Commander Wargyen was a newcomer to any sort of authority position, but it didn't mean he was clueless. When he assumed control of the band of sellswords, the first official action he decided to authorize was the creation of a weekly tournament, where any man in the company wishing to volunteer could join to make up a single-elimination bracket, with valuable prizes in store for the winner. The rules were simple: force your opponent to yield before they did the same to you. With the mercurial nature of mercenaries who might change sides at the drop of a coin, it might have been a dangerous proposition for a large group of men to go at each other mercilessly, even with only training swords, but the commander's stern presence during every bout ensured that no extra blood was spilled.
His primary reason for the creation of such tournaments, and the one he offered as an explanation to some of the more curious mercenaries, was simply for his own entertainment, to watch the men display various feats of strength and agility in a tempered environment where no one had to worry about their lives being in jeopardy.
The second reason was to sort out the quality stock from the expendable stock.
Commander Wargyen was not clueless. Manpower was a limited resource, not something you could go out and replenish easily like water or gunpowder. Taking on a job didn't mean simply putting a certain amount of hours laboring over it to complete the task, as if it were some menial favor. Someone would inevitably die in the process, and he wasn't about to let his best warriors catch the short end of the straw. The usual persona anyone with a military background took on was an objective, non-biased observer, but Wargyen knew it was just a facade underneath, that through casual observance commanders would naturally find themselves drawn to specific units that showed promise beyond the rest. He would make sure those who began ahead stayed ahead - and as for those whose skills still held much to be desired, they had a choice of either languishing in mediocrity or picking up the pace in order to not fall behind.
Jax never partook in the tournaments, although not due to a lack of ability. He made it a point to observe every round that he could and quickly discovered the flaws within each man's form, vital mistakes which could cost them their life in a skirmish to an observant opponent. The Freljordian always stepped forward with his right foot before he lunged; the man with a cut which had just grazed over his eye, affectionately dubbed "Scar-Eye" by the rest of the company, blocked attacks with stiff knees; a third man, who claimed to be a deserter from the Demacian royal army, gripped his sword like a lance, with the hands much too far apart. That was how Jax knew the man was a fraud, as any soldier who had undergone Demacian military experience was at least trained to wield a sword properly.
He would remain silent on the matter, despite the numerous attempts from the men to coax some reasoning from him, especially from one of his closer friends, a dark-skinned man from south of the Great Barrier named Karzak. From him Jax had learned of some of the special treatment the commander had given some of the more meritorious fighters, apart from the standard amounts of gold or jewels given to tournament winners which paled in comparison to the real bonuses standout fighters received. The southerner had received a shashka saber from Wargyen, a rare sword in its own right, but upon further examination, Jax had found a set of ancient runes inscribed into its hilt. Allegedly dating back to the time of the Rune Wars, Karzak informed him that they granted him strength and fortitude during fights, as well as a special, unique advantage.
It was powerful information, and a dangerous thing to confide in someone knowing you possessed a valuable weapon leaps and bounds beyond the traditional scimitars and cutlasses the average mountain raider lackey possessed, or even the standard Ionian greatswords most of the company wielded. It was the reason that Wargyen had decreed that all his men keep their swords sheathed when they were among each other in times of peace, only permitting them to draw them out when it became time to fight. Even though most of the men had forged friendships between each other, a byproduct of both the resignation of knowing that they would likely spend an extended amount of time together and the subtle conditioning the commander had instilled in them to force socialization within their numbers, there was always the possibility of betrayal on the horizon. When their common goal was self-advancement and preservation, friends could turn to backstabbing enemies in a heartbeat.
"Some elemental magic technique?' Jax had guessed, knowing that elite warriors within the Noxian military received similar gifts of the sort, runic swords which allowed them to wield the power of earth, wind, and fire at times.
Karzak shook his head. "The commander is a careful man, and it is not a tangible advantage you can see on the battlefield. To tell the truth, it seems silly to talk about it. I feel like the sword is some kind of trinket my mother would give me as a child and tell me it would give me good luck, but when wielding it I swore I could tell what my enemy on the battlefield would do before they did it."
"Predictive event runes?" Jax ventured, very skeptical of the idea. "Sounds like a placebo effect to me more than anything."
"It may very well be," the dark-skinned man said thoughtfully. "But for a placebo to work, you need the idea in your head beforehand. This sword paints me vivid pictures, ones that come alive a second later and allow me to respond with my own work. I know exactly how they will try to block, or dodge, or run away."
Jax knew his friend was skilled and relied quite heavily on his instinct in battle to guide his blade, but the way he was speaking made him believe Karzak was speaking of thoughts on an entirely different plane. If that were true, then there was definitely some mystical power Wargyen had access to, and it was both formidable and dangerous. Still, he chose not to divulge such an opinion to him, instead pretending to keep his skepticism around the sword.
"I know you are a questioning soul, friend, so I will not bother you with the ravings of a crazy man," Karzak joked, and that was the end of that discussion.
Their mission today brought them closer to the heart of Ionia than Jax would have ever believed they would end up. Karzak stood beside him, the taller southerner following Jax's gaze over the grey cliffs upon which they stood, looking over a breathtaking landscape of waterfalls and trees on the other side of the wide chasm which separated them from the Placidium, the largest city of the island nation. Jax remained in his vigil of nature, awaiting the signal from the rest of the scouting group before they could move on. The objective was to seize control of the mountain pass, the shortest route from the Placidium to Navori in the south and a dangerous road where travelers were very prone to becoming waylaid by the mountain bandits who had seized control of the area recently. Wargyen had been charged to exterminating the trespassers, a feat he believed he could accomplish with a mere eight men.
The faint hoot of an owl, not uncommon to hear even in the early morning hours, signified that the clearing ahead had been swept of any potential threats, so Jax nodded to Karzak and headed for the intended rendezvous point. From there, they would quietly advance to a nearby bluff, where they knew in advance that a guard for the mountain bandits would periodically walk by on patrol, and rush him with the utmost speed before he could cry out or alert his brethren that there were intruders. Next they would methodically storm the fortress and take the unsuspecting bandits by surprise, resulting in a swift flushing out of the miscreants from the area.
It was a typical plan of Wargyen, designed to limit the amount of casualties for each side, moreso for the sake of his own men than the bandits, for he dearly cherished the lives of his men, if only for the future worth their skills with a sword could give him rather than the value of their souls themselves. Jax dismissed the thought from his mind as he moved into position. He wasn't here to argue the morality of the commander's decision, to debate right and wrong. He came only for the paycheck, and in the end, money was able to sway people's minds more effectively than righteousness.
Something was amiss, however. The rest of the squadron was supposed to be standing behind the fir tree on the opposite side of the clearing, but none of them had shown themselves to Jax and Karzak yet to ensure that the coast was clear. Perhaps they hadn't anticipated their arrival yet? Jax was about to walk into the middle of the open space to check for himself, but a restricting gesture from Karzak, followed by a wordless command to listen, made him halt and open his ears.
The faint sounds of battle, the clash of steel and the savage shouting of men out for blood. Karzak took up his weapon and moved around the clearing in a roundabout way, yet still intending to reach the other side of the fir eventually. Jax followed behind him. It seemed like the bandits were prepared for their little ambush, and the group had encountered more resistance than originally expected.
What greeted them when they finally joined the battle was a horrifying sight. Jax's attention was drawn to a certain bandit in the middle of the fight, a gigantic brute head and shoulders taller than both his fellow bandits and the swordsmen of the company, his exposed chest stained with blood as he took on two of the mercenaries at once bare-handed. Each of the remaining men had their hands full themselves as the bandits had outnumbered the company two to one on every angle, and they were doing all they could to not be immediately overwhelmed.
Rushing to the aid of the closest mercenary, Karzak entered the fray with a ferocious bellow, drawing his shashka and nearly catching a bandit off guard as the blade nearly missed his target's neck. Jax made not a sound as he made his own entrance into the fight, swiping at a bandit of his own. His sword was easily parried, of course, but the intent of his strike was to study, not to immediately kill.
The bandit seemed to enjoy blocking his swings laterally, a habit Jax was looking to abuse when his opening came, but more pressing matters had captured his attention when the bare-chested giant in the middle began turning on him, having already dispatched of his previous two enemies. Jax was forced to retreat, their numbers quickly dwindling as he hurriedly backpedalled towards the clearing while the bandits, encouraged by their champion's dominance, savagely ran towards the remainder of the mercenaries. He knew there was no chance for them to simply overpower: they would have to approach the fight from a different angle, even using dirty tactics if they were going to make it out of the fray alive. His eye caught Karzak in the mayhem, furiously signalling his comrade to retreat as the rest of the mercenaries had continued to fight in vain.
What are they doing? Can't they see there's no point in turning and fighting?
Jax believed them to be smart enough to realize their disadvantage in this scenario and tactically retreat, but he had just now realized the commander's choice in men was woefully inadequate if they were forced to adapt to a difficult situation. Out of the eight mercenaries on duty for the assignment, only Karzak and himself were capable of understanding what was the best course of action in a fight, and the commander was only aware of Karzak's ability due to his prowess in their weekly tournaments.
Wargyen had gone into planning the mission with the mindset that Karzak's skill alone would allow him to carry the rest of the men to a swift victory. He had never accounted for the possibility of his plan going wrong, or if he did, he had made sure the majority of the squad was simply part of the "expendable stock."
He had no time to see if any of the others made it out alive, for he and Karzak were already far from the fight, a good five of the bandits still on their tail as their surroundings transformed while they ran, the foliage of the forest disappearing into the rocky environment of the mountain. While it was a more open setting, it did leave less opportunities to hide and made it impossible for them to lose their pursuers.
Karzak pointed towards a small ledge, turning direction and wasting no time in scaling up the face of the cliff. It was about twenty-five feet high, but the two of them were able to climb up it relatively easy due to the ample amounts of handholds provided by the natural contour of the cliff. Not even bothering to check if their pursuers had continued the chase, the pair bounded down the length of the ledge, hoping for a way out in the labyrinth of the mountain pass. Jax's heart sank when the path led to a dead end - there was no way to continue as the only thing that greeted them at the edge of the cliff was empty space, the waterfalls pouring into a lake perhaps a hundred feet down, and the mountain next to them much too steep to continue climbing. They heard the sound of the bandits closing in on them, making it apparent that there was no more running for them.
"Well, it looks like our options are sorely limited, my friend," Karzak said sadly as he brought out his shaska. "Will you fight, or will you jump?"
Jax looked over the cliff once more. The staggering amount of foam coming from the rapids made it impossible to tell how deep the water was at the bottom, and there was another fatal factor making jumping an unpleasant possibility: the sharp rocks which awaited them if they didn't jump far enough. Jax was quite confident that he could clear all the ones he could see, but if any lay in the white foam which obscured his vision, his fate was sealed. Still, it was a more attractive solution than taking his chances with that psychotic giant which was on the side of the bandits.
"We're better off jumping," he suggested. "We'll probably need a running start to make sure we clear the rocks, and maybe taking off some of this armor would help…" Jax began undoing his tunic, but stopped when he saw Karzak refusing to move, only responding with a sad smile.
"I cannot do it," he confessed. "You know my origins, how I was born in the desert, where the largest liquid I had seen was the quicksand that nearly killed me. Only death awaits me down there, friend. I would drown."
Jax refused to let Karzak's fear of the water overcome the much more tangible threat of the bandits who were already beginning to close in on their location. "You can't say that! Just take my hand and hold on to me when we jump! I won't let you go!"
Karzak turned to face the bandits, the giant leading their march, taking his time and whetting his lips. To him, they were nothing more than his next meal, Jax mused. "I can fight them and let you escape," Karzak turned to say to him. "If you wish to jump, you should do so now."
Jax remembered the power of the runes embedded within Karzak's sashka, how he had apparently seen future events when he wielded the sword. If his claim was really true, and he knew the outcome of their dilemma, he wouldn't have objected to the jump if it would actually save them. That left only a couple of possibilities. They would either be able to win this fight, or...
"That's madness!" Jax protested. "We go down together, whether it be up here with them or down in the river below!" He drew his greatsword, ready to back Karzak up, but the giant had already closed the distance between them, knocking the southerner's sword out of his hands, the blade falling off the side of the cliff down the mountain with a resounding klang.
Karzak had already recreated the space between himself and the giant, backing away until he was only a couple of feet from the cliff's edge. Jax knew they probably couldn't have even handled the giant with both their swords, let alone his own, and he understood what Karzak probably saw in his sword's vision. They were doomed to die at the giant's hand if they lingered any longer. At least that made his choice a lot easier.
"Jump!" he ordered a shaken Karzak as he pulled his friend's wrist with him as Jax leapt off the precipice with all the strength he could muster. A moment of weightlessness registered with him, and for a second he felt detached from the world, face-to-face with the horizon at the end of the picturesque panorama surrounding him. The next moment was filled with horror, the sensation of falling into the unknown as his heart leapt into his mouth and he choked back a scream as they plunged into the stormy waters below.
The first thing he felt was that his left hand held nothing in its grasp. Impulsively squeezing and finding nothing, Jax tried to sit up at once and immediately regretted doing so. An immensely painful feeling radiated from his chest, and he couldn't help letting loose an anguished yell as he laid back down, cringing from the extreme pain and closing his eyes as he waited for it to recede.
His outburst drew forth footsteps coming from the outside of the room which he realized he was laying in, and Jax reasoned that he was in some kind of building. "You're awake," a young female voice greeted him.
He opened his eyes to see a pair of light brown eyes regarding him curiously, their owner a dark-haired female perhaps in her teenage years. Jax couldn't think much of anything besides the searing pain, so the only response he could give was some strained panting and a sharp intake of breath as he desperately tried to keep himself controlled. It wouldn't do to continue panicking like he was earlier, else the pain would have gotten worse.
After what felt like an eternity, Jax felt relaxed - as relaxed as he could have given his condition - and the girl decided it was time for her to finally explain things. "If you're okay now, I guess I can fill you in. I didn't want to tell you earlier, because I was afraid you'd end up like him if I did, but… your friend is dead."
Karzak… Jax thought. What…? The memories came back to him now. The feel of dropping twenty feet underwater and desperately trying to pull his own weight and the weight of his friend back up to the surface, while keeping both of them afloat as he searched for a way to bring them both ashore. Some incredible burst of energy must have been used to actually accomplish that, as Jax couldn't remember anything past the water threatening to pull him over time and time again and his mind telling him over and over again not to let go of Karzak.
Somehow he held back crying out again. The despair was almost too much to take, but Jax needed to know the whole deal.
"You jumped off the waterfall, didn't you? You're lucky you've only got a few broken ribs, but the other guy… he wasn't breathing when we found you on the shoreline."
I should have known, Jax thought bitterly. If a man can't swim, why should he be expected to know how to dive properly? His death is on my hands.
He tried looking at the girl again, and now that his memories were working properly, he felt the face looked familiar. "You… I've seen you before."
She was surprised. "You have? But… from where?"
The experience was too striking for him to forget. "A little patch of forest outside a town called Xiuguan."
She looked dumbly at him for a second before her face lit up with recognition. "What? Then you are…"
"Yeah, I'm Jax," he said. "Forgive my manners from last time, I left without learning your name."
Despite the gravity of the situation, she couldn't hold back her smile, and Jax thought it endearing. I've gone truly mad now, haven't I.
"My name is Irelia."
A/N: ugh why did this end up so long, I wanted it to be about the same length as the first chapter but the rising action leading up to the jump took much longer than expected so this is now twice as long. Oh well, the more the merrier, right?
Yeah this is really dark and I want to keep the mood like this as best I can. It feels much more compact as well when you're not writing about a million characters, although having a bunch of personalities in a chapter does make it fun to write dialogue.
Deep character relations coming up next (maybe)!