Dreams

Achlys was sound asleep. She had drifted to sleep in Karthus's lap as he had been reading to her. The book rested on the pew beside the lich, his full attention now turned to his daughter. He rested a hand on her back, softly rubbing it, as he felt the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

"Always moving," Karthus thought, "even in sleep, mortals never cease to move."

As if sensing his thoughts, Achlys stretched in her sleep, her legs kicking out as far as though could go as she let out a contented sigh. Acheron, always present, looked down at her, trying to discern whether the noise was one of distress or not. Karthus raised a hand to the silent guardian.

"She has always kicked in her sleep," he whispered, "there is no reason for concern."

He picked up a strand of her silvery hair and wrapped it around his boney fingers.

"What do you dream of, my little one? Where do you go? Who do you see? What do you do?"

His mind began to wander, memories from ages ago rising from the fog of Karthus's ancient mind as he felt each peaceful breath Achlys took against him.

"Alright, enough prying. I'll tell you my secret dream, but only if you promise, promise on your life, Karthus, to keep it a secret from the others."

Karthus looked at his older sister and nodded.

"I promise on my life, Caecilia, I'll not tell a living soul your secret."

"Good."

She looked out across the ramshackle skyline of the Noxian slum from their rooftop perch. The warmth of the orange sunset was reflected in her sorrowful eyes.

"Someday," she said, "I want to run away from here, say good-bye to Noxus forever."

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe north to the wilds, maybe south to the desert, maybe even across the seas to some island. I don't know. I just know I need to get out of here. Life hasn't been the same since Mother passed."

A pang of sorrow and guilt filled the young Karthus. Caecilia noticed the change in his expression. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer to her. A gentle smile crossed her somber face.

"It's not your fault she died, Karthus. I know you've heard what Father mumbles when he's drunk, but it's not true. You were a baby, how could it have been your fault?"

Karthus looked up at his sister. Even though she was smiling, he could see tears on her cheeks, reflected in the dying light.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," his sister repeated, "don't be."

He hugged his sister as she continued to speak.

"I don't blame you, but you need to understand that the memories are painful. I'm going to leave someday, I don't know when, but I will. And when I'm gone I hope your memories of me don't hurt you because I love you."

"Caecilia," Karthus thought, "you have traveled to the one place I will never follow. Had I the power then that I have now, I would free you from the partings that caused you such distress. You would have been happy here on the Isles. You would have had the peace you desired but could not find in Noxus."

Achlys let out grunt in her sleep, pulling Karthus away from his thoughts. He looked down at her. Without thinking, he had begun to absently braid her hair as he was lost in memory. A snarl had wrapped itself around his fingers, turning what was usually a comforting sensation for Achlys, into one of discomfort. Achlys fussed again as Karthus carefully picked apart the tangle, but she mercifully remained asleep.

"I should bring you to bed," Karthus whispered, more to himself than his daughter, "but first I need to finish with your hair."

It may have been uncomfortable for her now, to have her hair picked at as she tried to sleep, but it would less uncomfortable than if Karthus put her to bed without braiding it first. A battle the following morning of brushing through snarls was not something the memory of Horatia would allow him to permit.

"Ouch!" Karthus snapped, "Stop it!"

"Absolutely not," his eldest sister responded, "if you insist on growing your hair out, you must learn to take care of it."

He could feel Horatia's fingers pulling at knots, each tug making his scalp sting.

"Your hair is so beautiful, so soft, and so bright. It's almost as nice as mine. It pains me to see you not give it the care it needs."

"Braiding it takes too much effort," he grunted as she worked through a particularly nasty snarl.

"And detangling this rat's nest takes much more. You need to braid your hair before you go to sleep. Please, for both our sakes."

"Alright," he relented.

Behind him he could hear Horatia humming a melody.

"What is that song?" he asked, "I hear you and the others humming it, but I have never heard it before."

"It's a lullaby. Our mother used to sing it when we couldn't fall asleep. I have no doubt she would have sang it to you as well."

Karthus was silent, listening as his sister resumed the melody. Though she mostly hummed the tune, every once and a while, a verse snuck through her lips.

"Can you teach it to me?" he asked.

"The lullaby?"

"Yes."

He heard her smirk.

"I think you're a little too old for lullabies," she teased, "but I'll still sing it for you. Anything for my one and only baby brother."

She gave his hair an affectionate tousle.

"Ugh, stop it!" Karthus protested, "You just finished detangling it."

"I'll just have to do it again then. Now hold still."

As she began the work of cleaning his hair anew, she sang.

"The wolves they howl in the night, they fill the wind with song,

With toothy grin and fur of grey

They laugh and sing and bay

'Till sky does dance along in step, haunting, wise, and strong."

"The owls, from their treetops, join the chorus of the night,

Crooning tender calls of 'hoo,'

From perch of oak or yew,

Such a soulful song, compels the stars to shine more bright."

With as much care as possible, Karthus cradled Achlys against himself. He rose from the pew, motioned for Acheron to follow, and made his way through the silent cathedral for Achlys's room. He placed her down into her lifeboat and her eyes flickered open, their green shine lucent in the darkness.

"Father," she mumbled.

"I am here, Achlys," Karthus said, pausing his song long enough to answer her, "it is time for bed."

Achlys nodded, immediately drifting back towards sleep. She rolled to her side and stretched out her arms. Karthus took Grimm, placing the plush into her arms before pulling her new, purple blanket, a gift from Elise for her fifth finding day, over her. Perched beside her bed, Acheron rested.

He resumed the lullaby, singing softly as the words of his sister returned to him.

"And in the mountains to the south, the gentle Bellswayers dance,

Celestial, with silver coats

And golden bells of chiming notes

Tintinnabulation puts the night into a trance."

"I can hardly believe it," his sister exclaimed, "my little brother has one of the most beautiful voices in the Empire!"

Karthus felt the flush of warmth at his cheeks.

"You're exaggerating, Liviana," Karthus insisted.

"It's not exaggerating if it's true!"

He turned to face Liviana, the youngest of his three older sisters, senior to him by only a year. She looked at him with bright, happy eyes, cool and blue as the sky just after dawn. As always, she had encouraged him with childish exuberance, urging him on to strive for impossible dreams. Even though, realistically, he knew what she said would never happen, Karthus could still feel himself smiling back at her.

"Even if it isn't an exaggeration," Karthus said, trying to reign in her fantasies, "what use does my skill have? Nobody out here is hiring a singer. Such a frivolous job is for the wealthy who live in the capital proper. They would never allow a dirty slum rat like me to sing in their grand theaters."

"You are not a slum rat! You are a talented singer. After hearing just one of your songs, I believe any noble would be honored to have you grace their halls."

"Is that so?"

Karthus smirked, despite himself. The thought of any well-dressed noble even bothering to look at a filthy kid like himself, never mind grant him an audience, was laughable.

"It could be so," Liviana said, "If someone gives you the chance, I have no doubt that your songs will be heard all over Runeterra."

All fantasies, he thought, impossible dreams, but ones that were pleasant to imagine.

"Karthus," he chuckled, "entertainer of lords and ladies."

"Why stop there? Your voice is fit to sing for a king."

"All these beasts of Empire home, their music swirling by,

To their songs I add my care,

And too my hopes and prayers,

We all wish you sweet dreams, my dear, our nightly lullaby."

His lullaby completed, Karthus was content to watch Achlys in peaceful silence to make sure that she had settled. After a final stretch and sigh, he knew she was fast asleep. He left her room, returning to cathedral, which now seemed deafeningly silent. Karthus was surrounded by the dead, but none were the souls he longed to be with.

"You were right about me, Liviana," Karthus whispered, filling the silence, "though not in the way you imagined. I wonder, do you hear my songs in the beyond? I sang for the dead for many years, never knowing if they listened. I still sing for them, but now I also sing for one living soul. You would have loved her, dear sister. I mourn that you, Horatia, and Caecilia will never meet my daughter."

"But there is nothing I can do to change the past. All I can do is work towards a future free of painful partings and mortal suffering. For what greater desire is there than to spend eternity with the ones you love?"

Greetings Summoners,

I hope you all are enjoying your summer. I know I'm having fun writing scenes from Karthus's past. Hey, quick question for you all. I noticed chapter 33 has significantly more reads than both the chapter before or after it. Was there something in it that you all really enjoyed or struck a note with you? Please, let me know. If there is something you enjoy, I would love to hear it. I do make adjustments based on feedback. Thank you.

Best of luck on the Rift,

-Gwoo