A small round room illuminated by the pale blue light of small magical spheres hovering lazily mere inches beneath the ceiling, the agitated murmuring of men and women of various ages and ethnicities gathered around a round stone table decorated with mystical symbols and runes of power. The tense forms of the hooded Summoners suffocating inside their ornate robes and cloaks, humming in though as the minutes keep ticking by.
A sudden sound, an echo of undeath, the air starts shifting and green fog abruptly engulfs the whole chamber as Kalista, the Spear of Vengeance suddenly makes her appearance, spectral weapon clenched in her hand and irisless eyes brimming with eerie intelligence. A few Summoners stiffen, some of them even going as far as to gasp and rise from their seats in freight, their gazes locked on the flickering warrior standing before them before the booming voice of the High Summoner suddenly restores order.
"Kalista, did you manage to convince Vayne of entrusting you with her mission? Is your task complete?"
The specter pauses for a moment and then nods, ghostly green eyes still staring at the agitated individuals filling the chamber before her reverberating whispers finally reach the man's ears carrying with them the cold, distant tone of death.
"The pact is made."
Reginald nods once and then pauses, eyes locked on the flickering orbs of the spectral warrior before gesturing towards the runic pedestal standing tall before the spear wielder.
"Then show us."
A heartbeat passes, a calm nod, and then a step forward, ghostly fingers brushing up against the rough exterior of the magical device before the whole room freezes and then fades from existence, champion and Summoners alike disappearing into an intense explosion of faceless voices and blurry images constructed by the very memories and experiences of Kalista.
Abruptly the void stops spinning, the voices stabilize, the blurry figures sharpen and thicken, intricate details starting to show, slipping into the mind-shades like paint on a blank canvas.
A pale woman covered in bandages, cold brown eyes drained of life staring into oblivion, scarred bruised lips drawn back into a snarl. The mouth opens, the words fill their minds, hate dripping from every letter and syllable like venom off a serpent's tooth.
"Make them suffer, make them curse the very moment they were born and make their screams give even Thresh nightmares worse than Nocturne's. Or else I will do it myself and then I'll come after you. And please believe me when I am saying that I will be putting a silver tipped bolt between the eyes of every undead monstrosity in the Shadow Isles and lit the whole continent on fire."
The small newly formed fangs inside the beast's mouth start extending, brown eyes bleeding red as Shauna's smile suddenly turns into a twisted smirk radiating insanity and everyone in the room flinches, silently staring into the cold, merciless eyes of the beast before the scene starts dissolving and the Summoners are suddenly back in the conference room.
A tense silence, visages filled with awe and horror, the scared mumbles of old men corrupted by wealth and power each one of them holding enough influence and magic to level a whole nation, but they are currently frozen, shocked into silence, eyes open wide still staring forward towards the crimson gaze and the sinister smile of the Night Hunter threatening a whole country. Threatening them with war.
Moments pass by before the voice of a Summoner rises into a roar of anger, walls reverberating by the sheer volume of the man's voice, gold and blue robes swirling wildly as the Summoner abruptly stands up.
"The vampire is clearly insane! She threatens the balance of the world and undermines our authority! I suggest we execute her for treason this very instant!"
A few nods of approval coming from the vast majority of Demacian Summoners, loud whispers coming from the Noxian side of the table, a single Shuriman shakes his head in disapproval even as a female Zaunite starts cheering loudly. Kalista remains silent, dark thoughts hidden behind a pair of ghostly flickering eyes, fingers still wrapped around her black spear. She isn't going to let these men harm the vampire, Shauna is currently her Oathsworn even if unofficially and no one, not ever the Summoners that ordered her to aid the Night Hunter in the first place are going to betray one of her Oathsworns without paying it with their lives.
"Suggestion denied."
Reginald booms and the Demacian Summoner can only grit his teeth in frustration.
"Then restrain her and put her in a cell among the other dangerous champions, she is clearly a danger to all of us."
"Also denied, the champions are already nervous after the fiasco with the Eternal Nightmare, some of them even going as far as considering of leaving the Institute and capturing Miss Vayne would only push them towards that decision. Some of them might even start considering us as a threat, mere tyrants imprisoning anyone unsatisfied with their actions and rulings."
The man spares a few more breathes trying to justify his reasoning before finally returning to his seat with a defeated expression and a tired sigh as another Summoner, this one an old Noxian with fierce emerald eyes clears his throat in order to draw the High Summoner's attention.
"So am I correct to assume that we are just going to let the Demacian prince die?"
A small sigh and a nod later coming from the exhausted form of the High Summoner and the whole room erupts in a cacophony of unintelligent buzzing as all the gathered Summoners start striking conversations with their fellow peers all the while the Demacians start shouting curses and profanities.
"Enough! This decision is not negotiable! We will keep providing shelter to the prince for as long as he resides inside the walls of the Institute, but after that he is on his own. None of you is allowed to contact him or summon him for any reason whatsoever and doing so will have grave repercussions. I am going to even go as far as stripping your ranks and imprisoning you in case of you start talking about this matter to your respective kings and political leaders. Am I clear?"
A few nods and muffled murmurs of agreement can be heard as the majority of Summoners start leaving, the spear of Vengeance quickly following behind them ready to deliver death to any wretched oath breaker.
"This isn't right, this filthy beast shouldn't be allowed to touch his highness, prince Jarvan. We are supposed to prevent attacks against the nations and maintain the order. How can we even be considering of abandoning one of our champions?"
Reginald stops in his tracks and then pauses eyeing the young Demacian Summoner with tired eyes filled with wisdom. The lad is young he realizes, too young and sheltered to remember the Ionian Invasion or the chaos of the Rune Wars and even the threat of the black mist and the voidlings, or that Summoners aren't supposed to interfere with the internal conflicts of a country for that matter.
"Tell me lad, can we stop Hecarim's rampages on onshore villages or put a stop to Lissandra's dark machinations? Can we just order Jinx to stop blowing up stuff or restrain her by force inside Piltovian jurisdiction? And what about Singed's terrible concoctions and potions of shadow and death? How can a lowly Summoner force that lunatic to abandon his inhuman research without becoming a target of his vengeance? "
The man opens his mouth ready to no doubt amaze the High Summoner with his reasoning skills before Reginald interrupts him in a heartbeat.
"We can't. We can summon Hecarim on the fields and hope that we have just saved a village, put Lissandra on the same team as Ashe and Leona and hope that their charm and kindness might start rubbing off and in time change the Ice Witch's view of the world or melt her cold heart, but that's the extent of our power. Shoving our nose into Piltovian affairs will just earn their ire and messing with Singed will just anger Zaun or even the mad alchemist himself. You see lad, we are not in control of Valoran, we are merely trying to soften the blows and I personally prefer Kalista taking care of Jarvan instead of Vayne hunting him down across your forts and cities, potentially killing innocent civilians while pursuing him. What about you?"
A mute nod and a moment later the boy is gone and Ashram is alone in the room with two individuals wrapped in summoning robes, calmly making their way towards the exit. The first one takes a slow step forward and then another one dragging his steps as if in thought, head hanging low and shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of an entire nation. Reginald just pauses to press a reassuring hand on top of the man's shoulder, silently gazing into the old man's wrinkled visage before speaking in a low voice.
"I am sorry, your Majesty. It had to be done."
The man scoffs and then sighs, head rising in order to stare into the High Summoner's eyes, gaze filled with bitterness and pain.
"It is mostly my fault, Ashram. I was too occupied with the affairs of my country to teach my son the importance of kindness, love and mercy. I once caught a glimpse of the things he did to the poor girl during his Judgment and… I can't really blame Shauna for seeking vengeance. Jarvan will have to reap what he sowed, I am afraid."
Jarvan Lightshield the fourth leaves in the next few moments and Reginald is finally alone with the man in the faded blue robes The High Summoner closes the door and makes sure that the silencing spells covering the room are still active before turning to address the robed individual standing mere inches behind him.
"The room is secure and no one from the outside will be able to either enter the room or hear us, Chronokeeper. I would now like to have some answers about why the advice you offered me concerning the Night Hunter. Why did I have to sacrifice Jarvan at all costs? Why am I currently siding with Shauna?"
Zilean nods silently removing his hood only to reveal a tangled mess of pale blue hair and a pair of equally pale, tired brown eyes filled with pain, loss and wisdom. He smiles softly.
"Because it is the best choice available and leads to the best potential outcomes."
Reginald sighs, eyes narrowing dangerously, he takes a deep breath trying to calm his nerves as the age-old wizard smiles at him politely as if he is just an old man gazing into the impatient face of a toddler asking him about the secrets of the universe. And then the smile fades and the mage sighs, pale brown eyes darting around the room as if trying to pierce the very fabric of time and space itself, gazing into horrifying events and alternative timelines, and Ashram has to cough in order to draw the timewizard's attention.
"Oh, I am terribly sorry, my mind seems to wander a lot nowadays."
The old wizard coughs and tries to smile, hiding his sorrow behind the white barrier of his teeth and Reginald just nods absentmindedly. Because he already knows about the terrible ailment tormenting the ancient Urtistan wizard. Chrono-displacia, the forceful detachment of one's consciousness from the present, an unfortunate side effect of delving into the mysterious realm of time magic and divination, forcing the mind to go into a constant state of unrest, eternally stuck between the ripples of past and future lifetimes.
"Where were we? Oh yes, Shauna Vayne, of course. I can't really tell you about that since your actions may threaten the timeline… and I can't tell you about the… No, no I don't want to see that kind of future, well more than I have to anyway… Ah!"
The mage smiles and his whole face brightens as he presses his hand into the runic pedestal and the room explodes.
Different, the experience is completely different from everything he has even seen before, Reginald realizes. Because when other individuals have to anchor their minds into a single scene or moment in their lives, Zilean can experience whole decades in a heartbeat. The images fade and reappear, the blurry shades of people moving faster than his eyes can perceive, screams and whispers merging with the sounds of the background and Ashram can only watch as the memories start replaying themselves time and time again as Zilean tries to navigate towards his goal, swimming through the river of time.
"There!"
Reginald blinks and pauses trying to find his breath and he is pretty sure that he has been screaming the whole time as a single scene starts surfacing, brought to him through the mind of the ancient timewizard.
The memory shows a duel of some kind, a lone lithe figure with blazing red eyes fighting against an iron behemoth of a man swinging an enormous iron morning star almost as big as his own body, silver tipped bolts riddling his terrifying armor, black blood and foul ichor dripping from the man's wounds.
"Mordekaiser, that's Mordekaiser isn't he? Why is he fighting Vayne?"
"Just keep watching, Ashram. It's a good fight, a bit too bloody maybe and I don't like seeing Shauna in pain, but you have to see this in order to understand her importance."
Mordekaiser swings his giant mace downwards intending to crush the vampire underneath it, but Vayne just tumbles away, even more silver bolts piercing the sinister wrath's armor, crimson red eyes filled with murder.
The behemoth just scoffs and kicks her away and Vayne starts bleeding, she stumbles fighting tooth and nail against the undead warrior using her now empty crossbow to deflect his mace even as the wooden stock splits and breaks every time it collides with the Iron Revenants weapon. The giant mace hits her body and Vayne bounces in the ground like a ragdoll before colliding with a tree. She remains still after that, arms spread wide and dirty cheek pressed against the tree bark, bloody ribbons slowly rolling down her pale face as the paladin of death approaches her.
"He is just killings her, the Night Hunter is just a mere vampire after all, she has no chance against a monster like the Iron Revenant."
"A mere vampire that lived after facing the Eternal Nightmare inside her very own mindscape and managed to cast the first successful Dice of Fate in more than a century I would like to note. Just keep watching, Summoner."
And Reginald reluctantly accepts, he silently watches as Mordekaiser tosses Vayne around like a broken toy, swinging his mace with enough force to make the air howl and the earth shatter while the vampire does her best to stay out of the weapons path, diving or limping to safety. And then the reanimated warlord does a terrible mistake, he starts mocking her, talking about how he is going to kill and torture the vampire's mate and Vayne abruptly freezes.
The images are a jumbled mess of red and black after that but Reginald can still somehow see the bloody hands of the vampire shooting forward, pale knuckles striking the undead juggernaut with enough force to make her bones shatter, crimson twisted flesh glistering with liquid life, raising towards the sky before descending, fluidly diving towards the ancient helmet again and again and again and again.
Shauna's blood slowly paints the clearing crimson, black soil turning red as broken fingers somehow form a fist mending in a matter of seconds only to dive back into the battered armor and bent helmet, breaking again upon impact.
The Iron Juggernaut suddenly roars armored hands crushing the vampire's ribcage making her spit blood and the wrath starts cackling only to stop a moment later when bloody pale fingers suddenly wrap around his forearms keeping them down and the vampire starts crashing its forehead against the deformed red helmet.
Again and again and again, the image keeps repeating itself for what feels like hours until Mordekaiser stops struggling and the vampire's now crimson hands suddenly wrap around the deformed helmet, jerking it back and forth until she manages to separate his head from the body, black blood spilling from the twisted reanimated body watering the already drenched soil.
A shade suddenly comes out of the mist and then another one, they place a black crown on top of the vampire's head before bowing in respect as if in the presence of their sovereign and abruptly a whole sea of specters copies their actions, an ocean of lost souls paying their respects to the pale bloody form of the snarling vampire.
"T-That…that's..."
"That's Shauna Vayne, presently known as the Night Hunter and future Queen of the Shadow Isles and also the only reason we can even hope to achieve peace with the damned continent. So tell me Reginald, do you still wish to make an enemy out of this mere vampire?"
The scene starts fading, but Ashram can only keep staring at the crimson-eyed woman and her seemingly endless army of undead, he shakes his head dumbly and Zilean just smiles at him politely, his demeanor obviously cheerful.
"That's what I thought, so let's make sure that Shauna feels welcome here and maybe give her and her girlfriend a few days out of the roster so they can leisurely enjoy themselves. We wouldn't like annoying Shauna now, would we?"
Flashes of crimson and broken bones, the head of a powerful undead warlord separating from his body, countless ghosts bowing before the vampire he almost decided to abandon at the hands of the Demacian Summoners.
Cold ruby eyes staring at him through the sea of specters as if deciding the fate of the entire Institute, fangs glittering in the moonlight.
"Oh gods, I almost sentenced to death the entire Institute."
"Well not all of it, Shauna couldn't really bring herself to kill her friends or her lover, but she certainly ripped Jarvan to shreds… and Xin… and Lucian… and Garen… and Galio, well ripped him to rubbles I guess… and Shyvana… and"
But Reginald isn't even listening to Zilean at this point, the Summoner is currently busy vacating the infirmary from everyone but the scout and giving Vayne the vacations of a lifetime, even going as far as sending her a get-well card and enough flowers to fill her entire chamber.
Writer's note: Hello, I only read the chapter three times so there might be even more terrible typos than the last ones. I was kind of tired, but feel free to comment on anything you catch so I can correct it later.
The scene with Mordekaiser might be rushed and unnecessary, but I wanted to write about Vayne punching someone to death while using her advanced healing factor for more than four chapters now and I just had to get that out of my system. I would obviously like her to kill Jarvan( and oddly enough malphite) but that would start a war or an international manhunt and make things even more complicated with Vayne's Quinn-blood dependency.
Do we capture Quinn and force her to follow her against her will? Does the Institute restrain Vayne and Quinn becomes her kindhearted jailor, feeding her and caring for her or do we just make a miracle happen and Heimer clones Quinn to let Vayne feed off of them, or maybe Kalista's soul-bond sustains her and let's her wage war to her heart's content?
Thoughts like these are the reason I didn't just make Vayne become a crazed warmonger and also because that would collide with Quinn's personality. Would Quinn love Vayne if she started murdering her friends in cold blood, would she tried stopping her even if that meant that she would have to kill her? Would Shauna fight back or even kill her by accident resulting in her own death by heartache and starvation?
No, Vayne is a tragic hero in my book, cold and vicious but also caring and having the conviction to do the right thing when she has to. The very best qualities of a person ironically put into an undead shell, mistreated and mocked by every so-called, virtuous human acting like a complete monster. So I think that putting her in charge of an army of specters and abominations would be interesting since she would then be able to use darkness to preserve peace and everyone would be forced to treat her better :)
And also anyone messing with Quinn after that point would have to deal with an undead invasion, Hecarim and Elise, Thresh and all that cool stuff marching under Vayne's orders :))))