had never belonged there and instead felt like an empty being drifting along the streets. No one belonged there for the city was now but merely a platform for Swain to act out upon, being a Noxian simply meant that you did not oppose the Marshal. He held no patriotic stance but only the pride for power and it had reflected within Noxus' walls where one moment a person could be conversing with a friend and the next facing the gallows while named an enemy of the states.
"Some were taken to Zaun to be experimented on, some taken to that damned Arena in Noxus to be some gladiator. Under those Noxian provinces, it's much better to be dead than alive, isn't it…? Better dead…" Garen said as though holding back tears from his eyes. Some dreadful memory seemed to have taken grasp of him, something of death and despair. It was the same feeling expressed when a loved one perishes.
It was a sad sight, seeing such a man reduced to this. Katarina felt almost pity but immediately forced herself back into her cold dark front. Then, Garen regained himself and straightened his body, bringing back some soldiery sense to him.
"We are not going to kill you, nor torture you, we simply have one request for you, one thing to ask of you," Garen said as he stood up from his chair, "I will bring you to the rest of us."
He went over to Katarina's side and called out to the door, signalling for Vayne to enter. She still had those dark crimson glasses on, shielding her eyes from the world with her trusted crossbow hung on her back. She wielded it and loaded a bolt before aiming it straight at Katarina's heart.
"He's gonna untie you now and if you try anything funny I will put one right in your beating heart. Don't think I'm not fast enough for you assassin, while you've been sleeping away on those grand beds of yours I've been training day and night," Vayne warned as Garen loosened the knot and removed the rope, freeing Katarina's reddened wrists.
She got up from her chair with Garen behind her as he retied her with an albeit much looser knot, allowing her wrists now to comfortably rotate about. Vayne led them out of the room and down many run down and ruined corridors. The ancient stone masonry had long served its purpose and now has been partially reclaimed by nature as roots and moss began reconquering the building. The once lustrous marble flooring was now buckled and shattered in many places whilst being stained with mud and dirt. The walls and décor highly suggests of a grand manor or sorts that had once housed a prestigious family
On their way, Katarina noticed shattered and boarded up windows in several abandoned rooms and saw the day's light leaking through them and hints of a vast green field outside, something that had not existed in months. She pondered their location, they could not be anywhere near Noxus or Demacia for the natural expanses of forestry had long been replaced by the deserts and desolation of war. Perhaps they were further north and closer to the Freljords where the landscape had been largely undisturbed but the kingdoms already conquered by the Marshal.
Soon, after several minutes of walking through the halls that had been laminated by recently installed lamps and bulbs, they arrived at a pair of large mahogany doors with a broken sign nailed above the doorway. The wood had been rotted away, making the phrase that had been inscribed on it incomprehensible. Katarina could make out the fainted letter 'L' at the front and that was it.
When they entered, Katarina was met by a series of familiar eyes all seated around in what seemed to be a barroom with a circular counter as its centrepiece manned by a massive tender with orange hair and a taste for alcohol. Surrounding the island were many tables, all completely filled by former Champions, now for the rebel cause along with many other rebels themselves. Everyone seemed to have been gathered about for a meeting in the packed bar, each table with at least one mug of ale and all adorned by an ashtray.
The glances and stares were hostile, unwelcoming and gave Katarina a crushing presence. She quickly counted the room and saw Ashe, Xin Zhao, Twisted Fate, Vi, Gragas, Fiora in the immediate area with Vayne and Garen beside her. Then, just as they entered, Katarina had realized that the room's otherwise dreadfully silent atmosphere had been lighten up by a soft, soothing serenade from the strings of a masterful player. From the corner of the bar Katarina noticed a still presence, gentle as the ocean's waves yet powerful as a storm, was the Maven of the Strings, playing silently but deeply on her etwahl. Her fingers plucked and stroked the strings smoothly and skilfully, giving the grace of music to everyone within earshot. Her heart swayed the many, soothing the rebels and Champions after each day of hard fighting.
Garen and Vayne led Katarina to the room's centre with eyes focused on her. It would not be long before someone had spoken.
"What is she doing here? Take that Noxian bitch outside to the court and chop her head off!" one of the rebels rowdily protested, followed by the sound of a mug slamming on the table.
"Yea! This here Noxian wretch deserves no less! Why is she in our base?!" another voice sounded. Soon, it was followed by a trail of upheavals from the crowd as their loud and rude discontent filled the room and their anger and hatred drowning out Sona's music. She had stopped playing with a distressed look upon her face still untouched by the war and gentle and white as heavenly snow. Continued threats and insults of her nationality, her actions, how she had no honor and sympathy as an assassin and even her family's name had been thrown at her without remorse. Katarina's eyes shied away from the crowd, their cruel words affecting even her yet some of them seemed true to her, bringing her a mix of shame and anger. But as an assassin whose life revelled in the dark and the absence of glory, she should've been prepared for this.
"Be quiet! Quiet!" Garen loudly ordered, "She had been captured by us and she is here for a reason, a good reason. Shut your mouths and wait for him."
Him? The rebel leader perhaps, Katarina wondered.
At the moment of 'him', the crowd went silent yet still brewing with discontent evident from the low murmurings and groans, even Sona now had stilled her hands, allowing for a tense silence to choke the room. The former Champions seemed only to mind her for a little while before returning to their own devices as several more mugs of ale were ordered from Gragas, which kept him busy.
The murmurs of her atrocities and affiliation of Noxus still sounded. Some of them vastly exaggerated while others fruitless fantasies and rumours spawned from hatred and resentment, but they remained. Garen led Katarina to a low stool in front of the bar, facing a large doorway covered by a ragged, brown curtain. As she sat, the lingering stench of alcohol filled her nose, disgusting her. She tried to breathe through her mouth but her tongue would taste the heavy whiskey and stale beer wafting through the air as she had no choice but to bear it.
After a few moments, the ceiling above creaked as burdened footsteps above caused dust to fall from the ancient walls. The steps drew closer and closer and soon the cracking of stairs could be heard as this heavy figure approached the bar. These mere steps were enough to completely silence any idle conversations and murmurs as though they demanded the attention of all within the room. A powerful authoritative presence saturated the atmosphere, causing even Katarina to dwindle inside as this mysterious figure came. All hands and mouths stayed still in anxious anticipation of important news and plans for the rebel cause.
The steps halted briefly before the curtains as though preparing to open a gate. Then, a firm hand pushed through and opened his way and entered a man that Katarina did not think was possible. She gasped under her breathe and stared in disbelief. It was Jarvan.
"How are you…?" Katarina began.
Jarvan had a rugged cloak wrapped upon him like a true mountain bandits but dignified. His princely aura had long been dissipated, transmuted into something else, something darker. His once clean shaven face was now studded by a light beard, the work of a cruel razor blade. His aged features made him look several years older even though it had been no longer than only a few months. His powerful and mighty form was still present, now rugged with the burdens he had to endure. He no longer looked a young, foolish prince but a scarred and battered veteran of war who has seen the raging lightning, the unforgiving storms and a thousand battles.
Despite his changed appearance, Jarvan had still commanded a dominating air, even more so than before. All the rebels and former Champions sat up straight and attentive in respect for their leader.
"Welcome to our home, Katarina Du Couteau," Jarvan said. When he uttered her full name, she felt a slight shudder shivering down her spine.
As he approached her with a seeming limp, he cracked a faint smile, not the one that is used to greet an old friend but the one that a cunning mastermind would have when his opponent is at his mercy. His expression felt sly, almost cocky yet determined and certain. Katarina could already feel her barrier being dismantled bit by bit just by his presence alone and his piercing gazes.
Then, he leaned over to her ears and whispered, "Please, make yourself comfortable for this time being, I shall explain everything soon enough." Then, he turned his attention to the bar. "Friends, allies and warriors of our cause, I'm sure that you must be wondering the fate of our captured prisoner here and that is exactly the purpose of this meeting."
"We are risking hella' lot to be gathered here partner, don't go no crazy now, this ain't the time," Twisted Fate said, tipping his hat.
"We have an enemy before us, there are only few options available to us, certainly we had no need for such a meeting to solve such a trivial matter," Ashe said, cleaning her icy bow with a cloth.
"Death is the only path available to her, after we get valuable information, then we can finally get our revenge on what her people did to ours. This way maybe she can at least die with what little honor she still has," Fiora suggested with Xin Zhao silently nodding in agreement. The entire room began once again stirring with the notion of her death. Only Sona and Garen seemed to disagree as they desperately tried to convey their message.
"Surely we do not need to-" Garen began but his voice was easily drown out by the crowd, Sona herself was helpless, not even able to create a squeak and could only protest by shaking her head and a saddened expression.
Then, Jarvan slammed a table, silencing the entire bar. "Enough! I have not even spoken my mind yet and you are already behaving like frenzied rats, what different then would we be to the Noxians?"
After several groans and mutterings, Jarvan held command of all attention again.
"As I was saying, these are desperate times and calls for desperate measures. We cannot turn away an opportunity such as this when it presents itself it us, we can no longer be naïve like we were in the past, we must take decisive action and worry the consequences later. And, to our fortune comes a prized person, Katarina is now under our roof, our hospitality, and our mercy," Jarvan began with a roughened voice. His words were much different than before, they were no longer the euphemism filled platitudes back in the days of Demacia. They were opportunistic, realistic, eerily like Swain's.
"Then, what are your plans?" Vayne asked.
"Turn an enemy into an ally," Jarvan said, then paused for those words to sink in and was met with gasps, shaking heads and disagreement.
"That is absurd! Knowing her status she could be spying for the Noxians, or here to assassinate one of us, or worse, we cannot take such risks," Ashe protested as she shot up from her seat.
"And even if we do accept, do you think she will agree? She will remain a Noxian and our enemy, that is all," Fiora said, joining into the upheaval.
"Then we shall make her no longer an enemy. Like I had said, we need all we can salvage, she has intricate knowledge on the Noxian front and she will make a valuable ally," Jarvan reasoned, "there is nothing that cannot be changed."
Katarina tried to protest but found no words before this unrecognizable man. She was being used like a bargaining chip, she had no say, she didn't even exist in their eyes at this moment, and only the absurdity of Jarvan's plan were they concerned with.
"I do not agree on such a risk, valuable or not, she cannot be trusted," Ashe said her mind before returning to silence and was conformed by with most of the former Champions.
"I am well aware of the risks, and that is why we will use our leverage in this situation to ensure our success," Jarvan then turned to Katarina, "and you should realize the folly of your circumstances and that you do not have much of a choice, but I will give you two."
Katarina scoffed, trying to appear indifferent, "Then I choose death."
Jarvan grinned, almost sinisterly, "Oh no, we will not offer that to you, in fact it shall be the exact opposite. Both choices will guarantee your life."
Jarvan then pulled a table between them and sat across her. Then, he revealed yet another change that had marked him; his left arm was no more. Instead, it had been replaced by an artificial limb constructed of silver metallic alloy that had been casted and shaped nearly perfectly to fit him, a result of advanced Piltoveran techmaturgy. However, it too had looked worn and rugged along with the rest of him, a result of the lack of maintenance.
He arched his arms on the table and leaned forth, bringing his full presence onto Katarina as everyone around listened on.
"One obvious choice is that you join our cause without resistance and attempts to sabotage us. The second, less forgiving choice is that we shall let you free," Jarvan said with a stern look.
Katarina knew that she really had no choice to begin with, the second one was merely a jest, but her curiosity got to her.
"Set me free?" she said mockingly, "sounds too good to be true."
"Indeed, there are a full other world waiting for you if you choose to be free," Jarvan said and gestured for a mug of ale. When it arrived, he downed it in one go before returning his gaze at Katarina. "If you so choose, we shall let you go, but we will also spread word and rumors of your affiliation with us. Noxus will hear of this, Piltover will hear of this, Zaun will hear of this, there will not be a single corner left on Valoran that would not know you have joined the rebel cause. You will have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide but die alone, in solitude. That is your second choice."
Katarina groaned, her face twitching with anger, "You…"
The way Jarvan said those words, the way he had cornered her and made her a helpless rabbit and he the wolf was despicable to her eyes, his cunning and merciless reminding her of the Grand Marshal.
"Not only that, we are well aware of your father…" Jarvan began, almost in a teasing manner. Instantly enraged, Katarina shot up from her stool, her hands instinctively reaching for her non-existent daggers but were stopped by the ropes bounding her wrists along with Garen who seemed unwillingly pushing her back down.
"You fucking bastard! What do you know of him? Tell me! Tell me now or I will kill you and everyone here!" Katarina screamed while kicking about and trying futilely to lunge at Jarvan with the every intent of slitting his throat.
"It would not seem like you are in the position to negotiate. As I said, we know of your father's fate, he still lives though barely. He is under Swain's grasp, as is all of Noxus. You cannot save him, but we can, along with Valoran. This is a mutual benefit, you shall help us and we help you. If you are as wise and sharp as many believes, then I'm certain the choice is clear."
Katarina clenched her teeth, her breathe heavy and boiling with rage, only just managing to calm her mind and ease away all obstructions to clear thought. She tried but could find no other way, no matter how sharp her mind was. She was indeed a helpless animal trapped in a cage, completely naked and bare and at the mercy of her captors. Her father came to mind; the truth of Jarvan's word struck her like a needle to the heart. There was no other way.
"Then I can assume your silence means yes?" Jarvan asked.
Katarina's eyes snapped at him as though she was spitting at his name.
"You are no different than Swain," Katarina hissed.
Suddenly, Jarvan's expression turned grim mixed with anger as he leaned over the table and became breathing distance of her.
"That is where you are in the wrong, I'm very much different from him in every aspects. I've casted away my naïve shell and has embraced the cruelty of this world, I had learned that a foolish paradise where sacrifice is but a legend is impossible. I have only learned decisiveness and the heart to accept losses. But where I am different from him is that I have morals and a goal. I can see in my eyes what I desire, and that is a freed and glorious Valoran. I have the insight to know good from evil and order to chaos. Him? He is blind, only lusting madly for power. He has no morals, he has no goals, he only seeks to further himself by stepping over others. I am different, and mark my words for the day that he dies, you will know the difference."
Then, he regained his posture and voice and gestured for two armed rebels to come.
"Take her to her room, she is one of us, beginning this day and I would expect all of you to treat her as such, am I clear?" Jarvan asked, his eyes sweeping the room left to right. "Then, is there no discontent?"
Only silence came from the crowd, the silence of awe.
Katarina was untied and held up behind her back and was pushed towards another exit at the rear of the room.
"A last word, I will leave you unguarded for I have no reason to do so to a fellow comrade but should you try to escape or do anything else but what is told of you, then you know the consequences," Jarvan warned, his words etching into Katarina's mind, "With that, you are all dismissed, tread with care friends."
He was no longer Jarvan Lightshield IV but a different man, a leader of a rebellious faction and a man that has seen it all and has been worn and scarred by what seemed to be years and years of struggling. A lost arm, while simply a flesh wound was a great injury to any warrior, as was his pride as Prince when his city fell. Yet there was this stark determination and the willingness to witness sacrifices and yet somehow continue without even glancing back, that was the man that Katarina had just met.
Soon, they arrived at a part of the manor that she had not yet seen and was brought before a door and a room. The guards instructed her to stay quiet inside until further words before departing with accusing glares.
The room itself was decently preserved and may as well have been a room of an old, yet still liveable mansion. It was of comforting size, just about half as large as the barroom. It was also surprisingly well furbished with dusted furniture and mahogany drawers and a large bed in the centre. A few cobwebs here and there were present but other than that there were no rats, mold and the sign that she was indeed in an abandoned manor left to rot.
She had noticed a single fragile glass globe; much like a snow globe except it was empty save for a single maple leaf encased inside. It was gently resting on her bed as the only decoration in her room. She took it up and studied it with great curiosity. It was but a foolish little thing yet so innocent and charming. With a smile, she took the globe and placed it in a more dignified place, high upon her cabinet which was just within her reach. Then, she realized a waft floating into the room. The scent was nice, sweet and fresh of nature when a cool breeze rolled in through an open window.
She walked over and peered out and found herself to be in the middle of a vast green expansion with mountainous hills and rolling ranges as far as the eye could see. Sparrows, deer and even reptiles could be seen merrily about in the greenery that stretched for miles on. Thick woods and forests lined the distant horizon, untouched by civilization and all the while the bright afternoon sun above basked its glory upon this Garden of Eden. Katarina was astonished by this marvellous sight, even before the Great War in Noxus, there had never been such a wondrous display of nature.
She was not aware that such a heaven had still existed in Valoran. But then, in the furthest distant she could now make out, through the warm sunrays and the drifting clouds a pillar of faint smoke bellowing into the air, polluting the skies. Several more of these emerged as inferno raged below, consuming all in its path. So far away, yet so close was this paradise were to those flames and any moment could too this peace be easily devoured by those flames afar.
She shuddered at the thought of burning fields littered with charred carcasses before her as she gently closed the windows and returning her mind back into the room. Suddenly, a knock upon her door sounded.
"May I come in?" a muffled voice said behind. It was Garen's.
Without answering, Garen slowly opened the creaking doors and peered inside, spotting Katarina sitting upon her bed.
"I've brought this back to you," Garen said, holding up her leather belt with a row of wicked daggers on it and two sinister looking blades. He waited for a response from Katarina but did not find any and so he decided to just set it on a table.
"Well, I suppose we could still spar someday with your blades back, hmmm," Garen said, amusing himself with the thought before pardoning himself.
"You have become weak," Katarina managed to utter, surprising Garen.
He then looked up in the air as though remembering something dreadful as his face contorted with the agony and pain of the memory.
"I suppose I have," Garen softly sighed.
"Noxus will find this place eventually," Katarina said coldly.
"Then we will simply move as we always have. This place will burn as we settle into a new home, further north of here and even farther from Demacia."
With a nod, Garen left the room as silence became Katarina's only companion once again. With little to do, she decided to inspecting her blades later and instead fell onto her bed and for the first time in days allowed herself to relax. At this moment however, a whole world of thoughts bombarded her. Her father's safety, her fate, and the fate of Valoran and Noxus were amongst the many pressing question echoing in her mind. She felt tired and her eyes weary and decided to expel the thoughts from her head and rest. With one last glance at the glass globe in front of her upon that towering cabinet, she closed her eyes and dreamt away.