Old Friends.
1:2
A few grains of dust more or less
On ancient shoulders
Locks of weakness on weary foreheads
This theatre of honey and faded roses
Where incalculable flies
Reply to the black signs that misery makes to them
Despairing girders of a bridge
Thrown across space
Thrown across every street and every house
Heavy wandering madnesses
That we shall end by knowing by heart
Mechanical appetites and uncontrolled dances
That lead to the regret of hatred
Nostalgia of justice
~ Paul Elumard
Celene was halfway through her second plate of food when a heavy slam bounced her plate. Looking up she spied Riven seating herself across from her. The table shaker in question was in face a stone sword. Celene recognized it as a distinguished officers weapon; or the first third of one. Riven removed her hand from it slowly, now clad in a large rune covered gauntlet.
"You wanted to go get it before you met me here?" Celene asked, food in her mouth.
"Gragas doesn't like me having it in the bar and i don't like being without it."
"Why is it broken?" Celene asked.
An awkward pause.
Celene blinked, "I understand you don't like Ionian's much but i didn't mean to pry. It's very obvious is all."
"How do you know how I feel about Ionians," Riven said, sounding angry, Celene thought. Riven bit her lip, an annoying nervous tick she had tried to shoo away.
"I read about all of the Champions before I arrived," Celene lied.
Riven forced herself to her feet. The two looked at each other. Riven stared at her questioningly. Celene looked back with a worried expression. Riven was doing her best to look tough- the reaction it got out of people made her feel safe- but this woman seemed totally unaffected. Celene got to her feet, moving slightly too quick for Riven to remain comfortable. Her feet shifted slightly towards a fighting stance, her knuckles whitening around her sword.
"Relax. Just think about it, if I had wanted to do something hostile, don't you think I would have done it already?" Riven relaxed slightly.
"Hugh," Riven sighed, feeling incredibly stupid. Her stomach growled. Celene smiled at her.
"I wanted to walk with you to the food line, is all." Celene said in a remarkably comforting tone.
"I'm capable of walking there myself." Riven retorted.
"You really didn't like the sword question did you?"
"I don't like nosy people I've just met."
"Does knowing you can kick my ass help at all?" Celene replied.
Riven tilted her head and looked at her questioningly.
"Am i allowed to use magic here?" Celene asked. Riven blinked.
"I believe so." Celene nodded.
"Here, sit back down." Celene motioned, Riven remained standing. Celene looked at her sideways. "Whats your favorite food?"
Another pause.
"Come on Riven, that's a much less personal question." Celene crossed her arms under her cloak.
"I really like Ionian moon cakes." Riven said, almost sheepishly.
"Ah ha!" Celene snapped a pair of fingers guns at her. Riven raised and eyebrow but before the motion was complete Celene was gone in a flash of blue light.
Riven jumped backwards nearly ten feet. her sword raised to guard. There was a pause, the sudden flash had startled more then just her but now everyone was staring at her. she sighed.
Riven looked around awkwardly and decided to seat herself, Just as Celene reappeared seated across from her - Again startling the Exile enough for her to nearly fly out of her chair. "These are from my personal stash, i enjoy them a lot as well." Celene said as she held out a platter of the muffin like pastries to the traumatized exile.
Riven looked at her very cautiously, took one -she examined it carefully and took a bite. Celene smiled at her.
"The poison worked." Riven said after a moment of chewing.
Celene smirked at her "I'm sure."
Riven took another bite. she wasn't kidding about liking moon cakes Celene noted as she finished her first.
Celene set the platter between them and decided to change the subject. "So, what happens during the practice match?" Celene asked, following Riven's eyes with her own. The amber eyed woman paused. She bit her lip.
"Hugh, well. A summoner..." she paused, "summons you to this place they call the Proving Grounds, and they sit in the back of your mind and explain how the League matches work and what to do -basically. Then, they have you fight another champion they believe to be 'balanced' and change the power of some of your skills based on what happens," Riven explained, going over her first league match in her head. She stiffened at the thought of combat.
"Balanced?" Celene tilted her head slightly.
"I'm not sure what it means honestly. That's how the summoner explained it to me when I was first placed on the Proving Grounds." Riven bit her lip, and then forced herself to stop in case Celene noticed. "But, they adjust your skills afterward. It's done through the summoning process, however. Many champions jump at the chance to fight in practice matches. Normally, the summoners pilot your body to fight other champions, it's like you're possessed." Celene stiffened. "In practice matches, that's not the case, nor are the adjustments present."
Celene suddenly felt uncomfortable, she distracted herself, scanning the dinning hall.
The hall was nearly devoid of life. Riven paused in the process of ravaging her food, looking over her shoulder. Celene followed her gaze. Riven eyed a table in the far corner of the dining hall. Sitting at the table were the pair of Demacians Celene had spotted yesterday as well as Elder Summoner Marten and a man and woman Celene hadn't seen before. Both were dressed in very expensive-looking white clothing. The man had a coat with fur from some animal lining the inside, and the woman had a silk scarf, more for show then to keep her warm, and a large amount of jewelry. Celene turned to Riven, who was watching intently.
"The Crownguards?" Celene asked. Riven shrugged. The man gestured to Luxanna, whom seemed to recoil slightly in her chair. Marten sat, ponderous before he spoke. Celene couldn't hear him, but he pointed to her. Everyone at the table turned. Riven began to shrink away. Marten didn't motion for her to come. Celene nodded at him turned to leave. He stood along with everyone else at the table. They began to leave.
"You're going to be summoned soon," Riven stated, watching the party leave the hall. Celene watched them leave, wolfing down her food as if her and Riven had begun racing.
"Should I be worried?" Celene asked between bites. Riven glanced at her.
"That depends on what type of person you are and your skills," she said, taking a large bite out of the mooncake she seemed to love so much. "From what i saw of your hand to hand your stupid tricks with your cloak and defensive style wont help when just Lux vaporizes you." Riven stated flatly.
"Okay, let me rephrase the question. How did you feel during your practice match?" Celene had finished most of her food by now. She was a fast eater. She had needed to fight with others over food before. The habit had been worked into her. Riven pondered the question for a long time. She opened her mouth to answer then closed it a few times over.
Her amber eyes explored the Ionian's deep blue, and Riven considered lying about herself. She was right about her before; the eyes were hollow pits behind an expertly crafted veil of normality that had been removed just for Riven in this moment, she had allowed the the guard to her soul to fall for her to see in. Riven blinked, examining her carefully, and learned a great many things about Celene. Humanity, guilt, anger, grief, and a sense of loss as if she was constantly pondering how much time everyone had left. The striking resemblance between Celene's eyes and the amber pair Riven saw in the mirror made her feel more secure.
Celene knew what she was doing, probing Riven in a similar manner. She respectfully waited for Riven to finish and respond to her question rather than pressing or changing the subject. Her attention was acutely focused on Riven and what she had to say. Finally, the exile sighed and looked down at her plate.
"I was terrified, but when I actually started fighting, I wasn't scared anymore. I just don't panic in a fight. I focus. It's the only reason I'm still alive." She looked away, not comfortable with the amount of information she had revealed. Celene frowned. Something about Riven made her feel sad. Celene glanced around the hall. It was nearly empty aside from the vendors and the woman in the purple dress and tall hat from yesterday. She was eyeing them. Celene turned away from her, just in case she could read lips.
"you were scared today?" Celene asked. Riven snorted.
"No, that wasn't fighting. That was practice." Riven replied. Celene made a face at her.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Celene said, lowering her voice and leaning in. She didn't wait for Riven to answer the question, only until she had her full attention.
"I'm not like other people. I would go far enough not to call myself a person. I get called things like monster, freak, demon, abomination." She paused. The topic was uncomfortable for her, but she felt the need to explain it to somebody. "I don't know how long I've been alive, I can't remember far enough back but I'm old, very, very, very, old." Riven was looking straight at her, listening intently. Celene frowned, the first frown she allowed the Exile to see.
"Because of my nature, it makes me hurt people that don't deserve it. However much I hate myself, I've learned over my long life to accept it, because there isn't much I can do about it, it won't change and I can never truly die," Celene finished. Riven stared hard at her. Her amber eyes felt like they were burning holes in her forehead.
"What are you, exactly...?" Riven asked the question slowly, her voice low and serious.
"If I knew exactly, I would tell you. I have potentially been around forever. As for your question, I've heard terms like ghost, phantom, and monster being used before." Riven's face didn't change. She was stoic as a still lake, her skin like glass. Celene raised her hand to her face, pressing her fingers on her cheek. "This..." She paused.
"This doesn't belong to me; it belongs to an Ionian girl named Earth I met a long time ago. My touch makes the bodies ageless. The worst part of it, they don't die. From what I can tell, they are aware. Earth can see and hear everything I see and hear. She is currently involved in this conversation, seeing me spill my guts to a woman I barely know. I sometimes say I'm sorry in the mirror, but she would never forgive me. I don't want her to," she paused. Her chest hurt, and she felt horrible.
"Why are you telling me all this?" Riven asked, confused. She leaned in. Celene felt her eyes tearing up. She hating crying.
"Because I want a person to judge me for what I am, not for the lie I present to them to stay away from the noose. There is no justice in my existence." Celene muttered, turning her eyes from the Exile. "That's why I came here."
"That's because there is no justice in this world. Just groups of people with different beliefs and morals trying to control each other. Morality is like clay, you can mold it into whatever shape you want with your hand, but it won't protect you from anything. My experiences in Ionia taught me that at the cost of hundreds of lives. Justice is a word used in place of retribution. You should not seek justice, mold your own morals, you should seek peace with yourself and those around you," Riven finished, running low on profound words. Celene sighed.
"That's why you're here, isn't it," Celene asked, resting her face in her hands.
"Violence to end the violence," Riven answered. She had finished her plate. She looked at the sad Ionian form in front of her.
"I don't like to admit it, but I actually enjoy fighting. It makes the real me feel alive. It's hard to explain," Celene said. Riven sighed. She hadn't expected the conversation to get so personal. She had just met this woman.
"Hugh. Can I tell you a secret?" Riven leaned in and asked nervously. Celene raised her head.
"So do I deep down. I think it comes with this," Riven finished, placing her fingers over her heart. Celene managed a smile.
"I knew you were interesting the second I saw you," Celene said. Riven felt a wide smile work its way on to her face for the first time in a long while.
"Have you ever been trained to use a sword?" Riven asked, pulling her sword from the seat beside her and slamming it heavily on the table.
"I personally prefer my natural abilities. May I?" Celene gestured to the sword. Riven nodded, hesitantly releasing her grip from the weapon. Celene wrapped her thin fingers around the weapons handle and pulled. She was unable to lift it. She tried a second time, managing to slide it about a foot across the tabletop. Riven actually felt herself giggle. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the sound and the blush that followed. Celene gave up. Riven wrapped her gauntleted hand around the handle, lifting the blade as though it weighed nothing. Celene pouted in response.
"Now, show me your 'sword'," Riven demanded, politely.
"Mine is a lot scarier." Celene reached for her brooch.
Now? A familiar voice teased through her mind. Celene scowled, earning an odd look.
She paused; thinking twice, smiled, and then held her hand out, thinking about the times she had fought in the past. Celene's chest began to feel warm.
a single glowing blue tendril extended out of her finger tip in an abnormally relaxed manner. Celene noted the lack of a recent memory where she had simply shown them to someone for the sake of doing so.
"Those are strange." Riven half muttered, leaning forward for a closer look.
"I can move these like they're an arm or a leg. I can have as many as I want, make them as long as I want. They're strong, and because of how thin they are, they can slice and puncture with ease." she finished, idly wrapping the tendrils around her fingers. Riven examined one closely. The League was full of interesting creatures with interesting abilities, so this was intriguing rather than surprising. Celene exhaled softly. The blue strands seemed to retract. As to where they actually retracted to, Riven couldn't see. She turned her eyes up to Celene.
"Those are why you're unarmed?" Riven asked. Celene nodded.
"That and weapons have a symbolic quality i dont like -Humanity overcoming the world through ingenuity and the like. I don't consider a weapon to be a fitting accessory of something like me."
Riven nodded and changed the subject. "The Crownguards are likely in the summoning chamber by now; I'd expect you to be summoned any moment."
Celene nodded. An awkward silence followed.
"Excuse me, all this talking has made me hungry again," Riven said as she turned towards the Ionian vender. Celene watched her walk away. She actually felt a twinge of impatience- she was excited. It was rare Celene was given the opportunity to do something she had never done before.
She felt a wave of heat wash over her. Confused, she searched for its source.
"Celene, good to talk to you again. It's Marten," a voice in the back of her head sprang up. She could feel the mental connection between them, a soft pull in the back of her mind, tugging at her attention.
"I'm assuming you're summoning me now," she said aloud. She was hardly surprised by the method of contact.
"That is correct, young lady." Celene scowled but quickly got rid of it so her new friend wouldn't see. She saw Riven returning, more mooncakes on her plate.
"So how does this work?" Celene thought to herself.
"Like this, don't be alarmed." Marten answered. A blue ring of light erupted from the ground around her feet. It pulsed with runes that began to write themselves along the outsides of the ring. It pulsed more intensely.
"Hang on a second; summoning you is a tad strange. It's like I'm summoning two people. Don't worry, I don't want to brag, but I'm very good at this." Marten said. Riven nodded at her. Celene took that as '"Good luck, don't die."
"Okay, here comes the no-fun part. It's always the worst the first time, though, this will get better." Marten warned. The circle vanished, and with it, everything. The hall, the smell of food, all sound and Riven. Everything was black for a moment. There was a sound, a buzz that quickly raised to an intense scream. She felt her feet hit solid ground, and with an audible bang, she was standing on a cobblestone platform. Her legs collapsed under her as she fell to her hands and knees. Her stomach retaliated violently. She gritted her teeth, managing to keep the breakfast she had just eaten.
The platform was raised high in the air above a forest of pine trees, the branches blowing in the wind; though the air on the platform was unnaturally still. There was a large structure in front of her. A large blue crystal pulsing with energy floated above it, surrounded by eight robed statues. Each was holding a smaller blue crystal. Beyond that was a large stone statue that resembled a knight or a solder, lacking legs in favor of a circular base lined with glowing runes. It held a shield in its left hand with a blue gem in the center and a staff in its right. The staff was topped with another blue crystal. Beyond that was what looked like a bridge the other side of which was blocked by a fog. She pushed herself back onto her feet and brushed herself off. The nausea passed quickly, and she felt completely normal.
"Okay, so, for this, you just need to combat your enemy. Use all skills you have at your disposal if possible, even your nastiest ones."
"I thought you were going to explain stuff to me?" Celene questioned.
"As it happens."
"Fuck, fine," Celene sighed, her chest beginning to feel hot again. She rubbed at it through her shirt using her magic again was showing its side effects.
"THIRTY SECONDS UNTIL MINIONS SPAWN," the voice of a female announcer boomed over the platform.
"Minions?" She asked.
"You'll see. I'm going to show you what it feels like to be piloted by a summoner, if you don't mind." Her limbs suddenly stopped responding and her vision began to haze blue around the edges. Her hand raised without being ordered to do so. Marten inspected her fingernails.
"Very unladylike like of you to bite your nails, you know." he said snickering. Celene's body took a step. She could still feel her everything as she was walked to the knight-like statue.
"Pretty simple, yes? You're in control again now." The grip on her released. She felt a tad dizzy. Blinking, she curled her fingers. Control was indeed hers again. She smiled at the irony behind how piloting worked.
"MINIONS HAVE SPAWNED," boomed the announcer. There was the sound of stone scraping on stone behind her. The eight robed statues raised their crystals high above their heads, magical energy arcing wildly between the large center crystal and the small ones. A line of short robed dolls assembled themselves from nothing in front of the structure, wielding what looked like toy weapons. They began to advance forward, passing her and continuing on. Celene watched for a moment before beginning to jog alongside the line of six minions, three of them with metal clubs and three with small wands.
"That structure that spawned them is called a nexus. In a normal match, your team wins by forcing a surrender or destroying the enemy's nexus. The arena is mirrored, as is this one. The towering statue you just passed is called...well, a tower. It serves to guard your base until toppled." Celene didn't answer back, jogging idly alongside the minions. They passed a second tower. A third was in view, this one facing her with a purple crystal instead of blue.
"Okay, so the tower's range is marked by the line of runes on the stone in front of it." Celene noted the circular wall of runes etched into the cobblestone in front of the second tower as she passed it. She could see a line of purple minions approaching. The two lines ran right into each other. The minions began clubbing each other around, the wand-wielding ones behind throwing rather harmless looking balls of light. She watched for a moment. It looked like toy soldiers fighting to the death. An odd sight.
"Try killing one. In a match, killing a minion, a tower, or a champion will award the summoner with 'gold', which they can use to buy items, which augment your abilities. We aren't doing any of that here, but try anyway." Celene watched for a moment, nodding in comprehension. She spied a minion that seemed to be getting ganged up on by a several others. She centered herself, her chest began to feel hot and strands of blue extending from her fingers. She raised her arm and pointed at the minion almost lazily. The blue strand extended with blinding speed, spearing the construct. It fell to the ground and vaporized into purple ashes.
"Heh," she half giggled. Panning her hand to another one, she jabbed it through what would be its face. It fell as well and vaporized.
"Very interesting, Celene" Marten said.
Her wave of minions was gaining ground. She continued for a moment or two before her line advanced to the tower. The purple crystal glowed brightly before blasting the closest advancing minion with a bolt of purple energy. With a bang, the minion vanished. After a few seconds, the whole line was gone.
I see, she thought. "That's fun."
"Well get good at it, it's very important."
Celene spotted movement in the distance. A thin figure stepped out from behind the tower. The figure advanced, but did not step over the line of runes that marked her tower's range. Celene had seen the Demacian mage the day before. She smiled widely.
"My name is Luxanna Crownguard, the Lady of Luminosity and the shining beacon of the King and Demacian justice," she said giving a deep bow.
Justice, Celene thought, remembering what Riven had said. Lux reached for a baton that hung from her hip by a metal ring on her armor. Celene had taught herself to avoid combat, at least to this extent. Exposing herself often had unsavory consequences. Humans were expected to abhor violence and Celene for all her wanton attempting at humanity tried; but violence… Something about it, she just adored, though she dared not admit it.
"Celene. I can feel that" Marten said calmly. "Look youngster, I read your file, I know you're fighting with yourself but we need a solid test of your abilities…"
I know. Celene thought to herself.
She swallowed and composed herself; allowing her impulsive nature control, she smiled. A prickle of excitement washed over her body.
"There you go; now, kill her. Or try to –you know, for science."
Lux went on, noting Celene's silent staring. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I represent the righteous flag of Demacia on the Fields of Justice today." She pointed the baton at Celene. The last of the Ionian's self-control fell. She felt her chest burn, her smile turning to a smirk, then to an ear-to-ear grin. Excitement taking hold, her morality fired back at her but she shoved it away. Part of her had been waiting for this -for so long; though not for this blonde young woman. Celene redirected that part towards the mage in front of her and the heat in her chest reached near unbearable heights.
Celene eyed her new target excitedly, savoring the tension with zeal rather unlike the facade she put on for others and herself. She could see Lux's knuckles tighten on her baton. Celene felt her eyes dilating, her heart rate increasing; a small shiver ran up her spine. The Ionian exhaled a heavy sigh, half excitement and half meditation as she flexed her fingers under her cloak. All of Celene's knuckles popped in gorgeous sequence and she spoke, this wasn't going to be like her little match with Riven. "My name is Celene. I am the monster that is going to ruin your day. It's nothing personal." Lux tensed slightly, expecting the manners to be returned. Celene noted the odd absence of the wispy inflection in her speech. Her pitch had sharpened keenly to an almost euphoric razor point.
"Is that so?" She advanced a step, spinning on her toe as she spun her baton. An orb of twisting light flew directly towards Celene. The world slowed to near half its normal speed as a flood of adrenaline washed over the small Ionian. Celene loved this feeling and the moment it hit her she knew she was free. No more control.
Finally.
She felt herself stick to the ground as the orb got within proximity. Drawing a breath, she disappeared. The light mage paused, scanning for her target. The only sound was the soft buzz coming from the twisting mass of light.
Back in the summoning chamber Marten looked across his orb to the summoner managing Lux. Summoner Beyal. "That's so busted." Beyal muttered. Marten nodded, Celene would probably need some adjustment.
"Coward, huh? That's okay, many run at the sight of the Demacian standard," Lux said loudly.
"A coward?" The voice was soft, coming from below her. Lux snapped her eyes down. Celene was laying on her back, her arms crossed behind her head, neatly between Lux's ankles. She smiled up at her as Lux gasped in surprise. Lux slid her baton through her hand until she was holding it by its end, swinging it down with a feminine squeak, like a club. Celene vanished again, reappearing instantly on her feet in front of the mage. She stepped on the baton's end as it struck the cobblestone with a clunk, pinning it. The Ionian paused, allowing Lux time to process what was happening. She noted the shifts in her expression, unconcealed emotion jumping across her face.
"I feel like coward might be the wrong word." Celene said as Lux stepped backward, attempting to retreat to the safety of her tower. Strands of blue climbed up the staff from Celene's foot, reaching Lux's wrist, and wrapping around. They forced their way under her fingers. Lux yelped at the sudden invasion of her personal space. Stepping back again she gritted her teeth, attempting to rip her hand free of the strands. Celene blinked. The strands shortened, pulling the young mage towards her attacker. She stumbled, but kept her balance. The mage caught herself and let go of the baton, moving her hands in a circular motion, and swooped her arm at Celene. A line of light shot forward. Celene disappeared before it collided with her. Reappearing next to the mage, she whipped her wrist, sending a small barrage of blue strands towards Lux. The mage's eyes snapped to hers. She snapped her fingers and thrust her palms outwards at her sides, a glimmering sphere of light appearing around her. The blue tendrils struck the orb of light, bouncing limply off. Lux stepped on the end of her baton, snapping into the air, her fingers coiling around it. Not wasting the momentum, she spun, sending another twisting orb of light towards Celene. Celene disappeared again, reappearing at the edge of her own tower's range. With her opponent sized up Celene decided to rethink her strategy. The mage seemed to struggle up close, but had range on her, and she could just retreat to her tower.
"Is that all you do, run and flick string at me?" Lux shouted from the other end of the battlefield. Celene almost laughed at Lux's extraordinary underestimation of her. She took a step forward and locked eyes with the light mage. Her chest felt like it was going to explode. She wanted out. She wanted Lux.
"What a naïve little prodigy. Any and all skills, Marten?"
"You holding back is going to make this take longer –so If you please, Miss Celene," he replied. His tone told her he was enjoying himself. Celene cracked an amused smile at Marten's misunderstanding of the situation.
"Any and all," she repeated aloud. She extended her arms to their full length and spread her fingers. Bright blue tendrils exploded from her arms and back, flying in a wave at the mage. She felt her eyes begin to glow as she stared down Lux. Lux's eyes widened. She threw her baton towards the advancing wave, surrounding herself with the same sphere of protective light as the baton returned like a boomerang. The tendrils struck the shield with audible force. It held fast under the barrage of blue cord. Celene flicked her wrist, the tendrils smashed against the shield again, much harder this time. Cracks began to appear. Lux noticed, leaning to her left and breaking into a full sprint as the shield gave in. The tendrils turned, following her. She dove forward into a roll as one managed to wrap itself around her foot.
Celene flicked her wrist. Lux was lifted mid-dive and thrown a good fifty feet down the lane, towards the monster. Lux struck the ground and tumbled, managing to convert the kinetic energy into a backwards roll. She landed neatly on her feet, her baton still firmly in her hand. She swung it at Celene, sending another twisting ball of light towards her. Celene disappeared, appearing less than an inch from the mage's face. She felt her nose brush Lux's.
"Hello." Celene said.
The mage yelped and recoiled. Celene grabbed the front of her breastplate and pulled her forward, putting her off balance. She opened her mouth and bit down on the side of Lux's neck. An iron taste flooded her mouth.
The mage screamed in pain and surprise, balling her hand into a fist and swinging at the side of Celene's head. A wall of blue tendrils intercepted the blow, wrapping their way around the mage's fist. Forcing their way between her fingers, up her arm, under her sleeve, and inside her white silk glove. The two met in a few milliseconds of eye contact. Just long enough for Celene to convey to Lux that she was a plaything, the test was a game to the Ionian. This made Lux very angry.
Lux gritted her teeth, swinging her knee upward and planting it in Celene's groin. Celene let go of the mage's neck with her teeth. Lux swung her head forward, her forehead smacking Celene on the nose. Celene's hands shot to her face as the mage took a step back and flicked her baton. A blast of light erupted from the end just as Celene looked up, blinding her. Lux flicked it again and a bolt of light struck Celene, ropes of light wrapping around her feet and arms. Lux cocked her arm back and swung the baton. A small spear of light struck Celene. The ropes brightened and exploded, sending her backwards off her feet. The monster tumbled; her new cloak tangled around her as she bounced once and came to rest splayed on her back.
There was a pause.
"She got you pretty good, I felt that." Marten commented.
"Ow..." Celene drew a pained breath and forced herself to her feet her vision blurred, her skin burning. Lux stood clutching her shoulder. The wound was staining her white gloves crimson. She glared, pointing her baton at Celene's face. Her smile was gone, her teeth gritted aggressively. Celene felt anger turning in her chest, her eyes narrowed at the light mage. The standoff lasted for a few moments as neither moved. The area around Lux began to dim noticeably, her staff glowing brightly.
"Burn under the lights of Demacian justice, monster!" Lux said softly. Her voice was devoid of its spring in favor of a lower and more threatening angry tune, the staff was blinding now.
Celene knew she had to move. She disappeared. Lux scanned for her target. Spotting Celene to her left, she swung the baton fully extended at arm's length. Celene noted she was trying to point it at her and ducked inside her guard. The baton met her forearm; as Celene's other hand closed around the mage's neck. A beam of blinding light erupted from the baton's end, just behind Celene's head, sending a shiver down her spine. The hair hanging too close instantly vaporized as the beam put a neat circular hole in Lux's tower. As Celene's grip tightened, Lux instinctively wrapped her fingers around Celene's wrist as her baton-wielding hand was pinned by Celene's left. The pair scuffled for a moment, but with her superior experience Celene managed to force the mage onto her back, pinning her baton to the ground. Lux kicked at her, but her armored boots failed to get the leverage needed to do more than sting. The mage was struggling to breathe. Lux managed to shift just enough to allow herself leverage, her baton slammed into the side of Celene's head. Stars flashed across her vision as she absorbed the blow and snarled.
Lux's arm was primed for a second strike but she paused when the Ionian woman's grip on her throat tightened beyond what Celene strength could possibly allow. Celene lifted her hand away from the mage's throat; tendrils from Celene's fingers and coiled tightly around her neck, so tightly thin trails of blood begun to emerge. Celene caught the baton in her hand as Lux attempted to club her a second time. There was a pause as the Ionian made eye contact the world fell silent as Lux's oxygen deprived senses began to fall. Celene felt the corner of her lip twitch; blood poured down the right side of her face where lux had hit her and her body informing her painfully of the damage was only making her angrier.
Lux was struggling frantically now. Her expression had shifted from anger to panic. Celene leaned in, pressing her forehead against Lux's. The coil of tendrils around Lux's neck had snaked downward, entangled her extremities, and immobilized her. Celene's other hand grabbed Lux's chin just after the mage drew a sharp breath and began to splutter. Celene forced Lux to look at her, commanding her attention.
"What was it you were saying? Monster?" Celene asked with a sadistic smile. There was another pause. "You have absolutely no grasp of the word… Monster." Celene twisted the baton away from between Lux's fingers and tossed it aside. She loosened the cords grip, allowing the mage to breathe. Celene closed her eyes, exhaling through her bleeding nose, and released all of the heat in her chest in a long sigh. Blue strands erupted from Celene's back, coiling around the two like snakes. Lux began to struggle again, gritting her teeth in pain as they probed at the bite wound.
Celene eyed the woman below her. She had begun to scream in distress, thrashing against Celene. The strands began protruding from between the Ionian's thin lips. She parted them and slowly began to draw herself out of the body as if shedding an unwanted item of clothing. Celene paused, keeping just barely enough control to register Lux's horrified expression. She had stopped screaming and simply stared at the sheer volume of blue tendrils calmly shifting above her with more still coming. Her brow furled in distress as she could only allow her mind to conjure up all sorts of terrible fates for her; all of which better then what was actually about to happen.
"Mercy…" Lux whimpered. All at once, Celene fell limp as the mass began to extract itself farther. She landed on Lux's chest, seemingly dead. Lux didn't notice, too busy with the ever growing mass that loomed over her threateningly, coiling. "Please…Mercy. Mercy! –Mercy!"
It lunged.
The thin tendrils darted towards her face. Even with her lips pursed tightly, a pair carefully wriggled in past them and forced their way between Lux's clenched teeth. Lux bit down and regretted immediately, the tendrils didn't yield at all against her teeth, sending a painful shock through her jaw. Her hands and legs were now free. Lux grabbed at the invaders, her boots kicking at the ground to get her farther from her attacker. It was at this point Lux learned of the strands' strength. With near comical ease the pair of tendrils calmly forced Lux's teeth apart and held her mouth ajar. She made a sound, a squeak but Celene didn't give her time to ponder as the large mass darted for the opening. Her access to oxygen was removed all at once. Lux's gag reflex protested but it didn't matter. They pushed, and she was forced to swallow. Her eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the strands force their way under her skin. Tears streamed down her face as she began to surrender. She wanted it to stop but it didn't.
Something pulled at the back of her thoughts, an odd presence. It felt like an oil slick flooding her head. Her body burned in protest, but she had no strength left. She curled herself into a ball and the strands seemed to disappear down her throat. Her ability to breathe was returned. She spluttered and began to cough. A wave of convulsions and pain struck her like a landslide as her motor control was ripped from her.
"Lux! Are you alright!?" Summoner Beyal barked in the back of her head. She choked out heavy sobs, unable to formulate clear thought. She tried to move her hand to wipe her eyes as she began to recover. The limb refused to obey. The fingers curled and uncurled on their own, Lux felt a grin rising on her lips that wasn't hers. She began to panic.
Beyal flinched as hysteria leaked across the mental connection. "What the fuck!" shouted the summoner as he stole an uncomfortable look at Marten. The elder summoner was frantically incanting; attempting to restore his shattered connection with Celene. Beyal was shocked; all at once, he felt the tether with Lux snap. For a brief moment, neither summoner had any idea what was happening.
"Shit!" marten shouted, and began incanting again. Beyal did the same, both summoners trying to find either of their Champions in the mess of mental connections and thoughts.
Marten got through first; he had found Celene and latched on.
"Got her!" he shouted, he flicked his ob to make sure the enchantments on the field were working.
"LUXANNA HAS BEEN SLAIN," boomed the announcer. It echoed through the summoning chamber and Marten exhaled. Thankfully they were
Beyal looked at his orb puzzled.
"This was a mistake." Marten rasped. Sweat pooled on his forehead as he attempted to force the mental connection.
"I can't get through to Lux at all, it's like she doesn't exist." Beyal bit his lip in stress.
"Yea I've noticed, Celene's conciseness seems to be… Beyal, break off; let me try and get to Lux." Marten ordered. Beyal obeyed and took his hands away from the orb in front of him. The old mage began to tinker with the delicate structure of the spell, attempting to fabricate a connection.
Celene's new lips shaped to make a whimsical whistle, testing her new voice and enjoying the extraordinary high. If Lux couldn't whistle before she probably could now. Celene pushed her old body off her and looked up at the sky. Lux watched helplessly through eyes that no longer belonged to her.
"Celene. Holy shit!"
"Oh. Marten, you still there?" Celene thought, running a silk-gloved hand through her new blonde hair. She blinked, watching the clouds overhead for a moment before she sat up.
"Holy fucking shit," Marten replied. "This is… I… I need to think." Celene held up Lux's baton, examining herself in its reflective surface. She was covered in blood. She brushed her messy blond hair aside and took a moment to examine herself, running her silk-gloved hands up along her thighs. She made a face. She felt her stomach, sliding her hands under the armor, and felt her breast. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt her hips. This wasn't her favorite body. After being used to her old one, it felt too heavy. Lux was by no means overweight but Celene's old body was roughly one hundred pounds, she guessed it wouldn't be hers much longer. Celene looked at her old body, lying limp beside her, still drawing breath.
That's when the high faded; the trauma she'd likely inflicted sinking in. The reality hit Celene like battering ram. An explosion of guilt sprang up in her new heart. As sadistic as she was, she really hated doing this, but the League of Legends offered certain leniencies. The damage was by no means unrepairable. She told herself. She sighed, knowing what she was doing; that she was lying again. Celene decided to be responsible –Lux deserved that much at least.
"I'm sorry," she said aloud to Lux whom she knew was listening. "I'll return it in a moment."
"I think how we're going to do this is summon the two of you back, so you can return Luxanna's body." A ring of light appeared around Lux's feet. The runes danced. She inhaled through her nose, relaxing her muscles. The world vanished all at once. There was a moment's pause. Celene tried to imagine what Lux was thinking. She frowned. The ground hit her feet. Celene wobbled but kept her balance.
Better than before, she thought. She panned her head around the room. She was in a dimly lit stone chamber, shaped like an eight. In the middle she stood, Celene's body lying on the floor face up. Between the two of them was Marten and another summoner in purple robes.
"Holy shit Lux are you alright?" the summoner in purple robes shouted.
"Luxanna," Marten said. Celene panned to him.
"Me or her?" Lux's body answered.
"We both know which." Marten looked at her oddly.
"Lux, we are going to try and reacquaint you with your body now, that must be rather terrifying, but it's temporary," Marten stated. He motioned with his hand to the body lying on the floor. Lux advanced on it. She wanted to get this over with, as guilt was starting to overwhelm her. She paused. The door to the chamber burst open. The large Demacian soldier ducked into the chamber sword drawn, the two elder Crownguards in tow. He stared hard at Lux and advanced. Celene felt her new feet slide into stance. There was a heat in her chest. The soldier slowed and dropped his sword and pulled her into a tight hug, lifting Celene and her new body off the ground. His armor was cold and hard against her cheek, her arms pinned under his. After a moment, he let her down. The man flinched, noticing her eyes glowing unnaturally.
"My sister is okay, isn't she?" He asked. His voice was hard, but his face softened in the blue light. He grabbed Celene by her shoulders as if to shake her for information on Lux's condition but held her still. His face told her that he was completely unsure how to approach Lux's situation.
"She's not in any danger, but okay? I can imagine she's pretty fucking terrified." Celene said. Her brother recoiled. Lux and Celene spoke very differently, His sister perfectly mimicking Celenes thin accent and inflection. It was very strange. She eyed him, raising an eyebrow. It felt odd and she raised a gloved hand to her brow.
"Heh," she giggled, "she plucks her eyebrows, I'm honestly not sure why that's amusing," she said, turning her eyes to the wide-eyed Crownguards. There was a silence.
"Listen to me, creature." Garen said softer than normal. "If my sister is hurt, so help me…"
Celene broke at that point. The guilt and anger she had been suppressing exploded once prodded by him. Lux's hands came up and shoved Garen. Though unbenounced to Garen himself the blue tendrils extending from her fingers provided most of the force. He slide rather than stumbled a good few feet backward. "Get the fuck out of my face and listen to me!" Celene snapped. She glared at Lux's parents, cowering behind Garen. Garen blinked in shock at Celene's ability to move him.
"You too!" Celene barked the Crownguard parents. Her voice raised to a shout, echoing off the chamber walls as everyone back away from her.
"You think I like this!?" Celene motioned to Lux as though she were herself. "See you're lucky because YOU were born. YOU have a place for your soul to sit then you grow and, die and fuck off to somewhere else!"
Celene advanced a step. "I don't have a choice! I never in all my life had a choice! I'm fucked!" Lux's thin, gloved finger pointed to Celene's old body, still breathing on the chamber floor. "She is just like Lux; everybody I've ever been in has been just like Lux. All of them are dead now but sucks for me because I'm Immortal. I have to be in a body. If I'm not, guess what happens; I possess whichever is closest!"
"I was told, to show off what I can do. You are in the fucking League of Legends, people die here. Every one of these 'Champions' has killed someone, including Lux herself. There is NOWHERE else for me to be!" Celene feel silent. At that point, Celene's anger began to give way to an unyielding ocean of depression.
"What are you…?" Garen muttered, shocked.
Celene sighed through Lux's nose, her shoulders slackened. "I have no idea… I'm going to return your sister now, alright? I promise it won't look like it did in that match, I was..." She paused.
"Excited," she turned her head to the body lying on the platform, her eyes casting blue light over it. She took a step and nearly lost her balance. Lux was proportioned differently than her. She regained her footing and advanced, kneeling down in front of her old body; Earth's body. Her eyes went wide, the breathing quickening as the body snatcher leaned over her. Her face screamed in distress but she seemed to lack the motor control to do much besides stare.
"I'm sorry, I know this isn't fair. I will try to work something out to make your life better. This won't hurt, I promise," Celene lied. She put her hand on her heart. The breastplate was in the way. She quickly undid the clasps and lifted it off over her head. The heat was building in her chest. She turned to look at the summoners and Crownguards, all of whom were watching intently. She started to release herself. Blue strands punched their way out of her back. She arched her back and yelped in pain, her breathing quickening. The mass wasn't twisting and writhing excitedly it had before. It was waving in the air, like long hair under water. They grew in length and number. Moments went by before Celene had fully removed herself from Lux's body. She felt her control receding. With the last of it, she lifted Earth and pulled her into a tight hug. The blue strands wrapped around the two of them. Celene thought for a moment, trying to figure out the least painful way to do this. There wasn't a painless one, but she settled on the ripping-off-a-bandage method. The strands all at once parted her mouth and slide inside with no resistance. Her eyes went wide. She arched in against Lux, her short nails digging into the light mage's shoulders. The strands receded into their familiar home, removing themselves from Lux. Lux collapsed and began to cough.
After a few seconds, they were gone. Celene blinked. After a brief moment of lifeless, incorporeal non-existence, she was now looking at the mage that had her arms around her. Lux looked rather shocked, her eyes wide. She blinked, and then blinked again, realizing she was doing it. Celene got to her feet, prying the mage's arms from around her. She stood and offered her hand to the mage. Lux looked at it, and then to Celene, who was smiling. Lux's blue gave her a glare back as she slapped the hand away from her, pushing herself shakily to her feet on her own.
"Monster." Lux said bluntly. Celene's smile disappeared and she let out a depressed sigh.
"I know," she muttered, turning her eyes, now brightly glowing, from the mage. She felt sick. A conversation was started among the Crownguards. Celene didn't hear it. Everything reduced to a dull drone. She looked at the hand Lux had slapped away. A hand landed on her shoulder, turning to it, she was relieved to see that it was wrinkled and covered in liver spots.
"This is combat," he said softly. "You won and she's angry she lost in front of her parents." Celene turned to him.
"Did you see any of what I just did?! Nothing about that bothers you?!" She asked, her voice almost scolding. Marten's face didn't change.
"No, because you are unique. While that was… shocking I can tell you try not to hurt people. –for what it's worth the same can't be said for many of the other champions." Celene turned away from him.
"Only after I've already done it do I feel guilty, up until then..." She drew in a breath and she felt herself beginning to sob. Anger sparked up in her chest, her nose wrinkling "Up until then, I enjoy it." Marten's face was ponderous. He sighed.
"Look Celene… I made a mistake. When I told you any and all skills I wasn't expecting… 'That.'" Marten put his hand on her shoulder looked at her hard. No cheery smile, no perk eyebrows just flatness. Celene flicked her eyes to the hand irritating her with its presence. Marten refused to move it, commanding her attention. "Young lady, I'm not going to pamper you like a child, and you know what you are and what you've done. I do not have the authority to decide what becomes of you or if anything you do is justified; that is not my call."
He let go of her. She felt a burning self-loathing in her chest. She turned her eyes to the light mage. Lux no longer looked angry, she looked vacant. Could she just have been upset about losing in front of her parents? Celene straightened up, pushing the self-loathing away. There were no room for destructive feelings in her body. Her logic told her there was no way to act on them. They just resided in her as a punishment for existing, something she could not help. She was doing what she was told. Had Marten not asked her to demonstrate her skills none of this would have happened. She drew a breath and wiped her eyes. She suddenly felt angry she was blaming the older man.
I didn't do anything wrong, she reassured herself. She approached the group of Demacians. The soldier turned. Looking down at her, his mouth was not visible past the breastplate of his thick armor.
"I'm sorry, I..." she began.
"Enough!" He raised his gauntleted hand to her face. "I will not lie and say I am capable of understanding you or your situation, therefore, I cannot pass judgment on you. The summoner has taken responsibility for you." Marten nodded as Garen lowered his hand. "But, you clearly hold no hatred for Demacia or my sister, and as such, will not be treated as an enemy." He snuck in a glare at Lux.
"How do you know I don't hold hatred for you and your people?" Celene asked softly. Garen's face stiffened.
Lux stepped passed her brother, right up to the smaller Ionian. "Listen to me…" she said calmly. Celene blinked. Lux snarled and slapped her across the face. "LISTEN TO ME!" she shrieked. "Do you have any idea what that felt like?! I have killed dozens of people and been slain on the fields more times than I can even remember and NOTHING was as invasive and disgusting as what you just did."
Celene's face landed in her hands. "I was doing what I was to-"
"Don't give me that. You were angry. You were angry that I hurt you. You may not have any control over whatever the fuck you are but you don't have an excuse for lacking self-control!"
At this Celene just laughed. Lux bristled like a wet cat.
"Self-control?" she said, her hand closed on the brooch holding her cloak around her shoulders and she began arguing with herself even more than Lux. The Ionian eyed Lux as the awaited the rest of her explanation.
"Both of you shut the fuck up." Marten said flatly. Everyone give him a startled look. "Lux, it's my fault; she was doing what she was told. If that is not good enough for you than you have a lot to learn about war. Celene; you have serious issues with your self-control do not act as if you don't, own up and work on fixing it. I'm assigning you a mandatory therapist. Both of you kiss and make up, I've got shit to do so get out." Marten sighed and pointed at the door.
Celene groaned. "Again, I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, but I can't be forgiven for anything I've done. I should really try and come to terms with it."
"Don't. The moment you come to terms with it is the moment it wins." Lux crossed her arms. Celene stared at her stunned. "If you actually mean it, then you can't" she turned her back on Celene and returned to her family.
"You really have no reason to trust me." Celene pointed out.
"I don't, but I do trust Marten." Lux said flatly.
Celene reexamined her. It looked as if Lux was beginning calm down. Celene felt relieved, she just wanted to run away from what she was and pretend she was normal for a bit. Lux appeared to have gotten the explosion she was looking for and had begun to spin down from her rage. Just keep going, you don't have a choice.
Celene sighed softly. She was feeling a bit better, she noted as she pulled her cloak around herself. It was cold in the stone chamber and the cloak smelled softly of apples. Relaxing, she inhaled the scent and turned towards the pair of summoners.
The assassin lay on her bed. Her room was dimly lit, no light from outside entering past the bookcase she had pushed in front of her window. She idly flicked a throwing knife from her belt at her ceiling. The knife stuck in with a heavy thunk next to the others. Her hand fell to her belt, her fingers groping for another knife, finding none. She narrowed her eyes at the neat two-inch group of knives sticking from her ceiling. The assassin sat up, releasing the wave of red hair that was trapped under her back and reached for the knives. She nimbly removed each and flopped back onto her bed. She began to sharpen each before returning them neatly to her belt.
The process took several minutes. She reached the last knife, pausing. She turned it over in her hand. There was a small nick in the blade that set it apart from the others, though it didn't really affect its use. The knife was special. She ran her fingers over the left side of her face, tracing a thin line of scar tissue that went from roughly halfway up her forehead down through her eyebrow, over her eye, and down her cheek.
Katarina felt her eyes narrow. Turning the knife in her hand, she was bored, but it was too early to sleep. She growled to herself and rolled onto her side, still rolling the knife in her fingers.
I need to kill something, she thought. There was a sound and her green eyes turned to her door.
Tap, tap, tap, and then a pause. The tapping resumed.
"God dammit, fuck off!" She yelled, flinging the knife at the door. It embedded itself neatly with a heavy thunk. A loud squawk of surprise came from the other side. There was silence. Katarina sighed and closed her eyes.
Tap tap tap.
Her eyes snapped back open. She rolled onto her back, groaning.
"Fuck, fine!" She yelled at the door, pushing herself off her bed onto her feet. She stomped her way to the heavy door and pulled the knob. The door flew open to reveal a nightgown clad, glaring Katarina with a belt full of freshly sharpened throwing knives in one hand, the other white-knuckled around her brass doorknob. A large crow stood before her. The two glared at each other. Neither hid their dislike for the other. The crow cawed at her loudly and held out its leg. Two slips of paper were neatly tied around its ankle. The assassin groaned and knelt down. Her fingers fumbled at the string tying the notes to the bird's leg as she tackled a particularly annoying knot. The bird cawed at her to hurry up. She responded by slapping it on the side of the head. The crow squawked and lost its balance, flapping wildly as it got to its feet again. Katarina glared at it.
"Hold still, you fucking pigeon," she said through gritted teeth, pulling the paper free. The crow took flight the instant she was finished. It flew down the hall and out of sight. She followed it with her eyes before returning to her room and slamming the door. She unrolled the first slip of paper.
"I've been told there will be a practice match today, and I thought you would jump at the chance to fight without summoners bothering you. I already put your name in." She felt a smile cross her lips. An excuse to release the day's frustration, and a very good one at that. She crumpled the note in her hand and flicked it into the growing pile in the corner of her room. She opened the second one.
"Move your bookshelf." Her smile vanished. The note got the same treatment as the last.
"Fuck you, Swain," she growled. She crossed her room in two strides, planting her hands on the bookshelf. She leaned in and twisted it around, so the shelves were now facing the window. She felt herself snicker at what she had done. In the process, Katarina was blasted by the chill wind coming over the mountains. The assassin shivered, her skin becoming covered in goosebumps. As much as she wanted to be lazy, the lure of possible combat was too much. Katarina turned her head to the limp pile of leather armor and daggers in the corner. With a sigh, she surrendered, and leaned in. The assassin lazily stepped out of her nightgown, pulled the armor up off the floor by the shoulders, and shook it, removing the crumpled pieces of paper from it, before tossing it on her bed. She leaned in again, grabbing the tight leather chaps. With the some effort she pulled them on and they squeezed her thighs tightly, keeping any excess flesh out of the way, allowing the freest movement possible. Finally Katarina strapped the belt covered in knives around her hips, letting it hang instead of fully tightening it. Katarina lifted the chest piece from her bed and wrapped it around her stomach backwards. She did the clasps and twisted it around her torso so it faced the right way before pulling it up. Katarina bit her lip as she pushed her breasts into the front of the leather chest piece. Katarina wiggled the armor slightly until it was comfortable, then did the strap over the top of her cleavage that prevented her breasts from simply falling out, should she be upside-down. She frowned. Why armorers insisted on showing cleavage was beyond her.
Pigs, she thought. Katarina really hated having breasts in the first place. With a scowl she pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she swung the small jacket around her shoulders. As she bent down to the remaining steel in the pile her scowl began to morph into a grin as a small twinge of excitement appeared. She threw the pile onto her bed and sitting next to it -she took two long cutlasses and seated them on her hips before grabbing the other two and seating them crossed on her back. She pulled her hair out of the way, sliding more throwing knives into the holsters on her thighs and upper arms.
Katarina, a voice rang up in the back of her head.
"What the fuck do you want?" She said aloud, pulling a brush from her dresser drawer and plunging the bristles into the mass of red.
"The draft has finished. We have requested that you serve as our team's middle lane champion." She pulled the brush through her three feet worth of hair. She didn't need to answer.
"What time?" She was smiling.
"Sooner rather than later. We are still doing legis-" The summoner was cut off as she severed the link. She was excited. It had been a few days since she had been summoned, and that match was less then spectacular, as her summoner was inexperienced. Her smile vanished as she hit a tangle. Gritting her teeth, she forced the brush through it. She returned to her thoughts. A practice match though- there was a new champion involved. She felt the slightest bit intrigued. The match was going to be much better. She finished with her hair and tossed the brush into the corner with all the paper. Leaning forward, she pulled a pair of heavy leather combat boots from under her bed, the cleats digging into the wooden floor. They were easily the heaviest piece of equipment she was wearing. She pulled them on, putting her weight into the straps. She slid a boot knife into each, pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves, then stood. Her fingers wrapped around her doorknob and pulled it open, her foot cocked back, ready to introduce itself to any annoying crows that may be waiting. No crows, she stepped from her door and marched down the hall, towards the summoning chambers. Practice match meant there was somebody new, and the assassin was intent on meeting this new champion to see what she could learn- a habit that had been pushed onto her after the introduction of Graves, the Outlaw.
Katarina rounded the final corner between her and her destination. A line of simple wooden doors stood on the left side of the hall. New champions were always shown the summoning chambers before their practice match. It was done when she first joined the League of Legends. The only exception to this was if the champion was unreasonably dangerous. Some of the chambers were sealed off and used to house such champions. The easternmost chamber directly to her left was a good example. The chamber door had two boards nailed to it in a cross. Katarina leaned against the boarded door, sliding down against it until she was sitting. She was not there for long. A door midway down the hall opened. Out ducked Garen, an uncomfortable-looking Lux and two people the assassin recognized from the many Noxian military meetings she was forced to attend as two of the elder Crownguards.
Katarina was surprised Swain hadn't known of their coming, though it was possible he did and neglected to tell her or simply didn't care if she knew. Two summoners left a moment after- Elder Summoner Marten and High Summoner Beyal. Garen and Luxanna spotted the assassin that lurked at the end of the hall as they approached. The Might of Demacia motioned for the Crownguards to stay behind him and Lux and continued forward towards Katarina. She snickered to herself, almost insulted by the reaction. For her to attempt anything would be foolish. Finally, what the assassin was waiting for. A figure she hadn't seen before left the chamber. The League's new champion was a small Ionian girl, all but her head and her feet covered by a brown traveling cloak. Elder Summoner Marten turned his head and spoke to her, then pointed towards the redhead at the end of the hallway. The Ionian looked up at Katarina, a small smile appearing on her face as she advanced. The hair on the back of Katarina's neck stood up- she seemed so familiar! The assassin stared hard at the approaching Ionian, wracking her brain for where they had met before.
Garen and his overly guarded kin reached the entrance to the Demacian hallway. The two eyed each other for a moment before the assassin's green eyes fell to Lux. Something about her was wrong. The Sinister Blade raised an eyebrow as she noticed the girl wasn't smiling. Her face was impassive. For Lux, such a lack of expression meant something. Her eyes turned again to the League's new summoner-flanked introduction.
Even if she did not remember who this person was, she could already tell they would not get along. The newcomer stopped short of the Neutral Champion quarters.
"Hello, Katarina," she said softly. Katarina blinked in surprise. The newcomer extended a small hand through her cloak. The assassin's eyes fell to her hand, and then traveled their way up the arm, over the shoulder, and to the eyes of the newcomer. They were blue, very odd for an Ionian. Something in them Katarina found very distasteful, like looking down a bottomless pit. Katarina's brain clicked. The blurred memory of her fight in the woods. The faint glow of the blue eyes, the thin Ionian accent and pitched voice. Katarina felt her eye twitch.
"You." Katarina snarled softly.
"Actually my name is Celene," she said giving something between a bow and nod as she retracted her hand into the cloak. Her eyes locked with the Assassins. -gaze sharpening into something threatening "But yes –Me; Hello!"
"You two know each other?" Summoner Beyal asked.
"Old friends. I've been trying to get my hands on her for -what are you now, twenty six?," Celene answered. Katarina was instantly on her feet. The metal scrape of a blade being drawn was the only sound. Celene didn't move as the sharp tip of a cutlass pressed against her throat. Both summoners jumped back in surprise. Katarina stood straight, holding the blade at arm's length, downward. Celene looked her square in the eyes, her smile sharping.
"We were about to go eat." The assassin could feel her throat, moving through the thin blade as she formed the words. "Would you like to join us?" She could not help but raise an eyebrow. She either completely did not intimidate this girl, or she was skillfully making the biggest bluff of her life. The idea made her even angrier. She lifted the cutlass and swung it down at the girl's neck, stepping into swing and exhaling through her nose. She stopped the weapon just as it met flesh, not leaving a scratch. The girl remained apathetic and still, not a flicker of doubt in her blue gaze.
"No?" She blinked as though nothing was out of place, shifting her weight impatiently to one foot.
"Fuck you..." Katarina's voice was as dangerous as she could make it, leaning in slightly to emphasize the words. "Next time I see you, I'm going to gut you like a fish." She sheathed the weapon back on her hip and stood back at her full five foot ten inches.
The Ionian shrugged lazily. "Suit yourself," Celene said and turned. Her back was to the assassin. Both summoners stood with their mouths hanging open as wide as a wizard's sleeve. Eyes flicked between the two champions as Celene, with some effort, pushed the doors to the Neutral Champions hall open and slipped between them. The summoners, not sure what to do and not wanting to be near the assassin now, hurried after her.
The assassin was left alone. She wasn't sure how to comprehend how the newcomer had acted. She turned the event over in her head as she stomped back to her room. She could tell Katarina wasn't going to harm her before Katarina herself could, not likely, but she would hardly be surprised given where she was, or she was totally not afraid to die. She wracked her brain again. Her hand fell on the nicked throwing knife in her belt and she felt the anger flare up in her chest. She put her other hand on her face, feeling the long, thin scar with her fingertips. She noted how it stopped at her eye, then resumed at her cheek this woman was careful not put her eye out. She touched the small gap in her eyebrow that it left. She had refused medical treatment for it that day. It was a reminder of what happened when she failed. She had failed just now, as the woman had again made her look like a fool. She reached the Noxian doors, but they opened before her fingers touched them. She halted. There, in her way, stood the absolute last person on the planet she wanted to see. He swung to doors wide open with ease.
"My lady... Welcome to the Hall of Draven!" The man bowed so low his hanging mustache touched his boots. He motioned with his hand, twirling his fingers to add to the effect. Katarina felt her boot collide with the man's stomach before she could stop herself. He grunted and brought his hands to cover his gut. Katarina pushed aside him, making him stumble slightly and walked as quickly as she could without breaking into a run back to her room.
"Don't worry," came a rasping voice from behind her. "All the ladies want to kick it with Draven!" It took all of her willpower to stop herself from impaling the man. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this angry. Her throat was beginning to hurt as she reached her door. Practically kicking it open, she rushed inside. She grabbed the nearest object to her- a half-sized mirror she was too lazy to hang, so it simply lay against her wall- and hurled it with a scream. It left her room through open door and shattered against the other wall with a crash. She was breathing hard, her hands embedded in her crimson hair, pulling hard enough for her body to protest in pain. Tears began to stream down her face, the wetness on her cheeks making her even angrier. She screamed again, pulling her cutlass from her hip and hurling the sheathed weapon as hard as she could at the broken mirror. It missed, striking the wall and clattering to the ground. More tears streamed down her cheeks. She stood there in silence, her hands in her hair. Her lip began trembling. She bit down hard to still it. She couldn't let herself cry. Crying was something Demacians, the weak, and the dying did. She was working herself up. She needed to kill something, someone. It didn't matter who anymore.
"Katarina?" A voice came from her doorway, laden with worry. It was Summoner Beyal, a shorter, stocky man in his late teens with short hair. He was one of the few summoners Katarina tolerated. He was amusing and a very good pilot with her. They had shared meals in the past, though nothing of the sort recently.
He knocked on her open door before stepping over broken glass into her doorway. She surrendered, pulling her head back by her hair, screaming again. I must look pathetic, she thought to herself. Katarina at that moment broke in front of the summoner. She collapsed onto her knees and turned her eyes away from the summoner. He flinched and checked to see if anyone else was nearby, knowing that approaching her might be life threatening. He knew her well enough to know that offering help might make her even angrier, but she had spiraled from a composed and trained killer to an absolute wreck in a matter of minutes. He backed up, not turning his back on her. Katarina heard a scraping and looked up. Her vision was blurry. Beyal was picking up the broken glass and placing it in the mirror's frame. He picked up the cutlass and slid the mirror's frame back into her room with his foot. Entering calmly, her walked the curve and her wall and placed the weapon on her side table and turned to leave.
"I won't tell anyone. If I do you can skin me." He smiled and closed the door. Katarina stared at the door for a long time. The tears had stopped, but she tasted blood.
Blood... she thought, letting go of her lip with her teeth, so more of it leaked into her mouth. She honestly couldn't tell which had made her angrier. She did know however, exactly what would make her feel better. She reached for cutlass and put it on her lap, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and gripping her elbows. She stared straight forward and waited.
