Tags: Irelia, Riven, Soraka.

And so the days that proceeded the end of the great war between Noxus and Ionia passed uneventfully, with Irelia continuing to work as a volunteer server and cook at the temple's handouts, providing food for the victims of the terrible invasion, and Soraka trying to mend the grieving souls of the remaining survivors that had experienced so much death and pain.

And as time passed and no reports of violent murders and mysterious massacres were brought to Irelia's attention, the Returned Captain of the Ionian Guard's initial sense of unease had reluctantly started diminishing with each passing day.

Perhaps the fiendish Noxian survivor had decided that staying within the city's walls was too dangerous and so they had fled from the capital, the undead lich thought while picking at her food pensively. Maybe the toxic chemicals that had been released upon the now desolate battlefield had already killed the little murderous Noxian devil before they were able to attack her people.

Whatever the case may be, and whenever the Noxian butcher was cunningly lying in wait biding their time before ambushing innocent citizens or not, Irelia had no new leads to follow.

The Ionian Captain's sole clue as to the survivor's identity would be their behavior and the acts of violence that they would no doubt commit within the city's walls. But now, with all the nervous and steel-eyed Ionian orphans that were flooding the streets and the lack of a fresh trail of bloodshed to point her at any one direction, the Noxian survivor's trail had grown cold. The undead Ionian lich would need nothing short of a miracle to discover the enemy soldier before they caused some serious damage to the majestic capital city and its populace.

Irelia's eyes, still thoughtful and conflicted, absentmindedly observe a small bandaged hand sneakily move across the table, reaching for the neglected slice of bread that Irelia had left next to her plate. The distrait Captain blinks in confusion for just a second, and when Irelia opens her eyes again to stare at the little hand in puzzlement, both the small appendage and her slice of bread have already disappeared.

Two narrowed jade-colored orbs flicker irritably towards the pale unrepentant face of a rapidly chewing albino orphan, even as Soraka smiles apologetically at the peeved Captain Lito and offers her own bread to replace the slice that Riven had just stolen.

The undead black-haired lich merely shakes her head in annoyance, refusing to deprive the kind Starchild of her portion of bread, while irritably glaring at a blatantly unconcerned Riven.

"Thank you, Soraka, but I think that I am done with my meal." Irelia mutters under her breath and not even a moment later, those same thieving hands hastily take possession of Captain Lito's half-full plate. Riven fervently digs into the remaining vegetable stew, barely pausing to chew down her food before shoveling another spoonful of lukewarm stew into her ravenous gaping jaws.

"Please, remind me again why I have to be subjected to this torture? Why do you keep inviting the kid over to dine with us during our break?"

The undead lich's gaze solemnly wanders towards the widely smiling visage of her extremely motherly celestial companion. Soraka is currently watching the little rascal wolf down its food with a content expression gracing her kind purple face.

"Because the two of you started off on the wrong foot for one, and secondly because if it isn't our sacred duty as champions of this land to help those less fortunate than us, then I don't know what it is, and we wouldn't be worthy of our stations and titles."

"Then do your sacred duty as a champion by teaching the little bugger to chew with its mouth closed!" The red-clad Ionian Captain finally exclaims while pointing an accusing finger towards the totally oblivious white-haired girl. Riven's cold maroon-colored eyes momentary dart towards the offending appendage to make sure that Irelia isn't attempting to snatch away her food. Split seconds later, and when Riven safely deducts that that isn't Irelia's real intention, the Noxian orphan loses all interest in the adults surrounding it once more and Riven returns back to messily throwing things inside her mouth.

"Don't call her that! And I believe that you would also be eating as fast as she if you hadn't eaten anything for Stars' Know how long."

Irelia simply mutters something between her teeth, but doesn't push the subject and opts to remain silent. Soraka too releases a soft sigh and lets the conversation shift to a more cheerful subject.

"Ionia has slowly started recovering," The Starchild whispers faintly as she too examines the grim and stern faces of the emaciated people that are filling the crowded room. "It certainly is going to be a long and arduous process, and we undoubtedly have a long way ahead of us before the nation begins resembling its former glorious self. But the people here have started rebuilding their homes and burying their dead, saying their final goodbyes. The healing process has already begun even if most survivors have not yet realized it."

"Ionia will never truly heal until the Noxian war dogs that mangled her are put down like the rabid animals that they are." Angrily spats Irelia with hate thick in her voice. Soraka responds by reaching over the faded tablecloth and tenderly grasping the undead lich's hand.

"You have to let go of your hate or it is going to consume you like Master Yi and Varus. The war is over, Irelia. So, please, stop looking for enemies over your shoulder and focus on the people that love you and want you to find a purpose outside of the battlefield."

The change in Irelia's demeanor is as violent as the descending blade that breaks bone and severs sinew. One moment the Captain of the Ionian Guard is relatively calm, willing to listen to the Starchild's lectures, and the next moment the undead warrior's face is a fierce mask of unadulterated hate and overflowing bloodlust.

Irelia instantly pulls her arm away from Soraka's. The Captain's sentient blades also quivering slightly in a display of immense anger.

"Every Noxian soldier that will dare step foot in Ionian soil will perish at the end of my blades!" Growls the resurrected shade of a cherished dead woman, and Irelia's voice is unwittingly loud enough for some of the citizens that are sitting around their table to hear her terrible oath. A wave of cheering abruptly rises from the hoarse from crying throats of the suffering Ionian survivors, clapping and whistling joining them soon after, as one by one the hurting Ionian widows and orphans or cripples solemnly stand up from their seats and bellow their approval of Irelia's ideals.

Soraka can only spare her dear friend a sad, disappointed look and then bow her head in shame as the once tranquil temple room reverberates with oaths of imminent bloodshed and curses soaked in vengeance and loathing.

And it is only around five minutes later, when a frigid and outraged Karma suddenly burst in the crowded room and the ruckus grudgingly settles down that the two Ionian champions finally notice the absence of the white-haired child that has been quietly eating next to them not a few seconds ago. Irelia's scorching emerald gaze briefly pauses on the toddler's abandoned plate and the considerable amount of food still left on it, before the undead Captain's eyes abruptly narrow in suspicion.