Shen stared drowsily at the broken blade in his hands, toying with it aimlessly. Though he was exhausted, he found that he was unable to fall asleep. There were too many questions on his mind, too many memories that took all of his strength to repress. Besides, although he had trained for a life of hardships and difficult decisions, he found himself unaccustomed to the rigid, thin bed he was resting on. He knew that it was going to be a sleepless night.
He succumbed to the torment at last, closing his eyes and allowing his memories to run freely. Oddly enough, Shen found his tempestuous thoughts subside, receding into the cracks of his mind. But it was just the calm before the storm; the tide returned, fiercer than ever, and crashed over him like crackling fireworks.
Wait, fireworks?
Shen snapped open his eyes, just in time to see a rocket bursting into a dazzlingly display of crimson red and citrine yellow. Its sizzling remnants extinguished itself in a hazy smoke, which was quickly pierced by more of its kind. On the ground, the hustling between merchant and customer, the ringing of bells in the hands of children, and the random bouts of joyous laughter mirrored the commotion of explosions above them. He remembered now; this was the night when he and Akali performed The Tale of Reina.
"You were a wonderful spirit of evil," A voice teased. Shen, even before he turned around, knew who it belonged to.
"Akali," Shen found himself saying as he bowed to her. "You were a great Reina as well."
"Thank you," her white sash waved in the smoky wind as she returned the bow. Shen reached out at one of the flailing tails, and grasped it carefully in his hand. He felt its silky texture as he walked closer to Akali, tracing its path, stopping once his hand neared her waist.
She was silent, but the flickering flames of the red lanterns betrayed her. It danced on Akali's bright ruby robes, highlighted her rosy cheeks, and revealed to Shen her tensed body. Their eyes met, and a silent agreement passed between the two. Nodding ever so slightly, Shen opened the palm of his hand, taking one more step before curving his arm around Akali's waist. He then laid his hand on the knot tied tightly at the back of her robe, and gently, yet firmly, pulled on it.
The long, flowing sash furled onto the ground, curling itself around Akali's feet. Her robes, free of restraints, slowly loosened under the gentle breeze. Suddenly self-conscious of her current state, she turned her head to avoid Shen's gaze. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for something else she could focus on.
Shen, meanwhile, gently caressed her face, stroking her light, honey-colored skin, running a finger over her tawny, brown eyebrows. Her mouth twitched slightly in response, and her arms tensed further, but she continued to avoid his eyes. He then glided his finger over to her nape and drifted down her back, pressing harder as he neared her weak spot. A slight moan escaped from her when he finally reached it; she arched as electricity shot through her body, and quickly bit her lips in an attempt to stifle it. She then shut her eyes in apprehension. Grinning, Shen leaned in to close the gap, but was, suddenly, interrupted by Akali, who placed her hands on his chest.
"Are you afraid?" Shen asked at last, slightly vexed by Akali's attempts to thwart him.
"No," Akali stammered, her hands shaking as she pushed aside her robes. Shen gulped at the sudden exposure. "Just nervous…" her voice drifted off. Then, in a swift course of action, she pulled herself upright and brought her lips close to Shen's ear.
"We're being watched," she whispered, running her hand down Shen's breastplate before ducking down to the ground. As Shen drew his swords, Akali, with one sweeping motion, retied the sash around her robes. She gave the knot one final tug before revealing her blades.
A bespectacled man of short stature, with his shoulders hunched and his skin wrinkled, limped out of the quivering shadows. A single tuft of white hair on his otherwise bald head swayed to the night breeze, but his wizened face betrayed no emotion. His cane tapped along to his steps; it stopped within arm's reach of the two ninjas.
"Elder Hing," Shen identified, bowing deeply, silencing his astonishment with a mask of coldness. "How may I help you?"
The elder remained silent as he shakily handed him a letter. Akali handed Shen a look as he accepted the envelope.
"Deliver it to Zed," he spoke, his husky voice a contradiction to his frail body.
"It will be done."
Akali and Shen watched as the elder nodded in approval. He turned around at a leisurely pace, and the click-clack of wood against rock was heard again. Just before he disappeared, Elder Hing flashed a smile at them.
"If you want, you can continue what you were doing. No one will see you," he winked.
Shen sighed as the hazy, red-speckled festival grounds faded away into pale green walls. Disappointed, he ripped off his mask and tossed it away, revealing a prominent scar that ran down his left cheek. He was fortunate enough not to lose his eye; instead, a rather large section of his left eyebrow went missing. Before he had donned his mask, many assumed it to be the remnants of a fierce duel. In reality, it was the result of his first attempt at shaving.
I'm still rather handsome, Shen smugly thought as he ran his hand up his shaven head. Besides, the scar gives me street cred as well.
As if that really matters, he chuckled at himself.
"Trouble falling asleep?" A warm, tender voice stole his attention.
"Akali," Shen mouthed quietly to himself before realizing his mistake. "Syndra?"
The levitating figure by the door whirled gently in the air before landing gracefully on her feet, her opalescent night gown gently creasing against her body. She took a few delicate steps toward him, stopping just at the tip of the bed.
"I'm guessing that you have questions to ask," Syndra said as she leaned forward slightly, her face darkened with concern. A few strands of hair trickled down her face.
"Uh…" Shen croaked, unable to avoid the light scent of strawberries emanating from her hair. Those are pretty big, he nervously thought, his eyes anxiously darting between Syndra and his mask. Even larger than Akali's… He couldn't help but notice how well the moonlight accentuated her figure, either.
As The Eye of Twilight, you are failing your job right now! He warned himself. Bad decision! Bad decision!
She feigned innocence, ignoring Shen's hasty glances at her. Instead, Syndra sat down on the bed, tilted her head slightly, and focused on his savage scar. She slowly extended a hand, which faltered just as she was about to touch his face. When Shen remained unresponsive, Syndra leaned forward a bit more and caressed his scar.
"You can't save everyone," she whispered, lightly tracing the wound.
She thinks I can't fall asleep because of all the botched operations and dead people I've seen! Shen panicked internally. I can't imagine how she'll react if I told her what really was troubling me…
Shen turned his head and swatted her away. Syndra hastily retracted her hand, her face contorted in shock.
"Don't tell me what I can't do," he grumbled, uncertain if he was convincing enough.
Dejected, Syndra bowed her head, allowing her hair to conceal her face. A sudden qualm then overcame Shen, realizing remorsefully that he had hurt someone again. His hands hovered clumsily over Syndra's shoulders, but he ultimately decided against it. Rather, his mouth gaped awkwardly open for a while as he struggled to say something.
"Sorry," Shen finally uttered. "There's been a lot of things on my mind lately."
I'm not exactly lying, Shen admitted.
He tentatively glanced at Syndra, but, upon realizing that he was lowering his gaze, quickly averted to his broken sword.
"So, uhm," he coughed. "How'd you and Zed get together?"
Syndra finally stirred. She softly brushed aside her silvery hair, revealing glistening eyes wet with tears and a rather flustered face. As she rubbed her eyes, she, with her skin lightly glowing under the pale moonlight, appeared almost like a cherub, innocent and virtuous. Nonetheless, her lips curved into a mischievous smile, and she curled closer to him.
"Look at me," she teased, choking slightly. "I'm mesmerizing, aren't I?"
Shen gulped as she ran a finger through her silky hair.
"Who wouldn't fall in love with me?" Syndra giggled, turning to lie on her side. Once her finger reached the tip of her hair, she brought her hand to her chest, gently tracing the contours of her body as she did so. Slowly, she unfastened a button, revealing a well-defined set of collarbones. Syndra then placed her hand on her waist, which curved as it glided over her hips. Sensing a feral reaction from Shen, Syndra, her eyes twinkling, brought her left leg closer to her chest and stroked its outline as well.
"Good point," Shen stuttered, desperately trying to keep his cool.
In response, Syndra sat upright and dragged her legs in, curling her arms around them and pouting like a child.
"But Zed's always busy," she whispered, her voice honeyed and breathy.
"O-oh," Shen stammered, unsure of how to reply.
A honeyed voice…
Syndra froze in place, hesitant about what to do next as well. Shen stared back at her, his mind still trying to make sense of the spectacle that just happened.
"Um," she meekly murmured after a while. "If you really can't sleep, there's some milk downstairs."
Shen frowned. What does milk have to do with sleep?
Syndra's face, however, lit up upon noticing his reaction.
"When I find myself unable to sleep, I heat some milk, and then drink it while it's simmering hot. It's great!"
"If it doesn't trouble you, I would like to try your recommendation."
"That sounds good. Wait here, I'll get a glass for you."
Shen watched, befuddled, as the mage floated graciously out of the room.
The blazing sunlight revealed a plain room, adorned with only a scroll and a simple bed. Lying on the latter was Shen, who, though awake, was still in a daze. Rubbing his eyes, he attempted to recall what happened last night. Hazy words and images suddenly floated around in his mind, but when he reached out for them, they darted just out of his grasp. Exasperated, he physically shooed them away with his hands and collapsed back on the bed. It was then did he, out of the corner of his eyes, notice a glass cup on the floor, with some rather conspicuous, milky white stains on its rim.
"I hope that was the only source of white," Shen grumbled, smacking his lips bitterly.
"Shen!" A cheerful, bubbly voice called out to him. "Breakfast is ready, hurry up and join us!"
"Yeah!" A deeper voice joined in, also cheerful but strained, as if the speaker was being forced to do so. "Come on!"
"I'm coming!" Shen yelled at the top of his lungs, grinning slightly to himself.
He pulled off his blanket and donned his light-blue armor, strapping its various parts tightly before attaching the pauldrons. He was about to sling on his mask when, upon thinking twice, instead tucked it into his breastplate. Shen then peered into his broken sword, flashing his teeth and praising himself for his good looks. It was true that he could use a new outfit, seeing as how his current armor was well-worn and ragged. However, it was also very durable. Besides, he was sure his journey would bring him to mainland Ionia, so he could pick up some new gear there. Smiling one more time, he checked to make sure that the remaining, functional blade was securely attached before heading down to the dining hall.
"Good looks!" Zed faked a smile upon seeing Shen. The latter raised his eyebrows at Syndra, who only returned his look with a slight shrug. Once again, he noticed that her eyes glinted mischievously.
"Thank you," the latter curtly replied, bowing slightly as he sat down on a chair.
"As I know it," Zed continued to mock him, brushing specks of dust off of his crimson robe, "The Eye of Twilight is supposed to exercise judgment untainted by prejudice."
"Yes," Shen concurred, unsure of what Zed was getting at.
"How can it be," he crossed his legs on the table as he smugly asked, "That your taste in clothing is so terrible, then?"
Zed tilted his head sideways and jutted his chin forward, his eyes pressing Shen on to answer. Syndra, sitting adjacent to Zed, covered her mouth and tried to stifle her laughter.
"Function over form," Shen sighed through clenched teeth, recalling a certain revolutionary. In frustration, he slammed the table hard with both of his palms, but admitted that the joke, indeed, was quite clever.
Zed bared his teeth. "You're rather susceptible to jokes, aren't you?"
Two can play at this game, Shen smirked internally.
"I lost much of my humor when you killed my father," Shen nonchalantly retorted. "Besides, it just so happened that you ended his life before the lesson on comedy."
Zed glared at his comment. Goaded on by Shen's taunting face, he drew a small dagger from his belt and impaled the table with it.
"I understand," Shen continued obliviously, adding fuel to the fire, "That you've always wanted a father figure in your life, especially since you were, oops," he sarcastically pretended to correct himself, "Since you are an orphan! When he wasn't good enough for you, however, you murdered him, and appointed me as your father."
Syndra scowled at Shen before placing a gentle hand on Zed's back. He rejected her, however, and flicked her hand away.
When I first entered the Institute of War, I concluded that I should be the only one who makes decisions. I still stand by my opinion. Shen cradled his face within his palms as a black-purple aura swirled around Syndra.
"You dare deny me?" Syndra's voice, now a pandemonium of the full spectrum of her personalities, demanded her boyfriend's answer.
Zed's face, which was previously twisted with indignation and fury, now shivered in apprehension.
"Who do you think you are," Syndra threatened, the chaos that was her voice sharpening into a single point of sheer coldness, "To refuse the aid of The Dark Sovereign?"
Zed stammered, unable to come up with an excuse. Hoping that Shen would help him, Zed quickly looked over to him as a last resort. Instead, Shen folded his arms and closed his eyes. As butterflies churned in his stomach, Zed closed his own eyes and awaited his punishment.
"I shall have to teach you obedience again," Syndra condemned him, "So I will go top tonight!"
Shen noticed an inkling of warmth in her speech, and decided then to open his eyes. He saw Syndra, fingers interlocked, her right cheek resting against the back of her palms, leaning sideways into her arms. She looked longingly at Zed, but, beyond her affectionate gaze, there was uncharacteristic iciness as well.
How many sides of Syndra will I see before I die? Shen wondered to himself.
He gave Zed and Syndra a moment of silence before clearing his throat.
"So it turns out," Shen explained amusingly as he flipped through the morning paper, "That the mystery we talked about yesterday was just a rather eccentric summoner's attempt to convert mana into energy."
Zed sighed in relief, but quickly perked his face up again.
"How in the world does that work? And what do you mean by energy?"
Shen raised two fingers.
"I don't know," he answered, folding down his middle finger. "By energy I mean stamina, endurance, ATP, and mitochondria." Shen folded his index finger as he listed random scientific jargon.
"Anyways," Shen continued, ignoring Zed's confused face. He wasn't in the mood to clarify. "The summoner lifted her spell, so all mages should be reverting back to normal."
Syndra's skeptical face betrayed her cheerful clapping. Zed, unable to read both sides of her, smiled in accordance.
"I'm guessing we don't have to go on some 'save the world' journey now?" Zed asked between his grin.
Shen adjusted his wrist guards, unsure of how to phrase his next speech delicately. Then again, he was the Eye of Twilight; such uncomfortable quandaries were his specialty. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath before speaking again. He had observed the fickle nature of his two companions, and he wasn't willing to ride another emotional roller-coaster.
"There wasn't a journey meant for you in the first place," Shen said tentatively, pausing to observe Zed's reaction. When the latter gave him a blank stare, he continued. "I came here to give you this."
Shen reached into his breastplate and pulled out a well-worn letter. Zed reached for it, eyeing him cynically as he ripped open the envelope. As he pored over the document, his expression continued to darken. Upon nearing the last words, Zed tossed the document against the table and folded his arms in disbelief.
"Asinine," He hissed. "Absolutely asinine."
"What about it?" Syndra asked, her eyes widened in curiosity. She picked up the letter and began reading it for herself.
"This Elder Hing wants me to go back to Ionia," Zed explained, scoffing at the proposition. "I murder almost all of the Kinkou Order, and now the old man wants me back for tea time."
Shen's face twitched in irritation, exasperated at the fact that Zed was treating the whole massacre with unconcern. Does he not feel any remorse? He asked himself, barely containing his rage.
"Well," Syndra joked darkly, "This is one step closer to my goal of killing all the elders. I'm invited too," she added, pointing to the end of the letter. "It's almost as if they know we're together."
"Have you forgotten? Master Yi and Wukong tried to stop us that night. Then you went berserk mode, and I needed the combined effort of Karma, Thresh, and Ahri to bring you back. You also killed that elder who tried to control you…" Zed drifted on.
"Ah, right," Syndra recalled as she refolded the piece of paper. "My bad."
"Did you know about the contents in this letter?" Zed asked Shen, pointing to the piece of paper in Syndra's hand.
He shook his head in denial. "It is not my job to invade the privacy of others."
But I did read it.
"Well, Mister Decision Maker, what do you propose we do now?"
"Attend the conference," Shen tersely replied. "I see no other solution."
Zed kicked back his seat and angrily rose up.
"This is a ploy. I can smell it," he raved, storming back and forth across the dining hall. "This is obviously a trap, no way am I going."
"You fear a couple of old men," Shen questioned, "Yet you didn't hesitate to kill my father?"
"That's different," Zed spat as he pulled the knife out of the table and stabbed it in again.
"You didn't just kill him," Shen continued serenely. "You betrayed him, and 200 years of order, just so you could finally beat me in a duel."
Unable to respond, Zed grunted in frustration. He turned away from Shen and ran his hands through his hair in agitation.
"We all have darkness that pursues us," Shen recalled Akali's speech after the Festival of Fire, "But, like Reina, we must confront the darkness within our spirits. We must be stronger than that which torments us."
Shen extended a hand, placing it on Zed's shoulder.
"Out of any darkness comes the grandest of light."
Zed stubbornly held his stance, refusing to yield. Shen tightened his grip, enough to dig through his robe, but light enough not to cause discomfort. He then gently pulled in, nudging Zed around to face him. Shen reached for his helmet and took it off, revealing a face that, excluding the lush, brown hair on his head, looked very similar to Shen's. There was even a scar running down his left cheek.
"It's just a tale," Zed's voice drifted off, uncertain and weak.
"But there is evil in your heart," Shen said, realizing afterwards that it was a rather stupid comment. "Regardless, it's not your purpose to seek revenge on me, much less the rest of Ionia," he amended. "If anything, I should be chasing you with a sword. I'm not."
"If you two get any closer, you'd border on a yaoi fanfic," Syndra joked, leaning deeply into her chair. "Shen is right, however. I do think it's time for us to grow up and look beyond the past," she commented, sitting upright again.
"I cannot forgive you for what you have done," Shen admitted. "But, like Syndra said, it's time to move on. Besides, as Ionians, we have to be accepting of each other, right?"
Zed pondered for a moment. He nodded in agreement.
"Wonderful," Shen patted his back.
Authors Note
For the readers that are still currently confused about the characters mentioned in the story, fear not; as the tale progresses, more information will be revealed. Consider this to be a budding rose; how can the observer tell what color it will be before it has even fully developed?