ONE FELL SWOOP - CHAPTER 2
Genres: Drama, Fantasy, Romance, Action
Author's Note: I don't really have much to say, just that I apologize for all these delays in uploading chapters. I'm trying my best to write as well as plan at the same time, not to mention I have other priorities (i.e. life :P), but I assure you readers, the chapters will come quicker once I've wrapped my head around the entire plot line.
*EDIT 03/28/2017: Prologue and Chapter 1 & 2 have been revised and improved to ensure better flow throughout the story. I have added and changed some elements in the dialogue to make them more realistic. The next few chapters should not have the same problem, so I probably won't touch them.
Without further ado, here's the second chapter to this Fanfic! Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Blood Oath
It was always raining in the Capital. Not within the Immortal Bastion, as it stood protected by strange magics, but the areas all around it that was still considered Noxus. A large looming figure stepped beyond the gates of the fortress and into the rain. Subsequently, two figures followed suit, as silent as one could be. The large man turned around and addressed the other two.
"Katarina. Talon. Do what you must to investigate the new champion and return with sufficient intel. As he is not yet classified as a high level threat, you need not kill him. Actually, the Master has decided that he would prefer this subject to remain alive for the time being, as he has yet to determine whether he is could be a potential asset, or simply, a hopeless case. The rules are as usual. You are not permitted to return unless you have succeeded in completing your mission. You are dismissed."
"Understood, General Darius." Talon replied, without a hint of emotion in his voice.
"Good. Don't make another rookie mistake this time. Or there won't be a next time." The man said gruffly.
Talon's right eye twitched. "There won't be any mistakes this time, General."
The General turned to face the gates and walked back into the fortress. Immediately, a loud creaking scraped at the ears of those around it and began to close. Moments later, it slammed into the ground, shaking its foundations.
"Well, this is a first." Katarina scratched her head. "Master Swain has never used us for reconnaissance. "
Talon scoffed. "Perhaps this mission is too important to be entrusted to the hands of as simple Noxian spy. Perhaps, he prefers we attain our objectives—unnoticed."
"But we're assassins. We kill for our Master. The best defence is an overwhelming offense. How can he, knowing this principle, request for us to do such a thing?"
"Katarina, you're still so young and vain. You won't understand these tactics yourself, don't sweat it."
Katarina fumed. "You must be kidding me. Twenty years of age is not young. And regardless, you're only three months older than I am."
"And they say, females mature at a quicker rate than males. I don't believe it." Talon smirked, knowing this would only further provoke his fellow assassin.
Katarina reached for her knives. "Are you asking for a fight? Because I can give you one right now—"
Talon raised a hand for her attention. "Hush, Kata, let us not quarrel before our fellow Noxians. Especially not at the gates, where guards are everywhere."
The female assassin's frown did not disappear, but she followed Talon through the suburban areas of Noxus, towards the border of the large citadel. They climbed gracefully up to the roofs of Noxian houses and leaped from roof to roof, reaching the Outer Gates of Noxus within minutes. When they started to near the border, Talon began speeding up until the moment before he crashed into the 25 foot stone wall, he jumped and leaped over the wall. Katarina grumbled something about parkour and then closed her eyes, warping out of thin air. Her shunpo took her outside the walls, landing right behind Talon.
Katarina swept her hair back as the rain soaked her from head to toe.
"Are you done running from your fight yet?"
"Goodness, you're so stubborn Kata." Talon stormed off towards the treeline that bordered Noxus. As he reached the trees, he felt a slight change in the breeze and instinctively ducked. Three knives skimmed his hair and thunked into the tree before him. He whipped around.
"Are you crazy? You could've killed me—"
Before Talon could finish his sentence, Katarina disappeared yet again. Shunpo, he thought, as he swung his arm around to catch Katarina, who had warped behind Talon, by the wrist. The wrist that held one of her knives. He twisted, hard enough so that she would drop the knife in pain, but not hard enough to break her wrist. She yelped in surprised and he pulled her around him, slamming her into the thick trunk of a tree. He shifted his hand so that it was at her throat. Using his other hand to take his hood off, he pierced her eyes with a glare.
Katarina simply scowled. "Fight me hand-to-hand, no tricks, no weapons. Fight me, prove to me you're not a coward—"
Katarina was stopped by the surprisingly soft lips that slammed into her own, and the tongue that penetrate her mouth and intertwined with her's. She immediately felt a wave of ecstasy that compelled her to shut her eyes and instinctively place her hands around Talon's waist. Immediately though, she processed her actions and retracted her hands, which now, waved awkwardly in the air, not sure what their place was. This is not right, she thought. He caressed the sides of her head gently, then hardened his grip, pulling on her hair, and kissed her with increasing passion.
We shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't let him do this. Then, but I can't stop him. And a few moments later, do I really want to stop him?
Talon pulled away abruptly. Instead of his usual smugness, it was anger that flared in his eyes. Katarina was taken aback. She was unfamiliar with this look—Talon rarely let his true emotions show.
"Are you done yet? Are you calmed down? Can we focus on the mission now?" Talon's heated questions cut into her like knives.
"W-what are you thinking?!" Talon's anger was contagious and Katarina started to feel irritated as well. "What the hell was that for—?"
"On our last mission. Do you remember who lost control of herself and impatiently tried to eliminate her target when he was fully guarded?"
"It wasn't my fault—I was running out of time!"
"What's gotten into you Katarina?" Talon said bitterly. "Lately, you've been so distracted. And I have to save your ass every—damn—time!"
"Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself for covering me aren't you? Such a perfect guy you are." Katarina retorted.
Talon's next look sent a feeling down her spine that she hadn't felt in a long time. It was fear. Talon's stare was ice cold. It was the look he gave his victims before he murdered them ruthlessly.
"I'm nowhere near perfect." Talon said quietly.
"Then don't talk to me like that—" Katarina tried mustering her strength in her next retort but before she could finish, Talon grabbed her wrists and slammed them above her into the thick trunk of the tree. He leaned in close to Katarina until she could feel his breath on her lips. His icy glare sent strange chills through her body that she had never felt before. He spoke without raising his voice.
"I'll stop when you've convinced me that you're clear-headed again."
She could not believe this was happening.
Talon kissed her again, though this time, without as much vigor. He nipped her lower lip gently, letting his presence linger there for a moment. His hands trailed down to the back of her neck, sending tingles down her spine, and then fell to the small of her back, his fingers dancing a hurried waltz of desire. His gentle, teasing touch sent her mind into a fuzzy state. Their breathing became faster, more urgent, and the lack of oxygen between them caused a euphoric rush through Katarina's mind. Finally, she could not stop herself as she let a moan escape her, surprising both herself and Talon, and Talon took this as a sign to stop and allowed his female partner to re-assemble her psychological state and reconfigure the responsibilities of the mission. He breathed in her breath, than exhaled with one of his own, and finally, stepped away from Katarina.
Unsurprisingly, she was frozen in a state of slight shock. Talon still stared into her eyes but the icy look was gone. He almost looked—sad.
"I'll take that as a sign that you've calmed down. I'll give you a few minutes to reconfigure your thoughts."
Katarina blushed for the first time in her life, and feeling her cheeks growing hot, she pressed the back of her hands against them in embarrassment. She looked away to save her the trouble of not being able to look Talon in the eye with coldness as she usually could.
"You—you're confusing me," was all she could manage. She breathed in deeply. "That was completely counterproductive. I mean sure, I'm not as intent on killing you now but—how can you expect me to focus when you just did . . . that?"
"Are you saying you enjoyed that kiss so much you're afraid you won't be able to stop thinking about it throughout certain instances of our mission?" Talon smirked. He was back to his old self. He twirled a razor in his hand sub-consciously.
"Shut the fuck up, Talon," Katarina grumbled. "Leave me alone for now."
"Take your time, Kata, take your time." Talon leaped up, caught onto a nearby branch, and swung himself up. He climbed to the top of the tree to check their surroundings.
Meanwhile, Katarina waited until Talon was out of sight before allowing her legs to buckle underneath her. As she sat on the grass, her shoulders slumped as if all the energy had left her body. Clutching her chest where her heart was, she closed her eyes.
What is going on with me? She wondered.
Her breathing was erratic and her heart beat a little quicker than usual. And it wasn't adrenaline.
What is this feeling? It's as if a feeling of longing . . . what do they call it nowadays?
She pressed her hand harder against her chest, trying to force her irregular heartbeat to settle, but to no avail.
I think they call this feeling . . .
. . .
Rose walked nonchalantly along a thin dirt path, trees on either side of her. It was day time and rarely anyone walked, or even knew of this path—her paranoia was unnecessary—but regardless, her instincts told her to keep her guard up in the case of any hostile enemies. Or perhaps someone was watching her from a distance? She shook these thoughts from her head.
She and her companions had split up. Each had their own personal matters to tend to before dedicating all of their time towards attaining their ultimate goal. After their official registration and recognition into the League, they figured it was only appropriate to make the best of their last moments as independents. Being an independent, or better known by most as guest participants had its advantages. Freedom. No major obligations. Anonymity.
Rose sighed, already feeling reminiscent and nostalgic before she even started her life as an official Mage. Then again there was another issue to take note of: climbing the ranks. It was not the feat of climbing the ranks that frightened her, but rather the increasing rules, limitations and scrutiny that were consequent the higher she and Kaleb climbed.
Suddenly, she froze.
Approximately fifty metres from where she stood, a man dressed in a pure white-sleeved cloak, watched her intently. Underneath, the man wore a thin white kimono. His hair was white but his face was full of youth and vigour. He raised his hand and waved it around him. In this special place, down this special path, where the touch of weather and wind can be said to have never existed, Rose felt a small breeze brush against her cheek. Her eyes widened as the man smiled.
He did this.
The man pulled a flute from under his cloak and took a deep breath. He released the intake of air into the flute, hitting a high note with great power and a moment later, a violent gust blew about, beating at the trees around them. Their ancient branches shook for the first time in ages and, to Rose's shock, their leaves began to fall. No, not leaves.
Petals.
Beautiful, pale pink petals.
As they neared the ground, they blew up again, as if coaxed by the flute's high note and began to revolve around the man. With each revolution, they seemed to speed up until hundreds of thousands of petals circulated the man in a flurry. He was barely visible now. At that moment, the sound from his flute stopped abruptly and the petals began to settle. Rose was bemused. When the petals were still and on the ground, the man had disappeared.
She started running towards the spot where she had just seen him, but quickly dropped down to a wary pace. As she got closer, she could see that the man left something behind.
His flute.
Why would he leave such an—I'm assuming—important thing behind?
She arrived at where the man had disappeared, an impossibility from her perspective, and stopped before the flute. Picking it up, she examined it with great care. She found that nothing was out of place. No peculiarities, no special compartments, definitely no conspicuous magic properties—at least not to her knowledge. And she would know if there were. It was just a typical, wooden flute. Well, not typical. There were fascinatingly intricate designs carved lightly into the wood. As she followed the twirls and lines and abstract shapes, she noticed a pattern. All the lines, led to a single spot on the flute. As she traced the lines with her fingers and arrived at the designated spot, she felt a vibration that came from within the instrument. It began to hum, and the usually non-existent wind picked up again. She looked closer at the instrument, desperately trying to find a secret when the carvings began to shift on their own.
So there were magical properties after all.
The designs continued to melt into abstracts, then into solid shapes, and back into a shifting stage. When the transformations finally took their last movements, all was still. And Rose found herself looking at what indeed, was a message. She was certain the message was from the man.
The lines had reformed themselves into cursive letters.
Sequere vestigia patrum nostrorum.
Rose was unsure of whether she read the phrase properly. If she was right, this phrase was one written in the Ancient Ionian language. If she was right, this phrase meant—follow the path of your predecessors.
My predecessors?
Rose, still running her hands over the flute noticed that there were words on the other side of the flute. She turned the instrument over in her hands and read them.
Præstaret tributa regi . . .
Pay—no. W-wait what? Pay the King's Tribute?
. . . effundet sanguinem eorum . . .
Spill their blood.
. . . Sacrificium in vindicta
Rose felt her face become hot as blood rushed to her face. Her vision began to blur, and black spots dotted her line of sight. She became dizzy, unable to concentrate, as if torn between the unconscious and reality. Her throat was strangely dry, and she could not bear to read the last phrase, but it was branded into her mind, regardless.
In fact, she didn't need to know the Ancient language to decipher what the last phrase meant. As the cursive letters began to emanate a crimson aura, they shone out at her like a beacon, beckoning her to understand. Beckoning her to accept.
She said them aloud.
"Sacrifice found in veangance."
Rose knew, the flute held the secret to her past. Perhaps it was simply a vehicle of communication, to hold the man's message for her, but as she found, it held quite the message. Perhaps, she would find out why she couldn't seem to get along with most people around her. Why she was incapable of communicating with anyone, save Ekko and Kaleb. Why she called them humans instead of friends.
Am I not one of them? She thought hard and then shut her eyes, shaking her head. No—of course not. How can I be one of them when they are capable of such vileness and evil? I promised myself I would purge the world of this evil. I even swore upon the Blood Moon after I left him—
She turned the flute about, looking at it from every possible angle, searching for any other secrets.
Perhaps—perhaps I will finally discover what Crow has been hiding from me all these years. Perhaps I will find out why I never saw that golden lady again. Regardless, I have taken a blood oath now, and you cannot stop me. Not anymore. Zachariah!
. . .
Kaleb had taken his own road down the past. He needed to close up a few open ends in his life. He walked up the long, stone staircase, up towards a giant dojo hidden in the Ionian Sky Mountains. Each step he took echoed, despite the evident fact that the rocks were not hollow, nor was he surrounded by any enclosure of sorts. Magical properties. Set by the High Ionian monks as a security measure. They would know if anyone wished to pay them visit. No matter how light of a touch your feet could move with, even if one refrained from touching the steps and instead, hovered over them, an echoing sound would be made, like a pebble dropped into a small pond.
Thus, echoing would not be an accurate description of the sound travelling about. Rippling, would be more suitable. Sacred lotuses floated around the staircase, both the lotuses and the staircase suspended by seemingly nothingness.
This was the work of the Order.
The Order was quite powerful. Unknown to the common people, but infamous amongst whispered conversations. After all, it was not a surprise—the Order acted with the utmost discretion. Anyone threatening the secrecy surrounding the Order would be captured and executed.
When Kaleb reached the top of the staircase, he was greeted by two guards, dressed in pale, lavender garments and dark golden armor. Beyond them was—a plane of butts? A floor of butts lay before him, stretching endlessly, in every direction possible.
"Halt!" said one of the guards, sternly. "State your business within these boundaries."
Kaleb smirked. "You know very well I could defeat both of you with my hands tied behind my back."
"Business," repeated the same guard.
"It's true though," shrugged Kaleb. The guard sighed in exasperation.
"Fine it's true. Now do it for protocol. Kaleb, please, the Order requires for us to do so."
The boy smiled cheerfully. "Of course, of course. My name is Kaleb, I'm here to speak to Old Man Rivello."
The guards' eyes widened. The other guard that had not spoken before, spoke now, urgently.
"Boy! Respect! We will all be executed for treason if you continue to proceed with this attitude."
Kaleb scratched his head and laughed sheepishly. "Ahh, my apologies. I'm here to see the Grandmaster of the Order."
The guards nodded their heads gratefully. "Thank you, young master."
"My pleasure."
Clapping their hands together in sync, the guards spoke an incantation.
"Nunc ianua aperta."
The Doors will Open.
The air before them shimmered as two giant doors joint by an even larger stone arch materialized and opened in unison. Kaleb proceeded to walk into the front courtyard of the Temple of the Order. Exhaling at the beauty of the architectural ingenuity that built the place, which was comprised of several magnificently designed buildings on top of colossal waterfalls and cliff-sides that floated in the sky, he whistled in awe. The Order's temple would never cease to amaze him. The buildings were all structurally segregated from one another but wooden bridges provided the necessary connection to what was essentially four massive mountain-like rocks levitating amidst my butts of Ionia.
Kaleb had to walk through all three initial buildings before he could get to the Grand Temple of the Order, which, deductively, sat on the last and coincidentally, largest of four "sky-rocks". The first building—a simple and conservative, yet cleanly built structure—served as the novice training facility, where the younger or newer pupils of the Order would, of course, train and conduct their daily proceedings.
The second building was built to house the senior students, instructors, and junior masters. It boasted a more elaborate design; for instance, red-brick roofs instead of plain brown ones, and beautiful paintings decorating many walls instead of bare, empty wooden enclosures. Several doors around the second building, mostly the ones offering passage to the residential area, had thin, intricate layers of bamboo woven into them—in contrast to the bland, common-wood doors in the junior building—which allowed natural light to shine through and provide a pleasant warmth to their respective rooms. Because of its size, which was second only to the Grand Temple, it was also used as the Examination Facility.
The third building was outwardly dull, with flat grey walls, but its inconspicuous appearance effectively hid its inner secrets. Within was the Order's Operation Headquarters. Everything to do with an "operation" would be monitored in this building, an as a result, most missions were planned and given within this building as well.
Most.
The operations considered to be of top priority were given by the Grandmaster of the Order himself and executed by the Executives. Which led Kaleb to the fourth and final building — The Grand Temple. Though it was dubbed a "Temple", it had a palace-like build to it. Its front steps were made of some kind of smooth white stone, and when Kaleb made his way up, they rippled, just like the first flight of steps he took before he arrived at the Order's headquarters. Inside the Temple were a labyrinth of corridors. Its floors, walls and ceilings were all reminiscent of the second building, but although it was the largest of the four buildings, barely anyone seemed to be in the Temple. The entire building seemed almost empty. However, the hundreds of times Kaleb had navigated the Temple gave him the experience to make his way to the Main Hall, which was where the Executives, Commanders, and of course, the Grandmaster congregated to discuss the Order's official proceedings. The Main Hall was located at the very top of the Temple.
Kaleb arrived before the final set of intricately designed double-doors with the Order's insignia branded on both of them. These doors would lead him to the Main Hall. Closing his eyes, he steadied his breathing and inhaled deeply. He placed his shaking hands on the double doors, opened his eyes which now had a defiant glow to them, and pushed the doors open, slipping inside as quietly as he could.
. . .
The Main Hall was a fairly large, rectangular room resembling a traditional Ionian sparring ground. The floors were made with a dark, brown wood and the general architecture of the entire room was that of an Ionian training dojo. Sunlight shone through the thin bamboo walls, the windows on each of the three walls (the fourth being occupied by the double-doors) carelessly thrown wide open, which allowed a gently breeze into the room.
The individuals within sat in a formation resembling the quadrilateral shape of the room. There were no chairs or tables; each individual sat cross-legged on a comfortable, peach-colored pillow, each pillow in the shape of a lotus. The Grandmaster sat apart from them, hidden in the shadows and watching silently from the far end of the room. He too sat on a lotus-shaped pillow, but this one, significantly larger and colored lavender.
One of the Ten Commanders, who looked to be in his twenties, was speaking sternly to an Executive who sat across from him.
"This failure is unacceptable! You were provided with an entire team of the most elite operatives and yet you still failed to uncover the identity of the Flute Maker? To make matters worse, you nearly revealed your own identity and jeopardized the secrecy of the Order's existence! I cannot—the Order cannot overlook such a mistake."
The man bent over and bowed his head low. His face was that of utter shame.
"Commander Malekai, please, I beg of you, forgive my shameful performance! I will do anything to compensate for my failure. Just please, let me continue to serve the Order."
The Commander, Malekai, sneered. "That's if you can do anything. As far as our observations have given us, all you have contributed to the Order is an absolute disgrace."
Another Commander, this time, a tall youthful lady with a caramel complexion, who also looked to be in her early twenties, spoke.
"Malakai's criticisms may be a bit overly harsh, but nevertheless, his words speak truth. Your actions could have revealed us to the world. You're quite lucky that Executive Irelia and her partner from the Kinkou Order happened to be close by. Most of our off-duty operatives wouldn't lose a wink of sleep to let you fall from grace."
She sighed and massaged her temples, subsequently reaching around to let her black hair down, which had been tied in a neat bun, held in place by a sharp pin with the blunt end in the shape of a miniature lotus. Those around her looked at her in alarm, but immediately cast their eyes down once more. This was because normally, for a female individual to let her hair down would be a sign of great disrespect in Ionian culture, let alone, a Commander of the Order. But this lady was not just any Commander. She was the first female in Ionian history to become a Commander-in-Chief of the Order, and the youngest one at that. She held no qualms about breaking what she perceived as a petty tradition; to her, it was simply another outdated aspect of the Ionian society. She proceeded to speak again.
"Today, the Order will choose mercy over discipline, in this time of need. You shall be given another chance, Executive."
"Commander Karma, I thank the Order for its mercy!" The man said, his eyes tearing up. "I will return this debt, I swear it on my life."
He looked up gratefully, taking in the full picture of the merciful Commander. Karma was dressed in a traditional Female Noble Ionian garb, which resembled a formfitting pink dress that was cut at the shoulders. The dress had four high-cut leg slits that would have showed off her legs, had she not also been wearing a greyish-blue tights underneath.
Commander Malekai scowled at the Commander-in-Chief's decision but did not object.
From the shadows, the Grandmaster smiled. Despite how emotionless he trained his outer countenance to be, he could not help feeling proud of his daughter. Voted in by the Council of the Order as the youngest Commander-in-Chief. A truly worthy heir to the Grandmaster-ship. She was wise beyond her years, having a near-genius intellect but retaining a devotion to humility. Essentially, a paragon of a future leader to the Order. She was also masterfully proficient in both physical combat and the mystic arts.
A leader must be able to protect him-or-herself, and those around who need it most. This was one of Grandmaster Rivello's core principles.
"This meeting shall now be brought to closure. You are all dismissed." Karma announced.
The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow. Perhaps an emphasis on 'future' in her development as my heir. He cleared his throat and raised his hand. Every Commander and Executive, including Karma froze in place. Rivello sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly in light of the almost-comical moment.
"Have we all become blind to our surroundings?"
As both Commanders and Executives-alike looked at him, dumbfounded and thoroughly confused, he shook his head and chuckled.
"Let me be more specific. Have we all become blind to our guest, who has been waiting so patiently for us to finish discussing our matters of importance?"
When still, nobody had a clue as to whom the Grandmaster was referring to, he stood up in exasperation.
"Kaleb Reiyver. You may step forward and make us known to your inquiry."
To everyone's shock — save the Grandmaster — the air at the center of the room rippled and a figure materialized before them. Kaleb stood with a defiant glow to his eyes, his arms rigid by his side and his hands clenched into fists.
"Yo, Old-man Rivello. Sorry for the intrusion—I thought it would be better if I just waited in the shadows till the meeting was over."
Karma was on her feet in an instant, annoyance radiating off every part of her body. "You dare address the Grandmaster that way—?!"
Rivello's smile had disappeared, but he gestured for Karma to stand down, who reluctantly assumed more passive aggressive stance.
"What is it you want, Kaleb?"
"I'm quitting."
"You're quitting? What is that supposed to mean?" The Grandmaster suddenly seemed on edge.
"I'm leaving the Order of the Lotus."
"Why?" Karma's voice suddenly sounded frail and afraid.
"Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm really grateful for you guys, letting me stay her and serve the Order. I've just got . . . I owe someone a favor and I promised I'd repay the favor by helping that someone fulfill a life-long dream."
Karma's face fell.
"Are you talking about that time when you saved that person—"
"I'm sorry, I can't say." Kaleb said grimly. "But I promise that I'll be back when it's all over."
The Grandmaster stroked his greying beard and Karma gripped a strip of her dress tightly but to Kaleb's surprise, neither Karma nor her father reacted violently to his announcement. Someone else did though.
Commander Malekai stood up, taking a step towards Kaleb. He whipped his right arm to one side, his hands curling inwards and taking a vicious form, as if imitating that of a claw. A dark-purple flame burst forth from his palm, forming a small but fiery ball of energy.
Kaleb looked straight into his eyes and saw nothing but murderous intent. Malekai whispered.
"It's treason, then."
Cliff-hanger! Hope the chapter was up to par today (and that the end wasn't too sloppy haha). It's been about a month since the last chapter so I decided to give the readers a bit of a treat: A LONGER CHAPTER! (*indistinct cheering in the distance*)
Anyways, favorite, follow and review this fanfic if you want more! If you have any suggestions, feedback, or criticisms leave 'em below in the review section!
Peace!
~Nightrous