"My, my... how long has it been since..."

"Was that a question?"

With a chuckle, Xander briefly left his nostalgic trance and answered, "Rhetorical."

Surprisingly, it had been easy to get into the palace. Even with his disguise as a castle janitor, as well as his childhood living there, Xander had expected some resistance. Alas, Nocturne using nightmares to sleep-deprive many of the guards made many of them easily distracted. The rest... well, for him? A mage focused on mental states trained to be a saboteur and assassin? Xander didn't want to say his old guardians were sloppy, but their performance was disappointing.

Alas, he made it to the royal chambers without harm. The long halls were empty, their residents still busy at work. As night slowly fell, Xander prowled through familiar corridors and into an old room.

The shine of porcelain flooring immediately clued him in on the room's status as a washroom. The light within was minimal, that most probably wouldn't notice. With his eyes enhanced by Nocturne's possession, he could see his reflection clearly. He smirked at his uncanny wardrobe.

Oh, I wonder how you'll interpret this...

"Are you ready?" Nocturne's voice called from the back of his head.

"Of course," The Left Hand responded, "Why'd you ask? You remember your script, right?"

"I know enough to... what's your word... improvise," Nocturne assured, "I ask because we arrived at the last moment; Luxanna Crownguard is here."

Xander blinked behind his mask, "How'd you know?"

"Her soul shines bright, even here..."

The sound of a door creaked, followed by metal shuffling.

...And, her footsteps echo, Nocturne mentally concluded.

Indeed they do, Xander thought, But that isn't all... does she have an escort?

She does. Four more souls, Nocturne warned, Will we still go for the assault?

Yes. I anticipated this, Xander stood from his spot and moved to the room's door, Put an auditory illusion on the guards. Creepy as possible. Creative as you like.

The feeling of a weight being lifted off his body told Xander the demon was doing as complied. Shadows seeped into petricite walls, and Xander heard mumbles beyond the washroom's door. As Nocturne imposed himself back into his body, the metal caps of running boots echoed through the door.

Illusion, now.

Xander stepped through the door as silently as possible and peered his prey running through another door frame. Memories reminded him that they'd holed up in Lux's room; they likely wouldn't leave. The Left Hand snuck to a corner by a window and stayed silent.

What is your plan now? Nocturne asked, They are no match for you, but any conflict would garner attention.

Attention is what we want, but probably not that much, not yet, Xander admitted.

So what then?

As if summoned, one of the soldiers bolted out of the room, down the hall. He looked around, but didn't seem to be trying to find them. That only left only two possibilities; a bait, or a call for help.

That soldier's definitely going to call the alarms, Xander decided, Still leaves the question of getting in that room...

You already have an answer to that, don't you?

You know me too well, Xander glanced to the windows, Parkour works, but shadow traveling is so much more convenient, no?

Nocturne projected a vision of his deadpan stare into Xander's mind, Summoner, you are a shameless leech.

The Left Hand smirked as he stepped to the window, You know it. Now, let's begin.


The thing struck like a thunderbolt before she could react.

Wing-like blades shot past her and the guards, landing to flank the door. Moved by magic, the blades flipped and snapped the doors shot. The distraction didn't last long, but by the time Lux and her guards had turned around, it was too late.

As she watched, Lux's legs failed her out of a foreign fear. Smoky black spells choked her escorts' screams as the invader kept through the window over her. Landing before her bed, the invader's first right hook sent Praytor to the ground, unconscious. A left jab followed by a lightning-fast combination rang the dazed Zekiel's armor like a bell, and he was soon out of the fight as well. Genna recovered from the silencing spell and raised her blade to counterattack, but her wrist was caught, stopping the blow. The invader countered in turn with an elbow and an uppercut. Genna remained standing, but couldn't react to the roundhouse that sent her into the door.

With the escorts dealt with, the invader finally focused on Lux. White eyes pierced her soul with apathetic analysis. Through the invader's smoke-like magic aura, Lux saw a hand flick, as if summoning something. The blades from the door answered their master's call and flew to the invader's forearms. Armed, the invader stepped forward with slow deliberation. Lux crawled away, reaching the wall at the edge of her bed frame. The light mage opened her mouth to scream for help, but quick bolt of black mist quickly silenced her. Yet, as she sputtered at the spell and shut her eyes; as the invader closed in, blade ready; the fear in Lux's heart charged itself into action. Unbidden, and without care for the soldiers in her room, Lux yelled and released her magic.

The effects were instantaneous. The room lit up, every surface and crack illuminated by her magic. The fear Lux felt faded like mist, and the choking spell's effect wore off immediately. The burdens of the day disappeared from her mind, and for a moment, Lux forgot her current predicament. The high of releasing her magic for the first time in weeks cleared her mind of negativity; something the invader didn't seem to like.

The invader blocked its face from the light, but that didn't stop its shadowy aura from somewhat dissipating. Lux caught its glare as it recovered and watched its movements. As it glanced to the doorway, Lux reached to her closet. Her mage staff flew out, and at its tip she channeled a ball of magic.

"You're not getting away!"

The invader seemed determined to prove her wrong, ducking the spell and charging through the door with shoulder first. As it ran through the hallway, it turned to send another shadow bolt at her. But, the shadow faded before the light Lux's follow-up spell. The shadows on the invader were extinguished as the binding spell stuck it in a cage of bright magic beams.

A haunting howl came from the entity, and the blades clattered uselessly to the floor. With the mist clear, Lux could see the human frame of her attacker. He looked the part of a Mageseeker, with blue robes and a gray mask. The glow in his eyes - faded due to Lux's magic, but still present - implied some magical ability. Perhaps, like Sylas had been, he was a mage working for the Mageseeker order. But, atop the robes were dark steel armor pieces with red markings - runes. Garen's descriptions of Noxian armor came to mind, but having not seen any examples, she wasn't quite sure. The blades on the floor and the forearm cuffs seemed of different make as well, more organic and claw-like than the geometric shapes she'd seen of retrieved Noxian arms.

With her mind free of fear, confusion set in. The question of, "What are you?" left her mouth in a whisper.

The invader growled through the light binding, but its answer wasn't what broke the silence. A pained groan filled the hall. The invader glanced behind Lux, leading the mage to look at her doorway. Despite her bleeding lip and dented helmet in hand, a bruised Genna's main concern was her charge.

"You're... a mage?"

Before Lux could respond, a chill went through her. A silhouette appeared in front of her and kicked Genna onto her back before taking shape once more. The invader pointed one of his massive arm blades at Genna's throat.

"She is, and you'll forget about that..." the invader spoke in a distorted, two tone voice that seemed familiar to Lux, "...you, will won't yo- oh."

The invader retracted his blade, allowing Lux to see that Genna had been knocked out again. The invader chuckled, raising his arm blades.

"Good," the two-tone voice rasped, "We're all alone."

A pulse of darkness was released from the invader. As the shadows reached Lux, the light mage felt a change in atmosphere. It was as if lead had filled her veins, and chain bindings were tightening around her heart. In a black blur, the invader struck. Lux casted another binding spell, catching her attacker. The invader - or rather, its controller - predicted the attack. The body was blocked from the worst of the spell's effects, the spell fading from the blades' edges. Yet, more terrifying was the counterattack: from the invader's body came a ghost. A black claw of a form between muscle and smoke swatted away Lux's staff, whilst the other grabbed Lux's face and shoved her into a wall.

As the edges of Lux's vision darkened, the demon's white eyes glared at her, "You remember, don't you?"

The second thought Lux had following the question was that it had to have been a spell; the first thought was that she immediately remembered. She'd seen an entity like the one before her once. Memories of monsters, of men seeing things where others did not, of shady mists, of a young mage named Luca...

Through her squeezed mouth, Lux forced out a name, "… Fossbarrow…"

The demon loosened its grip on her face, allowing her to elaborate.

"…The demon from Fossbarrow… the one my great grandfather killed…"

"We persisted past your ancestor's strike," the demon corrected, dropping her to the ground, "He was right to fear that which he could not kill."

Lux sputtered, but rose to her knees and recollected herself, "He still defeated you."

"He did force us to disengage," the demon admitted, then chuckled, "That grants him - and you - our respect…"

It respects me... respects me because... Lux's eyes widened and she backed away into the wall, It takes me seriously because I'm a threat!

"You're here to kill me, then?"

Expecting a strike, Lux quickly stood up, leaning against the wall. Perhaps she'd have a better chance of dodging on her feet. It was slim, and the demon seemed to be magically stronger than even her. But, she was a Crownguard. She wasn't her brother, but she wouldn't back down; not to a monster threatening Demacian lives.

As the demon's dagger like eyes narrowed, she continued, "You're here to kill me for what my great grandfather did to you, and what I did to you."

The demon was silent. Smoke fell off its body in wisps as it glared. Lux knew it was pressing its presence on her; an anxious itch was sneaking up her spine.

"Well?!" She channeled some of her magic to ward off the demon's, but the intention clearly had been met. She was frustrated, afraid, and confused, so she asked again, "That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

For a moment, it looked as though the demon would continue its silent stare down. But after a second, it did the one worse thing it could do.

It laughed.

Free from its host, the demon's chortles sounded akin to a dying man's gasps. It put a hand over its face to cover a non-existent mouth, all the while expelling more shadows. Lux could only watch, waiting for the demon's next action.

"I could kill you..." it admitted, "The screams from this castles' hosts... their emotions... it would be sweet... but no. I am not here to kill you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Among other things..." The demon chuckled again, "I am here to thank you."


According to their intel, the eastern wing of the Mageseeker Headquarters was its least populated sector. In peace times, a handful of the order's scholarly types would spend their time in the wing, analyzing the artifacts within. Yet, most Mageseekers felt that items of magic were best kept locked away, rather than studied. In addition, actually seeking out mages proved more productive to the cause; a sentiment only heightened with recent events. A bi-hourly skeleton crew patrol was the only deployment to the wing, and they were off their shift. In short, an easy target to say the least. They all knew this, and they were all in agreement.

At least, for the most part.

"I still think we should've waited for the signal," Erret muttered.

"And wait thirty more minutes in Mageseeker shit for a signal that we may or may not be able to detect from the sewers?" Yin scoffed, "We'll be fine. Even Gerris agreed."

The ex-reckoner nodded, "Even if you managed to get a disguise, you'd probably have been caught. Between the sewage smell and you simply being a soldier in a weird place, someone would've suspected you. At least here we can deal with any of them together."

"True, but it's not us I'm worried about," Erret explained, "Xander's probably using his signal as a time frame. If we finish up early-"

"He'll probably be fine. He has a demon at his beck and call," Yin assured, "And with the task he's given, we'll probably be here for a while."

"...You're probably right," Erret let out a half-hearted chuckle, "And it's not like we're basically in the same position as him. Surrounded by an army and all?"

"Mhm. Palace probably has more men though."

As they rose up a circular staircase to the first then second floor, moonlight reminded them of another reason their infiltration route came from the east wing. Through intricately patterned windows, a view of the palace could be seen. Of course, as the center of the city, one could observe the palace so long as there wasn't anything in the way. But, the east wing of the palace was home to its residential sector. Erret had imagined he'd had to have sneaked ahead, caught a visual cue, then picked up Yin and Gerris from the sewage entryway. It wasn't a long run, and as far as he was concerned being along but with no enemies was far safer than in a group surrounded by a few; never mind the compound at full capacit-

As he reached the floor of the compound, a blinding light from his sight snapped him from his brooding. He turned to face it, but by the time he had the light show had ended. However, from the sounds of her groans, it seemed that Yin had seen what had happened.

"That..." she shook her head and blinked, "It came from the palace. One room lit up."

"That was... Lux, then, right?" Gerris asked, "She's a light mage, wasn't that it?"

"Yep, so she got to Xander. Or probably he got to her," Erret sighed, "Trust Xander to pick a signal that probably would've blinded me if we stuck to the plan."

More light came from the palace, which came with the sound of a howl. The light maintained for a moment, but was quickly blot out. Another flash came, but it was softer, more restrained.

"Yeah. Fucking annoying," Yin's voice was strained as she recovered, but she quickly sobered up, "Wait... you hear that?"

Without their words polluting the air, Erret could. Given what he knew, the sounds he heard were abnormal. He'd heard that the Demacians didn't have war drums; the disciplined steps of Demacian soldiers and calvary produced the beats by which they fought. Yet, faintly below them and faintly above them, Erret could only make out a rush of footsteps; a panicked stampede.

"Well, that's a distraction if I've ever seen one," Gerris muttered, "But, if they find us on the way there-"

"Yep, we're toast," Erret finished, glancing down the hall, "Yin, how far away are we from the main vaults?"

The sound of footsteps echoed from the other side of the hall.

"...If I'm not wrong, too far," Yin shot up, "Through that door!"

The door in question was made of petricite wood with a silver handle; not unexpected given their location, but unusual compared to the oak doors they'd seen on the way. Nonetheless, the footsteps grew closer; they'd have to investigate from within. Erret opened the door, saw and heard nobody within, and beckoned for the others to get in. He followed right after and softly shut the door.

"Anyone in here?" he asked.

"I can't feel any blood, so no," Yin replied.

"How much blood is outside?"

"Nothing yet... no, wait, there's... a lot."

Through the petricite door, Erret heard metal thuds as at least five pairs of boots hit the floor. The saboteur could make out confused mumbles, but none of the words within.

"They don't know we're here," Erret reported.

Behind him, Yin sighed, "Well, that's good."

"Mhm," Gerris idly replied, "Sadly, we're still working with a time limit."

Erret and Yin turned around to ask why, only to see Gerris standing by a desk with a lit candle. The answer quickly came to them; they were in an office that was currently on use.

"We trade," Gerris ordered, "If anyone comes through I'll knock'em out. You two start looking through this crap. Maybe there's something we can find here."

"Right, on it," they both responded.

The room was rather lavish in design, with the lit candle being part of a carved set of three. It was clearly a scented set as well, given how the smell of sewage had lightened since they entered. The right wall from the door was covered by a bookshelf that was only a quarter full. Another quarter's worth of tomes was strewn in random places around the room, set in a way to give the appearance of organized. Yin took to investigating them.

So, Erret focused on the desk. Of intricate design, its aesthetic was wasted by its inelegant cover of papers. As he ghosted over the pages, he noticed battle plans for types of mages, commissions for petricite to different battalions, and nothing specifically interesting. Items of that type, Erret believed, he'd find in the cabinet behind the desk. The promise was only heightened when he opened the cabinet, revealing a few folders and...

"Safe," he announced, "No key. Yin?"

"Of course there's no key," the hemomancer teased, "And here I was worrying that I wouldn't have a challenge today."

Erret traded places with his partner and watched her pull her magic. Yin bit against her thumb, bringing forth a prick of blood. From the open wound blood flowed, but not down skin; under Yin's control the blood floated in place. The hemomancer pressed the bloody thumb to the safe's keyhole. With the blood finding each crack and crevice in the keyhole, the safe quickly opened.

"Alright then, let's see what we have here..." Yin snatched up the first file and gaped, "Huh. That's... oh boy."

"What'd you find?"

She handed him the file. It consisted of two old sheets ripped from a book and a new sheet with a heading and list. The older sheets seemed to be written on in old Noxian; a curiosity that likely would've piqued Xander's interest. Of course, that was assuming the topic heading on the neeast sheet didn't demand the Left Hand's attention at first glance.

"Not bad for our first stolen document," Erret concluded.

His lover chuckled, "Not quite. Whoever's office this is, they've got great reads. Rune War histories, old lineages, studies of petricite, and those are just the first three!"

"So we'll be in here for a while," Gerris assumed from the doorway. He was quiet for a moment, then continued, "Well, we don't currently seem to be blockaded; the troops moved on. But we should probably hurry up before whoever this office belongs to gets back."

Erret nodded, "Right… Gerris, anything by the door to tell us who that'd be?"

"No. You have anything on the desk?"

"Nope. Just papers."

"Have you checked under?"

"Not yet, I'll have a look… Oh. Oh shit."

"Well, what is it?"

"We're getting out of this room ASAP."

From the vault, Yin poked her head out, "Wait, why?"

Erret let the golden mask on the desk speak for him.


"Thank me? For what?"

It disturbed Xander that he enjoyed watching Lux's incredulous face. He hoped to himself that it was satisfaction at seeing his plan work, but he wasn't about to give himself the benefit of the doubt. With a breath, he steeled his heart, and watched the play of his making.

Nocturne continued the conversation, "Your actions in the past few months have given Demacia more cause to fear than I could ever have hoped to achieve. Not since the Rune Wars have I partaken in such a feast..."

A twitch on Lux's face betrayed her inner rage. Yet, her voice remained that annoying resolute Demacian tone.

"Then you'll be sad to hear that I've learned from my mistakes. I won't let this kingdom fall for my sins."

"Oh?" Nocturne's rasp lessened, and he approached Lux again, "And how will you do that, mage?"

Lux hesitated to answer, so Nocturne grabbed her face again. The demon knew the answer already, as did he, but Xander figured giving that clue - the ability of demons to steal memories - wasn't too terrible a giveaway. Still, he grimaced as Lux squirmed in the demon's grasp.

Nocturne let go of Lux again with a chuckle, and Xander idly logged in his head that he'd have to give the demon some sort of prize for his performance.

"You cannot play to both sides forever," Nocturne declared after a pause, "You will choose... wrong, I think, heh..."

"What's... what're you talking about?" Lux backed away. The invasive nature of memory stealing seemed to have shattered her courage; she clearly wanted nothing to do with Nocturne.

"You serve people who would kill you if they knew the truth. You serve true monsters with pools of blood on their hands."

"You killed my great grandfather, and he wasn't the first, or the last!" Lux retorted with her back against the wall, "And you've dragged innocents like him into this!"

Through his mask, Xander saw Lux point a finger at him. He closed his eyes and slowly breathed, calming himself from the fear that he'd been caught.

Nocturne replied as his summoner calmed himself, "Murder, manipulation... All things your leaders do. I am a demon; this is my life. Your leaders are men; they choice this. You serve demons of skin and flesh, and you still believe you are in the right? If you wished for a safer Demacia, you made the wrong choice that day..."

"If you think I'm siding with Sylas, then I'm going to have to disappoint you," Lux replied, taking steps away from Nocturne.

Nocturne projected his mood through the hall. Xander knew that Lux could imagine the demon's smirk.

"Then you will fail to protect what you hold dear. And I will come to thank you again."

"You won't."

"Oh?"

Lux took a step away from Nocturne as she declared, "I'm not letting you get away this time!"

Nocturne's eyes narrowed in amusement, but quickly widened, "Oh."

Before Xander could send a mental message to ask, Lux bolted towards him. The shade of black quickly gained on her, but the light mage's head start was just large enough. Lux clasped Xander's head, and even through shut eyelids, Xander's world was filled with warmth and light. The Left Hand didn't mind the former, but the latter burned like a star. He yelled at the overload, which was thankfully soon replaced with a chill and shadows.

You're on the ground, Nocturne quickly informed, Get up!

Alright, give me a sec.

With a groan of effort, Xander opened his eyes. Sensation returned to his body and he felt the hard floor on his back. He also felt a warm weight on his stomach. When his eyes focused, Xander saw Lux's blue eyes, full of worry and concern, staring down at him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, "Did that work?"

Xander didn't reply, instead slowing his breathing again. After mentally pushing aside the compromising position he was in, he growled and cleared his throat. As Lux panicked, Xander grabbed her wrist and spoke with Nocturne's voice.

"Not quite."

The demon sent a jump-scare spell to the Crownguard mage, forcing her off with a yelp of fear. As Xander recovered, a question grew in the Left Hand's head.

You noticed something before Lux blasted me, didn't you? Xander asked as he pulled Lux closer to him, Lux's gambit wouldn't have worked, so why get close to me?

Why do you think? Nocturne snorted before answering the question, a squad of soldiers will turn the corner soon. Including some old friends.

Really? Them too? Behind his mask, Xander smirked. Despite some resistance, the Left Hand wrapped an arm around Lux's waist. The remaining arm lay by his side, its blade ready.

Well, I suppose a challenge was coming...


"Remember, do not engage until we give the signal; my sister is hostage to the enemy!"

As the men at Garen's side affirmed their leader's orders, the Might of Demacia shared a glance with his friend. Jarvan had fortunately been sparring with Xin Zhao before the alert came, and was armed and armoured for the task at hand. Where the seneschal was currently preparing the rest of the guard, should the worst come to pass, Jarvan followed him, Drakebane in hand. From the look in Jarvan's eyes, it seemed lance of the Lightshields would have its fill by night's end.

"Jarvan, are you alright?" Garden cautiously asked.

"I'll be fine," he replied without looking at him. Jarvan seemed to sense Garen's concerned stare, however, then explained, "My father died in this palace. I won't let Lux meet the same fate."

"We won't."

For a moment, Jarvan glanced at Garen and shares a brief smile. He quickly dropped it, however, turning to focus ahead. Garen could only do the same. The two men led their men through the royal halls, eventually turning the corner to Lux's room.

The sight Garen met chilled his blood.

The hallway to his sister's room was infected with darkness. Tendrils of shadow crawled the corners and a dark stain blackened the petricite walls. By the relatively untouched doorway of Lux's room were a couple of bodies, though whether they were dead or not was a mystery to him. The air felt heavy, not unlike the various monster dens he'd been in. The memories of the Stone Hag came to his mind's eye, though the scene before him seemed worse. Worse than then, when a new recruit's life lay at stake; worse than the ruins at the Noxian warfront, where his life and a prisoner's faced death; worse than Fossbarrow, where a demon made a town of innocent men and women its plaything.

At its center, a man stood. Robes like a cloak of death, armor black and unforgiving, eyes pale and without mercy. And as it turned to face them, it revealed its hostage angel.

Garen knew Lux was trying to act strong. She gritted her teeth and squirmed in the invader's grasp, trying but failing to break free. She glared at her captor, but that hardness was a facade. Her fearful gaze met Garen's, and the Might of Demacia could almost hear her cries for help. Garen responded to Lux with a look of assured confidence before meeting the invader's with cold determination.

"Not a step closer, Demacians," The invader finally addressed them, pointing at them with teeth-like arm-blades, "I cannot guarantee her safety if you do."

"Monster!" Jarvan spat with rage, "Release her or face the wrath of Demacia!"

"Or?" The invader's echoey voice was clearly distorted by magic; an ability that only heightened its arrogance, "Thank you for deigning to negotiate with me."

"You are surrounded," Garen declared, "The palace is under high alert; you will not make it out of here alive. Return my sister to us, and I'll make your death swift."

"You really don't know how to haggle," the invader spoke with a different voice, less alien but more egotistical, "But, your ancestor wasn't any different, so..."

"It's the demon from Fossbarrow!" Lux cut in, struggling in the demon's grip, "It w-"

The invader covered Lux's mouth and spoke with its first voice, "Silence... is preferable to your prattling."

Despite the fear that crawled down his spine, Garen growled. He took a step forward, to which the invader stepped back, closer to the hallway's window.

"I'd be willing to extend your territory," the invader spoke with its decidedly more human voice, "That line is now the one you won't cross. Or she gets it."

"I thought you weren't going to kill me," Lux muttered with irritation.

"Me, cutting off perfectly viable paths to success?" the invader chuckled, "Those Demacian limits don't chain me."

Emboldened by the secret Lux let out, Garen took another step. The invader flinched then put a blade to Lux's throat.

"I've been generous, but that's it!" the invader snapped, "Not a step closer!"

Garen stepped back and sent a glance to Jarvan. After sharing a nod, the two set their weapons on the ground. Their soldiers - at least, the ones armed with spears - followed suit.

"Ah. That's good," the invader crooned, "Well, I'm sure you have your questions, however few. Ask away."

Garen blinked, "What?"

"Questions. Quandaries... Mysteries that you expect us to answer," the invader switched its voice to its original with the final point, "You can ask. We shall answer."

Jarvan joined Garen's side and pointed Drakebane at the invader, "The crown will not have your empty lies."

"My prince!"

Garen traded a glance with Jarvan, urging caution by expression. In turn, Demacia's Exemplar responded not with rage but conviction. It seemed he wouldn't be moved.

"Jarvan, your words..."

"I know, Garen," his eyes held a solemn expression underlaid with focus, "Trust me, Garen."

The tiniest smirk twitched on Jarvan's face before returning to the grim frown he previously sported. The prince glanced back at the invader, who was feigning a yawn. The act made Garen's blood boil, but he kept his feet planted and still.

"Are you done?" the invader asked.

"Quite so, wretch."

"I'll let that insult slide. Now, you were saying?"

"... Your lies will not stain our ears. Swear to me, the king, that your words shall be true! Only then shall we ask our questions!"

A chuckle came from the demon, "You would ask for a demon's oath?"

"You have shown us great generosity. Even if you are guilty of crimes punishable by death, we will reciprocate."

Garen did his best to hide his double take, and Jarvan seemed to give the same effort to sneaking a cheeky grin to his friend. The Might of Demacia shook his head as he realised Jarvan's plan. He imagined when they were to distract the invader, they would be using their martial skills. Perhaps in reflection of his new throne, Jarvan was trying a different approach. It was still obscenely dangerous, given who had her life on the line. But, given that the invader's arms were by their sides, and that the alleged killer was showing amusement, it seemed to be working.

"We are honoured," the invader replied, "But, we must confess, we were unaware you had ascended to the throne."

Jarvan's grimace took a sincere turn, but his response was resolute, "My father was king before me, and I am his heir. I had hoped not to take the throne until I was ready. But, my kingdom's enemy will not wait, so I shall not."

"Bold. Brash. One wonders if you are up to the task," the demon mused, stepping away all the while, "But alas, you have requested I retract my silver tongue, so I shall hold my thoughts. Ask away."

Jarvan glanced at Garen, and the Dauntless captain took his queue to ask, "Who and what are you?"

"...I am Nocturne, demon of dreams. My domain is the mind, and my weapon is fear."

Jarvan cautiously asked next, "Why are you here?"

"In this hallway, with the lady Crownguard as my hostage?"

"Speak true or die silent."

"Very well," Nocturne sighed, amused, "She is an interesting character. Her morals, her blood, her connections..."

As the invader listed his reasons, Garen glanced over its shoulder. The window had reflected moonlight onto the scene, but for a split second that light had been blocked. He fought a grin.

"... your families; Crownguard and Lightshield; you are the engine by which Demacia runs. That your kingdom has become such a feeding ground for my kind... I sought to investigate the... quality of its leaders."

Jarvan growled at the demon's implication, "You have been generous to us, so we shall be equally generous to you. That will be your last insult before we remove you from this plane of existence."

"Heh, my apologies," Nocturne - or perhaps, the other presence within, said, "But with that in mind, I think I'll end when I'm ahead."

Nocturne loosened his grip on Lux and swatted behind himself with his free arm. The massive blade attached to it slashed the window behind the invader wide open, shattering the glass and sending it flying off the face of the palace. A nightly breeze entered the hall, accompanied by silver moonbeams.

As the demon stepped away from the escort group, he shoved Lux to the ground. Garen quickly approached, sword ready to deliver judgement. But, he stopped just as fast when Nocturne rested one of his arm blades by Lux's throat.

"You can have her when I'm gone," the demon spoke, "Until then, stay."

"Our threats were not empty," Garen warned, "You won't leave this palace alive."

"I'll take that bet."

The invader chuckled once and hopped onto the window sill. With Lux free from the invader's blades, Garen rushed to his sister's side. Nocturne watched as Garen collected his sister and backed into her bedroom's doorway. Garen raised his blade to the invader, to no response. But, he wasn't looking for one; he just needed time. Hard thuds told Garen that Jarvan was charging behind him, but his ears were to the window, beyond the invader. With a grin, Garen watched as moonlight gave way to darkness, yet the invader did not notice.

"I'll be seeing you around," the invader started, before turning, and without a doubt, dropping his smirk, "Ah. Well played."

The screech of an eagle heralded the arrival of their ace in the hole. Recently summoned for special orders, the newly appointed head of the ranger-knights was by far their most adaptable soldier. With her partner, the azurite eagle Valor, Quinn of Uwendale was a swift, often unseen threat that struck before her enemies realised it. The invader was only slightly more competent than the ranger's usual targets in that regard.

Nocturne was only able to lighten the effects of the kick Quinn sent. The strike, originally aimed at the demon's head, instead struck him on his chest. The strike sent him down to the hallway, and if not for magic-boosted movements, the invader likely would've met his end on Jarvan's lance. Instead, the invader made a deft roll, quickly swept Jarvan under his legs, and charged the soldiers. Swift slashes from the arm-blades neutralised the hastily formed defensive line, either by defanging the soldier's spears or, in two cases, slashing arms off entirely. As the victims' scream of pain filled the hall, the invader stole one victim's spear and dropped... something. It was far too small to be a smoke bomb, yet the second it hit the floor, the junction was filled with a red mist.

Three seconds too late, Jarvan got to the line. With swift waves of his spear, Jarvan cleared some of the mist. The invader bolted to the door of the apartments before turning to briefly face Jarvan.

"Take the mist, we can call it even!" the invader jested.

Jarvan approached, "Damn you-"

Too late. With his final words, the invader continued his escape.

Jarvan turned to the party, "Quinn-"

The ranger-knight of Uwendale flew past, her bird carrying her, "Already on it!"

Jarvan nodded as the ranger-knight passed him, then addressed the rest of the men, "You and Garen, protect Lux and the wounded. Everyone else, follow me!"

The king didn't bother listen to his men's affirmations; he knew they would follow their orders. After sharing a glance with Garen, he took Drakebane in his two hands and charged, point first. As the footsteps of the men faded, Garen turned to Lux, only to find her sister already by one of the wounded's side.

"Lux..."

"I'm fine, Garen, I'm alright," she assured with a frown, "But... he won't be."

Lux had offered a hand to the maimed soldier, who grasped onto it like a lifeline. The soldier's entire left side was stained with blood, and his cut arm lay limp by his feet. The other wounded man was attended to by the man Jarvan assigned to him. Both groaned and squirmed in pain, and held lost, shaken expressions on their face.

"Captain Crownguard," the soldier attended by Lux whimpered, "I... that was my sword arm..."

Garen put a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder, "You served well. We could not ask for more."

The soldier teared up, "My family can't... I need to..."

Lux caught the implication, "You and your family will be compensated. You helped save me today. The crown does not forget those who serve it."

The soldier could give a weak nod and return to his whimpering. Unfortunately, the other maim victim wasn't as stable; coughs echoed from the opposite side of the hallway. Garen turned to his assigned man.

"Private, how is he?"

"Not good. I think he's going into shock," came the reply after a short moment, "C'mon, breathe!"

Garen was at the other victim's side in a moment, placing his massive hands on the victim's chest to start compressing. Yet, before he could do anything, the victim screamed once, then devolved into coughs.

"I'm fine, I'm fine... " the victim's voice trailed into silence before rising into a panic as he looked to his stump, "Oh protector, I'm not fine!"

"You'll be alright," Garen assured, only to be cut off.

"No I won't; my stump is... is...!"

Garen looked to the stump and fought a yelp of surprise as a red glow reflected on his face. After a short double take, he glanced around the hallway. He noticed the shards of glass strewn across the hallway floor, but it was Lux who found the stone cork.

She picked it up with a cautious gasp, "It's magic... but I don't know what type. Garen, do you have an idea?"

It took Garen only a couple of seconds to put the pieces together. He approached Lux's soldier with his maimed arm.

"I'm going to connect your arm to your stump," he simply stated, "I'm sorry for your pain."

Before the soldier could respond, Garen did as he stated. To his full expectation, the soldier yelled in pain. Less expected came the red glow, and Garen noticed the red mist the hallway was dosed in grew thinner. Finally, the maimed arm grabbed him, and the soldier's exclamations gave way to stunned silence. Using his reattached arm, he sat up, wincing in pain a bit, but otherwise perfectly fine.

"... are you a mage?" he eventually asked, horrified more at his limb than the subject of his question.

Stuffing down the irony of the soldier's question, Garen corrected him, "I'm not. But, the invader clearly is. He used hemomancy; the magic of blood."

Lux's face contorted in disgust, "Blood magic?"

"It's a Noxian specialty; I've fought people who used it on the warfront," Garen growled to himself and stood up, "I have to help Jarvan."

"Garen, wait!"

Lux grabbed at his arm with one hand, but used the other to clasp his sword. Not expecting the move, Garen could not stop the blade from being stolen.

"I'm going to help," Lux declared.

"No, you're not," Garen rebuked, "I'm not going to let you get killed!"

Lux raised her head to reply, but stopped herself and looked away. After a moment, she handed Garen back his sword; but, it wasn't with a dejected expression. As he reclaimed his weapon, Garen looked to his sister's eyes and saw her conviction manifest in bright, glowing eyes. A quick glance at his weapon confirmed to Garen that Lux had channeled some of her magic into it; it too shined, albeit with subtle light

"I'll stay and help the wounded," she replied, "Stop Nocturne. Remember Fossbarrow."

As he put the implications together in his head, Garen slowly nodded. He turned away, and after a moment of hesitation, started to run. Enchanted blade in hand, the Might of Demacia went to rejoin the hunt.


He would give the Demacians that; he had severely underestimated them.

After forcing Quinn to retreat by giving Valor a roundhouse kick (and likely breaking some of the bird's hollow bones; he left them a hemomancy healer's vial just in case), Xander had expected the resistance to crumble. Then came the seemingly endless horde of Demacian soldiers, along with a few Dauntless sprinkled in. Three spears, two dozen spearheads removed from their shafts, and a four limbs of each type cut off a man later, among other injuries, and he still wasn't out of the palace.

Sidestepping a minotaur guard's bull rush and cutting its Achilles heel, the Left Hand sighed. He really did ask for it.

A second minotaur guard charged him, but a skeletal astral claw courtesy of Nocturne redirected him into the door Xander was eying. Following the fool and impaling his hand with a stolen spear, Xander looked up and realised another mistake. Met with the points of various blades, the Left Hand had only one option left to him.

Nocturne, get me some beasts!

Rather than reply, Nocturne did just that. The demon temporarily left his body to send a flurry of strikes, sending the blade points to the side. With space secured, the demon sunk into the petricite floor, dousing it in inky black. From the oily shadows, shades of Nocturne's creation came. Impish creatures reflected fear of the magical yordles, whilst human-sized sillhoetes armed with angular weapons reflected fears of Noxus. At the circle's center, Nocturne conjured their ride out of the palace; the two-headed pegasus of fear, the Duskwraith.

After quickly stealing one more spear from the floor, Xander mounted the Duskwraith. Before the shadow vanguard, the Demacians folded and parted. Whilst Xander had spent most of his Noxian days as an assassin, the memories from his youth learning to joust and lance from horseback still remained. The stead supply of blood filling the air, enhancing his skills with hemomancy spells was testament to that.

Where do we go? Nocturne asked mentally.

There should be a bridge nearby. Failing that, there's a balcony a few minutes away, Xander replied, We should be on the eastern half of the castle now. Most soldiers will be coming from the military district, so leaping off the side of King's Rock on the side opposite of it should be relatively safer. From there, we use illusions to hide our escape to the nearest sewer.

Simple enough? You're still jumping off of a mountain. You're still human.

Well, when I say leap, I mean use your blades to slow my fall and stagger my way down.

Fair enough... your left!

Xander leaned to the right and dodged a flurry of crossbow bolts. Though she worked better with her partner, Quinn was still a threat; and she seemed pissed. With Quinn's barrage blocking view of his left side, Xander could only guess at what was coming. Never mind having to guard himself whilst leaning on the side of a horse. Spearing a man through the shoulder gained him a shield to help with the effort, but that traded protection for more blind spots.

His forced ignorance left its mark eventually. The only clue that something was going to happening was Garen yelling his famous catchphrase ("For Demacia!") as if it wouldn't be a stupid play if not for the situation. Xander's view shifted down as the Duskwraith's front legs were cleaved. Deft movements shifted him into a roll, forcing the follow up slash from Garen to miss. The strike opened the door he was aiming for, and using Garen's broad chest as a jumping pad, Xander easily got to his destination.

Moonlight illuminated to Xander the extent of his situation. On the other side of the bridge, a defensive line had already been constructed. Spearmen stood, shoulder to shoulder, in front of men armed with crossbows, and at their head was an armored man with a long dark-gray ponytail and a grim expression. Xin Zhao, armed with his three-talon spear, blocked the way back through the palace. Xander didn't need to look to know Garen, Jarvan and Quinn had taken the other exit. As per his plan, there was no way to go but down.

"Men, stand down!" Garen's voice called, "We shall handle this."

At that declaration, Xander turned to face Garen's party. The Might of Demacia split off from his defensive line, joined by Jarvan. It seemed to Xander that Garen wished for a duel, or at the very least some sort of final confrontation. Xander saw no reason not to appease him; it was far easier to run from two men than from an army.

Footsteps behind him heralded Xin Zhao's approach as well. Alright, three men.

"You'd have a better chance killing me with your army," Xander commented, Nocturne's voice joining his in a decidedly unholy chorus, "But, you three are skilled, so..."

"We said we would banish you from our realm," Jarvan reminded, "It is a promise I intend to keep."

"Intent matters not when you are incapable," Xander shot back, "But, enough of that. We've made our taunts, so shall w-"

The whistle of wind was Xander's only clue that Xin Zhao had struck behind him. If not for Nocturne enhancing his abilities, he doubted he would've dodged the strike; even then, the strike drew blood from a shallow cut to his arm. The clink of blade parts gave Jarvan's strike away as well, prompting a parry from Xander's left arm-blade as he forced Xin Zhao away with a stab from his right. Xander predicted Garen to strike next, and sure enough, with his trademark downward strike, he did. A sidestep to the right followed by a slashing spin reset the fight, but Xander remained surrounded.

The Demacian trio was quick to capitalise on their advantage. With three simultaneous strikes sent his way, Xander couldn't dodge; only meet the attack. Having a demon the ability to temporarily be incorporeal helped, however; through shadow-magic, Nocturne went through the strikes and countered from behind, using an arm blade to nick at their legs. Distracted by the demon, they were left defenceless to distancing kicks from Xander.

Were they the regulars from before, it would've worked. Alas, the three Demacians were equals to him at best, if not more skilled than him without his magic. Whilst Xin Zhao took to fighting Nocturne's projection, Jarvan and Garen were more than a match for him. Despite quick, successive dodges, Xander's stolen spear lasted only two strikes from Drakebane. The cyclone of strikes left him open to a single strike from Garen.

The strike sent Xander into the bridge's stone fencing; a painful feeling that was thankfully softened by Nocturne's familiar chill. Of course, it wasn't simple enough; Nocturne didn't need to return to his body to defend him.

Why?

Garen's blade is enchanted. Light magic, as he replied, Nocturne raised Xander's arms. Even with the demon's support they shuddered under the Might of Demacia, I imagine a poor exorcism attempt.

Ah, quick thinking, eh Nocturne? Xander grit his teeth as another strike came, Disengage my body, appear for a moment, then leave. Then hide beneath the bridge. Bring the blades, that should fool them.

I was just thinking that. Oh, this is going to suck. Make a sound when I do?

Of course. We must sell it, no?

Even if Nocturne didn't will it, Garen's final strike forced Xander's arm-blade down. Garen's blade dug a bit into Xander's shoulder, prompting a yelp of pain. Or rather, it would've naturally; Xander, joined by Nocturne, gave a haunting howl that seemed to intimidate even Garen as he struck him. The fear gave way to awe and rage as Nocturne appeared, then to disappointment as the demon seemed to escape.

As Nocturne's presence left him, his numbing effect gave way to the pain of Garen's strike. Xander growled at the sensation, forgoing his magic filter; an act that caught the Dauntless captain's attention. Closing his eyes and giving a hiss of apparent pain, the Left Hand prepared to draw upon his acting experience. He opened them to see brown eyes in concern, and replied with fear.

"No, no... I was..."

"It's alright," Garen assured after a moment's thought, "The demon controlled you - it isn't your fault."

Xander backed away into the fence, away from Garen, "No, no, no-"

Jarvan appeared from behind Garen; he seemed to catch on, "You'll be pardoned. Nobody can blame you for being tricked by a greater power."

Xander turned his back on them, crawling away, "No, you don't understand... you don't..."

Through spaces in the fences, Xander heard a howling sensation. Nocturne got the message. The Left Hand grinned under his mask, and he feared his smile would peak under it when Garen grabbed his shoulder.

"Mageseeker, it's alright!" the Dauntless vanguard assured, only to be reduced to stunned silence when Xander grabbed his scarf in turn.

"You don't understand, heh," the Left Hand couldn't resist the urge to give a creepy giggle as he replied, "Hahaha... see, I chose this."

As Xander dropped his last healing vial on the ground, a hand of shadow pulled Garen away, restraining him. A pink mist covered him, and by the time Jarvan and Xin Zhao had recovered from the surprise, Xander rose from it, a dark angel. Nocturne's blades formed wings, and from him emanated an aura of smoke. Whilst Raum was more powerful thanks to being directly fed by Noxian politics for so long, Nocturne's demon flare was still a sight to behold.

"The light of the era is fading," Nocturne spoke through Xander, though he injected some of his charm into the speech, "I shall return to snuff it out. Change comes to this land; I am its herald."

The demon flare faded, and Xander landed on the fencing. With the magic gone, the Demacian troops came to converge on him. Alas, it was too late. Nocturne's blades slunk to his arms, ready to be impaled into thecsliff to slow his descent. To add insult to injury, Xander gave a graceful bow, dodging crossbow bolts in the process.

"Until we meet again."

And with that, the Left Hand of Noxus jumped, escaping into the night.


"Damn it!" Jarvan's outburst was as short as it was explosive, and the prince quickly switched gears. He turned to a Dauntless captain, "Organise the troops; that assassin cannot be allowed to leave the city!"

"Already done, my prince," Xin Zhao cut in, "I had runners alert the men at the gates. Spare captains have already initiated a curfew."

"Good... good," Jarvan sighed with disappointment. A thought quickly jolted him out of his resentment, however, "And Uncle, it's king."

"King?"

"The kingdom is under siege from more enemies than ever; it can no longer wait for me to be ready. I will take the throne tomorrow."

Xin Zhao gaped for a moment, before giving a respectful nod and a restrained, yet proud smile, "By your leave, my king, I shall serve."

A similar smile traced Jarvan's face for a moment before he nodded. As Xin Zhao turned to leave, Jarvan turned his attention to Garen. For a moment, anger boiled in his throat. Demacia's Exemplar quenched it quickly, then addressed his friend.

"It wasn't your fault that you were deceived," he finally said, "How's Lux?"

"She's fine, but shaken," Garen replied, "She also found that the red mist Nocturne left was blood. I believe he was using hemomancy."

"Hemomancy? What for?"

Garen held a troubled look before responding, "It seemed to be a regenerative spell. The maimed soldiers' stumps glowed red, and when we put the cut limbs to them they reattached themselves."

"... Nocturne's host said he chose this..." Jarvan reflected, "He must have been a Mageseeker who betrayed the order. That would explain how a mage survived this long whilst getting captured. The demon must've been held by them, then-"

"No, Jarvan, Nocturne wasn't held by the Mageseekers. You heard Lux; it was the Fossbarrow demon."

"Then why was a Mageseeker playing host to it?"

"... I don't know," Garen sighed, "Perhaps my uncle-in-law will know better."

"Perhaps..."

As if summoned by the conversation, a woman in blue robes parted the gathered deployment of soldiers. She wore a grey half-mask and held a customary Mageseeker Graymark in her hand. She kneeled before Jarvan.

"My prince, apologies for the late arrival," she said, "I wish I could've helped."

"Rise," Jarvan ordered, "Now, since you weren't here to aid with containing this demon, I assume you have something to report?"

The woman grimaced and averted her eyes from Jarvan's gaze, "The Mageseekers have been... busy tonight.

"Busy?" Jarvan's irritation gave way in his tone, "What issue is more important than a demon assaulting the palace?"

The mageseeker hesitated before answering.

"There was a breach at the Mageseeker vaults... Lord Eldrett was nearly killed."


Author's Note: I'd continue onto the next scene, but this chapter is already the longest I've written thus far. I'll be adding more pictures soon, hopefully within the week; if you want to check them out, check the AO3 crosspost or check out my DeviantArt, which is linked in my profile.

Thanks for the support thus far. Please leave a review; I appreciate any feedback I get for the fic, as it can help me improve or show where I'm succeeding. See you next chapter.