Garen, Riven, and Zac stood among a group of around forty Avarosan villagers deep inside the Freljord while the snow buffeted the sides of their faces with the force and consistence of rain; if rain were to fall horizontally. The Avarosans seemed to be staring at a target in preparation for an assault, but instead they were trying to refrain from quaking in fear of what unknown terror lie before them in the village they all knew and loved. Not a sound of one another was heard among the group due to any potentially audible movement being cancelled out by the ferocious sounds of ice coated gusts billowing their way. A voice boomed out that cracked the silence and seemed to be strong enough to overcome the weather's noise despite the old age of the man possessing it.

"We march," the elder stated loudly enough for all of the villagers to hear. Like clockwork, their horizon-fixed gazes diverted and re-converged on the elder. Some members of the crowd nodded while others simply allowed the acknowledgement of his statement to sit on their minds and never be expressed on their faces. Together, the unit set out into the frozen wastes.

As they marched, the members towards the outside of the group continually scanned their surroundings for potential Avarosans fleeing their homes, an army, or a threat of some sort making their way to another target. Much to their surprise, none of that was found during the entire journey between villages; yet somehow, many of them wished that they had: the security of eliminating the threat would place their minds at ease, and the sights they saw once the group had arrived at the next village was less than favorable.

Riven had to bow her head once they approached the wrecked village: her mind was instantaneously plagued with memories of innocent Ionian villagers being slaughtered as her company had marched through them during the Noxian invasion. The sights and outcome remained very similar in the sense that there were few survivors, and those who were alive did so only by hiding and retaining scars that they would never want to show again.

Zac acted upon instinct and instantly sought to the houses that had caught fire. Using his gelatinous body to encompass the flames, the lack of oxygen extinguished the fires with relative ease. He continued to move from house to house and put out fires as the villagers searched the now safe homes for survivors. Garen watched in amazement as the people of the tribe moved quickly on instinct without hesitation or fear. It was a quality that he possessed, but only after years of military training had beaten the ideology into his head. Yet these normal people seemed to be capable of possessing year's worth of training due to living in closeness to one another in a land that scarcely allowed water to seep through its surface. Garen turned to face the elder who seemed to be watching the scene unfold just as he was.

"Your people seem to have this under control. What would you like me to do? I was prepared to fight but clearly the threat has moved onward," he said. The elder nodded to voice comprehension.

"You and your female friend could scout the surrounding area and see if the attackers have moved on. It is unlikely that they are en route to our homes, seeing as we just finished walking from there and saw nothing. However, knowledge of who it was or where they are heading would be beneficial. Additionally, check for survivors who may have fled their homes in random directions during the chaos. This would benefit us greatly." Garen and Riven looked at one another as if asking how they wanted to go about their task. Riven decided to speak up first.

"I can head northwest if you want to head northeast. We just came from the south so that area should be covered well enough for now."

"Very well," Garen replied. "Off we go."

"Wait." Riven interjected. "You still don't have a weapon. What if you find danger?" Garen wanted to shrug off her concern by telling her that he had made it this far alright, but that would be an unfair statement due to the fact that Riven had assisted him in every battle he had fought without a weapon. The village elder placed a calming hand on his lower arm and extended his opposite hand. Within it, laid a dagger with a light green coating around it that reflected the surrounding embers of the village in its surface.

"Take this," the old man said. "It carries a harmful toxin that will impact the brain of the tainted foe. Within seconds, it will be infected. A few seconds later, its mind will become completely lost in a frenzying havoc. Give it a minute and the target will be deceased. It is not the most preferred method of safety, but against the terrors that lay inside of the Freljord, it may be your only defense. Use it wisely warrior." Garen took the dagger and returned it to a sheath the man handed him as well, and clipped it to his belt. He pulled his hood tightly overhead and set out to the northeast of the village. Meanwhile, Riven gripped her sword firmly, as she did whenever she was preparing to fight or enduring memories - both of which were occurring right then - and took off to the northwest. Zac continued to help put out fires, raise destroyed buildings to search through rubble, and guide the lost and afraid survivors back out of a state of shock and confusion through his gentle voice and direction towards loved ones, whether they were from the neighboring village or surviving victims of the assault.

After walking for awhile, Garen saw a darkened blob in the snow. Puzzled, he picked up his pace until he reached the figure. Upon getting close enough to see the entity, he determined that it was a body. Increasing to a sprint, Garen approached the person and called out in hopes of a response. He did not receive one. Once he arrived at the body, he knelt down to check their pulse. After he had rolled the person over, he saw that she had the face of a woman; battle worn and lightly scarred, but a woman nonetheless.

Pressing his index and middle finger to her neck, he noticed that the woman did indeed have a pulse; but it was fading out. Her body was shivering in the cold despite the armor and fur clothing around her. She had a very muscular figure, and was a sturdily built woman with the same silvery hair that Riven had, and was even worn at a short length just like hers. Garen had no idea how she got into the position that she was in, but he did know that she was not going to make it much longer in her current state. Being not too far from the ruined town, he assumed that she was a survivor seeking shelter. Strangely, she was found in the direction opposite of the town Garen had first visited, which did not make any sense if she was seeking shelter: unless she had been so disoriented that she could not tell which way the town was.

Garen decided that details were not important and he tried to figure out how he was going to pick the woman up and carry her. She was about as tall as him and, as he had noted, was fully suited in battle armor. He determined that carrying her like a baby was far out of question due to her height, so he opted to carry her over his shoulder like a wounded soldier.

Garen hoisted her up and began to trudge through the snow in the direction of the village that was not resting in ruins. He was not sure if the supplies needed to save her were available, but he intended to bring her to potential aid regardless. The walk was not an easy one to make even if he did not have an extra body to carry. The snow storm was continuing to rage and his face was constantly being buffeted by the icy wind and its precipitation.

As he slogged, he kept a look out for anyone else who may be lying out in the snow, but he did not see anything. It did not make much sense to see one person trying to flee on their own; however Garen was quite aware that not all people coped well with stress during dire situations.

After a long period of time, carried out by Garen's massive quantity of perseverance, he made it back to the village. Its elder met him on arrival and beckoned him to come inside of his home. Garen followed into the spare bedroom and gently laid the woman down. The elder looked over her to see if she bore any wounds. He started at her feet and scanned towards her head. Once he arrived at her face, he paused momentarily before turning to look at Garen.

"Be sure no one enters this room. If anyone were to see who she is, she may not live through the night," he said. Garen looked at him quizzically and received a slight bow in response. "Do you know who this is?" the man asked solemnly. Garen stared at her face for a brief moment to ensure that he was not familiar with her. Aside from her larger figure and sterner face, she bore a striking resemblance to Riven. Regardless, if Riven had a sister or mother way out in the Freljordian, Garen was unsure of it.

"No," Garen replied. "I am not familiar with her."

"Very well. She is Queen Sejuani, one of the three Freljordian sisters. She is the one who leads the raids on Avarosan camps." A calm silence followed as Garen pieced together the information in order to draw a conclusion.

"The camp to the north..." Garen began before the elder finished his thoughts.

"Was most likely invaded by this very woman."

"So why do you not put her on trial?" Garen asked. The elder smiled and shook his head lightly.

"She could not go on any sort of trial in this state of hypothermia. And besides, it is not the way of the Avarosan. We are taught to take in and provide shelter to all who need it. Taking them into custody is far from honoring that code." Garen looked at him blankly for a moment before nodding. He was not very accustomed to such a different style of rule, yet he did not have any strength to object; he was given the same hospitality and had he not come from a city with democratic rule, he would not be in the state of exile that he was.

Garen stepped back out of the Elder's home and stared off into the distance. He was not sure what to do next. The village had already provided what he needed in terms of clothing and gear, but he was not sure if he was welcome to stay with the Avarosans due to their state of turmoil. He decided that the best thing he could do was to wait on Riven to return. He had expected her to be back by then, seeing as he had already gone to search for survivors and come back with one. Looking around the village, Garen noticed that Zac was gone as well; his large green mass was quite hard to miss against the solid white backdrop of Freljord. He turned back and went inside of the house to wait. If Zac was already out searching for Riven, there was not much of a point in him going back out into the cold as well, and he needed to warm up for the time being. Perhaps he could get some information out of Sejuani if she was conscious enough to do so.

Meanwhile, Riven looked through the cloud of snow in the distance as she scanned for potential survivors. She seemed to come up empty handed no matter how hard she looked. It was possible that there was not a single person who had managed to leave the village, but the concept was both unlikely and unwelcome. She decided to venture out a little further, despite the fact that Garen was probably concerned for her by then. The worst thing she foresaw happening was an encounter with the Winter's Claw, and she was fairly confident in her ability to run away from them if they were to still be out in the snowy wastes; and if not, she was more confident in her ability to fight for her life.

After walking for a few minutes she saw a black figure's silhouette among the cold white backdrop. She had not expected to see any potential survivors standing upright, so she decided to approach the being. As she drew closer, the blur became a fairly definite outline of a man. He stood so perfectly still that Riven could have assumed he was nothing more than a statue or an oddly shaped rock. She kept drawing nearer in an attempt to get close enough that she could call out to the man; but he beat her to it.

"Riven," said a calm and content voice. Riven froze in her tracks; but not due to the cold weather. She had never heard the voice before in her life, and yet he seemed to know her name.

"How do you…" she began before being cut off mid sentence.

"Fury Company, en route to the forty-second division, Coeur Valley, Ionia." Riven's heart sank below her stomach as the words reached her ears. The company he had mentioned was hers; the path, her orders, and the location where her army had fallen. This man knew who she was.

"Wha…" Her voice was already stricken with weakness as the cruel memories flooded into her mind and corroded her ability to think. All she could see was the ambush from Ionian soldiers and the shortly followed hail-fire of toxic substances. The man proceeded as if he had been reciting his lines for years prior.

"The day was dark and the sky was darker. The ground beneath your feet was no more than bodies and blood. The horizon was hidden behind fog and your purpose behind a wall of a skewed visions and ideologies."

"No…" she croaked.

"You're disgusting drive to slay off innocents for being weak led you into a trap of an Ionian army that ambushed you by hiding among the corpses at you feet."

"STOP!" Riven shouted. She was on her knees and holding her head between her hands as if suffering from a migraine.

"After beginning to lose the fight, you began raining down acidic sludge on the battlefield, caring not for which side suffered the casualties." Riven sat speechless as the man's words refreshed her memories like a movie before her. She was in such intolerable pain that she could do nothing but let the tears of anger, frustration, guilt, and sorrow pour down her face like a dam broken loose after years of preparing to rupture. "In the end…" the man said before bowing his head and taking in a deep breath, "there were no victors to such a slaughter."

"No… we all… lost…" she sputtered. The man lifted his head from the bow and looked straight at Riven. He had been slowly approaching her as he spoke and got to the point where he stood right in front of her.

"Attacks like this are what left my village in ruins. I returned from fighting an army alone just to find that my people were all dead, mutated and burnt from vile chemicals that were launched without warning. I was left with nothing."

"Nothing…" she stammered in a voice that resonated with familiarity of the term. The man placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. Normally, she would have flinched in shock of the strange multi-eyed goggles that stared into her, but her heart ached with such a pain that she could not feel any other emotions. How he managed to see anything out of a pair of goggles with seven lenses, she did not know. Aside from the headwear, he dressed like a fighter who intended to leave himself highly mobile. He wore small sections of armor but most of his suit consisted of cloth or leather. His joints were completely unprotected but the top of his head was covered by a helmet that spiked backwards like a tail. He wore no sheath, but carried a sword as tall as he was. His boots seemed to have smaller swords strapped to their sides, as if they were going to need to be drawn quickly in the event that he lost his sword. Yellow and black appeared to be his colors of choice, and they laced together nicely in his outfit. It was the type of craftsmanship that one would only see in a place such as Ionia. That is when the whole event tangled itself together in Riven's mind. The man was from Ionia.

"Raise your sword," he said to her. She did not react at first and did was unwanting to get up from her crouched position on the ground. "I refuse to kill the innocent and unarmed, unlike you. I repeat. Raise. Your. Sword." Riven continued to not move and tried to debate how she should proceed. She did not have the strength to fight, but the man was there for one purpose, and one purpose only: to enact revenge. She knew that the chemical warfare was not her fault, but the fact of the matter remained that she was present in Ionia and did take part in much of its destruction. The concept made her cringe once again as it struck her mind and she wanted to hit herself for her foolish dedication to prove her strength. Had she just let it go, she would not have ventured to Ionia, and she would not be in contest with the Ionian warrior in front of her.

At long last she raised her sword. The broken blade reflected the moonlight off at random directions due to its imperfect nature. The man approached at an unrealistic speed and swung heavily at her. She stepped sideways and blocked the swing as best she could. The assassin was not done after one deflection though; he swung many times within a second. Riven blocked a scarce few but most scraped against her skin and armor. None of the cuts were deep enough to leave severe wounds, but they definitely proved that the man had no problem penetrating her defenses.

"You are not fighting. Fight," he told Riven, provoking a shudder. She had no idea what she was going to do. She could not fight the man, not in her state. She was going to die in the cold abyss, and no one would even be able to find her body. Tears ran down the sides of her face but hardly made it to her cheeks before they froze solid. She swung at the man but he side stepped the attack and returned three of his own within an instant. He was fast; really fast. Even in a prepared state, she would have had a difficult time handling such an opponent. It seemed hopeless.

She flailed about and did what she could to defend against the man for as long as she could, he continued to deliver small wounds and scrapes in seemingly self restrained sword swings. It was like he was toying with her. A few blows later, the man knocked her sword out of her hand and she stared as it flew through the air behind her. The man followed the blow with a quick slash to the front of her legs that rendered her too weak to stand. He stood above her and stared downwards with his strange multi-eyed goggles. He seemed to be contemplating whether or not he wanted to kill her. Riven closed her eyes and prepared for the worst, but was responded to by the excited yell of a man. The sound grew louder until it ended with a thud. Riven looked up to see a massive green ball rolling away from her, with her assassin tumbling about inside. Riven took the opportunity to run for her sword. She did not travel quickly, as the blood oozing from her shins slowed her down, but she got to the blade. She turned to look at Zac and her assassin rolling about. He seemed to be greatly disoriented.

Riven bowed her head and stared at her sword. If only she had not shattered it, such moments would be easier. It was a miracle that she had lasted so long without it. She hated to admit it, but the sword was a symbol of strength, as well as weakness. She hated everything that it stood for, but she wanted nothing but its power at that moment. She was willing to sacrifice its strength in order to throw away the meaning it held, but she was not willing to sacrifice its strength in order to throw away her life. Perhaps she still needed that old strength, even if it was offset and misplaced. Perhaps, she could use it until it could be morphed into something more meaningful. She opened her eyes with a new concept in mind. She shouted in agony and raised the broken blade into the sky. The runic engravings lit up with a greenish tint and the rest of the swords metal flew to its rightful place. Riven stared in amazement. Last she knew, Garen had the shards of her sword. She looked around to see if he had come with Zac, but she saw nothing. Reality snapped back into view and she turned to go help Zac with the assassin he contained.

Running at a full sprint, her now full length sword burning a line in the snow behind her, she assaulted her assassin. Zac cleared his gooey mass as she got close enough to strike, to ensure that he was not sliced as well. Riven attacked the man as she had Zed back on Ionia. Cut, scraped, battered, and bruised, she swung her sword through the air in a flurry of metal and the green runic glow left a light behind that resembled a dancer with glowsticks in the middle of the night. The assassin's speed was still greater than hers, but his strength was nothing of the sort. Many times he moved his sword to deflect her attacks, but his weapon was pushed aside by her massive blade as it continued through to land on its target. He turned to run but a quick smack against his legs with the side of her blade prevented that. He tumbled to the ground and got back up in a smooth manner. He stared at her and grinned. Within an instant, he disappeared; but not for long. He reappeared beside her and cut her arm with his sword.

"Didjya miss me?" he taunted. She swung at him but by the time her sword had arrived at her target, he was gone. The vanishing and attacking act repeated itself many times before Riven shouted out at him.

"COWARD! You wanted me to fight! Here I am! Show yourself!" Her response was less than satisfactory. The man chuckled and his voice was heard from seemingly every direction. It was like he was talking while traveling.

"I am not invisible. I am merely running. Here, let me show you." The man slowed his pace enough to be visible, but still traveling at ludicrous speeds. He was sprinting in circles around her, periodically moving in to strike.

"Wha…" she stammered.

"Years of training, years of solitude, years of patience." He moved in one more time in an attempt to cut her down. She swung her blade at him with a force so tremendous that air cracked as it moved. The two warrior's swords collided, and both shattered on impact. Riven was not too surprised to see it, since her sword was supposed to be broken to begin with. The assassin, however, seemed very amazed. The two stood and looked at their sword nubs, and looked back at each other. The assassin smirked.

"I have learned something in those years: anger, is motivation without purpose. I came, stating that I sought revenge on you Riven. This was not the truth. I understand that I cannot move based on anger and lusts for revenge, but to teach the ways that have brought me so far. You, are the one that taught me this. While not intentionally, or directly, you have. And for this, I thank you." The assassin bowed his head and threw his fractured sword to the side. "You were only able to fight me once you had drawn upon the strength of the anger and frustration of your past. I feared that this may be the case. Let me travel with you, Riven. You have much to learn."

The woman could not believe what she was hearing, or that she had actually managed to fend off the assassin. She stood in the freezing temperatures with cuts and wounds all about her body and had no idea how she should react.

"But…" she sputtered, "if I just beat you… then what do I need to learn?" The man nodded and blazed through the air as quickly as he had before. He arrived at her backside with a short blade in each hand. He held them crossed over her neck and whispered into her ear.

"You did not win. But you have strength. Let me show you how to use it." Zac approached the scene and gently removed the man's arms and swords from around her.

"Where did these come from pal?" Zac asked.

"The boots," the man replied before returning the swords into the sheaths in his shoes, and began to walk out into the snow. Zac shrugged, Riven stared, and they all walked through the snow together. Riven had picked up the shattered-again pieces of her sword, and ran her hands over them as they reapproached the Avarosan camp.

They got back to the village and did not find Garen once they had entered. Riven was not quite sure how she wanted to explain all of the events that had happened, and decided to take some time to herself. She walked towards the edge of the town and sat down in the snow, where Zac followed. The assassin remained fairly silent and walked into the village in chaos. He immediately set to helping where he could. Riven determined that he was clearly not a threat, and remained sitting where she was. She did not have the strength to help anyone out, and did not want the villagers to waste their time attempting to mend her wounds. The greatest pain she felt right then was from the inside.

They sat and stared out into the horizon, just as they had earlier that evening. Riven spoke to him without turning her head or averting her gaze.

"Zac?" she asked.

"What's up?" he replied.

"Why do you spend so much time protecting people?" Zac found the question to be a little out of left field, but he answered regardless.

"It's what I do."

"But… don't you have your own things to do?" Your own life to progress and live?"

"I was made to fight. I choose not to fight, but to protect. I don't have much else TO do."

"Made to fight…" she repeated, leaving a pause after her words. Zac picked up on the gap in her speech and pursued it.

"You seem down. What's dragging you there?"

"I… I don't know. I feel like there is more of a purpose or goal here, I just don't know what to do," Riven said.

"So you don't know what to do, but you ask why I spend my time protecting people?" Zac asked.

"Well… yeah! I mean, I've lost everything that I've had. You have SOEMTHING to live for, don't you?"

"No. I was made to fight, and I chose not to. So, if I don't do what I was made to, I do what I can with the skills that I have. It gives me purpose." Riven did not reply for awhile. She turned her head and looked at Zac.

"Why can't I be happy with me? Every time I look at myself, I see my scars, my pain, my bruises… All I feel is suffering. I can be happy and smile, but when I look at myself… I don't feel content. I don't like me… Zac, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see a strong woman. A woman with a spirit that cannot be shattered, no matter how many times it's beaten. I see someone who will not roll over, and someone whose vitality is strong enough that it emanates off of her, even if she cannot see it." She smiled in return.

"You didn't say a single thing about my appearance," she giggled.

"I'm not one for looks. To me, everyone looks weird. To them, I look weird. So it's not a big concern of mine." Riven rolled her eyes somewhat sarcastically and pushed on with the conversation.

"Regardless, if what you said is true, then why don't I feel happy with myself?"

"You just need what everyone else in this world needs. You need someone who can look at you, with all of your flaws and imperfections, all of your injuries and pain, see straight through those things, and into you."

"And what kind of person is that?" Riven asked.

"That is someone who loves you. Someone who loves you, not for what you have done, or where you have been, but loves you for… you."

"You think… I just need… someone to love me…"

"I don't think champ, I know."

"Someone who will look past my flaws and still love me... Someone who I can see still loves me through my imperfections, and gives me content with my blemishes. So that I understand that my pain is accepted by someone… and if they don't care… then why should I… It… It makes sense…" Zac smiled at her.

"Glad someone thinks so."

"Zac…" Riven said.

"Yes?"

"Thank you…" she replied as she leaned onto his blobby figure. His body squished and made a nice pillow for her, where she remained staring out to the distance for about an hour until she felt a hand softly placed on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Garen asked.

"Yeah... Yeah I think I am. How about yourself?"

"I found a survivor. Well... More or less. I took her back here. She seems to be recovering well, but..."

Garen's lack of knowing what to say heavily confused Riven. She turned around to get a good view of his face and saw him standing with his head bowed. The thick scarf he wore shrouded his mouth and blew gently behind him in the wind. His hair sat a little tussled on top of his head and swayed back and forth, tossing old bits of snow off just to make room for new flakes to settle.

Riven wrapped a gentle hand around his leg and looked up at him.

"Garen... What is it?" she requested.

"A lot. First off, the woman I found is presumed to be the same one who attacked the village. I... Do not know what to do with her. It has been wracking my mind... It is a very strange feeling. I would say she should be put on trial and executed for the damage and pain she has caused... However... I talked to a man just moments ago. His words still linger in my mind." Riven looked more perplexed than she did prior to asking Garen what was wrong and it showed in her body language. She patted the snow next to her to imply that he should take a seat and talk. He shifted himself to the ground but did not raise his view towards his audience. Zac remained on the ground with Riven leaning against him.

"Who did you talk to Garen?" Riven asked.

"A strange man. He looked to be an assassin but bore no noticeable weapon. He told me he had just met with you two. He stated that he would like to travel with me and my company. I have no idea how he knows that I am associated with you, but when I asked why I should trust him he told me that he had just spared your life, Riven." Riven did not respond and they sat for a few minutes before Garen continued. "He told me he was from Ionia, and wished to help teach you in the ways of Wuju; a fighting style based around peace and tranquility. He is being honest; which means he found a way to overcome his vendetta against you for what you did to him, his people, and his homeland, and now wishes to aid you. I do not understand that kind of dedication and ideology. But I... I do not know where I would be if you had not returned from your search outside the village. Perhaps... Perhaps trying the woman for what she has done is not the right way."

After finishing his monologue, a few tears rolled down Riven's cheek as she reached out to clutch Garen's scarf. The man finally looked up from his ground based stare and peered into her eyes.

"There is more pain in living with guilt… than dying for your cause. Once you realize that your cause was not just… you wish you would have passed before when someone would have been willing to honor you." Riven spoke through an unstable voice and could barely keep her eyes forward as she looked at Garen.

"Riven, I know. It is a new concept to me. But I am learning. Let us head back into the village. I need to speak with her when she wakes up." Garen finished his sentence and casually removed Riven's hand from his scarf before getting to his feet and offering her a lift up. She took his hand and he quickly pulled her to her feet while Zac reverted to his humanoid form and the party returned to the village.

By that point in time, the sun had fully risen and light poured onto the white world around them. Garen led them to the house where Sejuani was resting, and found her to be still unconscious. The village elder sat inside and Garen asked him if there was a place in which they could rest. The man smiled and waved for them to come in. They shuffled into his house and he led them around a corner and up a flight of steps. The upper level was one large room that was well furnished and overall appeared to be very comfortable. Riven made her way towards the couch and laid out across it. Zac found a chair near the fireplace and decided to sit down; not that it really made a difference to him, but it appeared more natural to others. Garen took a cushion from one of the other chairs in the room and tossed it onto the ground before pulling off his coat to lay it over himself like a blanket. His body was so exhausted from the day's events that he found himself sound asleep quite shortly after getting into his makeshift bed.

They awoke midway through the day and were very slow to begin moving. Garen retrieved the bag of pills and the water device before tossing one of each Riven's way. He took the pill and drank to ensure that he did not go hungry anytime soon. The strange prototypes that they had received from the man in Zaun appeared to be doing the trick. They made their way towards the bottom of the house and found the woman to be sitting up in bed. She stared at the wall, blankly. Garen looked around and did not see the elder anywhere. Garen nodded at Zac and Riven to indicate that he would go talk to her. He approached her and sat in a chair across from the bed, in the direction that she was staring.

"Why am I here," she asked plainly. It almost seemed more like a statement than a question.

"I found you in the snow. I brought you back here instead of leaving you to freeze to death," Garen replied.

"No one asked you to." The response was only slightly startling to Garen. He did not expect, or require, a "thanks" for his actions, but he did not know why she seemed to oppose his actions.

"I did not need anyone to ask me to. I was looking for survivors from the village. I found one and acted immediately," the Demacian replied. She continued to stare in his direction. Her eyes were not focused on him however, more so on the wall behind him. Her breathing was shallow and raspy. Clearly she had spent too long struggling for oxygen in the winter's harsh winds while lying in the snow.

"You did not find what you were looking for," she told him. He bowed his head and returned his gaze straight into her eyes.

"Yes, I did, Sejuani." His words seemed to finally draw her attention. Her eyes moved from the wall and to his face. The two sat and seemed to stare straight into each other's soul. Riven and Zac remained unmoving.

"He is more serene than I would have expected," said a somewhat unfamiliar voice from the side. Riven turned towards the new noise and saw the Ionian assassin walking towards them.

"Where did…" Riven started before being cut off.

"I move quickly," the man replied with a smile. He motioned towards Sejuani and Garen to imply that he was interested in hearing out the rest of their conversation, despite the fact that they were very silent at that moment.

"Who are you?" Sejuani asked.

"My name is Garen Crownguard, a former champion from the League of Legends and captain of Demacia's Dauntless Vanguard." Her eyes narrowed at his response.

"Democracy. Pah. Do you plan to put me on trial?"

"That is not my decision. You are still in Freljord." The woman's gaze narrowed more; in a penetrating effect.

"Then where am I," she asked in the same manner as she had with her first question.

"The Avarosan Camp neighboring the one you assaulted. The village elder has already tended to your wounds. You have been resting for half of a day or so." Sejuani immediately began to rip the bandages off of her body and tried to stand. The sudden motion left her light headed but she tried to push her way out of the house regardless. Garen barred her path by standing in front of the door and folding his arms.

"Get OUT of my way!" she snarled.

"No," he replied calmly. She took her hand into a fist and swung at Garen's face. He clasped the incoming hand in his and remained fairly still. The act clearly angered the woman more and she attempted to knee him in the groin. Garen shifted his waist to take the knee to his thigh and pushed her back down on to the bed. She remained lying on the bed and panted in exhaustion. Her body was not nearly prepared for that kind of action and it was showing.

"Why…" she said through huffed breathes. "Did… You sa… ave me… You… should 'ave… let me… die…"

"Why would I let someone in need, die?" The large man asked.

"Because… because I was weak… I couldn't… I couldn't make it alone… That is weakness…"

"If the Queen of a tribe, dedicated to only allowing the strong to survive, dies off, how much longer do you think loyalty to the cause will live on?"

"Forever… It proves a point. It proves… dedication."

"So if the strongest of them all is still too weak to survive in Freljord, then how will anyone else live? It does not show dedication to a cause, it shows stupidity." The woman was unable to come up with a response for quite some time. She lay on the bed and continued to try to catch her breath. A few of her wounds had begun to bleed again in the forced motion after removing her wrappings and Garen picked the bandages up off of the floor and started to replace them.

"Stop!" she yelled at him.

"You are bleeding," Garen told her.

"So let me bleed!"

"Did you listen to a WORD I just said? Think Sejuani! You are fighting for the wrong cause! Your methods do not weed out the weak, but weaken the strong! When a warrior loses the ones he loves he does not become stronger, he fights for revenge and petty reasons! This is what makes a monster, not a fighter. Do you want your country filled with monsters and savages?"

"My PEOPLE are not SAVAGES!" she shouted, sitting up on the bed again. That time, the Ionian man stepped in to reply for Garen.

"People, do not kill innocents and ruin lives."

"That is the ONLY way people learn! They are stubborn and stupid!"

"Listen to yourself, young warrior. Stubborn. And stupid. Surely, there is another way," the assassin replied. Her eyes seemed to relax a little as the man spoke. Perhaps some logic was getting through to her.

"You… who are you?"

"You may call me Master Yi. I am an Ionian, strong in the ways of Wuju."

"Ionian… an Ionian warrior… not many of you are left, after Noxus invaded. Why do you speak how you do? Why don't you cut down the Noxians like they deserve?

"Because, it makes me no better than them. We do not need a world of suffering. There is enough of that as is." Sejuani continued to sit and stare at Yi.

"Demacian," she stated.

"Yes?" Garen replied.

"How is it that you share the same ideology as an Ionian, yet you are a captain among Demacian forces?"

"There is one thing that I hold higher than the honor I once sought so hard to attain. Contentment. If upholding your duty and loyalty will leave you miserable due to your lack of ability to protect the ones you love and the things you hold dear, than it is no longer loyalty: it is simply foolishness." She paused after his words and took in a deep, raspy, breath.

"Is that why you are here?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Your lot… it perplexes me. I cannot stay here in this village. They will kill me for my actions. Let me travel with you. You may have something to teach me… Or I may end up wasting my time and part at a later date." Garen smiled and sat back down across from her.

"You house a lot of pain Sejuani," Garen started before moving a hand towards her shoulder. She grasped it out of the air and held it firmly. "It's ok to show it, every once in awhile."

"You will never see me show pain," she retorted before tossing his hand aside. He brushed off his knees, almost as if showing he was finished with a dirty job, and got to his feet. The party made their way to the door and saw Sejuani getting out of bed to follow.

"Um, you really ought to rest," Garen told her.

"I will do as I please. Now, where do you plan to go?" she replied. Garen looked hesitant but did not plan to argue any longer.

"All of us need weapons. Do you know where we can go?" he asked her.

"Yes. But what do we need them for?"

"We are being chased by assassins. Seeing Yi's presence here assures me that someone knows where we are. Staying here is not safe for the villagers."

"Right. Then follow me." Sejuani made her way towards the door but Garen barred it once again. He took off his scarf and began to wrap it around her head before she slapped his hand away.

"WHAT are you doing?"

"You know who you are, correct? And what the people of this village will do if they see you?" Garen's question was responded to with a firm silence before she continued to wrap the scarf around her face to cover it up. Garen nodded once she had finished and walked out of the door to the house. Outside, the village elder was on his way back to his home. He smiled at the ground and waved them goodbye. He did not bother to say a word, and Garen had thought that the elder understood what their intention was. The assaulted village situation seemed to be remotely under control and removing Sejuani from the situation would take stress off of him. While he was dedicated to the ways of the Avarosan enough to make sure he did not act irrationally, he was not so certain of his fellow tribe members.

A few hours passed as they marched through the snow in a direction that no one but Sejuani was familiar with. The sun was starting to set and the snow was beginning to roll in. It seemed the only thing in Freljord that kept the storms away was sunlight itself.

The party came across a seemingly abandoned camp with a fire pit in the middle whose embers still smoked: it could not have been abandoned for more than a day. Sejuani made her way through the mess of armor and food scraps littering the snow and into one of the tents on the far side. Presumably, it was where she and her men had set up camp prior to the assault on the Avarosan tribe.

"Where are all of the soldiers?" Riven asked.

"I was with you the entire way here. How would I know?" Sejuani responded. Riven's eyes wandered about before resting on the ground. She had forgotten that communication in Freljord was not as easy to acquire, seeing as the skies were too dangerous for most birds to fly through with a note or letter. They entered the tent behind Sejuani and looked about. It was fairly long, with flimsy looking wooden tables strewn across its length. The walls housed racks of weapons, but most of them were picked over. Sejuani made her way to the opposite end and picked up a large flail. Garen wrinkled his brow at her choice but did not make a comment. He had wielded swords most of his life and stuck to them. However, he knew many people with different preferences, and being a champion in the League, he had the opportunity to experience many different fighters.

Zac stood back and watched, seeing as he did not need a weapon to be effective in combat. Garen made his way towards a small rack of swords and picked up the largest one he could find. He grinned while tracing his hand along its edge. The blade seemed fairly dull, but the massive size of it was more than enough for Garen; hitting an opponent with enough force and a large enough sword was sometimes more effective than cutting them. Yi picked up a sword that seemed to be shaped more like a samurai's; thinner and sharper, effective for quick and precise motions. Riven browsed the limited options but regrouped without having picked up anything at all. She still clutched the broken blade in her hand like it was one of her appendages. Garen smiled at her.

"Too dedicated to your blade, Riven?" She smiled back at Garen's comment and looked at Yi.

"I think I can learn to cope with it." Garen looked to her back and noticed the pieces of her blade tied against it.

"When did you… ?" he began. She chuckled at his confusion; previously he had been holding on to the blade pieces himself.

"I'll tell ya later," she replied. The party made their way out of the tent with their newly acquired weapons and looked out into the snow storm that had quickly transitioned into view.

"Where now?" Sejuani asked. Garen pointed to a group of figures out in the distance.

"Here. Get ready," he said while gripping his sword.

"How do you know that they are here to fight?" Sejuani asked.

"Why would anyone be approaching one of you camps in the middle of a blizzard, unless they knew who was in it?" Sejuani understood his question and readied her weapon. She was in no condition to fight, but if Garen was correct, she did not have an option. The group was there either for Sejuani, or Garen. Either way, the company would not be the friendly sort.