When Garen and Riven woke up, they continued along their original path to try to get Garen a new sword. They walked for awhile, not having a whole lot to say to each other, other than an occasional note to not trip on a large boulder in the path, to listen for wild animals, or a simple thank you for holding a branch out of the way. They seemed to both be fairly well coordinated in their hike and walked without stumbling or bumping into one another. While both were a part of their own exile, neither was very accustomed to traveling on their own having spent so long in an army. Not often were soldiers selected for individual work because it would often lead to freelancers and rouges if they were allowed to obtain enough information or be given enough power. It was hard to get a soldier to remain loyal to its country or military when there were so many other factors to take over someone's conscience. However, seeing ally units doing the same thing, day in and day out, a lot of that type of stress is removed due to the environments created sociological stability.
They came to the edge of the forest and the terrain quickly shifted. One moment they were walking through trees and foliage and the next they strode along a dry ground with many large rocky structures surrounding them. Riven continued to lead the way only pausing every so often to take another chance to scan the surroundings. She clearly had not been out of the forest in quite some time, but her memories dug into her so deeply that she was not going to be able to completely forget what she was looking for.
Garen continued to follow her and allowed his thoughts to wander. He thought back to Lux and the note that he had left her, wondering whether or not she would know exactly what to make of it. He had traveled quite a bit in the time since he had left the League and did not know where all he would end up. Currently, he trudged along the wastelandish grounds of Ionia; east of the League, just as he hinted at in his note; but this was also across the ocean. He hoped she did not assume that he was in Noxus, and sent a search party for him. He knew Lux to be smart enough not to attempt to create an upheaval based upon a thought or idea: she would think it through thoroughly before even attempting to mention it to someone.
There was a young champion in the League by the name of Ezreal who shared the characteristic of deep thought and an exploratory nature with her. The two spent a decent amount of time together, sharing ideas and concepts; it was near impossible to get their attention through any means outside of one of them being summoned to the Fields of Justice. Garen grinned at the thought; he had remembered to take that into consideration before he left the Institute of War. Had he not taken preventive action, he could have very easily been found simply by being summoned. He was glad that he had made it to Ionia; being far enough away that it was unlikely he would see anyone who would recognize him. None of the Ionian champions bothered to live in Ionia anymore, being so far away and war torn from the Noxian invasions. Most Ionian champions resided in the rooms granted to them inside of the Institute of War. Essentially, the island continent was a perfect place for Garen to remain for the time being.
Riven finally came upon what she had been looking for: on the ground lay a moderately sized rock with fragments of metal scattered all around it. There was a massive chunk missing from the rock and it emitted a glow, almost as if a soul remained around the rock having been released from the metal of the sword from its impact, but was unwilling to go anywhere else on its own. Riven walked around and collected the largest parts of the shattered sword and held them under her free arm. The pieces and the letters inscribed into them glowed a light green, while the metal itself was a shiny silvery color, gently stained with blood of its fallen enemies.
"We will need a forge," Riven said to Garen. "Heat, a hammer of some sort, and a place to press the metal." The man nodded.
"We can go back into the forest and find an old stump and wet it. It's unlikely to catch fire while wet and the sword would be finished long before it had melted to the ground from the heat of the sword," he replied.
"Hopefully the remnants of my blade are enough to press the pieces into a new sword."
"I am sure it will suffice," he told her reassuringly. He knew that they needed some very hot flames and that an open pit fire would not be enough to create them. The two thought about it for some time. Garen started to walk around the area in search of something they could use. "Maybe we ought to just take things to somewhere that we know we can use a forge. Is there a town around? Do you have any idea?"
"No idea at all," she replied while shaking her head. "I'm not very familiar with much outside of that forest and this area that we are in now." Garen nodded to say he that he understood and walked back towards Riven who was still holding the pieces of her fragmented sword in her hand. He gently took the pieces from her and slid them down his back, in between his shirt and coat. He pulled his coat strings tight to make sure that they were secured.
"We ought to go look then," he told her. He held his hand down to help her up since she had been sitting down while pondering their options. "I think that forging a sword with a broken blade and a wet tree stump is not as reliable as it may seem to be at first thought." Hearing himself say it out loud, it did sound like a ridiculous idea. He helped her to her feet and they were about to begin wandering to find a town, not in ruins from the Noxian invasion, and to find a usable forge, when a shadowy figure stood in their path. It was quite peculiar, seeing as it was midday, to see a shadowy figure standing in the open. Garen rubbed his eyes as if they were deceiving him.
"LOOK OUT!" Riven yelled as a shuriken came flying in his direction. He rolled sideways and stood up to see the blackened outline of a man standing in front of him still. How he had managed to stay in front of him during his roll, while throwing a shuriken, Garen was unsure. He did not need time to ponder the concept any further because the figure shifted, without walking or even moving his feet, to place himself directly in front of Garen. He immediately punched the man in the jaw, just to watch his fist phase through him as if he was punching an illusion. However, Riven had seen it too; it was no figment of his imagination.
The shadow laughed at him in a dull monotone voice before thrusting its arm at Garen. It wore a blade extending from the lower portion of its arm that allowed it to be wielded like a weapon but keep its hands free; reminiscent of a tool an assassin would use. Garen had seen this style once before, and it was Talon who fought with it. But this figure was much larger than Talon and had no expression and no features. It was literally a shadow.
The blade cut the side of Garen's arm as he shifted to keep it from penetrating his ribcage. This was exactly what he had feared; the shadow could not be harmed but was capable of injuring him. Perhaps it could choose when to be tangible and when not to be, he thought. Garen went off of this idea and thrust forward in a football player's stance; preparing to either knock the figure down or run straight through it. At first the shadow attempted to use this opportunity to throw Garen to the ground, but quickly realized that it was losing the wrestling match. It gave in right before it was about to lose balance and allowed Garen to sprint straight through it.
By this point in time Riven had managed to come to his side to help him with the spectral opponent. The two stood side by side looking at the figure before them and both at a complete loss for words to describe it. The shadow did not hesitate as it shifted to stand besides Garen in a teleporting like fashion. He stood guard, preparing for it to attack. The figured thrust its bladed arm towards Garen's gut and he grabbed a hold of its arm to hold it way from his flesh. Riven grabbed the back of Garen shoulders and vaulted herself over him, as if she were playing leap frog, and landed on with one foot on Garen's arm and the other on the shadow's. She took her blade and swung wildly at the shadow. At first it ducked and shifted in attempt to dodge, but started taking the hits as the warrior held its arm hostage by standing on it. Garen flexed his arm to provide proper support for his ally as she stood suspended in air by their arms; Garen's still clenching the shadow's with every ounce of might he had in his body while desperately pleading that it backed off before its blade sank into his torso.
Clearly annoyed by the inability to progress its blade – and the shots to face it was taking by the wild woman – the being sank into the floor to create a solid black pool; just as a shadow should look like. Riven almost lost her balance as one of her footholds disappeared beneath her and she hopped back down to the ground. Garen held his hand out to Riven, asking for the sword. She handed it to him and he closed his eyes. He turned the blade upside down and held it in both of his hands. He stood like this for a moment, then crouched down to the ground and thrust the blade into the dirt. A moment later, a larger projection of Riven's blade appeared in midair above the shadow as it began emerging from the pool to retake its humanoid form it had used to battle. Garen's stance resembled a knight bowing before his king; one shin laid flat along the ground, bent at the knee, with the other leg's foot to the ground, bent at the knee right next to the sword stuck into the cracked soil. His arm rested upon the knee, with the hand on the hilt of the blade and his head bowed to touch his forehead to the back of his hand.
The large projection fell like a meteor into the shadow's skull and split the figure in two, vertically. It screamed a resonating sound of pain as it exploded into pieces, littering the ground with black specks. Garen stood up, and handed the sword back to Riven. She took it from him, mouth agape from what she had just seen. Garen could not help but grin: he kept forgetting that she has never seen him in combat before and had only heard stories of his battles. Unfortunately, he did not have the time to hesitate and explain.
"This place is not safe. We must go," Garen said to her after she had regained herself. She nodded in agreement and they set off back towards the forest. "We need to get off of this island. I came here to be isolated and at peace, but clearly I have been found; and by a party that I do not feel is very fond of me. Do you wish to travel with me, or will you stay here?" he asked Riven. She was silent for a spell as she thought but finally spoke up.
"I would be delighted to travel with you Garen. I have no home, no family, no army, no duty… I really don't have a whole lot to live for at the moment. But perhaps traveling for you will let me find something." He smiled at her as they walked through the forest.
"I'm sure you will at least find some adventure," he reassured her.
"Oh, I was meaning to ask you something. How did you even get here? The League is on the other side of the ocean. You couldn't have just walked here, as you had said initially."
"You are right Riven, I had to take a ship. A friend lent it to me".
"You can sail?" she asked him, doubtfully.
"More or less," he replied, obviously leaving out some details. The two walked with some slight conversation back and forth until they arrived at the edge of the forest, where it met with the ocean's waters. There was a small boat docked along the shore that was big enough for two or three people. It had a sail and oars propped against it.
"You took THAT? All the way from the continent!?" She seemed quite amazed.
"You would be surprised at a man's dedication to a cause," Garen told her. He unloaded the sacks of meat they had, left over from the previous night, and hopped into the boat. She hesitated before climbing in with him. He took the oars and thrust the small ship into the ocean's waters. The Demacian licked his finger and held it to the wind to determine its direction. "Perfect. It's blowing west right now. We can get back to the mainland in no time."
"Um, what exactly is no time to you, Garen?" she asked. Garen grinned and moved to the back of the boat. He opened a flap and exposed a hextech motor – a special device that ran a technology using liquefied mana – concealed in the compartment. He pulled it out and fixated it to the rear of the boat with its propeller sitting in the water, then pushed a button on top and it purred as the propeller began to cut through the water to push the boat forward. With the combination of rowing, the sail unfolded, and propeller in the water, the boat was moving forward at a very fast pace. He turned to Riven and grinned.
"No time, is no time at all," he replied. The boat cruised off into the ocean blue, leaving the Island of Ionia a small dot in the distance, as the continent of Valoran started to become much more prominent.