The corners of Mel Medarda mouth twitched, as she threw a reserved but still celebratory smile in Jayce's direction. She saw the hope rekindle in his eyes as Councilor Kiramman raised her hand and the final spotlight illuminated her form.
He caught her eye, and he smiled back, of course he did.
A unanimous vote to accept Silco's peace, however fragile it might turn out to be. Part of her feared that the people of the undercity—_Zaun, she corrected herself—might now be abandoned, left as prey for a pack of hungry drakehounds. A fat piece of meat for the so-called "Chem Barons" to carve up under Silco's rule.
But she also knew Jayce was right, Piltover wasn't fit to govern the people there. War, even a petty one waged in the back alleys by thugs and criminals, is a failure of statecraft. Mel thought that her late brother would have lectured her. Likely how she should consider the rise of Silco and his ilk a symptom of a region ill-managed.
Her smile faltered with grief for a moment, before she masked it with the smile she'd spent years practicing in courts and politics. Better to not ruin Jayce's mood should he look her way again.
A cold shiver rippled through the golden ink slithering across her body. Surfacing memories of the odd Rakkor artisan who crafted them onto her form when she was younger. Along with him she remembered an adage of his.
"People who have power fear nothing except losing it, and so will do even the unthinkable to keep it."
She didn't know why she remembered him or what he said so clearly this many years later, but she couldn't deny his wisdom.
She dared hope that now after Piltover has stepped away; Zaun's new rulers might wield their power more gently, for the sake of the undercity's people.
Even if this changed nothing for Zaun at all, at least they managed to de-escalate this conflict with Silco before it could affect the citizens of Piltover.
Another shiver, this time the sensation burned with a heat that struck her with a sense of urgency.
Just then she witnessed her silhouette grow into a long shadow against the far wall of the Council chamber, blue light invading the room from the balcony window behind her.
Turning around, her eyes widened in fear as a shark-toothed rocket shattered through the artisanal glass. Its evil smile reflecting in the shards of glass only made it smile wider.
As if in response, her markings burned hotter, so hot she thought they might have killed her before the rocket did.
I don't want to die
This was her last thought before her world dissolved into light.
...
The burning didn't stop, instead the sensation became pleasant.
Comforting.
She remained overwhelmed by light, this time gold rather than blue. It preoccupied her mind, but slowly she began to feel something through it.
Several somethings.
Hurt, Fear, and three, no, four *presences* fading away. The last one intertwined with something else she couldn't define that seemed to anchor it but also threatened to consume it.
But closer to her: Confusion, then worry.
"Mel?"
The sensations of her body returned to her as the golden light began to fade, but her confusion stayed.
Her eyes opened to Jayce, his face filling her vision. He held her close and spoke to her again.
"Mel, are you okay?"
Too disoriented to answer, she stared back at him. Only just maintaining her balance as he lifted her to her feet.
A handful of seconds pass by as she stared into his eyes until she somehow blinks away the foreign sensations in her mind.
First the smell of blood, then the taste of ash, her senses returned to her as she took in her surroundings.
Sorrow filled her.
Despite herself, she could do nothing but watch as Councilor Shoola emerged from the smoke, dazed and unresponsive as she walked. Half her face bore fresh burn marks and her ceremonial neck-brace continued to twitch mechanically despite being malformed.
She followed Jayce's shock widened eyes to the bodies of two of their fellow Councilors, Hoskel and Bolbok, buried under the rubble. Barely registering Councilor Salo's screams of pain as an enforcer tried to lift him from the ruble.
They soon found themselves standing over the body of Cassandra Kiramman, her friend.
It was when she felt a strong yet gentle hand on her arm that she began to find her bearings. She found her self looking into the face of her mother.
"Are you hurt?" Ambessa asked, checking her over.
"I'm fine." Mel answered, sounding confident in her answer, but only just becoming convinced of it herself. She was completely unharmed.
Ever the General, Ambessa immediately moved on, and began directing the enforcers that had come to help as if they were her own people.
Mel watched on, not fully engaged in the events around her, as she tried to make sense of what happened. And why she could feel an unnatural warmth rippling through her tattoos.
"Kreipsha."
Upon hearing Rictus' voice, Ambessa looked up from the map on her desk. She was relieved to have a moment away from the wretched thing. It was clearly some Piltovan cartographer's vanity project—more interested in aesthetics than accuracy. This was getting in the way of her ability to set up temporary patrols, with all but one company of the Fist back home, she didn't have the man power to patrol the border with Zaun, only the Academy itself. Without an accurate map she couldn't ensure the building, and by extension, Mel were safe from any potential attacks from Zaun.
"Get me another map." She handed the rolled up map to the nearest servant that had accompanied her to Piltover from Rokrund, a young Noxian girl. "See if you can talk to Councilor Medarda's... Secretary." Piltover's titles tasted absurd on her tongue. "Elora. Ask her if she can help you find a map that values functionality over embroidery."
"Yes, General." The girl saluted, fist to chest, the traditional Medarda salute, rather than bow like servants normally did. Ambessa's mouth twitched subtly in approval as she watched her leave the room.
As the girl slipped past Rictus, Ambessa looked to her first. "Yes?"
"Councilor Salo is awake." His voice rumbled, echoing throughout the spacious room. "He says he is willing to speak with you."
...
"Councilor Allira Salo, my condolences." Ambessa nodded as she entered the room. Despite the decadence of the Salo compound, and the master room in particular, the stench of blood mixed with medicine grounded her in the environment. It put her mind on alert, and the intricate tapestries draped over the wooden bedframe became associated the thin flaps of a medics tent.
"Spare me your pity." The man spat in response, flailing his arm at a nurse to shoo them away. To Ambessa, his thin frame coupled with his wild, uncontrolled movement, gave her the impression of a spoiled child. "I didn't summon you here to mourn my... condition."
Perhaps he was one, if he was this self centered during crisis.
"I was referring to your kin." She corrected, stepping inside the room. Rictus remained behind as the doors closed the fleeing nurse, dutifully assuming the position of a gaurd to ensure their conversation remained private. "I heard rumors that Councilors weren't the only casualties."
He inhaled as if stricken, his sour attitude cowed, for now. But as Ambessa walked closer to the foot of his bed, she saw the hurt and anger still simmering in his eyes.
"You want revenge." Ambessa went straight to the point, the way his eyes darkened in response affirmed it was the right move.
"I just don't understand them." He mumbled, almost too low to hear. Then he looked up. "Why!? Silco had just offered a peace deal, and he was going to get it. Why did he attack us? It's so cruel, so... so barbaric."
"It was cunning." Ambessa answered, and the councilman looked at her with bewilderment. "He found a weapon, from what I hear, a Hextech weapon, and immediately used it to strike the most devastating blow he could. His peace offer was a ploy to get all of Piltover's leaders in one room. In short, he struck for the head."
"But, that's so vile." He managed, a horrified look on his face.
"Is it?" Ambessa countered. "Your problem, Councilor Salo, is that you people don't understand war. You didn't even realize you were thrust into one until your opponents blade was hovering over your neck."
"So help us." Salo answered, sitting upright, managing what little bit of diginity he could in his position as he made his plea. "We may not understand war, but you do."
Ambessa had to stop herself from blinking.
"You realize what you're asking?" She asked.
"And I also know what I'm offering." He countered, his bandaged hand shaking as he extended it. "We get Noxian steel at our back, you get Hextech weapons."
She considered his hand, despite the few scratches it had picked up from rubble in the explosion, it was soft and unmarked by any hard work. As she grasped his with her own, muscular, calloused hands, she considered that she shouldn't be misled by the appearances of these people.
Twice now, she's misjudged a Piltovan leader. She should avoid making the same mistake again.