No matter how many times he saw it, Cinder was always impressed by the Immortal Bastion. Its very existence and architecture spoke volumes of the power and attitude of the Noxian people. A people who thrived on and reveled in conflict, almost the exact opposite of the way he grew up, and he had to admit, he preferred this way of life much better. Wars bred innovation, and he could see now why Ionia was so lacking. The continent had stagnated, being content with their martial prowess and spirituality, whereas Noxus has been pushing forward with new technological developments on every front. Swain's new flagship, The Leviathan, was just one of the examples.
The central spire soared in the sky, representing the might of Trifarix. Statues of former emperors lined the staircases leading up, with the notable exception of Boram Darkwill, whose statue was a bisected lump of shattered stone. A reminder to those who would pervade the Noxian ideal for selfish gain. It's been too long since Cinder's been back, and as he stepped into the city proper, he took a deep breath, appreciating the grimy familiarity that greeted his nose. The lower city slums still smelled like animals and trash, but it was a comforting scent all the same.
Unfortunately, Cinder wouldn't be able to stay too long. The merchant vessel chartered for him and his team was setting off at first light tomorrow and he needed to gather them all by then. He had a good idea where all three might be, but that didn't leave him much time for rest or relaxation. Still, he had been paid handsomely for that last mission, and he knew more than a few brothels that would be willing to lighten his purse for him come evening. He wanted only the best to help him forget.
Pushing through the narrow alleyways, making sure to avoid the pickpockets who frequented these places, Cinder arrived at The Dancing Drake-Hound. The tavern was packed despite it being early afternoon still, mostly with day laborers, mercenaries, and the occasional soldier. The gruff minotauren barkeep gives him a huff of acknowledgement, nostrils flaring before pointing to a corner. Flicking a copper coin to the barkeep, the Ionian nods in thanks and heads in the direction he was pointed to.
In the solitary corner sat a mountain of a man, clad in a vest that showed the various Freljordan style tattoos adorning his thick arms. Tall enough that the small table looked practically comical beside him, the big man radiated an aura of danger, and if there was one thing the people of the slums knew, it was avoiding danger. And so, the man sat alone, downing his tenth mug of ale like it was water, ignoring the curious stares that he received. While Noxus was a nation of many races, northerners weren't as common, given their propensity to stay where it's cold, as well as their loyalty towards their warmothers.
"Miss me?" Cinder asked with a grin as he slides into the corner, sitting on opposite ends of the table. "Half a damn year, and you still can't pick a better place than this?"
The Freljordan's eyes widened in surprise before he broke out into a smile of his own. Rising to his feet, he wraps Cinder around in a tight, bone breaking hug before sitting back down.
"Hah! And drink their piss water? Not for me Cinder, unlike you easterners, I've actually got standards for my ale," the man replied, brushing his white hair out of his face. Despite the wrinkles around the corners of his eye, he was still spry and athletic, despite being well into his late forties. Cinder hoped that he would age that gracefully. Or achieve that age at all, in fact.
"Listen Erik, just because you lack the refinement for sake doesn't mean I lack standards," Cinders replied, and the two of them burst into laughter over the old shared joke. He waves down a waitress and grabs himself a mug as well before turning to his old friend. "Unfortunately, there's not much time to catch up old friend. New job, and this one I'll be needing you and the others."
"Good, I was wasting away just sitting here and drinking. Where're we going?" Erik asks, then noticed the the slight shift in Cinder's posture. "Oh. Well, that's bad isn't it?"
It was hard for Akali to reconcile the sights and sounds she's experience with the land she's lived in for two decades. Balance. The core tenet of the order she once belonged to. But here? She could see none of that. She and Irelia had returned to western coasts of Navori, but their joruney hadn't been peaceful. Irelia was a recognized hero, and more than a few farmers had offered them meals and a safe place to spend the night, but they'd also been accosted by highwaymen both Ionian and Noxian. Desperation and madness ran hand in hand, and with so much farmland still not recovered from the chemicals that had been deployed during the war, food was still scarce.
Not to mention, The Navori Brotherhood was gaining influence with their rhetoric. It wasn't as if Akali couldn't understand where they were coming from: her desire for revenge burns brightly even now, and her hatred for those occupiers remains unabated. But the Brotherhood were a dangerous threat as well, a homegrown threat that arose because of the violence that occurred here. Their calls for a unified Ionia - under a single banner - would've been laughed at years ago, but now there were those who seriously considered the idea.
They believed Irelia to lack the resolve to lead a counter offensive, and they cared little for the price of victory. Under their leadership, Ionia would see all her children enlisted into war, and even Akali could see that that was no way to pave the path towards tomorrow.
"I'll never be tired of this sight," Irelia said as the two of them crested a hilltop. They were near their destination now, and from the hilltop, they could see the glimmering blue sea in the distance. What once used to be a normal beach was now a training ground for the newly recruited warriors of Ionia. Every able bodied man and woman now knew the dangers, and they wanted to do their part in defending their home.
"It won't be enough. Compared to you and I, they're sorely lacking," Akali muttered, taking a seat and reaching for her water pouch. It's been a while since she's traveled with another, and she had to admit that it took some getting used to. If it were up to her, they wouldn't be sitting in such an exposed location, but Irelia didn't see the need for stealth.
"...Perhaps, but that's all the more reason to practice," Irelia replied, giving her companion a side-eyed glance. "We cannot let perfection be the enemy of good."
Akali could feel impatience grating her insides, but there was little she could do or say to change anything. It was nearly a week's travel to get here, and who knows how much longer she'll have to remain here until there was some action. In the far distance, she could still see the Noxian banners flying over their stolen territory, but even she couldn't attack a fortified encampment by herself. As much as she hated to admit it, Irelia was right.
But soon...
"Well? You win anything?" Cinder asked, tapping the shoulder of the Shuriman man. The roar of the audience within the Noxkraya Arena was enough to shake the very foundations of the ancient building, but the bookies hardly seemed fazed. It seems there was another major upset today, and the crowd was eager for more bloodshed.
The black skinned Shuriman turned with a smug grin, flashing four gold coins tucked between his fingers before stuffing them inside his pockets. Dressed in a tattered hunting attire with intricately woven black hair, the man was the perfect example of a mercenary, though to Cinder, he was also a friend.
"Seems your eyes never miss eh? Good to see you again Silence," Cinder said as the two of them bump fists. Silence, true to his name, made no verbal reply, but did give a questioning look when he saw Erik nearby.
"Yeah, we're gathering everyone," Cinder confirmed with a nod. "New job. You've never been far east, have you Silence?"
The very central tower of the Immortal Bastion was off limits to all, per the direct orders of the Trifarix. Most assumed that meant that it housed their greatest secrets, but most would be wrong. It was restricted because the Trifarix had absolutely no idea what was inside, courtesy of the Black Rose. Swain knew that this tower was one of the strongholds for the organization, but even the demon in his arm couldn't tell him anymore than that. His foresight was shrouded here, but he was content to let them be. After all, he had no qualms about keeping his enemies close.
As such, it was easy for the pale skinned woman to access the tower, disguised as a young courier. Up the stairs she ran, her magic allowing others to focus their attentions elsewhere. Anywhere but on her. Then, a simple warp forward, leaving nothing behind. Within the tower, she shed her disguise, for all here knew who she was. Her heels clicked loudly against the ground as her cape fluttered softly behind her. Already, she could hear the others arguing over the next course of action, now that Swain has made his move.
"General Darius will be occupied in thw Freljord for another month at least!" An aged male voice rang out. "Warmother Sejuani has consolidated power, and the shifting of seasons will make it nigh impossible for him to make any progress!"
"This is Darius you're talking about Milat!" A raspy female voice replied. "He'll push his men to the bitter end before giving up. I wouldn't be counting him out that quickly."
The pale woman continues listening, content to merely observe. Plans within plans. Contingencies within contingencies. Resources were plentiful, and Swain was a worthy opponent. She wanted to savor this, and the well being of her co-conspirators were the least of her worries. For now, her attention was to the east. Her pawn and his pawn were about to clash, and she was genuinely curious how it would play out. For some, the fate of nations was a worthy cause, but for her, it was just another day.
"Cinder! You're back!" The young girl shouted, leaping into his arms with a tight embrace. Her long crimson ponytail bobbed and waved as she pressed her face into his chest while he awkwardly patted her back, unsure how he should respond. "I missed you so much! What took you so long?"
"I uh... I had to..." Betray some kind hearted people who took me in and fed me was what Cinder would've said to the other two, but not to Arca. Gallows humor of that caliber was probably a bit much for the poor girl, and he felt somewhat responsible for her being here, even if she didn't see it that way. A Demacian in Noxus was a rare sight, though most wouldn't be able to tell the difference at a glance.
"Had to stay a bit longer than I thought because of unexpected circumstances," Cinder finished lamely as Arca finally let go. "You know? Things never go according to plan."
"Uh huh," she replied with a skeptical raise of an eyebrow, though she couldn't hold her frown for very long without breaking out into a cheerful smile. "So, does that mean you'll be here then? I just wrapped up this semester, and I think my magic is improving pretty steadily."
"That so? Then that's perfect," Cinder said, patting the girl on the head. "Then this time, you can come with me."
To say she was excited was an understatement, and she was practically jumping up and down before it occurred to her to ask where the destination of this journey was.
"Home," Cinder answered with a faraway look in his eyes. "We're going to my home."