I Will Defy

by Rook837

"You're just another Ionian coward, too weak to stand on you own, but too proud to bow down. I can see it, plain as day, and now... everyone else can too." (Rated M for Intense Violence and Dark Content. Nothing Explicit)

25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Fairfax enters the room like a ghost, giving me a nod as I finish explaining the plan for a third time to everyone. I tilt my head back at him, and he closes the door just loud enough to be heard. Everyone but Seth turns in fearful surprise.

"Fairfax is on our side," I say simply. "What's the news?"

"It's as I thought," Fairfax sighs. "If you remember, Sadon was handed complete control of security except for the perimeter wall."

I wince. I remember all right. My little outburst to keep myself here cost Fairfax an important position, but how could I have known that at the time?

"Sorry about that."

"A necessary sacrifice," Fairfax waves it off. "I managed to find out his orders for tomorrow anyways. All guards are to conduct patrols around the academy in intermittent patterns. There won't be a single Noxian guard actually inside the academy. Apparently his reasoning was that if no one could get inside…"

"Then there would be nothing to worry about," I finish thoughtfully. "But… I think this ends up helping us. We won't have to worry about anyone adding to the fight or getting in the crossfire besides actual… combatants. When do the guards leave to start patrolling?"

"One hour before the match tomorrow," Fairfax responds. "They'll be doing one last sweep to make sure everyone is within their rooms as Dumont ordered, and I just learned they'll be putting spells on each door to keep them locked for the duration of the match."

"The spells won't be a problem," I thump my fist against the wall softly. "But patrolling an hour beforehand might be. I'm guessing we'll have roughly thirty minutes before the match starts to set things up, if we want to be safe about not encountering any guards."

"Correct," Fairfax states. "Is that enough time?"

"We'll make it work," I wave a hand, trying to ignore the building pressure. "Anyways… I think we're good for now. The last thing we have to do… I want to talk to each of you in turn."

"About?" Devon raises an eyebrow, breaking the uneasy quiet.

About why each of you betrayed me and how I feel about it. That's what I want to say, but I bite it down. I already had this conversation with Seth last night, about how I didn't trust them still even after yesterday. I mean, it took so much for me to trust Seth, and even still I find myself slipping.

I wish this was hard for me, but it isn't. The simple truth is that I have to be sure of the people I'm going to be fighting with. A lot of people could die tomorrow, but I'm going to do my best to make sure it's only those who truly need to.

"I, um," I fidget, letting out a breath. "Look, I want to trust all of you, but… you know what happened to me. It would make me feel better if I could talk to each of you before tomorrow, if that's alright."

I get unanimous nods, and I give a weak smile back.

"Thank you. If I could talk to Devon first while the rest of you wait outside. I'll send him out to get the next person after we're done."

They file out after their affirmations, and Fairfax holds the door open for them, closing it behind them but remaining inside the room with Devon and me. Devon notices, raising an eyebrow and looking back to me.

"Ah," he says simply. "Now that we know the plan we're liabilities, huh? This isn't just because of what happened to you, is it?"

"I'm not risking thousands of innocent Ionian lives because I think I can trust each of you," I whisper back softly, giving a shrug.

"I don't blame you," Devon nods. "It's smarter this way. So, what do you want me to say?"

I take a second just to consider my words, choosing each one with care. I don't want to drive anyone away now, but I need the truth from them.

"Devon," I say slowly. "When you told me about who had access to the poison that was used on me, you had no way of knowing Alexander and I had gone in earlier, and that's when he took it."

"But nevertheless, I was incorrect," Devon interrupts analytically, looking unperturbed. "I thought I was observant enough to help you, and you payed the price for it. You were hurt because of my mistake, my failure."

I squint at him indecisively. He's always been so silent and stoic that I didn't expect him to lash out or anything, but the fact he still admits his mistake makes me hesitate for a moment before pushing on.

"So why should I trust you?" I continue.

"Because we're both survivors," Devon says with a shrug. "The thing is, just like you, I've come to realize it's not enough to just survive anymore. If I don't fight back here and now, then I'll never stop fighting to stay alive, and I'm tired of fighting to breathe another day just to get my hands bloody the next day."

He blinks, seemingly surprised by his own words, and I see him frown as he considers what he just said. Devon's probably worried he said something too emotional in his fervor, but he shouldn't be.

"Alright," I nod. "Thank you. If you could get Xander next."

Devon nods, dark eyes still looking troubled, and he leaves. Xander steps in nervously, and I can see by how pale he looks he already knows why he's in here.

"Before you say anything," Xander starts quickly, licking his lips. "I just want you to know-"

"I forgive you," I interrupt with a whisper.

He stops, choking on whatever he was about to say, blinking quickly with a quizzical look.

"Xander," I say softly. "I know about the poison, and I also understand why you didn't tell me. I get it, I really do."

"I just…" Xander sputters. "I thought if I told you, I would become no different than them in your eyes, and I wanted to be your friend so badly…"

"Why?" I ask weakly. "Why did you want to be my friend?"

Xander gives me a look like I just asked a question a little kid might, but I hold my ground.

"Aria, you may be quiet, but your actions speak so much louder than anything you could say. Your strength in fighting duels for yourself, your compassion in running with Molly in the forest, and even the way you're always willing to smile to make others feel okay even if it is a painful and lonely mask to wear… You're not just a good person, you're an amazing person, and I don't just want to be friends with someone like that, I want to be someone like that."

Tears well up in my eyes as pride and embarrassment fill me, Whatever words or plans I had to say next leave me, and I find myself clearing my suddenly tight throat, my heart burning bright.

"Thank you," I manage to say, wiping at my eyes quickly. "If you'd send in Molly…"

Xander gives a smile, leaving out the door, and I take a deep breath.

I prepare myself mentally, steeling my nerves and pushing the giddiness drawn up from Xander's words away from my mind. Instead, I draw on the suspicion and tension inside of me, taking a breath as I wait to confront Molly. Xander's words may have carried joy and love, but I can't let myself feel that right now. No, right now, I need to question a liar, one maybe as dangerous as Alexander.

Molly enters with a sad look in her eyes, her hands clasped lightly in front of her as she steps to me, biting her lip softly.

"Aria," Molly whispers. "I'm so sorry. If I had known even half the things-"

"Who are you really?" I ask in one quick breath, my words sharp and suspicious.

She stops, looking at me in silence for a long moment. Then she gives a nod, more to herself than to me, and speaks with a firm voice.

"I am a diplomat's daughter, sent here to spy on the sudden creation of this academy. There were rumors circulating about the weird choices being made for the third sub-level's students, some saying they were political while others insisted they were actually the most elite of the mages chosen. Our spy was already embedded and couldn't change levels without raising suspicion, so I volunteered. My real name is Molly Lightguard, and I'm a Demacian, the complete opposite of a Noxian and therefore one of their sworn enemies."

I reel backwards, tilting my head, my mouth moving but no words coming out.

I think, every memory and conversation replaying itself at the speed of thought and...

It makes perfect sense.

Of everyone here, Molly acted the least Noxian, something I overlooked because she said she hadn't spent much time there. No, now everything about her seems to fall into place. Her oddly defensive fighting style is something that a Demacian would use. I had assumed it was just because her father wanted her to be safe and didn't teach her the more aggressive Noxian styles…

She's telling the truth. She has to be. That is, unless this is some sort of lie built on her first lie about who she was to make this lie more believable. I mean, I'm suspicious, but I don't think I could be that paranoid.

Wait, if she's a Demacian spy, then…

"Who is Ann to you then?" I ask, my voice numb. "She's not your childhood friend, is she?"

"She is," Molly says. "But she also is a spy for Demacia, the original one sent here. I guess you could call her my handler as well as a backup plan in case anything happened to me."

I rub my temple, a headache beginning to form.

All this time, ever since Alexander told me, I thought she was a two-faced liar who was cheating me just like he was. The difference between the two is that Molly lied to help others and risk herself while Alexander did it to help himself and risk others. She may have lied to me, but…

How could I hate someone trying to protect others by risking themselves?

I was expecting an enemy that I could use against someone worse, and instead I end up with a friend more like me than I could ever have thought.

"What you said about our sub level," I ask in a hushed tone. "I remember Dumont telling us we were the leftovers, that he just needed to fill the academy, but are we really the strongest mages here?"

"Yes," Molly nods. "Ann told me the other sublevels spent almost a month if not longer in each phase before moving on while we only took a week."

"So why lie to us?" I murmur.

"Reverse psychology?" Molly suggests. "Get us thinking we were starting low to get us working even harder?"

"Maybe," I shake my head.

Something about that nags at the back of my mind, like it's important somehow, but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's just my paranoia from connecting so many things to one conspiracy, and now I feel like I have a whole new puzzle piece to work with. It's something to keep in mind, at least, but it's not important right now. What's really important is what I need to tell Molly.

"Molly," I begin, trying to push through the guilt inside me. "How I treated you, and the things I said, I'm so sor-"

"Aria," Molly interrupts, peering closely at me.

I meet her gaze cautiously, but I get no anger or revenge. I only get a warm, understanding smile and a gentle nod.

It's more than words could ever say, and I can only nod back, returning the smile as relief takes over me.

"Thank you."

"It's what friends are for."

My smile deepens.

"Unless there's anything else," Molly says smoothing her skirt. "I'm going to go help Xander with his part of the plan. He said he could use a lab assistant."

"No, go ahead," I say. "Just… your secret is safe with me."

"I know." she rolls her eyes. "But that won't stop me from telling the others. They deserve to know, and besides, Xander's reaction is going to be priceless."

I laugh as she leaves, and Seth enters only to see Fairfax and I shaking our heads at each other with grins, neither of us quite expecting that.

"What?" Seth frowns. "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing important," I laugh. "Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow…"

"You're worried about your part, aren't you?" Seth asks grimly, and I hesitate a moment before nodding.

"I haven't used a single combat spell while I've been here at the academy," I mumble, brushing a hair out of my eyes. "Even in the League matches, all my spells are just forms of utility spells, but tomorrow…"

"You're afraid what you might have to do." Seth finishes.

"I just… I don't have any medicine left, and if I have to hurt people…"

"You won't," Seth says, his voice invoking a scary calm. "Because nobody will get close enough to hurt you, not while I'm there."

I give a weak smile, and his words to actually dispel some of my fears. I feel a slight relaxation begin to seep into my muscles, and it's only now that I realize how tired I am. I've been so tense and worried all day today, only thinking about what might happen. There's no point worrying, not now. All I can do is pray my plan works.

"Thank you, Seth," I whisper. "I just hope… combat magic isn't the only type of magic I haven't used since that day, and if something happens and I accidentally tap into that… I think the results would be the same."

"I know, but it's going to be okay."

"How?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Because," Seth says like a statement of fact, "You're the strongest person I know."

He moves towards me after saying that, reaching out his hand as if to drop something into mine, and I hold my own out after a second of confusion. When his hand opens, something silver and light falls into my palm, and it takes me a second to recognize it.

It's my silver cross necklace with the blue sapphire in the middle, the one I threw inside the Noxian "church." I swallow my emotions as I realize just how important this small keepsake is to me. I had forgotten about it, the one thing that still connected me to my family besides my sword and my blood.

"I didn't mean to overhear you that day," Seth says, scratching the back of his head. "But… well I wanted answers too, and… well, now I think we have them. Everything you've been through, it's been for this. Nobody but you could stop what's happening tomorrow. Call it divine preparation or simple coincidence, I don't really care, but it doesn't change the fact that every trial has made it so you can save everyone in occupied Ionia from cruelty that they can't even begin to imagine. So… maybe it's not time to lose faith just yet."

My skin prickles, a pure, exhilarating wave of hope giving strength to my weary bones. I close my eyes, soaking in the experience as I begin to consider something I never thought of before.

Maybe, just maybe, there has been a reason for everything I've gone through. The pain, loneliness, cruelty, and suffering, all of it has made me who I am now, and that's the kind of person who can stop evil on a scale I can barely fathom. Life isn't fair, but it certainly is strange, taking people who don't deserve what they get and making them something more through their tragedies.

"Thank you," I whisper, and I don't have to open my eyes to nod.

I keep my eyes closed as I clutch the necklace to my chest, but after a moment, I reach out, holding my left hand open as a hopeful invitation.

He takes it, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand, and I feel my muscles in my body relax as the warmth of humanity soaks into my skin

Maybe everything will be okay.

Maybe it won't

But at least I have this.

And for as long as it lasts, it's enough.

The moment ends too soon like most good things do, but I enjoy what I can out of it. Seth gives a little wink before leaving, and I can't help but let out a little laugh. I watch my friend go, thoughts trailing after him. I only turn to Fairfax when I hear him let out a little cough, taking me from my stupor.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

"Just that I wanted you to have this," Fairfax says, holding out his hand, a small, rectangular crystal with a iridescent green hue to it.

"Wow," I say, gently grabbing it. "I didn't realize the Fairfax family was so big on giving gifts."

"I can't let my little brother have a monopoly on everything." Fairfax shrugs.

"Little brother?" I ask, holding the crystal up the the light. "Isn't he your ward or your adopted son? Shouldn't you be more like his father or something?"

"Considering I'm only a few years older than him, I doubt that would ever have worked," Fairfax says dryly, and I grin, looking back to the crystal in my hand.

"This… it's a teleportation crystal, isn't it?" I ask, finally making out the tiny glyphs inscribed on its surface, a small hum of energy radiating from the object."

"It will take you to the academy's first floor," Fairfax nods. "Right next to the entrance. If things go badly…"

"Oh…" I murmur, pocketing the crystal. "Thanks."

The silence that follows isn't so much awkward as it is tense, the seriousness of the situation settling in.

Tomorrow, me and a bunch of teenagers are going to go up against a group of elite Noxians who have been planning this for years.

Tomorrow, there's a very good chance a lot of people are going to die.

And if they do, it's going to be on me, on my hands.

I swallow, looking at them, at how small they are. They shake ever so slightly, the tremors barely noticeable unless someone were to look close enough. The last thing I want is to have the blood of other people who are willing to risk their lives for what's right on my hands. The blood of my friends…

"You know," I say quietly. "Good Noxians always have a plan, but the best always have plans. There's going to be things happening tomorrow that we couldn't possibly have prepared for, and when they do…"

"We'll deal with them," Fairfax says, his word ice. "Because we have to."

"Yeah," I nod. "I'm just worried that we haven't figured out their other plans."

"Other plans? Rigging a League match so win or lose Noxus still gets what it wants isn't enough?"

"I don't know," I sigh. "Something as big as setting up an academy for a League match… it just feels like they would have more than one plan in motion to capitalize it. Maybe it's just paranoia, but… I've got a really bad feeling that this isn't it."

Fairfax considers that for a moment, before giving a nod.

"Maybe, but we can only deal with things we know about. There's no point worrying about ifs. Things will go wrong, just like in any battle. Plans change, secrets emerge, and people die. The only thing that matters is who adapts the best to what happens, as it happens. We have a good plan, one I could never have thought of. You know more about the League than anyone here, so it's more than safe to say we've done all we can. Now, we just have to wait."

"Right…" I say, his words doing a lot to ease my nerves, but they still linger with electric intensity.

Tomorrow, we fight to save others, and if we fail, generations of Ionians will be doomed. A culture destroyed, a nation crippled, lives uprooted permanently, ages of agony and suffering, and a grim occupation turned into eternal oppression.

Seth, Fairfax, and even the rest seem convinced that I can do this, but if that's true, why am I so scared? Why do I feel like I'm about to throw up? Why do I just want to sleep through tomorrow and let whatever happens happen?

Deep down, I guess I know why. It's because for the first time in a long time, I'm confronting evil. This time, I face it head on, no longer turning my back to it. I'm walking back towards pain willingly even though I've had more than a lifetime of suffering, and the very idea makes me sick. I've know where this path leads, and I don't want to go through this agony again.

But I have to do it, because if I don't, I let every evil thing that's happened to me win, and that's something I can't afford to let happen, not anymore, not if I want to be something more than a victim to myself.

So I'll fight, not to survive, but to finally get my life back, no matter the cost.

"Where's Fairfax?" Molly asks nervously, holding her bag of magical scrolls tightly.

"It's fine," I mumble absently, trying my best to focus as my heart pounds blood through my head. "He's the extra, remember? If he found anything out at the last minute, it was up to him to fix it for the rest of the plan to work. We'll be fine."

"Right," Molly says sounding not quite convinced, and I don't blame her.

Devon, Molly, Seth, and I stand a few feet inside the tunnel, the hole that serves as an entrance behind us. Seth and Devon are armored up in dark leather armor, each styled after their League armors. Seth holds his bearded axe firmly while Devon holds a gladius, a short sword, in each hand. Molly wears a simple mage's robe with what appear to be anciently written runes of protection written in silver ink on the grey-white silk. She has a multitude of bags strapped to her, each overflowing with scrolls that glow gently with ethereal blue light.

I chose to simply wear my school uniform with an added sash around my waist to hold my sheath. Other than that, I plan to simply use my magics. Anything else would have taken too much time or energy to prepare, so this will have to be enough.

Molly stands a good five feet behind me, while Devon and Seth are almost ten feet in front of me. The tunnel itself could maybe fit 5 people shoulder to shoulder, and the two of them are spaced just far enough apart that they cover the entire width without having to worry about getting in each other's way in combat.

I push the point of my sword back into the ground, cutting through the stone with some effort, and I do my best not to rush the cuts. It's difficult, but the deeper the lines are, the easier it will be for me to see when I have to cast my magic. I finish the last symbol, stepping back to look everything over quickly.

A series of circles, some concentric and others overlapping, covers the ground of the tunnel. Lines weave through the drawing, seemingly random and at other times following an unknown pattern. Glyphs and runes repeat around the inside edges of the circles, covering the rest of the symbol. Almost everything is covered except for the very middle of the drawing where a circle of shoulder-width marks a completely empty spot on the floor.

"Are you sure Fairfax is okay?" Molly asks again, and I nod.

"He told me he could get letters out yesterday and have them delivered within twelve hours. I sent some to my mother and my other brother. I thought it would be smart to make sure they knew what was going on here. That, and I had one last piece of advice to give my brother about his job."

I scratch another rune into the floor, spotting a slight flaw in the ritual diagram.

"Alright," Molly nods quickly, pacing back and forth. "Sorry, I know I'm being annoying. How are you so calm right now? I mean the League match that will literally determine your future is happening while we set up here, and at any moment Noxians soldiers could storm in trying to kill-"

"Molly," I say quietly, clenching my teeth as my heart stutters in my throat. "Not helping."

"Oh, void," Molly says, slapping herself. "Sorry."

I get back to work, looking the diagram over for any mistakes. Considering it's one of the most complicated pieces of ritual magic I've ever drawn, it's entirely possible. It wouldn't be terrible if something was slightly off or out of place, but the closer it is the easier my spell will be.

I honestly don't know how I'm so calm. It's not that I'm scared or nervous, because I am, but it just doesn't affect me like it should. Maybe it's because I'm prepared, or maybe it's because I can't let it affect me. This isn't game, this is literally life or death. I have to prepared to kill people today.

And the scariest part, is that I am, and it doesn't especially bother me.

It doesn't bother me because I'll do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about.

"ETA Aria?" Devon asks suddenly, and my attentions snaps up to him.

"Five minute after I finish checking it again," I say, a nauseous stillness settling in my guts. "Why?"

"The League match started two minutes ago," Devon murmurs, spinning a gladius with deadly ease. "And I hear someone coming."

I stop suddenly, straining my hearing. A soft echo that grows in strength comes down the tunnel, and I suddenly feel the blood inside me freeze. The sound of dozens of running footsteps washes over me.

There's not enough time.

I look down at my spell, desperately trying to figure out what to do. The plan was to close the tunnel by basically making a portion of a ley line into physically expressed magical energy, that is, a giant wall of raging, pure magic. The physical diagram is designed to help me symbolize different parts of the spell by externalizing some of it, but even then, creating such a huge magical barrier would take at least three minutes if I rushed it.

Figures begin to appear from the shadows. They wear cloaks over dark blue plate armor, and they all have helmets or masked faces that shroud their features. They look exactly like Ionian rebels even down to the symbol of the three vertical white lines on their breastplates. There's not even a second of hesitation as they notice us. No, the only thing they do is draw their weapons and sprint faster, darkness gleaming off their steel.

A few things hit me all at once.

Firstly, I was right.

Secondly, a score of killers is running right at me and the only people I call friends.

Thirdly, the soldiers are here way earlier than I expected. They should have… stars. Of course they're early. Why would they wait for the match to start going poorly when they can interfere right away and have that to fall back on? It gives them more time to pull off their plan. I messed up by thinking they wouldn't start immediately.

Fourthly, everything seems surreal. There's no hesitation or even doubt as they run at us, just the pure intent to kill whatever stands in their way.

Fifthly, if Seth, Devon, or Molly hesitate in trying to kill them even for even a moment, they will die.

Finally, there's no way Seth and Devon can fight with them long enough for me to finish my spell.

Not if they want to get out alive.

"We'll hold them off!" Seth snarls, gripping his axe with both hands. "Just hurry!"

With that, he and Devon take off at a sprint to meet the Noxian elites disguised as my countrymen. Two students versus the best killers Noxus has to offer, and they are going to try and hold them off for minutes.

A panicked breath escapes me as I look back at the symbol around me, desperately trying to come up with a plan. Think, Aria, think.

Alright, the tunnel is reinforced with magic, so I can't collapse or alter it somehow. I need to create a barrier of some sort, one that can't easily be dispelled by other mages. I have a ritual drawing set up designed to tap into the ley lines of Ionia around me and power a massive spell. If I continue with the plan and make a purely magical barrier, Seth and Devon will die. It's just not possible for them to hold out that long.

But what other option do I have? I need a barrier that won't be dispelled, one that can repair itself. What could do that besides rerouting a ley line's energy?

Behind me, I hear low words of power being spoken, each inflection sending shivers through the air as humming energy swirls into existence. I glance behind to see Molly has lain out several scrolls on the floor around her and is chanting from different ones in turns, her eyes glossed over with focus as her hands move in abstract motions.

Auras flare into existence around Seth and Devon, and suddenly they are moving through the tunnel at a sprint without any apparent effort, feet flying over the bumps of stone.

I force myself to step forward into the symbol, taking my spot in the center as my heart pounds uncontrollably. I raise my hands, my lip wobbling as I begin to consider what I'm about to do.

The plan had always been for the four of us to close of the tunnel, the three of them supporting me by holding off any forces while I worked. I had thought that I would be cutting it close, that maybe Seth and Devon would have to enter combat for a few dozen seconds.

But minutes? Even with Molly conjuring auras to increase their strength and protect them, her support magic would only carry the two so far against veteran soldiers. I mean, they're good, but-

Seth and Devon close the distance with two of the disguised Noxian soldiers. With the cramped quarters of the tunnel, they had wisely decided to only come at my friends two at a time, turning what could have been a jumbled mess into two parallel one on one duels. The two Noxians have single edged Ionian longswords instead of katanas, and they dart at my friends with lightning speed in a storm of fury and bloodlust.

Seth and Devon are to my right and left respectively, engaging two Noxian elites, and I don't see any hesitation in their movements.

There's an explosion of movement from my two friends, and I barely make out their movements. Seth ducks for no apparent reason, adjusting his axe as if to turn it into a long sweep while Devon jumps into the air with a precise grace, whipping one sword over Seth in a vicious throw while simultaneously bringing the other to slap away a blow from the Noxian on the right.

Devon's gladius screams through the air, and Seth barely ducks in time, only making it because he somehow anticipated the move. The Noxian on my left has all of a half second to react, and it just isn't enough. The shortsword hits the Noxian right in his neck, sinking all the way to the hilt and slightly throwing his body sideways into the wall. The Noxian on the right tries to take advantage of Seth's duck and oddly placed axe.

Devon uses his second blade to parry the Noxian's while he's still airborne, and Seth comes rising up with a leaping step, bring his axe in a diagonal swing from his left hip. This Noxian is faster than his companion, and he manages to take a half step backwards, but it still doesn't save him. Seth's axe slices through his stomach and armor without discrimination, cutting the Noxian almost completely through all the way to his shoulder.

The shadows the dying Noxian falls back into spare me the worst of the fountain of gore, but it doesn't conceal a short lived scream that turns into a gurgle from the dying Noxian. Seth takes a jumping step back, reading his axe for another enemy while Devon spins away, neatly sliding his thrown gladius free from the other Noxian's neck. All of this happens in maybe five seconds, and I'm left stunned.

That's when I dimly realize who Seth had to train him in weapons, and that Devon grew up surviving by any means necessary with nobody to look out for him.

I expected my friends to barely hold their own, but Fairfax's protege and Devon's deadly instinct are an equal match for the soldiers trained to fight in large combat, not brawls in close quarter tunnels. These Noxian elites are no duelists or assassins, just bruisers meant to aid each other and wear down the enemy, taking advantage of mistakes only when weariness settles into their opponents.

Seth and Devon have exclusively trained in duels, and they won't tire easily.

The rest of the Noxians stop in their tracks, and I see flickers of hesitation in their stances as they eye up my two friends, each now painted in a fine mist of blood. Gentle steam rises from Seth's axe blade and Devon's gladius, a steady drip of crimson falling from both onto the floor.

"If Noxus wins," Seth snarls suddenly, snapping me from my stupor. "We do it fairly, not by some underhanded scheme. This is your chance to leave if you really believe in Noxian honor and power, so I suggest you take it."

None of the Noxians move, and I force myself to snap my attention back to my spell. I close my eyes, focusing inward as I reach out to the power inside and around me.

My magic responds as it always does, glowing with eager obedience as I begin to draw on it. Even without directly tapping into the ley lines yet, the air around me still crackles with energy waiting to be used, and I take advantage of that, drawing it into myself through my fingertips.

Seth and Devon just killed two Noxian elites. The very fact that they are capable of taking them on like that is insane, but that's not even half of it. They did it to protect me.

So I owe it to them to at least try to save their lives.

No matter the cost.

So I draw on the only other magic besides combat magic that I've avoided since the day Kor died.

I call out my ice magic, and the second I do, the cold flash-freezes the magic in my veins.

The mana snaps into an icy clarity, and I don't have to open my eyes to know my next breath forms mist in the air, my skin prickling with an oddly comfortable chill. I reach my mind out with this power to the ritual spell, calling out for more power.

Blinding light and pain flashes through my mind, and I almost fall down as I suddenly become aware of the power in Ionia's ley lines. It's a wildfire of pure magic, something that rages against order and control. It's a literal force of nature, and just feeling its existence is enough to earn it's unhindered wrath.

I direct the energy through the ritual spell I've created, and the pressure doesn't so much disappear as it becomes bearable, coursing through the ground beneath my feet in a well of power that makes my muscles numb from the constant vibration of magic in the air.

I open my eyes only to see a nimbus of glowing light filling the tunnel, the entirety of the symbol around me glowing with iridescent light. Frost has formed on my skin, and each breath forms mist in the air. Water on my eyelashes has frozen into tiny crystals, turning my vision into a field of sparkles glittering in the light.

Keeping the power flowing through the ritual spell is fairly simple. It's a lot like opening a floodgate, in a way, and I only need to be aware that it should be open to keep it that way. My own power being summoned up is slightly harder, but I have a lot of practice in that, so all in all it doesn't require too much concentration, just a lot of will.

Which is why I'm clearly able to see what's going on in front of me.

The fighting seems to have resumed, but the Noxians seem to have learned from their brethrens' mistake. Instead of rushing without care, they attack in waves, taking turns battling Seth and Devon and switching out when they need breaks. There's a few scratches in the armor of Seth and Devon, and sweat covers their brows as they battle in a dance of blades and fury.

Even as I watch, taking a moment to prepare myself, Seth lets out a shout and dashes forward to hit a retreating Noxian with a one-handed blow of his axe. The Noxian soldier keeps backing up, giving a weak slash with sword to make Seth back off, but he doesn't.

Instead of dodging backwards, he stops the Noxian's blade with his bare hand.

His left hand snaps out, grabbing the blade's edge, and I almost let out a scream as my concentration wavers. Stopping a Ionian blade, one keen enough to cut through a falling strand of hair isn't possible without steel armor. Seth's leather clad hand won't stand a chance.

There's a shout behind me, and a sudden scroll comes flying past my head, burning up in green fire before it touches the ground. Molly's spell condenses the aura already in place around Seth, enhancing it to become a barrier, and the blade stops against his armor with a hiss of burning air and angry red light. Seth's axe bites down, driving deep into the shoulder of the retreating Noxian, and a spray of blood shoots out from the wound followed by a scream.

Seth backs up as quickly as he went in, but the Noxians try to take advantage of his overextension, two rushing at him with their swords.

Devon sees this and breaks off from the one Noxian he is fighting with, diving in front of Seth with both blades raised. A furious storm of sparks and flashing steel echoes through the tunnel as Devon somehow manages to keep up with two separate attackers at once, his blades whispering in the air, always deflecting just in the nick of time.

That is, they deflect every blade but the one he turned his back on.

The Noxian soldier Devon was originally fighting stabs at his back in a lunge, a crimson aura engulfing his blade with hate and rage. The empowered sword screams and crackles through the air as the blade point dives towards the small of Devon's back, an unstoppable force determined to draw blood.

Seth, having spun away from Devon's dance of death and moving to take Devon's spot as they essentially switched sides of the tunnel, decides to not even try parrying the blow away from Devon.

Seth just raises his axe, shadows wrapping around him as magic sparks in an onyx fire within his eyes and around his axe. With violent speed and serpentine grace, he brings it down at just the right moment to sever the Noxian's hands at the wrists.

The blade aimed at Devon's back sputters as its aura dies out, and a simple adjustment of Devon's back sends the blade skidding of his leather armor, severed hands spraying blood as it ricochets into the wall. Seth kicks the shocked stunned and now handless Noxian back as he starts to panic, blood spitting from his two stumps in steady drizzle of scarlet.

The panicked Noxian bumps into one of the two Noxian's fighting Devon, and because of the close quarters the two decided to engage in, it ends up stumbling both of them. Devon takes advantage, blades blurring in wicked cuts.

One gets stabbed in the crook of his left arm, and a steady stream of arterial blood explodes onto the floor as he blinks in surprise. The other gets a slash that cuts his face from his jaw to his eye, soaking half his face in gore as his eye and part of his skull are bisected.

Suddenly there's two more mortally wounded and panicking Noxians stumbling backwards, one trying to stop from bleeding out, one grasping his face, and another screaming as he looks at where his hands should be. There's more red than blue on their uniforms now, painting them their true colors.

It doesn't look real. Something about seeing someone maimed and even killed in front of you just… it doesn't seem like it could be happening. It's revolting and unnatural, and it makes me want to throw up.

The Noxians behind their comrades react in a much different manner.

There's a sudden glint of steel, and the handless and one-eyed Noxian stop their screaming as their heads roll from their shoulders.

Their heads sail slightly through the air before hitting the ground, their limp, decapitated bodies following moments later. The remaining Noxian, the one bleeding out and clutching his arm tight to his body, pales, slumping against the wall and out of the way as someone steps forward, a legitimate katana held in his hand. He wears the same Ionian armor as the rest, but only a hood and shadows cover his face, and even as I watch, the shadows slip away.

My jaw drops as Zerick Ashford, the man who administered my "aptitude test" steps forward, stopping just short of Devon and Seth. His gaunt features seem sharper and more cruel than the last time I met him.

"Fools," his raspy voice mumbles. "Never underestimate your opponent. You should have waited for our mages to arrive before engaging two opponents being supported by one themselves. I knew I should have pushed for trained assassins and not a bunch of wild soldiers…"

He trails off, squinting through the shimmering aura of light around me, and I can see him trying to place me for a moment before he blinks in surprise.

"You!" he hisses. "Fairfax's pawn! The one that helped him rob me of my spot here at the academy!"

He looks to Seth and Devon, both of which have started panting now, a fine layer of speckled blood covering them both.

"And these must be your friends then?" he rasps, a slow smile creeping onto his face. "How fortunate. They seem quite talented, as well."

He shifts his stance taking in a deep breath as he turns sideways towards the two, pointing his katana over his head at the space inbetween. As he exhales, a sudden and sharp smell of copper hits me, and I see a fiery green aura surround him, bits of viridian lightning running across his blade with sickening pops and crackles.

"Come then," he says, smile growing. "Let me show you boys what a true Noxian elite looks like."

Seth turns his head just enough to look at me with one eye, and I can't hide the fear in my eyes. I see his face narrow, his fist clenching his axe tighter as he turns back to Zerick, hefting his weapon up in preparation. Devon follows suit, flipping one blade into an underhanded grip before beginning his stalk forward at Zerick. The auras around both of them intensify, and I hear another scroll behind me burst into flames, Molly enhancing her scroll magic once again to help them fight Zerick.

Complete and utter dread washes over me as I realize it won't matter.

The first Noxians to enter must have been the least experienced, a common tactic used by Noxus to wear down the enemy before the veterans arrived. As far as I knew, none of them even used any magic in their fights against Seth and Devon. I know Molly has a scroll of magic activated to silence the area they fight in, but stopping magic in that big of an area is difficult, and any Noxian actually skilled in magic, like Zerick, would pierce through it with relative ease.

Zerick was an important enough Noxian to administer the magical aptitude tests, which speaks volumes about his skill and importance. Void, he could be on par with Sadon if not stronger.

And Seth and Devon are about to fight with him.

Even two on one, this is something they can't win, and judging by the grim determination I saw on Seth's face, both of them know that.

So I reach into the energy beneath me, and at the speed of thought, I put together a spell like I've never tried before.

I submerge myself, connecting the ritual spell containing the inferno of ley line magic, and connect it to the frozen reserve within me. I let myself become a conduit, simply letting the raging magic flow through me instead of controlling it. It sets makes my bones and muscles tremble, a sudden explosion of pure energy flowing through me. No human body was meant to contain this much magic, and I can feel it as my flesh begins to slowly disintegrate, my organs struggling to stay active as the force of the spell threatens to make me simply disappear.

I don't care though.

Because I'm not going to let my friends die.

No matter what.

So, I force the energy to work for me. Instead of trying to bend it to my will, I simply push it in certain directions, letting the fire consume everything in it's path as it fills the runes and sigils I've carved into the floor around me.

With the runes empowered and waiting, I raise my hand and open my eyes as I gather my will for one pure purpose.

"Numb," I command simply, and I let my frozen intent consume the energy flowing through me, directing all of it out in a space between my friends and Zerick.

There's a crackling roar of sound as the air itself freezes, a wall of crystalline ice suddenly consuming the space between us and our enemies, growing in thickness and depth with each passing moment. Seth and Devon have to jump back as ice starts to arc out into the air near them, even more space being turned to ice even as they retreat.

The cracking noise stops as suddenly as it came, and it leaves behind a wall of ice that is a few meters thick. The ice itself is a deep purple, and oddly enough, strands of an ink black darkness color the ice, staining it with vein-like lines that undulate in the light. Frost fills the tunnel, and every carving around me is filled with more purple-black ice.

Exhaustion and pain slam into me as I pry myself from the spell, falling to my knees. My ears ring and vision blurs as I struggle to stay conscious, gritting my teeth as hard as I can. The gently humming of the ritual symbol beneath me, still powering my spell, threatens to lull me to sleep, but…

There's still work to be done.

So I give myself three seconds. Three seconds of deep breaths and closed eyes, and then I tell my muscles to let me stand up. They respond, but only barely, my body stiff and throbbing with slight waves of pain.

My friends look at me with mixed expressions of awe and fear, and I don't blame them. Frost covers my skin, and my clothes frozen stiff. I brush off the frost and smooth out the cloth, running my hands through my hair to quickly free the frozen icicle strands.

"That's not…" Molly murmurs looking between the ice wall and me with awe. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say, my breath noticeably coming out as white mist. "Just… had to improvise. Creating a barrier of pure magical energy wasn't possible in the time frame, so…"

I gesture, to the wall of ice.

"Ta-dah."

"Won't they be able to just dig through it?" Molly asks, and I shake my head.

"My ritual symbol is designed to keep refreezing the same area," I say, gesturing to the wall. "And besides…"

I walk next to the wall, setting my bare hand against the ice. It feels intensely cold on my skin but not unpleasant, sort of like a cool wind in the summer or a soft rain on a humid day.

"This wall," I say, inspecting the ice closely. "Is cold enough to give whoever touches it instant frostbite. The sheer amount of cold contained within this ice is going to make it continue to grow and freeze the air even without my ritual sending more ley line energy into it."

I look back to my friends, and that's when I notice them all shivering, their arms wrapped around themselves, and a pang of disgust echoes through me.

"Sorry," I say, walking quickly back towards the cafeteria, muttering the last part to myself. "I forgot that I'm the only freak here…"

None of them seem to hear it, or if they do, they don't comment, and we step from the now icy confines of the tunnel back into the cafeteria. I let them sit down at the empty tables, resting for a moment. The blood on Seth and Devon is frozen and dried now, and they have to put effort into wiping it off their weapons, not even bothering getting any off themselves.

After we've rested for a minute, I stand up from the table slowly. My muscles ache from channeling so much power, and I'm sure I would be much more exhausted if it weren't for the constant fear fueled adrenaline coursing through me.

"Right," I sigh. "Let's get to Xander and make sure he's doing okay."

The other's nod, and I lead them on a jog through the academy's second sub-level.

We explored it yesterday, getting to know it's layout and finding the storage area where the second tunnel was burrowed into. Finding the hole was easy, figuring out how to close it, however… well, the tunnel was just as fortified against magic as the main one, and it's not like I can set up two sealing spells at once.

So we decided on going with a more mundane solution.

We get to the hallway, a door leading to a stairway on one end and the storage room on the other. The storage room is fairly large and empty except for Xander, kneeling next to the entrance and fiddling with something.

He gives a little jump when we enter, his large brass goggles and white lab coat making him stand out in the dimly lit room. Xander looks at us with concern for a moment until he sees Molly, and then he visibly relaxes.

"You almost got it?" I ask, breathlessly, leaning against a wall as a muscle spasm in my leg takes my balance.

"Yeah," Xander nods, still tinged with wariness. "How did it go on your end?"

"A few complications," I sigh, closing my eyes. "But nothing we couldn't…"

I trail off, eyes snapping open again as I hear the sound of sprinting footsteps echoing down the tunnel. Come on. They weren't supposed to arrive so quickly. This was supposed to be a more out of the way tunnel route to take!

"It's alright," Xander says as he notices my panic, holding up a small metal device gleefully. "They won't even know what hit them."

The device has a lever of some sort along with two metal rods sticking from the top of it, and Xander presses down on the lever hard, covering his head and turning his back on the tunnel.

The plan was simple: Me and the other three hold off and seal the main tunnel with magic while Xander set up bombs in the other tunnel, bombs he made yesterday in the lab. With both tunnels closed, the Noxian soldiers would be forced to go through on the surface, something I doubt they would do, but even if they did, it would take them precious time. Meanwhile, we make it down to the summoning level and stop my brother. He'll have to get through the League guards and the arbiter of the match to interfere, which would buy us some time to stop him before it's too late.

That was the plan.

So when Xander presses the lever on his device, and nothing happens save for a small hiss of sputtering smoke from it, I blink.

Xander stares in absolute horror at the contraption, and then he starts pressing the lever over and over again, producing only small clicks of metal on metal.

"No, no, no," Xander starts shaking his head quickly. "Work!"

"Plan B," Seth says, stepping forward. "We hold them off here while Xander fixes his device."

"You don't understand!" Xander sputters. "It should be-"

He stops, eyes darting around as he solves unseen calculations. Then he stands up, looking at us.

"I can fix this!" Xander says quickly, licking his lips. "I can! I have to. Just… stay here while I reconfigure the bomb! I'll run back out and blow it behind me!"

Xander looks down the tunnel and hesitates for a moment, the barest hints of glinting metal at the far end.

"Oh to void with it," he murmurs, turning around and swiftly grabbing Molly.

He pulls her close and kisses her, holding her tight, joy for my friend fluttering inside me.

Xander pulls from the kiss after a few quick seconds, eyes sparkling dimly with a content smile on his face. Molly looks stunned, her face flushed, and she blinks a few times, trying to regain her composure. Xander turns before she can though, though, and sprints into the tunnel.

For the briefest moment, dread takes the place of my joy as my instincts scream that something isn't right, so I take a step to stop him. I hesitate for the briefest of moments, though, trying to figure out why I'm suddenly trying to stop him, and before I can make up my mind he's out of reach. The white-haired boy sprints down the tunnel, towards a group of elite killers emerging from the shadows in the distance, and he does it with a speed I've never seen from him before, a satisfied grin on his face the whole way.

It's a dangerous game. If Xander is too slow, the Noxians will get to him and kill him. If Xander takes too long reconfiguring the bomb, the Noxians will cut him down. If Xander reconfigures the bomb but doesn't run back fast enough…

Xander gets to the bomb just the shape of Zerick Ashford and a half dozen other armored soldiers appears from the darkness, sprinting at full speed. They're maybe forty yards from Xander, and they whip their blades out in a deadly chorus of singing steel.

And that's when I realize what my instincts were trying to tell me:

Xander's not going to make it.

The Zaunite boy slowly turns his head back towards us, but there's no fear or surprise on his face. There's only a smile, one of pure content, as he lowers the brass goggles over his eyes, giving a wink just before they're covered.

Oh stars.

Xander was never planning on outrunning the Noxians.

Xander turns, holds up the device, and presses down on the lever hard, arcs of lightning leaping between the two metal rods. Then he turns it, and jams it directly into the bomb attached to the wall.

There's a flash of light and a wave of sound makes me stumble back, my ears ringing as the ground and air is torn asunder in an explosion of emerald fire. The tunnel seems to let out a low, coughing moan as it falls in on itself, dust and shrapnel rolling down the tunnel and blasting out the entrance. Dust chokes the air and my lungs, obscuring my vision as my eyes water, trying to adjust to the sudden darkness.

The only thing I hear while I wait for the dust to clear is a loud ringing sound, my oddly calm heartbeat breaking it into numb, measured beats.

Thump-thump.

The air begins to clear, and I walk forward in the silent world, towards the tunnel.

Thump-thump.

Molly kneels near the start of the rubble marking what used to be the tunnel entrance. She's rummaging through her bags of scrolls with a frantic speed, throwing some onto the ground and almost tearing others as she looks for something. I can see her mouth moving, but no sound reaches me.

Thump-thump.

The air clears enough for me to see what Molly is kneeling in front of.

Thump.

A body lies at the entrance, one that was pushed clear from the rubble by the proximity and force of the explosion

Thump.

It's clothing is charred black, only a few scraps of white cloth remaining untouched.

Thump.

It's missing its right arm and leg.

Thump.

Pieces of rocky shrapnel impale the body in a dozen places, a pool of dark blood already forming on the ground beneath it.

Thump.

Xander's corpse is unmoving, his eyes mercifully hidden beneath cracked goggles so I don't have to see the stillness. A ghost of a smile remains on his face beneath the burned and cracked flesh, small trails of smoke rising slowly.

It's not real. It can't be real. No, this is another dream, another memory-dream. Xander couldn't die like this. He ran too fast, it can't be real. He was going to fix the bomb and run back, not be a hero. He wouldn't do this. He can't. He's Xander. He can't die.

I look slowly down at my hands, at how still they are, and that's when I realize I'm not dreaming.

"We have to move," I mumble, the words bringing the world back to focus around me.

Seth looks shaken and numb, giving an absent nod while still staring at Xander's body. Devon is completely expressionless, and he turns and begins moving towards the stairs with unshaken purpose. Molly hears my words, and looks up at me quickly, eyes more fierce than I've ever seen before.

"No," Molly states. "I can save him! I just need to find it! It's got to be in here somewhere! I know there's a scroll in here, there has to be! I can fix this! Just go without me!"

"Molly…" I whisper, tears falling as I look at the corpse of my friend

"I can save him!" She screams, looking to me.

I look into her face, contorted with loss, rage, and sorrow, and I close my eyes slowly before giving her a nod.

"If anyone can," I say, putting every ounce of power I can behind the words. "It's you."

Molly blinks, surprised for all of a half second before she goes back to searching through the scrolls scattered on the floor.

I turn my back on Xander's corpse and Molly's tears, and I move away, not because I want to but because I need to. I leave, my walk quickly turning into a sprint when I reach the stairs, descending with blinding speed.

Xander…

I want to cry, scream, to somehow get rid of this guilt burying my soul, but there isn't time for that. Xander died, and it's my fault. That's just something I have to live with right now. We may have closed both tunnels, but none of that matters if Zane gets through the League guards on his own.

So I swallow my sorrow, and I sink into that cold place within, the place I've belonged in for so long.

By the time we reach the bottom of the stairs, the three of us are out of breath, and I take a second to rest, leaning against the stairwell.

"Aria," Seth whispers softly, his presence bringing some comfort to me. "Are you… it's going to be alright. Molly will save him."

"Yeah," I lie, images of my friend's mutilated body flashing through my mind. "I know."

"So we keep going," Seth says, kneeling down to level his face with mine. "It's what Xander wants. If we don't his pain will have been for nothing."

It's what Xander wanted. If we don't his death will have been for nothing.

I don't correct Seth. I just nod, and gather myself.

I knew this could happen, and so did they. Xander chose to help me. What we're doing is about more than us, and we all knew that coming in. If I stop now, there will have been no point in our efforts. If I quit, Noxus wins, and Xander will still be dead.

I swallow the bile gathering in my mouth, stand up straight, and start walking briskly towards the door. Seth and Devon follow, each with their own version of numb determination, and we walk into the lowest level of the academy together.

It's dark.

The level is shaped like an "H," and we enter on the opposite side we usually do, coming on on the left lower "leg". Each section of the hallway is long, filled with only a few doors on each side that lead to cavernous rooms. The bridge in the middle between the two long parallel hallways is also long, but there's only one door on either side that leads to huge summoning rooms, ones I'm sure are in use right now.

So we walk down the hallway, waiting for it to open up on our right side so we can warn the League guards. As we get near, the sound of voices gently wafts to us, growing in strength and coming from the corner we need to turn. Something sets my nerves on edge, and my muscles tense up. There's another sound, but I can't quite make it out. I can feel the nearby presence of a spell made to muffle and quiet sound. The League must have set up a spell to quiet noise around the two summoning rooms, but I still make out two distinct voices as we walk into its outer threshold.

"-still hard to believe," one says.

"Yeah, well," another says almost dismissively. "He's not our job."

Two figure wearing armored blue robes turn the corner, and they almost trip in surprise. The two League guards are young, both only in their mid to late twenties, and I can see the uncertainty in their eyes as they see us, three armed students covered in dust and blood only a few feet away from them.

"Don't worry," I say quickly, raising empty hands even as they draw swords. "We're just making sure no one has interfered with the match."

They look us over slowly, seeing the dust, soot, and blood, and after glancing at each other, they lower their weapons, still not sheathing them.

"What do you mean?" one asks suspiciously.

"Look," I say, lowering my hands slowly. "The head of security here, Captain Fairfax, is going to come down and explain everything. We're just here to make sure that nobody was attacking."

Both of them look at each other again, but one gives a shrug, stepping towards us.

"Look," he says, gesturing to the door with his sword. "There hasn't been anyone down here besides you. I'm going to have to ask you to leave at least until this captain of yours is here to tell us otherwise."

"That's fine," I say, a sigh of relief escaping me. "That's great, I mean. Just, if an Ionian does come, one besides me, I can stop him without bloodshed so just call for me."

"Right…" the guard says suspiciously, gesturing with his sword again. "You need to get going."

I give a nod, turning on my heel to leave. Even as I do, something nags at the back of my mind.

I didn't see Zane with the other Noxian soldiers, so he should already be in the academy. By all accounts, he should be here right now, fighting past these guards to disrupt the match. So if he's not here, where is he?

That's when I see Seth, squinting at the guard like he looks familiar, and I take one quick look back. As I turn my head, though, Seth's eyes widen, and I see his mouth move to let out a shout of warning.

My head turns just enough to see the League guard coming at me, his sword racing down towards my head, and I suddenly realize what was making me feel so tense:

Small flecks of blood spatter the wall around the corner, and the supposed "League" guards have fresh spots on their boots.

The Noxians and my brother have already been here, and these aren't the actual guards.

The glinting steel of a broadsword blinds me as I try to desperately throw myself out of the way, knowing I won't make it in time. The imposter's aim is true, and it comes soaring down at my head like an executioner's axe. I see the razor-edged sword slice through the space between me and my head, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

That doesn't stop me from trying.

I let myself fall, pulling myself backwards and bending my knees to fall on them even as my back bends the opposite way. It's just not enough, though, and I brace myself for the merciless steel to slice through my nose to the bottom of my jaw.

The broadsword stops an inch from my face, an explosion of shrieking light condensing into a dome inches from my face, blinding me briefly. The blade bounces off, and the light simply fades out of existence as fast as it came, leaving only blinding spots of color across my vision. I try to regain my balance, and manage to only stumble backwards, my heart screaming as I try to process what to do next.

The fake League guard who tried to attack me steps back out of reach, returning to his friend. Seth and Devon both take steps forward, weapons raised and ready to protect me as I regain my balance. The two guards seem to hesitate, trying to figure out how their ambush failed so miserably.

There's a space between the two pretenders, the one that attacked me still stepping backwards to catch up to his more cautious friend who is still inching back away from us. As my attacker takes another step backwards, someone just appears next to him with absolutely zero warning, no fading into view or flash of light. The air is empty, and then it suddenly isn't.

A girl wearing the uniform of our academy with medium-length black hair, a cute face, and intelligent blue eyes pops into existence. Molly's friend, Ann, holds a simple wooden rod in one hand and a sharp butcher's knife in the other, crouched to the side of the man, just out of his sight. As the guard steps back, Ann, on his opposite side, slips the knife between plates of armor and into his side.

The guard's eyes widen in surprise, sword moving on instinct, and he slashes towards Ann. As soon as she draws the knife from him, though, she disappears again, and the blade whistles through empty air. The guard blinks, and then lets out a groan, pressing his left hand to his side as blood starts gushing out.

He favors his left side heavily, leaning down slightly, and Ann appears into existence again, just long enough to slash open the side of his neck before she vanishes. There's a surprised gurgle from the guard, and then he collapses in a clatter of steel.

The remaining imposter looks in wide eyes as his friend is systematically assassinated in front of him in the span of two seconds, searching for the assailant wildly. As his ally falls, his courage melts away, and he turns, sprinting away from us.

Before I can so much as shout, Ann reappears in front of us, flicking her wooden wand at the guard in something akin to contempt. A comet of scorching white light blasts from the wand, a sharp and high pitched screech echoing as it flies towards the fleeing man. When it hits him, the light seems to wrap around him, forming a circular cage that stops him in his tracks. He begins to scream as the intense light superheats the air, his skin and armor melting. He tries to move out of the circle, but the light is like a solid wall of heat, disintegrating whatever it comes into contact with including his flesh.

A small shudder runs through Ann as she raises her wand, spinning the rod in a smooth circle as power gathers around it, light swirling into a an orb just in front of her outstretched wand.

"Finales," Ann whispers, looking away.

There's a screech of gathering energy, and then a solid beam of light ignites the very air for a split second, the ground beneath it scorching black. The flash of contained light burns a path of rainbow color across my vision, and for the brief moment it goes through the guard, his bones becoming visible in the beam.

I blink, the smell of burned flesh and ozone filling my nostril. As I look through my watering eyes, I see only boots left from the guard, the only thing untouched from the beam of light. They lay on the floor, scorched black even as gentle flames continue burning on the stumps of flesh left behind.

Ann slowly turns around with a grim expression, letting out a sigh.

"You," I say, as I realize who Ann actually is. "A Demacian spy, Molly'd handler… void it's in your name. Your full name. Ann. Anna. Lu-"

"Why," the girl interrupts before I can finish. "I simply don't know what you're talking about."

She flicks her hand, and her features seem to change. No, that's not quite right, it's more like my vision of her features becomes clearer, details changing. The color of her hair turns to a bright blond, and her face becomes more defined and somehow softer. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me standing in disbelief. I didn't even sense the magic concealing her features it was so subtle.

"For all you know, I'm just a big fan," Ann says with a wink, and I swallow, not quite sure what to do. "I mean, she's not the only light mage out there, and if something worked so well for Demacia once-"

"Why fix what's not broken," I murmur, not bothering to hide my doubt. "Right."

She smiles widely, a distinct giggle coming from her. Seth and Devon both seem as unsure as I do, both standing perfectly still as a Champion of the League of Legends, or, at least, one posing as one with undeniable authenticity smiles.

Ann looks past us with a frown, eyes flicking back to me.

"Where's Molly?" She asks, her voice suddenly urgent, snapping me from my stupor.

"Second sub-level," I answer on instinct, guilt biting at me quickly afterwards. "We closed both of their holes into the academy, but… Xander… she's trying to save him."

Her face pales, but she manages a nod, tilting her head towards the summoning room.

"Molly told me what was going on," Ann sighs. "Demacia thought something was going on, but this… being this bold..."

She shakes her head.

"Look, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you were right, about everything. That includes some Noxians and your brother being hidden in the academy."

My numb guilt turns back into worry, and I find my hands shaking.

"They bolted right over here the second the match started," Ann says quickly. "I alerted your friend Fairfax, and he's down there right now guarding the door. He took care of the Noxians, but your brother managed to slip through. You'd better hurry."

I start running towards the corner, turning back only as an afterthought.

"What about you?" I shout, still running.

"I've got to protect Molly!" she shouts back.

"But-"

"I'm sorry!" Ann says, sprinting towards the door. "But she's my priority! Besides, only you can stop this now!"

I grit my teeth in frustration, partly because I know she's right. If Zane is already in there interfering with the match, I'm the only one who could possibly convince the League official, the Arbiter, that Ionia had nothing to do with this. It has to be me, an Ionain, who stops him. It's the only chance.

I round the corner with Seth and Devon on my heels, and I almost slip as I see the bodies. Almost a dozen disguised Noxians lie in the corridor, the walls and floor painted with blood. Fairfax stands in the middle of the carnage, silver sword drawn, and his eyes flick to us as we appear with a cold malice.

His expression clears as soon as he recognizes it's us, his lips quirking up into a small smile. As I get near him, I see a long cut in his left arm's wrist armor that bisects the metal all the way into his flesh, coating his hand in blood. I look up into his eyes with alarm, but he just shakes his head.

"Couldn't stop him without hurting him," Fairfax says gruffly. "He took advantage, just like I taught him."

"You taught my brother bladework?" I ask, catching my breath.

"The year after," Fairfax nods. "He's at least as good as Seth."

I let out a breath of air. Great. This just keeps getting better and better.

"Wait," I say, eyes widening. "He cut you?"

"I tried to explain what was really going on," Fairfax shrugs. "But… I don't know, something felt off about him, like my words weren't registering. Maybe he was just told not to trust me, but… you should be careful, Aria. He may not be the brother you think he is anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I shoot back.

"It means that you need to be careful," Fairfax growls back somehow softly. "They might have done something to him, and if they did you have to figure that out and undo it. Seth and Devon will help me hold off any reinforcements that come, but by now, the arbiter has seen that an Ionian is trying to disrupt the match. You can do this, Aria, but you need to hurry."

I give a uncertain nod, looking towards the door.

Behind it, my brother is doing his best to "save" me. I should have realized that the Noxians wouldn't wait to initiate their plan. Now, though, everything hinges on the League Arbiter believing the story, and me stopping my brother before he sabotages the match for more than a few moments. Hopefully the Arbiter held him off long enough, or even stopped him, but if I'm too late…

My hands and lip tremble, each breath coming out with the intensity of blacksmith's hammer, beating my nerves into liquid fear as I feel myself begin to melt.

"Aria," Fairfax says, my attention snapping back to him. "Breathe."

I bite back a heated response, grinding my teeth together instead. I don't have time to breathe. People are fighting and dying all around me, the fate of thousands of Ionians rests in my hands, and he wants me to breathe? Not realizing the Noxians would attack right away might already have cost me everything. I don't care if I seem tense, if sweat lines my brow and my breaths are shallow and fast. I don't have time to care about myself right now.

But something in Fairfax's voice makes the word a command, and I force myself to listen, something telling me he's right. So I close my eyes and suck in a breath.

"Don't let the momentum of the battle consume you," he says faintly. "Focus on what you need to do right here, right now. Nothing else matters."

I let his words guides me, each deep breath doing its part to slightly relax my muscles, knots and cramps dissipating as I force myself to focus. I need to go in that room and stop my brother. There's no room for guilt or shame or anything else, not right now. No, I can't afford to let anything distract me.

Behind that door is my brother.

My gut twists into knots as I desperately try for the hundredth time to figure out what I'm going to say to him. I know he's been lied to, that he thinks this is the only way, but I have no idea why he thinks he has to do this exactly. All I do know is that I have to stop him. Sadon said he had some sort of hold on Zane, and I only hope it isn't something out of my reach.

So I take one last deep breath, and then I give myself a nod.

I can do this. I have to. "Ifs" don't matter right now, only taking action and hoping it's not too late. So I swallow, adjust my sword sheath, give Fairfax a thankful tilt of my head, and then I walk into the room, quickly closing the door behind me.

The room is cavernous with a towering domed ceiling, a central platform raised above the rest of the floor by a few small steps. In the center of the platform, forming a small circle, are four summoners in deep crimson robes, each hunched over their own summoning orb that floats and sparkles in front of them. A fifth one lies on the floor, his orb clutched to his chest as he looks up at a man in Ionian plate armor with disdain. The man in Ionian plate armor carries a longer katana, an O katana, made of spell-forged steel. He doesn't face the disoriented summoner. Instead, he stares at a man in ornate armored robes, the League appointed Arbiter, who stands with white energy coiled around his arms like serpents waiting to strike.

The second I step into the room, everyone but the four concentrating summoners glances at me, doing a double take. My brother turns to face me so I can more clearly see him, He wears a dark, sleeveless silk shirt and matching thick dark pants covered in deep blue plate armor. His right arm is completely bare except for a fingerless glove, while his left is covered in more of the same blue steel, a gauntlet with talon-like fingers around that hand. His normally short black hair has grown shaggy, and he has a thick stubble around his face.

"A-Aria?" Zane starts. "What are you…"

Zane lowers his sword slowly, attention focused on me, and that's when the arbiter strikes.

The white snaking energy snaps and crackles, moving irregularly through the air in quick, impossibly geometric movements. Zane's head snaps to the Arbiter even as I raise a hand in a vain attempt to stop the magic with a cry of warning. The Arbiter's spell moves with uncanny speed, and I already know there's no way for me to dispel or block it in time.

Zane, who barely has any potential in using magic, stands there, raising his sword and squinting almost as if in annoyance.

The silver snakes wrap around his arms, hands, and feet, trying to bind him, but as they close around him, there's a faint red glow that snaps the energy into shards of glass that fade into the shadows. I stop my shout halfway through, choking on whatever words I was about to say. The Arbiter looks just as shocked as I feel, and Zane moves quickly, taking advantage. He rushes the arbiter, aiming to cut him down in one fluid slice.

This time I'm ready, and I throw the same spell I was preparing to protect Zane now to stop him. As Zane raises his sword high above his head, slicing it down with cruel finality a moment later, I reach out, creating a simple barrier of air around the Arbiter. It wraps around the blade, creating a miniature vortex, and it throws Zane stumbling backwards.

Zane turns his head, looking at me in confusion, and I raise my hands, walking towards him slowly.

"Zane, you need to stop," I say, stopping just in front of him. "Just… stop."

"Aria, there's no time," Zane shouts. "This is our chance to free Ionia! If we interrupt the match enough-"

"The League will overthrow the match," I interrupt softly, "and the Noxians will be given the victory."

He looks at me as if I'm crazy, shaking his head quickly.

"No, this is their academy!" Zane argues. "They are responsible for the security here so the League will assume it was some sort of ploy on their end!"

"They won't, Zane," I say quietly, desperately trying to reason with him. "Because the League Arbiter here sees an Ionain doing it, not to mention the Noxian summoner you just pulled out."

"They won't say anything, little sis," Zane says with a raised eyebrow. "Not if we kill them."

Bile fills my mouth even as the bottom of my stomach drops out, my heart pounding in the hollowness. The summoner and Arbiter have been quiet up until now, but I can see both tense up at that. Both of them are careful not to move, or, at least, not when Zane is looking. I catch the summoner slowly sliding back to the circle with the others. I give him a small nod, urging him to continue even as I start shifting my position to turn Zane away from him.

I don't know what, but something is very wrong with Zane. Fairfax was right. They did something to him. I swallow, desperately running through possibilities as I try to figure out how to unravel their deceptions.

"I know you don't like it," he smiles sadly. "But it's the only way to save everyone including you. It's time to fight back, Aria, to make them pay for what they've done to you. To everyone."

He reaches out with his left hand, placing it on my shoulder in an attempt at comfort. I can almost feel the tense anger radiating off him. No, it's more like fury, building on itself. It's intense enough to make me pull away, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Zane…" I push gently. "If you kill them, we will lose. It's part of their plan."

"What are you talking about?" Zane asks skeptically. "The rebel who planned this is a genius. I mean, did you know that the Noxians have been slaughtering them daily? Yet he still was able to get us this far, but if we back out now, there won't be any soldiers left for another attempt."

"That rebel you've been working with is a Noxian."

Zane looks confused for a moment, then he starts shaking his head quickly.

"No, that's not-"

"He's one of the teachers here at the academy," I insist, his hand slowly dropping from my shoulder. "He's been planning this for a long time, and part of that plan is to kill you and leave your body to be found so Ionia gets in trouble."

Zane's breathing picks up, his hands starting to shake. I can see it in his eyes, the doubt as he goes over every conversation he had, trying to find the truth.

"Think," I try for the final push. "How could he possibly get you in here if he wasn't Noxian? How did he know so much about what was going on? Zane, they used me and the idea that you could save everyone against you."

Zane looks down at the ground, thinking hard, and I take that moment to give a little hand gesture to the Noxian summoner to reconnect the game. He gives me an uneasy nod, and that's when I recognize him. He's one of the more famous summoners from Noxus, his summoning handle being Poisonidon. I swallow, hoping that having someone as important as him missing from the match didn't upset it too much.

"You're wrong."

My vision snaps back to Zane. He has a hand clutched to his chest, clutching at something underneath his shirt. A faint red glow emanates from his hand, and I can feel an odd magic coming from whatever he holds, feeding my emotions and making them stronger.

"Did you ever stop to think he could be a traitor?" Zane spits, looking at me with sudden, unusually hostile intensity. "It's the nature of Noxians, after all. It doesn't matter why he's helping us, just that he is helping us. He probably wants revenge on another Noxian or something. So why are you still trying to stop me?"

My eyes trail back to his glowing, clasped hand, and horror floods over me.

"Zane," I whisper very, very slowly. "What are you holding onto?"

He looks down at his hand and then smiles, reaching under his shirt and pulling out two necklaces. One is a silver cross identical to mine but with a small emerald in the middle, and the other is five metal lines crossing each other to form a five-pointed star set within a circle, a symbol that universally represents the four elements and the soul being bound within human will. A pentagram necklace. It's commonly misunderstood as a symbol of evil, but to mages, it's the symbol of magic at its most basic forms. Small symbols glowing crimson line the black metal star and circle, and they whisper with power and fury.

My horror and fear only grows as I begin matching the symbols to what I've read. Enhancement, deception, and subversion mixed with rage, protection, and courage. Oh void, it all makes sense now. That amulet around his neck is pushing his emotions, driving them beyond any rational level. Not only that, but it's feeding off them to provide protection from magic, so every time it's used against him, it drives him further into insanity as he is forced to instantly replace those thoughts of anger.

The necklace is driving Zane to only use his darker emotions, the depth of which I know all too well.

"I was holding onto an amulet that my sister would know about," Zane sneers, holding the cross necklace instead of the other one.

I hurriedly fish mine out too showing him it, but his face only turns a deeper shade of red. Before I can even speak or reason with him, I see the pentagram flash with deep red energy, and my heart echoes through my body.

"I see," He spits, clenching the hilt of his sword tighter. "Just tell me this: is she still alive?"

"What? I'm right he-"

"Liar!" Zane shouts, veins popping out of his forehead. "Imposter! I'm no fool! My sister would never try to stop me! You aren't her! You're just using magic to look like her!"

"Zane that's crazy!" I say slowly, as a nightmare begins to happen in front of my very eyes. "There's no reason to believe th-"

"There's every reason!" Zane seethes, changing his stance, pointing his sword over his shoulder at me. "Because I know my sister, and you aren't her!"

I know it's the amulet whispering lies to him, clouding his thoughts with pure hate.

I know his judgement is clouded.

I know he doesn't mean it.

But that doesn't make it hurt less.

So I do the only thing I can do.

"Keep the summoners safe," I whisper hoarsely at the Arbiter, and I see him nod, his eyes also staring at Zane's glowing amulet. "I'll stop my brother."

I draw my katana, and even when I grip it with both hands, my hands shake fiercely. The second the steel is drawn, I can see something in Zane crack, scarlet lightning suddenly arcing from the amulet as his rage turns into something much, much darker as it reaches whole new levels. Shadows infect his eyes, and I watch as he prepares to kill me.

"That sword," Zane growls, "doesn't belong to you."

And with that, my brother, savior, and one of the only people I love tries to kill me. He's fast, his muscles purely developed for combat, and he uses every movement and action to its full potential. Zane spins his sword in a sharp, visceral motion, and I lose track of its trajectory for a half second. That's all it takes.

The blade settles its course, a swing turned into a stab at my stomach. He aims to make me bleed out quickly. There's no time for planning or thought, so I go with instinct, I reach out to power, my mind easily settling on a familiar spell, one that I've cast hundreds of times before.

Blue energy springs up around me, creating a sapphire painted symbol onto the ground, and golden energy transforms my clothes into heavily armored robes. The blade slams into a heavy plate guarding my side with an eruption of shrill sparks. It slices almost completely through, the force sending an explosion of pain in my chest.

I stumble with the blow, trying to get space between the two of us, but Zane manages to stay in range, taking small, gliding steps as he readjusts his sword. His swings are erratically timed, some coming a few seconds after another while other are thrown immediately afterwards. There's no hesitation in his swings, each slash coming at me with enough force to kill me if I were to miss a single block.

I somehow manage to keep up with the bladework, backpedaling as my arms scream in pain with each shocking blow, his heavier and longer sword leaving a ringing in my katana that echoes in my bones. He pushes me further and further, my parrys becoming more desperate and having less and less of a margin with each passing blow. My arms begin to surrender to exhaustion, and Zane notices, sending an overhead swing with both hands that aims to bisect me.

I block the blow by turning my blade horizontally over my head, my right hand holding the hilt while my left holds the blunt edge of my own katana, trying to evenly distribute the force. It hits me like a hammer, and my legs buckle, forcing me to my knee even as the blade inches closer to cutting into my flesh. I grit my teeth, pushing with all my strength, but it just isn't enough. Zane's sword forces my arms into almost ninety-degree angles, barely stopping his blade from cutting into my right shoulder.

"Zane stop!" I gasp, my head pounding with effort and exhaustion. "Don't do this!"

"You're not my sister!" he roars, putting more weight behind his sword, and it begins scratching into my armor.

My grunts of effort soon turn to whines as the spell-forged steel begins to cut through my armor with a scream of tearing metal. I wasn't made for sword fighting, not with my sickness weakening me so much. It's been all of a dozen seconds of fighting, and Zane's monstrous strength already has my own at its limits. I can't win against him in a straight up physical duel.

So why am I trying to do just that?

I reach down into my mana with desperation, and throw it behind a spell driven solely by my reflex and intent with zero preparation. The only thing that makes my spell work is the fact I've cast it hundreds of times in the past few weeks, making it almost nothing more than an afterthought.

Scarlets energy swirls into a symbol beneath me, and the golden light that follows takes away my armor, replacing it with my light fighting clothes and wrapped hands. The strength armor I developed screams as I shove power into it, and I begin to shove Zane's sword back.

A flicker of surprise crosses Zane's eyes, and I can feel him redoubling his efforts. The sigils around my arm wraps only glow brighter, and I give a shout, shoving Zane backwards and making him stumble as he's lifted slightly from the ground, his sword high above his head. I take a step towards him as he's left completely defenseless for a brief moment, preparing a strike across his belly.

Then I suddenly realize I'm getting ready to kill my brother, and I force myself to stop, ignoring my screaming instincts that this is what needs to be done. Zane recovers, landing back on his feet and bringing himself back into a ready position, slowly backing away from me. His eyes are narrow, and he lets out slow, calm breaths. My arms feel like cotton, and I'm barely able to keep them holding onto my katana. My fingers burn with the numbness of the shocking blows, and my breaths all come out as quick, greedy gasps, sweat soaking my face.

"You're not going to win," Zane says, a slow smile crawling across his face. "Not like this."

"I will stop you," I say back, readjusting my grip. "I won't let you become a Noxian pawn!"

"See?" Zane smirks. "That's why. My real sister once told me that all magic comes with a price. I'm willing to bet that whatever magic you are using to look like her is also making you just as frail."

"I am your sister!" I shout back, actual tears of pain in my eyes.

"Still keeping up with the charade, eh?" Zane shakes his head. "You know, that's another reason why you'll never win. If you keep pretending to be my sister, you can't fight with killing intent, and in a battle of life or death, that's the only thing that can turn the tide. Without that intent, your hesitation and skills aren't enough to beat me, Noxian. That's why you're going to die tonight, and I'm going to win."

I clench my jaw hard. I know he's right, but what am I supposed to do? Kill my brother? There has to be another way. There has to.

"Zane don't make me-"

Before I can even finish, his sword is swinging through the air, aimed at taking off my head. I roll under the blow, jumping backwards when he then continues with a maelstrom slash at my ankles. I barely get out of the way, and his blade slices through the rock floor that sends shrapnel chips at me, making me flinch.

I can't kill him. Even as a piece of granite cuts across my face, a hot stinging line of misplaced anger forming on my cheek. He's not some monster or demon, he just doesn't know what he's doing. How could I kill my own brother?

Even as I dodge his next attacks with desperate, jerky motions, parrying with my blade only when I have to, memories flash through my head. I remember the time he ran through the rain and barged into my class because he forgot I was staying to help tutor Amara and thought I was in trouble. I remember the time he taught me to clean my katana, the gentle patience and steady smile as I took apart my sword for the first time with nervous movements. I remember-

Zane hits my sword hard, and it's all I can do to hold onto it. It opens me up, though, and Zane kicks me hard in the stomach. I'm lifted off my feet as a hammer of agony crushes my lungs, and is skid back a few feet on the ground, rolling onto my hands and knees at the last second.

My vision blurs as I gasp for breath, looking up at Zane through strands of sweat soaked hair. He doesn't follow up on his blow. He just smiles, turning away slowly as I struggle just to stand up again, and he starts a slow and deliberate stalk back to the summoners and arbiter, his back turned to me.

I fight back furious tears and a scream as the arbiter starts throwing more spells at Zane, but each one barely slows him down, dissipating against the protection his amulet offers. He just keeps walking, not even flinching as red and white energies battle around him.

I squeeze my eyes shut, choking back something between a sob and scream.

If I don't stop my brother, a lot of people are going to die in the long run.

If I stop him, one person dies right now.

If I weren't so driven by emotion, the choice would simply be about statistics, but it's more than that. It's about the worth of one life, because to me, if one life has no meaning, then how could thousands? You can't make something out of nothing. Everything has a price…

I look up between strands of hair, tears trailing down my eyes.

I stand up slowly, pushing against the ground with the tip of my sword to hold my weight.

"Don't make me…" I whisper to myself, heart racing.

Zane nears the arbiter, throwing a disdainful swing at his head. The League arbiter is surprisingly nimble, stepping out of the way and quickly backpedaling away, still trying to stop Zane with magic.

"Please…" I whisper again, heart lurching as childhood memories filled with compassion and love race through my mind.

The arbiter finally makes a mistake, stumbling and falling onto the ground when he reaches the edge of the platform. Zane takes slow, measured steps towards him, and I know I can't wait anymore. I have to decide.

I call up power and push it into what was my "ultimate" spell in the League matches.

I never actually told anyone that the only reason it was considered my ultimate was because of how powerful it was. In reality, it was as simple to cast as my other three conjuration spells. The only thing that made it so special was the fact it was so hard to counter.

So violet energy forms in a magic circle around me engraved with runes and sigils, just like all my other conjuration spells, and me clothes writhe and change once more, turning into the black kosode and hakama with all their trappings. The kendo uniform settles on me with uneasy familiarity, and I shift my now sandaled feet, channeling as much power as I can into my uniform.

I look at my brother, his back turned toward me, and I wrap my hands tight around my sword. I know what I have to do, but if I mess up by any margin, Zane or I could easily end up dead. The only thing I can do is trust that Zane will react to my speed the way I expect him to.

If he doesn't, my sword will decapitate him, and I will have killed my brother.

But I can't afford not to try.

So, with all the speed granted to me by my conjured clothes, I blur towards Zane with a scream. My feet fly over the stone floor in what seems like normal speed to me, but everything around me has slowed down. The kinomancy increases my perception and speed to put everything in slow-motion to my senses while still allowing me to move normally. It allows me to rush forward, leaping at Zane with a slice aimed directly at his neck.

He moves sluggishly to my perception, but his instincts start him reacting the second he hears my scream. Zane probably can barely make out my movements, but he still manages to set himself moving, dodging backwards and away from my cut even before I throw it. My blade still cuts through the air, the tip aimed to cut his jugular.

I keep on screaming, forcing myself to follow through with the cut.

Zane's combat intuition and quick reaction, already dodging away from where he thought I would cut is the only thing that saves him. The tip of my katana slices maybe a millimeter from his throat, just missing.

It doesn't miss his necklace.

My sword cuts through the small chain links of both, an angry flash of energy screeching from the broken amulet. My momentum carries me past my brother, skidding across the ground a few feet away from him. I turn, holding my breath as hope flares inside me.

Zane's sword comes down at my unprotected head, and I don't even have time to scream.

The blade hangs in the air for what seems like an eternity, and it takes a few seconds to realize that Zane stopped the blade's edge only a few millimeter from my head. I chance a look up into his eyes, and I see confusion mixed with horror in them. His blade starts trembling, and I slowly reach out a hand, touching the steel and ever so gently pushing it to the side.

"It's me, Zane," I whisper, searching his eyes.

He swallows, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," he whispers back.

Then he pulls his sword away, sheathing it with a jerky motion

Tiredness, hope, joy, and excitement hit me so hard that I can't help but let out a little laugh, tears falling from my eyes even as a sheath my own sword. Zane takes a few quick steps towards me, his lip wobbling, and he wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace. I hug him back, and for once, I don't mind the odd, prickling sensation on my back where Zane's arms wrap around. They don't bother me because it means I won.

I hold my brother tight, my throbbing heart finally starting to heal. Hope and faith fill me, warming my tired limbs and soul as I try not to think about how close I came to killing my own brother.

I pull away from him to see the arbiter staring at us warily, holding the pentagram necklace in his hand with a thoughtful expression.

"This amulet…" he murmers. "I think I have an idea of what's going on here."

"My brother didn't know what he was doing," I say firmly with a nod. "And I can tell you every part of their plan that I know."

"Give me the quick version," the arbiter says, glancing back at the concentrating summoners.

"What about the match?" I ask quickly. "Was the interruption big enough to-"

"No," he interrupts with a small smile. "Moments after Summoner Poisonidon was disconnected, the Ionian team followed their team captain's lead and stopped moving, only killing minions in an attempt to freeze the match as much as possible. The Noxian summoner, of course, followed suit. If the Ionian had done anything else, the match would be void, but as of right now, it stands. That is assuming what I think happened here is in fact what took place."

I let out a sigh of relief. It worked. Somehow it all worked out. Now I just have to make sure the arbiter believes the truth, that Noxus's secret plan gets pulled out into the light.

So I do. I talk, explaining how they set Zane up killing and taking the place of the Ionian rebels, how the amulet clouded his emotions with anger so he wouldn't question anything, how they were going to kill and leave his body so the League would know who was responsible. I tell him everything. He follows along, sometimes interjecting with a questions, but he mostly keeps quiet through my narrative.

"So this whole academy," he says, gesturing around himself. "Was created for the sole purpose of hosting the Ionian and Noxus rematch so they could rig it and assure their own victory?"

"I believe so, yes," I answer. "It explains why they were the ones to challenge Ionia to the rematch so many years early. Not to mention they needed the perfect Ionian candidate, someone who had a personal interest in hurting Noxians, who wouldn't be hard to manipulate with the amulet."

"They brought you to the academy, too, then?" he asks, hints of skepticism edging on his voice.

"No," I say quickly. "I was brought here as a favor from… a friend. He was just trying to look out for me, and he had no way of knowing it would turn Zane into the very person they needed. The Noxians behind all this probably investigated my background when I arrived and turned the situation around to work for themselves."

"This, friend," the arbiter says. "Are you sure you can trust him?"

"Yes," I say with a firm nod. "He helped me get this far and stop all this. He's right outside, keeping Noxians from killing my brother and me right now."

He lets out a grunt, pocketing the amulet in the folds of his robes. There's a long silence, and I can see the calculations in his eyes as he goes over everything in his head. A grunt from the summoners behind him causes him to look quickly away and then back at us, his brow set in a confidant furrow as he nods.

"I believe you," he says, and I let out a sigh of relief. "But nobody can ever know what happened here."

"What do you mean?" I ask, looking up quickly. "How else-"

"If people even think that the League doesn't have one-hundred percent control over every match, people would lose their trust in us. The League was created as a solution to war, so we would never destroy our world with magic, but if people can't trust us to be impartial and fair, then why would they keep letting the League solve their disputes? The second the League is anything less than completely in control as a neutral third party is the second nations begin pulling away."

I clench my teeth hard. I understand what the arbiter is saying, but it still doesn't feel right.

"This era of peace would be shattered before it can even truly begin," he says gently. "And if that were to happen, magic would once again be wielded on a widespread scale for war, and Runeterra won't survive that. We won't survive that."

"But Noxus just gets away with it?" I ask, trying to bite back my anger. "Tampering with a League match is just okay now?"

"Of course not," the arbiter muses. "But only those who created and maintain the League, those with the true power right now, only they can know"

"The RIOTers?" I ask, sarcasm seeping in. "What are they going to do, go to war against Noxus?"

"No," he sighs. "But they will make sure those responsible pay for what they've done. The summoners in red, the RIOTers, are the biggest conglomerate of political and magical power to ever exist. No matter how patient or subtle they must be, I can assure you their vengeance will not let anyone who was a part of this die in anything less than complete suffering and despair."

I shiver at his words. They ring with truth and power, and deep inside I know he's right. The one group that was able to solve war and literally save our world shouldn't be underestimated.

"Alright," I say.

"I'm glad you understand," the arbiter smiles wearily. "So I need you and your brother to round up anyone else on your side who knows about this and wait outside this room until the match is over. Can you do that?"

"Yes," I nod firmly, turning to Zane.

The whole time the arbiter talked with me he remained sitting on the floor with a glazed expression. He looks back at me when I face him, though, and he stands up slowly, his eyes slowly clearing even through the shining tears on his face.

"Let's go," I say, forcing a smile, and he gives a steady nod.

We walk outside of the summoning room, closing the door behind us. Zane looks startled at first by the blood and bodies littering the ground, and I see the cautious tension in his muscles when he spots Seth and Devon.

"It's okay," I hurriedly interject. "They're friends."

He blinks at that, head snapping to me quickly when I say that word. Zane knows I haven't used that word, not since what happened to me. He knows what it means for me to be saying it again, and he doesn't quite relax, but he does relax the grip on his sword slightly.

"Any problems out here?" I ask, turning to Fairfax.

"All quiet," he responds. "You?"

"The match is underway without harm," I smile, one of genuine mirth this time. "And the arbiter believes us."

Fairfax nods, but I can see a troubled look in his eyes. His fingers tap along his sword's pommel nervously.

"What is it?" I ask, my joy fading fast. "What's wrong?"

"I just… I expected Sadon to come here to personally make sure the Noxian plan succeeded."

I open my mouth to give a possible explanation, but nothing comes out as I realize there isn't one. Why would one of the high ranking members of a secret plan not be there to make sure they succeeded? Unless…

"The only reason he wouldn't have shown is if this wasn't their main plan," I exhale quickly.

"Sadon should have showed," Devon agrees. "I expected a few of our other classmates to be with him too."

"The best Noxians don't have a plan, they have plans," I say, getting nods from both Devon and Fairfax.

"Wait," Seth interjects. "What else could their goal possibly be? Everything they've done has been centered around this match, so what could possibly be more important than making sure they win?"

There's a long silence, and I start to pace back and forth, grinding my teeth. I can see Zane trying to recall anything that might help, but I doubt Sadon was stupid enough to give him any real information or hints. After a few tense minutes I let out a sigh, leaning back against the wall with my eyes closed.

"It may just be paranoia," Fairfax says, but even with my eyes closed I can see that he doesn't really believe that.

Although… maybe Fairfax is right. Maybe I just want to believe there is another plan or menace lurking out there because I wouldn't know what to do if there wasn't. Maybe it really is over, and I just can't accept that.

"Yeah," I say half-heartedly. "Maybe."

"Sis," Zane says, and I open my eyes to see him standing in front of me. "You've already done so much. You saved me and who knows how many people by stopping me. You can't take all the world's problems on yourself. There's only so much you can do, and I'd say you've more than done your part. Alright?"

A warmth flutters through my heart, and I give him a nod. I can see the guilt lingering in his gaze, but only because I've worn that look so long myself.

"Okay," I smile back. "But only if you realize that this isn't your fault."

"Yeah," Zane lies, not even blinking. "Of course."

"Zane, I mean it," I push, forcing myself to grab his hand and squeeze gently. "You couldn't have known."

"I know," he says, his hand slipping free. "But that doesn't mean I'm not still responsible for what I did."

"Zane-"

"How about we just focus on something else while we wait?" Zane smiles weakly.

I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to keep pushing, to make sure Zane knows there was no way he could have prevented this, but I also know where he's coming from. I know what it's like to think you've done the right thing only for it to end up horribly wrong.

"Alright," I give in. "What should we talk about then?"

"How about what kind of item Ionia selects from the Vault when they win?" Seth chimes in.

I look at him, squinting in pure confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear? The League said that whoever won the match gets to select a new item to be permanently added to the League matches in remembrance of their victory."

My heart stops as the final puzzle piece clicks into place.

The League Vault houses the most powerful weapons, armor, and magical artifacts in all of Runeterra. The League bases the items available for champions to purchase in matches to make themselves stronger off these legendary artifacts because they are so well known. Although the items in the match are shadows in comparison to the actual power held by the artifacts in the vault, the fact remains that an actual item exists and is held in the vault for one reason only:

They were deemed too dangerous or powerful for any one person to possess. So powerful, that the artifact had no apparent way of being destroyed. So the League locks these items in a Vault, another reality created by magic, one that only they know how to open a portal to, and even then the portal is so powerful it stays open where it was created for an entire hour before dissipating.

Meaning a portal to a vault containing the most dangerous items in all Runeterra is open right now so there's as little time as possible between the match ending and the winning team selecting the next item to be available for purchase in matches. Winning the League match was was only a bonus to their actual plan. They're really after the items in the League Vault, because if they get their hands on those, it won't matter how many matches they win or lose. They'll have artifacts powerful enough to scare the League into locking them away in another dimension.

"This was never sabotage," I whisper with complete despair. "This was a heist, and if we don't stop them, Noxus is going to have their pick of a thousand artifacts dangerous enough to threaten our entire world."