Chapter 4: Target Practice
There was something about training dummies that Katarina just loved. They weren't particularly special - just enormous sacks of sawdust shaped like people, really – but they allowed her a certain, thrilling freedom to attack anyone she chose. Of course, she could not actually inflict pain on them – which was certainly disappointing – but her imagination was strong enough to accurately imagine her foe's screams of pain.
Tonight, the face on her dummy was Tryndamere's. She had always harbored a hatred for the barbarian king, born out of her time spent heading the Barbarian Pacification Campaign. Today, that was particularly palpable. Without dwelling too much on the sources of her anger, the assassin drew her knives and began senselessly slashing at her dummy, reducing it to a pile of sawdust and ribbons in less than a minute. She felt a grim satisfaction as she kicked the pile, sending a fan of dust into the air. She turned away from the mess and faced a target on the wall, hurling her knife in one smooth motion. It buried itself into the bright red circle at the center of the disk, as she knew it would.
"Good shot," said a voice from behind her, and she whirled around to face the figure of General Swain. She glowered at him in frustration. Why did everyone feel the need to sneak up on her?
Katarina ran through a list of possible retorts before shaking her head and deciding to ignore him. Beside her, the ground split open as huge talons burst forth, closing around the helpless dummy that stood there. She watched as a haze of green surrounded the figure, and it seemed to melt in on itself. She spared a glance back in Swain's direction and saw the man standing with perfect composure, as if nothing had just happened.
She turned away from him and threw another blade at the wall, burying it right beside the first one. She stared at the target for a moment, then spoke before she could change her mind.
"Tryndamere abuses his wife."
Beside her, the talons released the melted dummy and the green haze receded, leaving the air thick with the smell of burnt wood and strange chemicals. "Is that so?"
Katarina nodded and hurled a third knife.
"How certain are you?"
Thwack. This one hit a little lower than she had intended. "Positive."
She heard the distinct sound of Swain deliberating a strategy. She waited a moment before she heard him mutter a soft, "Interesting."
Clang. The fourth blade managed to hit the protruding end of the first, and it fell to the ground uselessly.
"I'd like you to continue investigating this," Swain said finally. "And good job," he added. "Your sister has already found some good information as well from a few of the Yordles."
Katarina winced at the unfortunate mental image of her sister extracting information from Yordles. Swain either did not notice the motion or chose to ignore it. She heard his retreating footsteps moments later, and she unconsciously let out the breath she had been holding.
Gazing down at the knife in her hand, the assassin considered her options. It was too early for her to consider going to sleep under normal conditions, but she could think of no reason to continue to stay awake. She examined the blade in her hand carefully, admiring its razor sharp, well-tended edge. She stood for a moment in the silence before moving to gather up the blades embedded in the wall. She left the training center soon after, in no better mood than when she'd entered it.
That night, she lay on the bed and watched the shadows play across the ceiling, unable to sleep.
When the first rays of sunlight passed through the window, Katarina was pulled out of her reverie when she felt a familiar itch deep inside of her. She sat up on the bed as a soft blue glow danced across her skin, lighting up the room. A voice inside her mind whispered the words of her summons.
Normally, this would have pleased her, but her sleepless night did not leave her particularly thrilled at the prospect of facing a battle. She grumbled as she pulled herself into a sitting position and allowed herself to stretch in the few moments she had before summoning. At least they deemed me fit to fight, she thought, still somewhat bitterly.
An instant after the thought had occurred to her, she found herself standing on the familiar stone dais, four other champions arranged in the circle. Kassadin, Talon, Miss Fortune, and Alistar all stood in a huddle, discussing strategy in low voices. When Katarina appeared, they all turned to look at her with raised eyebrows.
Miss Fortune sneered at her. "You ready to fight, sleeping beauty?"
Katarina knew that she probably looked like shit. She wasn't particularly fond of early morning fights, anyway. Still, she didn't want to give the trigger-happy pirate the idea that she was anything besides capable and deadly. Focusing her energy, she dissipated into a puff of purple smoke and appeared right behind the other woman. Her quick movement had clearly unsettled the bounty hunter.
"Ready," she whispered darkly, feeling her body thrum with energy. She felt the weight of exhaustion draining out of her slowly, preparing her for the battle.
"I'll be waiting in the jungle to help you," said Talon.
Katarina looked over at him, her eyes narrowing. She was determined not to show any sign of weakness in this match. "You don't need to babysit me."
Despite her words, she knew Talon would still focus on her lane, no matter what she said to him. She decided to let the matter go, and forced herself to vaguely listen to her team's plans. The strategy was fairly basic, with no early surprises planned. Katarina fiddled with the knives at her belt. After several minutes, the illumination from the dais intensified, and the five champions found themselves standing on the Fields of Justice.
"Welcome to Summoner's Rift!" boomed the voice of the announcer whom they had all heard countless times before.
"Yeah, yeah," muttered Katarina, stepping off of the bright fountain without a word to her teammates. She wondered who she would have to fight. Her team had decided to send her to the top lane, and she arrived at the outermost tower and crouched low at its base, blending into the shadow it cast.
The sun finally finished peaking over the horizon as she settled, flooding the Rift with warm, early morning rays. All was silent save for the gentle breath of wind through the trees and the ethereal presence of the four other champions inside of Katarina's head. The tranquility was in stark contrast to the storm she had faced during her last match.
All at once it intensified, the air around her stilling for just a moment. She drew a deep breath as the energy around her shifted, releasing it when the announcer's voice again rang over the trees, signifying the true start of the battle.
A line of mindless little minions passed her and met an opposing line of equally mindless little minions. They began purposefully beating each other senseless, and Katarina watched, coiled like a spring, waiting to see who would come and join the fight. She counted the seconds as they passed, and just as she was beginning to wonder if her enemy had deviated from the typical script, a hulking figure emerged from the edge of the fog of war, and the assassin nearly groaned.
Figures it would be him.
Abandoning any attempt at stealth – but only for the time being – Katarina rolled out from her hiding place and stood in one fluid motion, rising to meet her opponent across the line of tiny minions.
"Great, it's Scale Face," she scowled, and the crocodile looked up at her with an expression that perfectly mirrored her displeasure.
"Sinister Blade," Renekton growled through his enormous teeth. "I almost didn't recognize you, since you were actually in your lane." The last word was punctuated with a complicated flourish, and the enormous blade attached to his forearm followed his movements, striking down a line of Katarina's minions and forcing those behind to advance closer to her tower, where she struck them down with a few quick slashes of her knife.
"I recognized you easily. It's hard to miss such a beautiful face," she mocked as she fought.
The crocodile snorted with disgust, snapping his jaws shut tightly. "Funny that you say that, when you look as if Blitzcrank ran you over this morning."
Katarina was about to snap a retort when she became aware of Talon's presence in the surrounding jungle. She mentally cursed him, knowing that he was ignoring her earlier comment. I'm doing fine here, she mentally berated.
If you distract him, I can sneak behind and catch him off-guard, Talon replied calmly.
Katarina grit her teeth, but decided to go along with his plan. Distracting Renekton typically wasn't very difficult for her. She turned back to the crocodile, watching him make short work of her minions, but she wasn't fooled by his rapt attention to his blade movements; he was watching her every move, she was sure of it, waiting for her to make a mistake. He seemed oblivious to Talon's proximity.
"I've been thinking about getting my sister a gift," said Katarina casually. Renekton paused in his fighting long enough to shoot her a dark scowl.
"Am I supposed to care?" he snapped his teeth again, and another line of his minions pushed hers back. Katarina noticed that she was now nearly at the base of her turret. She could see Talon emerge from the jungle and pass behind the distracted crocodile. Wait…he warned silently.
"Well, I was thinking that you should, since I'm planning on making her a purse out of your face." Renekton snorted in annoyance, lowering his blade and opening his mouth to say something in reply.
Now, whispered Talon.
In a flash, he was right beside Renekton, silencing whatever retort the crocodile was about to shout. Bewilderment came over his face as Talon threw a deadly rake of blades across his skin with enough force to dig into his scales. Only then did the Butcher of the Sands regain his composure enough to raise his huge blade, but it was too late. Katarina appeared right behind him and aimed her knife at his soft throat, slipping it in between his scales with ease. The great crocodile roared and collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood.
Easy, thought Katarina as she smirked down at the enormous corpse. The whole thing had taken nearly three seconds. The beauty of double assassins.
Talon gave a light nod and disappeared back into the trees without another word. Katarina felt another surge of energy and quickly cleared the line of minions in front of her before porting back to her team's fountain. Perhaps this match wouldn't be so terrible.
The rest of the fight went by in a haze of knives and blood for the vicious assassin. Despite her lack of sleep, her form had been impeccable this time, and her flawless blade work had scored her the most kills in the game. The match had drawn out far longer than was typical, and by the time her enemy's nexus had exploded and brought the ten champions back to the summoning platform, she was once again covered in gore, a wicked smile on her face.
Her team mates and her enemies alike looked at her warily as they offered their praise, save Renekton, who glowered at her condescendingly. "I hope you're not thinking that you actually displayed skill in that game. My team played horribly," he growled.
Katarina cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured to the streaks of crimson that she wore. "Half this blood is yours, Scale Face."
Before the two of them could fall into yet another argument, Renekton's team mates dragged the belligerent crocodile off of the platform, all of them muttering a reluctant "good game" as they departed.
The dais now empty, Katarina felt free to release the energy she had channeled for the duration of the battle, and she nearly collapsed against the wall with a sigh of exhaustion.
"Tired?" asked a voice from close-by, and the assassin sprang into alertness once again, her eyes meeting those of the Frost Archer, who was looking at her with a slight smirk. Her cowl was down, allowing her long white hair to fall unhindered down her back. It also gave an unrestricted view of the refreshed dark stain on her left cheek. At the sight of the mark, Katarina felt her anger at being surprised (again) drain from her body, replaced with a vague yet powerful sense of disquiet. She decided not to mention it.
"Long match," she explained.
Ashe nodded. "I was watching, actually. You fought exceptionally well."
Katarina nodded absently. Why is she speaking to me? she thought. "Thanks." She stepped off of the platform, taking care not to slip on any blood. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ashe looking her up and down.
"Do you always leave a match looking like this?" she asked with a tone that sounded as if it were stuck between amused and wary.
The assassin nodded, glancing down at her ruined clothes. "It's the nature of how I fight," she explained with a hint of pride. "It's also usually a measure of how well I'm doing."
Ashe gave a small smile. "I can see that. I probably shouldn't keep you from your shower, but feel free to join me in the training room when you're done."
The invitation surprised Katarina, but she took care to hide the reaction. Her eyes turned to Ashe's, searching for any underlying motives. She remembered the enraged look on the archer's face from the previous night, a stark contrast to the friendly expression she now wore.
Still, there was a distinct hesitation in the Frost Archer, a certain guarded look to her eyes that Katarina found odd but certainly not hostile. "I might," she said, sounding non-committal. She watched as Ashe turned and walked back through the hallway, and her gaze was drawn to the archer's right foot.
She's favoring it, noticed Katarina. The limp was very slight, but the assassin was just able to detect it. She wondered where Ashe had gotten the injury, but the only answers that came into her mind involved a snarling barbarian king.
Banishing thoughts of Tryndamere, Katarina turned away from the retreating archer and passed down the opposite hallway to her own room, leaving a crimson trail behind her. Despite what Renekton had said to her, she still felt quite happy with the results from her match. Maybe I should fight on no sleep more often, she thought.
Her shower took longer than normal – another sign of a good battle. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she glanced around her room, unsure of what to do next. She thought of sleeping, but her exhaustion from the match had faded after her shower, and the idea of going to bed in the morning didn't seem terribly productive.
After deliberating, she decided on another training session. She dressed quickly and put all of her knives in careful order, then moved to open the door…
…and nearly walked right into Talon.
The sight of him startled her, but she refused to let her surprise show. "What are you doing here?" she barked.
He held up his hand, revealing a paper bag and sending a waft of hamburger in her direction. "Just a delivery."
"Are you kidding me?"
Talon shook his head. "General Swain's orders."
Katarina rolled her eyes and pulled the bag out of his hand. She watched him for a moment, waiting for him to leave, but he shook his head. "I'm supposed to watch you eat it."
She cocked an eyebrow at him, growing annoyed. This sounded exactly like something Swain would do, mostly to piss her off. "You never seem to eat," he'd always say to her, followed by a stern, "One of these days I'm going to start watching you just to make sure you're actually getting food."
"Come with me, then," she sighed, "I'm heading out to train."
He followed her like a shadow, clearly trying to be unobtrusive. She pulled the burger out of its bag as she walked and dug in. It tasted terrible, but she had to admit that she was hungry. "I take it Swain told of you of his plan," she said to the other assassin between bites.
Talon nodded but offered no other information. She debated asking him how he was fairing, but decided against it. Talon was exceptionally secretive by nature, and she found that she didn't really care, anyways. She took several more bites of her burger as she walked, then shoved the half-eaten sandwich back into the bag and then into Talon's hands.
"You're supposed to eat the whole thing," said Talon, his brow furrowing in concern.
Katarina put her hand on the door to the training room and turned to face him, annoyed. "You tell Swain that if he wants, he can order me to eat it himself."
"But –"
"Dismissed," she growled, shoving the door open. "That's an order." She slammed it behind her.
"Well, that's quite an entrance," Ashe remarked from behind her. Katarina turned to face the archer, a clever retort on her tongue. Her words died as soon as she saw her.
Instead of her typical outfit, Ashe was clad in a tight-fitting green tunic, her long hair tied back so as not to get in the way of her bow. A leather belt was cinched around her waist, embroidered with what looked like silver. Around her neck hung a thin golden chain, baring the crest of Frejlord on it. Her smile was warm and genuine, nearly enough to outshine the bruise on her cheek.
Katarina couldn't quite understand why the sight of the archer gave her pause, but when her eyes fell on the modest crown atop her head, she was reminded of her mission. Ashe was an important source of information, and she couldn't forget that.
She realized that the Frost Archer was expecting her to speak. "I suppose," she mumbled, averting her eyes.
Ashe must somehow have found her reaction humorous, and she chuckled softly to herself before turning back to the target. Katarina pulled her gaze away from the archer's form long enough to glance at the target on the wall opposite her. As she expected, the bulls-eye was a perfect circle of a dozen protruding arrows. Another joined them, sliding into the exact center of the target.
Katarina turned away from the other woman and took her stance in front of a distant target, pulling a knife from her belt and burying it into the red dot. She continued with her practice, her aim never faltering. From the corner of her eye, she occasionally watched Ashe making equally short work of her own target, covering its surface with a sheen of ice after just a few moments.
When she grew tired of hitting the same spot repeatedly, Katarina retrieved her knives and placed each back in its place. On a whim, she turned away from the targets and crossed the room to the training dummies, several of which were arranged in a circle. Taking up her position in the center of them, the assassin took great care to examine the precise location of all twelve figures. When she had calculated every necessary detail, she inhaled deeply, then spun on her heal and fell into the familiar yet complicated technique.
Blades slid out of their hiding places, into her hands, released again without the slightest pause. The Sinister Blade was a blur of motion as she executed the flawless Death Lotus. The move itself would look chaotic to the observer, yet each knife struck each dummy square in the face on the first rotation, then square in the chest on the second.
Katarina gracefully ended the spin, coming to a halt while facing the opposite direction she had started from. Her eyes met those of the Frost Archer, who nodded, impressed. She turned her gaze from Katarina to the protruding hilts embedded in each dummy. The assassin watched her with raised eyebrows, waiting for her to comment.
"This doesn't seem particularly challenging for you," she finally noted, a hint of amusement coloring her tone.
Katarina shrugged, surveying the results of her handy work. "It passes the time between the instances in which I can use it on people."
Something about her words seemed to strike Ashe in the wrong way, and the Frost Archer gave a tiny jerk and turned away from her gaze. What was that? Katarina wondered.
"You want to make it more interesting?" said Ashe, clearly eager to change the subject, and Katarina let her previous thought go, now curious.
"How so?"
"Well…" Ashe mused, moving to one of the knifed dummies, "it's got to be boring shooting at the same thing all the time." She pulled the blade out of the dummy's chest, running a finger down the edge. Katarina tensed instinctively as the Frost Archer examined the blade carefully, but she bit back the warning that she would otherwise have growled. The other woman talked as she observed, oblivious to the assassin's discomfort. "I know it's boring for me, at least." Her eyes met Katarina's again, then fell back to the knife in her hand, understanding on her face. Without a word, she slowly slid the edge back into the dummy.
Katarina relaxed, gathering the rest of her knives quickly. "I am not putting an apple on my head."
Ashe laughed at that, and Katarina noticed from the corner of her eye how her face seemed to light up when she did so. "Your loss. But I was thinking…you see those ropes, holding up the targets?"
The assassin paused, turning to face the wall. She noticed that each target was hanging by two notably thin ropes.
"Think you can slice through them from here?"
Katarina gave a smirk, her interest piqued. "Definitely. Better than you could with those arrows."
"Really now?"
The assassin nodded confidently, pulling a knife from the chest of one of the dummies and tossing it high into the air, catching it on her thumb without looking.
"A contest, then, to see who can drop their target first?"
Katarina raised her eyebrow at the suggestion, surprised by the offer. She had seen and heard enough of the Frejlord Queen to know that she disdained any and all behavior that could be considered frivolous. "Intriguing. Winner gets 50 gold."
Ashe shook her head. "I don't gamble," she said.
Katarina sighed, disappointed. There was the Ashe she knew. "Well, that's boring," she turned away from the archer and faced another training dummy.
"Fine," came the reply. "But I have a better idea. Loser has to kiss Kog'Maw."
Katarina turned back around and let out a chuckle. "You're serious?"
Ashe shrugged, giving a small smile. "Why not? I could use the challenge." Katarina shook her head in amusement. "What? Are you scared?" the archer teased.
"Just surprised," she insisted. "And interested. You're on."
Ashe smiled in triumph and stood in front of her own target. "You throw first."
The assassin smirked and turned her shoulder to the target, narrowing her eyes on the hanging ropes. She decided to aim for the right one first, and brought a knife to her ear. She inhaled deeply, then spun on her heel, releasing the blade at exactly the right moment. It sailed through the air and hit the wall, fraying nearly half of the rope in the process.
"Good one," said Ashe as she raised her bow and pulled the string taut. Katarina observed the fluidity with which she carried out the motion, and the rigid, disciplined stance she held as she aimed at the wall. One of her eyes fluttered shut, and she made a few minute adjustments to her aim. Her index finger curled over the icy tip of her arrowhead right before she released, also managing to fray her rope.
"Likewise." Katarina again squared her shoulders, aiming for the threads that still held firm on the right. Instead of a complete spin, she opted for a more controlled throw, and a perfect flick of her wrist sent the target falling, though it remained suspended by the rope on the left. She smiled in satisfaction.
Ashe drew her bow again, and as Katarina watched her excellent form, she thought back to her day in the hospital when the archer had excused her bruise by claiming a training accident. You little liar, she thought to herself.
Ashe released, succeeding in dropping her right rope as well. Katarina nodded and faced her target again, focusing all of her attention on the single remaining rope. The weight of the target was putting stress on it, and she figured that, with one clear shot, she could sever the whole thing. She took a deep breath, concentrating, trying to ignore the fact that Ashe was watching her intently as she measured up her target. Slowly, she let everything fall away, eyes focused like lasers on the thin line. She drew her hand back and released smoothly, her knife landing exactly where she had expected.
Katarina's jaw hung open as she stared at the target in front of her, and Ashe laughed quietly, either at the situation or at Katarina's face.
"How the hell…" muttered the assassin, staring at the few tiny, hair-length strings that remained of the nearly-cut rope and somehow managed to hold the target in place.
Ashe said nothing, her laughter escalating. Katarina looked at her with an annoyed expression, waiting for the archer to compose herself.
"Are you done?" she asked when the last chuckles died away.
Ashe just nodded, her smile still plastered onto her face.
"I win anyway," Katarina assured, "Unless your arrow can slice through the whole rope."
The Frost Archer just smirked at her, a sly glint shining in her eyes. "We'll see."
She pulled the bow back, taking as much time and care that Katarina had when lining up the shot. When she seemed sure of the target, she inhaled, then released the arrow with just a flick of her finger. Katarina watched its path, confident that it wouldn't hit.
Halfway down the lane, the arrow suddenly quadrupled in size, slamming into the rope above the target as well as the target itself, nearly obliterating both of them in a small explosion of ice crystals, and Katarina's jaw was on the floor again, along with what remained of the target.
"That is so cheating!" she exclaimed, her tone nearly that of a belligerent child. Ashe let out another peel of laughter in response. "No, that's cheating," repeated the assassin.
"It's not," countered Ashe through her laughter, "You never said I couldn't do that!" Katarina fixed her with a hard stare, but Ashe just grinned in response. "You're just upset that you have to kiss Kog'Maw." At that thought, Katarina winced, and Ashe's look changed from one of amusement to one of sympathy. "I'm sure it's not that bad…"
Katarina muttered something unintelligible under her breath, clenching her fists by her sides. She turned away from the targets and stalked off without a word. Ashe reached out for her as she passed. "Hey, wait!"
The assassin walked to the nearby dummies and threw a hard punch at one of them. It wobbled unsteadily. "Again. Hand-to-hand this time," she suggested, turning back to see Ashe's skeptical look. "What is it?"
The archer stared at her nervously, gripping her bow. "I can't fight hand-to-hand," she confessed.
The anger Katarina felt at being defeated gave way to surprise. "Not at all?" she asked, to which Ashe shook her head. "What happens when you don't have your bow?"
She shrugged, "I make sure that I always have it."
As the assassin marveled at that, her gaze fell to Ashe's leather belt, where a thin dagger hung. "Then what's that for?"
She looked down at her waist and shook her head. "Just for show, really. It's supposed to be back-up, but I haven't ever used it."
Katarina studied the other woman for a moment, thinking back to when she had seen her in battle. Ashe was certainly a formidable and capable opponent, able to fire several arrows at once in rapid succession, even at fairly close range. She was agile and deceptively strong, traits befitting an archer as well as an assassin. Before Katarina could actually think about what she was saying, words were already tumbling out of her mouth. "I could teach you."
The archer stared at her for a moment in surprise, her face a mask of discomfort. "I-I don't - "
"We could go slow," offered the assassin, half of her still unsure why the other half was talking, "starting just bare-handed. Then I could show you how to handle that blade."
Ashe fiddled absently with her bowstring, still looking uncomfortable. "I warn you," she finally said, "I'm completely new at this."
Katarina nodded and moved to the other side of the dummy, holding it in place. She gestured for Ashe to step forward. The archer carefully set down her bow and pulled the quiver of arrows off her back. She approached the dummy warily, as if it might bite her.
"Alright, now take your stance."
Ashe looked at her dubiously.
"Just…show me the best you've got."
The archer fell into a crude imitation of a fighting stance, both fists held up at awkward angles.
"Hmm. Okay," muttered Katarina, stepping back out from her place behind the dummy.
Ashe grimaced, "I warned you."
"It's a start." Katarina came right up behind her, examining her stance. "Put more weight on your right foot," she said, nodding as the archer complied. "Bend your knee a bit more…more than that…good. And move your left foot further back a bit." She moved her gaze higher. "Square your shoulders, and lower your right arm, this isn't a boxing ring. Can you at least throw a punch?"
"I think…"
Katarina's eyes fell to the archer's hands, and she shook her head, reaching out and laying a hand over Ashe's right fist.
Cold, she remarked again. Though she knew the Frost Archer had a lower-than-normal body temperature, she never seemed to remember it until she felt it for herself. Carefully, she pulled Ashe's thumb from under her fingers and curled it in front of her knuckles. "Promise you'll never hold your fists like that again."
"What's wrong with it?" she asked curiously.
"You're strong," replied Katarina, removing her hand from Ashe's and moving back behind the training dummy, "And if you hold your thumb in your fist, you could easily break it."
"Ouch."
"Exactly." She put her hands back on the dummy, holding it firmly in front of her. "Hold that stance. You're going to strike the center with your right fist, shifting your weight forward as you do. Remember to follow through."
Ashe stared at the dummy for a minute, eyes narrowing in determination. After a moment, she threw her right hand out, striking her target from the side. The resulting blow wasn't terribly impressive.
"Aim in the center. And you didn't shift your weight," corrected Katarina. "Get back into position and try again."
The archer fell back into her stance, making minor adjustments as the assassin corrected her posture. She threw another punch, landing in the center this time. The hit was better, but Katarina still shook her head.
"Don't punch with just your fist. Punch with your entire body. Focus all of your energy into your right hand, and follow through." Ashe sighed softly, then fell back into her stance, her determination renewed.
"Shoulders straight. Knee bent. Arm up, and –"
BAM.
Her fist hit the exact center of the dummy with all of her strength, sending both it and Katarina staggering back a few feet. The assassin quickly regained her footing and held onto the dummy. She hadn't quite been expecting the hit, but she couldn't help but smile to herself at the results. She looked back at Ashe and saw the archer staring at her fist in surprise.
"I told you, you're strong," said the assassin with a smug look that faded as soon as her gaze fell onto Ashe's bruise. And maybe you'll need this.
The archer wasn't smiling, but she fell back into the stance and stared straight at Katarina. "Again."
They continued practicing that way until Ashe could land a good hit nearly every time. When she was satisfied, Katarina dropped the dummy and let the Frost Archer catch her breath. "You did well," she remarked.
"Thank you," Ashe breathed. "It's about time I learned." Her hand absently settled over her cheek, and Katarina looked away, pretending not to notice. After a moment, a blue light flickered on the edge of her vision, and she turned back to notice the glow of summoning surround the Frost Archer, who sighed and moved to retrieve her bow and quiver.
"Good luck," said Katarina automatically.
"Thanks," Ashe replied, "But don't think I've forgotten about our little bet."
The assassin winced again and opened her mouth to reply, but the words died on her lips as the Archer faded away in the blink of an eye.