CHAPTER 2:3

"Damn!"

Jayce irritably threw away the piece of paper he was making a sketch on and sighed heavily. "Things just don't work out as they should today."

He had been sitting up all night and day during these last couple of weeks, only surviving on high-caffeine drinks, take-away food and some naps now and then. Jayce was still keeping in shape regularly with occasional jogging trips and other exercises, but other than that, the handsome inventor had barely seen the skies of Valoran. Claire had still not been repaired since he was waiting for a new processor from a special store in Piltover Industrial, at the ground level of the modern city-state. It was actually refreshing for once to not hear the AI's endless stock of sarcastic comments, but he felt and knew, that he was more lonely than ever.

"Seems like I've gotten the habit of talking to myself," he muttered and scoffed. "I guess this is what a life in solitary does to people, especially those who are used to talk a lot."

I miss her, he thought and moodily threw a glance out of the window closest to him. A storm was hovering above Piltover and the hailing rain whipped against the thick glass. I miss her so much... but does she feel the same? No... probably not. That's not Cait.

"Enough of that." Jayce shook his head and rose from the chair. "Enough of the talking as well." I better get some air even at a day like this. A bar seems pleasant enough. And no more thoughts about her; she clearly stated her opinion thoroughly.

He saw the handle of an umbrella lying under a couple of magazines and bent down to pick it up. The front pages caught his attention; it was the latest Journal of Justice and the local governmental newspapers, both of them showing a similar picture on their spreads: two warriors; a large, bulky man accompanied by a slender but muscular woman with black hair. He immediately recognized the latter as Fiora Laurent, a world famous duelist with more wins than anyone could remember but herself and as famous for her gracious skill with the sword as with her tongue. Jayce had met her once in Demacia, at a party for the privileged where his mother had been invited, and she had completely knocked him over, literally. She spoke as if her words were sacred and that everyone should write them down to remember for eternity, not even once listening to what he had to say. Of course had he avoided meeting her ever since.

Poor man getting caught by that woman, thought Jayce, grimacing at the retrospect, but suddenly lightened up. On the picture, the man – Darius, it said – held Fiora's hand gently in his and his other arm was around her waist. The couple seemed slightly troubled, reading by their facial expressions, but nothing less was expected from them than that. Jayce had read the articles several times by now – not noticing the familiar face even once – and was surprised that something as corrupted like that could have happened right beneath the noses of the Council of Equity, the three most powerful summoners in the Institute of War and with that, whole Runeterra. Few journalists had been allowed to enter the Tribunal and its unique case and that only with the allowance to write nothing else but truth and facts. Swain had been killed and Noxus was in a riot, or in a civil war, the rich families and generals fighting each other for the title as the Grand General. The nation was shattered into chaos and every resource available from the Institute of War had been assigned to there, summoners and champions alike. The one most likely to rise to power was someone from the Du Couteau family, and eyes all over the world were focusing especially on Katarina Du Couteau, who presently was holding speeches in Demacia, and to find out more about her rumored relationship with the commander of the Dauntless Vanguard.

Jayce found it interesting to see how much the death of the Master Tactitian – as Jericho Swain was named as well – had changed the course of events in Runeterra. The impending war against Ionia had been permanently ceased and Noxus was trying to bind ties to the other city-states, even the nation's nemesis, Demacia. Things were starting to brighten, but Jayce knew that if Viktor would be let loose with the ancient artifact, it wouldn't take long before another international crisis occurred.

Something like this can easily lead to a third Rune War, one only needs the right resources and the motivation, he thought grimly and pulled out the black umbrella from beneath the stack of papers. And a war of such a scale could easily involve Piltover... and Caitlyn as well. Even though Viktor might perhaps not stand and make an army of his own to rule the world, he can and will most likely sell or use the box to his advantage. Maybe unite Zaun and Bilgewater?

Jayce clenched his hand around the wooden handle of the umbrella until his knuckles whitened. Anger filled every inch of his body whenever he thought about his former friend and life didn't get any easier when thinking about the Sheriff. He had honestly not been able to sleep because whenever he closed his eyes, he saw only her.

I'm going completely mad and it's not because I've poked half of my brain out during a surgery involving mutilating my body and mending it with synthetic parts. He sighed and pulled on a jacket appropriate for the weather and comfortable shoes. I really could use a drink; maybe with my luck, I'll even meet Cait.

Half an hour later, he entered the Cresent Moon, an upper-class nighttime bar and restaurant where he hoped not to meet anyone he knew. Not because he wanted to be alone, but he simply couldn't deal with the questions that would immediately be thrown at him. Jayce had actually hoped to meet Vi – who had the maybe strangest appetite all over Valoran that only this place seemed to be able to please – but her usual seat by the bar was empty. He approached a free bar stool next to a man clad in dark, his attire at first looking frighteningly similar to Viktor's, but Jayce soon saw the blonde thatch of hair, hidden beneath a gray cap, and exhaled.

Like Viktor would've decided to stay in Piltover for two weeks drinking and partying for his success, mused Jayce and chuckled. Some fool I am. Superstitious as well, I see.

"Something funny?"

It sounded threatening at first but the blonde man spun his chair towards him and gave him a crooked smile, holding a toothpick between two fair-skinned fingers. He was sitting nonchalantly, leaning backwards to the bar counter and put away the tiny, green plastic stick. His eyes were large and sharp blue, looking both curious and scornful at the same time, and he eyed Jayce from head to toe. "Name is Kayden." he then said and offered his hand.

Jayce took it, after a certain moment of hesitation, and replied politely. "Jayce, nice to meet you."

Kayden nodded. "Likewise," he said and paused, rubbing his chin before gingerly continuing. "You don't look too well; anything happened?"

Jayce settled down on the chair with a heavy sigh and waved for the bartender's attention while answering. "I guess it's a normal problem that occurs every once in a while," he said and ordered a drink.

"A woman I see," affirmed the stranger and smirked. He pulled his cap to the side and asked the bartender to give him another round as well. "You cheated on her? Saw her cheating on you? Bad sexlife?"

Jayce chuckled. "No, no, no." He placed the point of his umbrella to the floor and leaned its body against his chair. "Quite frankly, I would have preferred it to be like that; something I actually could see the logic in. But..."

He sighed again and the barman came back with their alcoholic beverages. One small glass of whiskey for him and a mug of beer for Kayden. The two of them thanked for the service and the blonde-haired man immediately made the gesture to pay when Jayce interrupted him.

"We don't pay after each drink," he explained kindly and the stranger raised a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah, employees trust the people to keep in check themselves and would never make it any more expensive just because you're a tourist."

"H-how honorable," stuttered Kayden surprised by his words. "Something like this could never work out from where I come from."

"Not honorable," corrected Jayce and sipped the drink. "Honest." He drank again. "So where do you come from?"

I can't recognize any special local accent from him and facts have already been stated that he's not from Piltover, thought Jayce and regarded the man thoroughly. He wears no special colours that can be connected to any of the nations and what I can see he seems quite human, so let's rule out the chance that he's from the Shadow Isles.

"Well," said the stranger and finished his ale in one sweep. "It's a long story but I guess you got time." When Jayce didn't answer, he continued. "I was left by my parents and taken in by an orphanage at six years of age. Things got quickly out of hand; I hated the place there."

The blonde clutched his glass and Jayce almost thought it would break by the tension of his fingers. "It's alright, you could skip the details if you'd like," he hurried to say and turned his chair towards the man. "We all have our dark periods."

"Things weren't just 'dark'", Kayden made quote signs in the air, "but sick. It was all boy-coed, you see and do you know what happens when old, perverted men are in a house full of youthful males?" His eyes grew dark and his jaw tightened. "It was all the government's fault, you see. They put sentenced criminals into orphanages and let them take care of us, just to save money and space in the overcrowded prisons."

"That's just..." Jayce paused, trying hard to find the appropriate word for the situation. "Atrocious. Utterly disgusting," he said and put away his drink. "I apologize."

Kayden suddenly lighted up and gave him a grin. "Nothing to be sorry about," he replied and shrugged as Jayce stared, his eyes widened in shock, at him. "It became a part of the past since long and I've moved on." He stifled a yawn and looked at the empty beer glasses in front of him. "I was soon saved by a woman and her husband, both of them rich, beautiful and famous, but unable to conceive a child."

A genuine smile slowly spread across his lips. "They took me in like I was their long lost family member and I spent the rest of my childhood in a bliss. Every day was an eventful day and the three of us lived happy... until the day my 'mother' became pregnant."

Jayce listened intensely to the story and ordered another round of beverages, both for him and for Kayden. He was beginning to feel better actually, hearing the life of a complete stranger, and started to forget about his own troubles. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but the way the blonde-haired man spoke was astonishingly captivating and he didn't want it to stop.

Kayden thanked politely for what must be his fifth glass of beer but didn't seem even the slightest disoriented by the alcohol. "So of course her husband was cheerful and the household – they had a lot of servants and other stuff – was abundant with joy during these nine months of anticipation. I was also dragged into the merry mood but something else gnawed on my mind."

"You see, I had heard something from the couple's bedroom two weeks before the statement was made official," he continued and gripped his drink, eyes focusing on something in the distance. "Sounds of love that, of course I was familiar with already, but the funny thing is that the master of the house was presently not at home, but away on a trip. It was not until it was too late when I understood that she had been fucking another man, which later on was revealed to be her butler."

"Anyways," said Kayden and soaked his lips. "I didn't want to ruin the family we were and would be, so I let the matter stay at hand, not telling anyone anything. Time passed and a baby girl was born at March, 16th, a chilly morning when the sun had just risen. I was about fourteen at the time and outside practicing my wooden sword on a dummy when I heard the scream. I came in just in time, sweaty and panicking if something would go wrong, when I saw the exhausted but delighted mother and her real child. Her husband was next to her and clutching her hand so tightly I thought her slender bones would break."

"Time passed again and that was when I made the probably biggest mistake of my life." Kayden chuckled softly and finally met Jayce's intrigued gaze. His voice wavered almost imperceptibly as he continued his tale but the Piltoveran noticed it immediately. "I became jealous at the attention the little baby girl they got – who they named Kayla, after me – and you know how foolish children that age might behave. I was scared that my new parents would stop loving me and give me away to an orphanage as my real parents had done, and decided to tell about the betrayal, also finding proof enough to show my honesty."

He huffed and crossed his legs. "I thought that if my 'father' heard the truth, he would banish Kayla and the butler – who was still fucking his wife – and tend to only me. He was a good man and had taught me everything I knew at the time about life. He was an outstanding teacher and also showed me how to use a sword." Kayden paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "How did I know he would go totally crazy and kill everyone in the household?"

Jayce suddenly felt the urge to interrupt. "Wait, what do you mean by kill?" he asked. "And you don't seem especially dead."

"Well, I survived," he answered and smirked. "Though I do have some scars from his rampage. You wanna have a look?"

Jayce shook his head and Kayden grinned. "Thought so," he said and lowered his voice. "You see, he became mad and went lose with his gun and shot his wife in the head twice, then her stomach and at last he spread her legs and shot her in every hole, so to speak. He also shot Kayla in the same way though not between her legs. Soon afterwards, he shot everyone else in the house, servants and pets alike, and at last, to end his grand finale, threw himself off the roof of the mansion and was pierced by a pitchfork. I guess he was hoping it would hit him in the heart so he could die immediately but it pierced through his stomach and let him bleed to death."

That... was a very dark turn of events, thought Jayce and shivered even though he did not feel cold. But he's speaking and describing so very well... how does he know it all? "I don't want to be rude but how exactly can you retell this in such detail?" wondered Jayce.

Kayden emptied his ale and rose up, flashing Jayce a sly smile, his countenance suddenly dry with any of his earlier emotions. "Your dear officer told me," he said and smiled crookedly, pointing at the other end of the restaurant. "After all, she was the one saving me from myself."

Jayce abruptly rose up from his bar stool and turned his gaze towards where Kayden was gesturing, terrified that Caitlyn would have been sitting there all the while without him noticing her, but found nothing but an old picture. He recognized it in an instant; it was after all he who had taken the photo when Caitlyn's private police station had finished its construction a couple of years ago. She stood with her colleagues and an overjoyed Vi, all of them smiling widely. Jayce could still remember everything that had happened during the day, how Vi "slipped" and fell on the red fabric tape that Caitlyn had been given the honor to cut to inaugurate the new building and the laughing afterwards, how they were to share a gigantic cupcake – Caitlyn's favorite thing to eat – and Vi – who surprisingly enough had made it herself – gave the first piece to Jayce, and how fortunate the night had developed as Caitlyn followed him home and stayed the whole night with him. It was truly one of his happiest memories with her.

"What are you talking about? She's not here," exclaimed Jayce irritably. "And you must be lying; how could you have met her before me?"

Nobody answered and Jayce whipped around, ready with another angry reply, but was met with nothingness.

He must've ran out, thought Jayce and sighed furiously. He didn't even pay for his drinks. Good going Jayce, getting taxed by probably a homeless drunkard.

Jayce motioned towards the bar and picked up his card. "How much?" he asked and the bartender hurried to him.

"That'll be seventy gold, sir," answered the barman.

"'Seventy'?" replied Jayce, slightly taken aback. "But what about my... eh, friend?"

The young, dark-haired bartender looked confused and looked about. "Who are you speaking of? I haven't seen anyone with you."

"A blonde asshole who's been drinking cheap beer," said Jayce and pulled back his hair. What the fuck is this? A joke? "My height, wearing dark clothes and a gray cap."

"Sir..." The barman took his card and pulled it through a scanner. "You've been alone all along."

A/N:

If you wanna know more about Darius and Fiora,feel free to read my other fanfic,Elegance in Death.

I'll follow my own course of events throughout my stories that imma post on FF and if you want to keep up

as good as possible,reading my earlier works could be helpful ^-^