Chapter 3

Moods had improved by the time that Shauna Vayne was ready to make her move. To the point that the apprentice summoner was appearing on her doorstep to Vayne Manor on three separate occasions in the following two weeks.

It was an appearance that did not go unnoticed.

By anyone.

As evidence by the visitor at her doorstep this morning. "Miss Vayne."

"Your eminence."

Jarvan IV and Vayne, while both Demacians, could not have been more different. The heir to the throne was everything Demacia was supposed to represent; courageous, strong, a face-to-face and toe-to-toe warrior. He was brash, bold, and daring, sturdy and unmoving against any threat once his lot was cast.

Meanwhile, Shauna (and her family as a rule) were content with playing in the shadows. They were spymasters by trade, careful and wary in their dealings, feeling an arrow to the back of the head was just as deadly, and less risky, than a sword or spear to the face.

The nobility of Demacia found House Vayne more a necessary evil than a genuine contributor to the might and glory of the city-state. As a result, both tended to keep their distance of the other unless absolutely necessary. Which begged the question as to why the crown prince himself would bring himself to visit in person.

"May I come in?" Jarvan asked, his face as even as he could manage.

Vayne stepped aside to allow him entry, "If you wish. I'm afraid I have business, however, so I can't dally long."

"Does this business have anything to do with your recent paramour?" Jarvan made no attempt to hide his disdain at the subject, making it clear to the Night Hunter what this visit was to be about.

"With all due respect, that is none of your concern."

"The honor and glory of Demacia will always be my concern," The prince retorted. "And it reflects poorly on the city when one of its prominent nobles is consorting with gutter trash. Not merely a summoner, but an apprentice summoner without any citizenship."

Vayne was not one to get angry easily. But she found this discussion was rapidly prompting her blood to boil. "I was unaware being an orphan was a horrible mark on a person."

"It's just a matter of how... selective you have been when it comes to romantic attention... that it is peculiar that you finally show such affection to someone of such low standing."

Vayne finally put her foot down, literally and figuratively, "There are no end to the discussions I am willing to have with you, Prince Jarvan. My love life, or lack of it, is not and will not be one of them."

Nobility in Demacia afforded her many freedoms, such as talking down a member of the royal family if she felt one of them was crossing the lines of proper decency. Jarvan genuinely was, and even he knew it. He gave a slight, respectful bow, and conceded, "I understand. I beg your pardon for any insult. My father has always been... concerned with the appearance of House Vayne."

"I'm sure he is. Rest assured, there have been no scandals on these grounds since I took control of the house."

"What is left of it," Jarvan noted.

Vayne again grew cross, "Then your father should be delighted I'm exploring my sexuality, even with people of such 'low standing' if for no reason than to ensure a clean line of succession."

The prince laughed, as if the sound would break the tension. "Perhaps."

The Night Hunter really wanted to change the topic, and thought of one that Jarvan actually might have some insight to. "Actually, there is something on my mind that you might know something about."

"Oh?"

"Acene, the Lady of Nightmares."

Jarvan's eyes narrowed, "What about her?"

"Just some old texts I found while digging about. The details from a couple of the accounts didn't match, and I recall that your uncle, Pius the Tenth, crossed her armies on more than one occasion."

"That is true," Jarvan confirmed, "And they both died at the Battle of the Diamond Bluffs. Never pictured you as a historian."

"History is always relevant," Vayne replied. "Indulge me, if you could."

Jarvan shrugged indifferently, "I'm not sure what accounts you found, but I've never known the details to be in doubt. In the closing days of the last Rune War, Pius X got information from his spymaster, your father if I remember rightly, that Lady Acene's forces had massed on the Diamond Bluffs.

My uncle insisted on being the one to confront the Lady of Nightmares, as he had demonstrated to be the only one that could overcome her power over fear itself. Even without the power of fright, she was a mighty arcanist, and the pair dueled to a standstill for several minutes even as the rest of the battle waged.

Finally, it seemed my uncle gained the upper hand, and as he was about to strike the killing blow, she managed one final feint. It was enough to avoid his steel, but not enough to keep them both from falling off the cliff. By the time anyone could reach them, they had long since fallen to their deaths upon the rough waters and jagged rocks below."

"That battle changed the very course of the Rune War," Vayne noted. "The crown prince of Demacia was lost that day, as well as the most prominent remaining member of Noxus's royal family. It served as the turning point that gave the Institute of War leverage into establishing its authority."

Jarvan nodded, "Correct. The royal family of Noxus was entirely stalled with the loss, and my father took my uncle's place in the line of succession. Does that sate your curiosity?"

"It does. Thank you. Is there anything else you need, your highness?"

The prince shook his head, "No. I think I've embarrassed us both enough for one day. Probably should return and assure my father that all is well in House Vayne."

She escorted Jarvan to her front door, and watched him leave with a tight lipped smile.

What was that all about?

Vayne's smile disappeared. Isn't it considered impolite for a summoner to eavesdrop on one of his champions?

I was hoping to catch you changing for your hunt tonight.

At least Kato was being playful, rather than the simmering anger he had displayed earlier in the month when he had established the binding with her. Like you need to be secretive about that. Anyway, that little discussion was prompted by one of your master's many musings. He asked me to see what I could learn in exchange for his help in summoning Shaco.

Kato accepted that deflection. Sounds like him; always fluttering about with strange thoughts whenever he's not stitching humiliating outfits for people. Anyway... going to change?

Already did.

Awwww...

But... if I come back in one piece, your home would be much closer than coming all the way back to the manor.

I'll have my finest white on ice, although you might have to wait for me. At the time you plan to confront Narithe tomorrow, I will be providing my hand summoning minions for a "friendly" match between Piltover and Bandle City.

That's unfortunate. So I won't have you hovering over me like a guardian angel?

Kato laughed. I could fashion minions in my sleep. Fear not, I'll be watching. Just in case.

Vayne didn't find that nearly as bothersome as she would have just two weeks ago. She supposed it helped that he was cute and was legitimately interested in her as a human being. Void take her, she was actually letting hormones judge her actions, and had no problem doing so, even when she knew that was her rationale.

There was more to it, of course. She couldn't blame the young man for being tired of the secrecy around him, especially from people who claimed they were acting in his best interest. He didn't impose, he didn't interfere with her daily goings on, he just wanted to know what the people he was close to were doing, and be of assistance if possible. That wasn't wrong.

Making sure she grabbed the course wool cloak that would be her disguise, Vayne tucked it under the arm and left the manor, promising her butler, Andrei, that she wouldn't be gone more than a couple of days at most.

Summoner Narithe hated this. A consequence of her age made a recycling of her internal fluids every month of vital importance, something she could only do discreetly in Zaun. She hated that her body had been steadily betraying her. It made her weak, and weakness was punished in Noxus.

But that would soon change... the time was almost ready for all of Runeterra to be remade. Then she would either be able to have an entirely new body, or be able to cast a physical form aside entirely, basking in the negative energy that would sustain her for eternity.

Narithe rebuffed the offered hand from her hired help to leave her bed. Again, she could not afford to show weakness, not yet. She had to give the appearance that she was still strong. She dressed herself, though her every muscle protested. She gave herself a light dusting of makeup, passing off the lackadaisical effort as unconcern for her aging face.

She left her bedroom with her head held high, even as her legs screamed from fatigue and pain shot up her back. Stairs were absolute hell, to the point that she cracked a grimace halfway down the stairwell. Thank the abyss no one was able to see it.

The carriage had pulled up to the front door, which Narithe found a blessing. It was a far shorter distance than the end of the roundabout, and could be played off as a simple display of respect for such a powerful summoner. The driver was an astonishingly slight thing, and not her normal driver, but she was in so much pain that she didn't feel the need to question it. Varquez wasn't always available, after all, it wasn't unheard of to see a new face once or twice a year.

It was one last onerous effort to heave herself up into the carriage, then drop into her seat with a sigh of relief. While sitting down wasn't entirely comfortable, it was leagues better than walking. And if she needed, she could stretch herself out across the length of the cabin.

Her most trusted servant followed her into the cabin, Myra, a woman who had been associated with Narithe's family for over five decades. She was the only person the summoner confided in and was comfortable enough to show weakness in front of.

Which was fortunate, because it was a three day trip to Zaun without using summoner spells, which taxed Narithe terribly at this point, and thus she didn't want to use unless absolutely necessary. It was all about conserving her strength at this point. She wasn't like the departed General Darkwill. She didn't have to live forever...

She just needed to live long enough to see the world remade. And that meant, she needed rest.

"Wake me for dinner, Myra." Narithe said, stretching her legs across the other seats of the cabin, coming to a stop just short of where her servant was seated.

"Absolutely, my lady." Myra answered tiredly. Even her loyal servant was getting old.

Nerilith let the fatigue take her, for what she assumed would be a several hour nap before dinner.

Instead, she was woken to a more concerned Myra. "My lady... we've stopped."

That stirred the summoner, "We've stopped? Why?"

"I don't know, my lady."

The answer came with the slamming open of the carriage door, and a single, small crossbow bolt slamming through Myra's skull. It didn't take Narithe long to identify the source of the attack... the face that emerged from under the hooded cloak had aged, but it was one Narithe knew.

"Remember me?" Vayne snarled angrily, grabbing the old woman by the collar of her dress, and pulling her forward violently towards the outside world, throwing the summoner roughly onto the cold, wet grass.

Narithe put on as brave of a face as she could. "So... the little girl finally comes out of hiding."

Truth was, she was only stalling for time. She could tap into her secret reserves of power, but the Void rarely responded quickly. She could feel the negative energy, but it was still just out of her reach.

Fortunately, time was something Vayne was going to give the summoner. For the Night Hunter had questions that only Narithe could answer. "The 'little girl' has been out in the world for some time now. You're the one whose been tucked away." Vayne replied. "I wonder why? Is the old body finally falling apart on you?"

"What does it matter?" Narithe groused. "I got what I wanted and needed from your father. Nothing you do to me will bring him back."

"I'm aware." Vayne responded. "But the question of WHY still lingers, and there are many interested parties who want that information. What did my father know that General Darkwill wanted so badly?"

"Your father helped someone very dangerous disappear." Narithe replied. Even if she was stalling, there was little harm revealing this information at this point. Even if a new Lord of Nightmares rose, it would be too late. "The royal family of Noxus had been successfully reduced in its influence, but a lady of Acene's caliber threatened his rule. He didn't like her disappearing from under his thumb."

"And my father helped her?" Vayne replied, "Color me unconvinced that a Demacian spymaster would come to the aid of a Noxian Princess."

The power was almost ready. Narithe could feel the spell forming. The Void had a special desire for this woman, it wanted Shauna Vayne to see its might before ending her. "You think it was just about Lady Acene, do you? Foolish girl, there were far more souls in play to her disappearance."

"Like who?" Vayne demanded, her wrist crossbow leveling right between Narithe's eyes.

"It's pointless to tell you." The summoner answered cockily, "You won't live long enough to use the information in any way."

"Pardon my skepticism, but I think I hold the upper hand at the moment."

"Such a foolish little girl... you should have remained in hiding..."

At that point, Narithe let the spell loose, the negative energy flashing out and ensnaring the Night Hunter in black tendrils of power, closing around her like a cocoon before vanishing entirely, sending Vayne to the leaking point of the Void's power in Runeterra... the ruins of Ithaca.

Narithe almost felt bad for the girl.