Month 9
They welcomed me back as a hero. An official officer under Medarda's legion and my own warband to command as I see fit. It's nothing that I ever wanted. Never would I imagine seeing myself being applauded as a military prodigy. As I knelt before my grandmother, my commander, Ambessa Medarda, brought down the clan ceremonial axe to my shoulder to acknowledge me.
"I, General Medarda, hereby fully acknowledge your deeds...."
My deeds...what I've done to Bel'zhun, the people will never forget. Anticipating the obvious, I spent all night meticulously writing fortifications on the armor and weapons of my war band's equipment. Ambessa may turn her nose up at this approach, but from what I've gathered, she can't fully disagree with my caution. Shurima covets magic as closely as the sands that define their realm. As much as I try to distance myself from the people that make up my warband, I can't help but look out for them. I see myself in each of them, disturbingly enough. By whatever manner which they arrived under Noxus's control, they found a home. For the life of me, I can't tell if their welcome to Noxus was anywhere as gentle as my meeting with my siblings. And as I recall, the only difference was their persistence in bringing me in. Still had to get my ass kicked to accept the fact that I was one of Vander's kids. The ass-whooping that Vi gave me translated well to the ass-whooping I gave my 30 war hounds. In order for me to remain true to myself, I need to fool my heart into cherishing these soldiers as my own. They are all my family now, but they will never know that. Close enough to be valued above an object, but distant enough to let them go should they fall—that's all I have to give for now. My pen glides across cloth, leather, and metal. Matter density amplifications were the easy part, turning the equipment into featherweight material took improvising. If Hal taught me anything while in the academy, it was that improvisation was my specialty. The breath of daybreak approaches, and our equipment now hums with my formulas. Visually unnoticeable, but as soon as they lift their instruments of war, they'll feel the difference. Under the cover of the dark of morning, I lead my warband to the heart of Bel'zhun.
We rode in towards the steward's estate, only known as Dorrik. Our dragon hound mounts ran swiftly, thanks to the lightened load. It was planned with the efficiency that I expected from my followers. We spread out, and the drakehound agilely climbed over the gates. Whatever guards that was mauled afterwards, well...they paid their price for rebelling against Noxus authority. From that point forward, every guard we came across was either mauled by the drakehound or deftly captured by our nets and bolas. The noise and sudden screams of terror startled the rest of the ill-prepared guards to the forefront. They stumble out of their garrisons, with their armor sloppily equipped. Subduing them was the easy part, extracting information from them was the fun part. Strangely, the villagers didn't lift a finger, only retreated to give us room to act. I commanded my warband to gather the guards to the center of the village. Disarmed and stripped of equipment, the bound guards shudder in anticipation of my judgment.
"None of you behave as proper guards." I rode slowly in front of each of them. "I'm beginning to suspect that none of you are trained guards." Instantly, the aligned bound guards stiffen in reserved silence. By the look on their faces, I had guessed right. "Where are the Shurima guards?"
The replacement guards look at each other, then towards the supposed leader of the guard. At the far end, a calm, stocky man with a stiff posture and a clean-shaven face kept his eyes forward. Approaching him, I prepare for seasoned movements and any attempts for a distraction. Being surrounded by drakehounds didn't intimidate him, unlike the rest. "The next words out of your mouth better be everything I want to hear, otherwise, our hounds eat."
The surrounding hounds hiss in hunger as my soldiers struggle to contain their excitement. "Mostly, they just like to chew on soft flesh out of boredom."
The leader looks at me with cool defiance and spits. The spray of saliva lands on my armor and hound. Instantly, my hound bites down on the man's face, crushing his skull. In a swift motion, the hound sharply shakes his head. The razor-sharp teeth cut through the muscles and bone of the man and decapitates him. Roars and screams of anguish from the guards, ignited their warrior spirits. One by one, we soundly subdue them. Our drakehounds now rest their paws on the backs and chests of the guards.
Wiping the saliva from my face, I've come to my decision. "I was going to do a thorough investigation, but to hell with it." One motion of my hand, and the feeding frenzy began.
Pleas of mercy and promises of telling me everything fell on deaf ears. My warband struggles to control their drakehounds, but they didn't spend hours feeding and training them, as I have. The hounds obey my command, and my warband appeared to be just as horrified as the emerging villagers. Shurima villagers aren't like us, they aren't unfazed by the sight of savagery that we've been conditioned to. Their looks of shock and disgust reminded me of when I arrived in Stillwater. Zaun taught me survival, and through Vander, compassion. Stillwater taught me value, and through The Warden, content in my brutality. Here, Noxus is teaching me strength through my talents, my own capabilities. Watching the flesh and muscle being torn apart by some guy that could have been a champion in an arena has taught me that Noxus's united force is absolute. Here, my strength is in the collective whole of my warband. Finally, the last of the weeping guards fell, and only two are left. Two women, one without an arm and one with half of her face mauled off.
I caress the crown of my hound. "What's wrong? Full already?" Looking up, I caught the last two guards' eyes. The resentment is there, the hate stews under their torn faces, but they fear me too much to show it. "So..." I lowered off my drake hound and walked over to stand between the two guards. "...Where is your rebel leader?" The two were still silent. Grabbing them by the hair, I pulled their heads back and yelled towards the crowd of villagers. "These 'guards' were just rebels. Weren't they?"
A brave elder stepped forward with a cane. Fear stricken villagers captured his arms and refused to let go. "There are. They came as a mercenary band last week and coaxed the guard into a mutiny."
Smart, I would have done the same. "Ha! Thought so." I pulled the one from my left up by the hair and pushed her towards a random guard. She stumbled on her knee and landed on her face. "We didn't kill your leader. Go get the real one. Try to mislead us in any way, and you're food, understand?"
The woman looked up into the eyes of the drakehound and quickly looked away, nodding her head vigorously.
"Great!" waves them away. "Off you go then." As the guard is escorted away, two of my soldiers approach me.
Havesol, my ambush expert and scout, spoke first. "There is movement in the distance, within their sand, but they are patient."
I turn to him with my hand on the hilt of my sword. "Waiting for an opportunity, instead of making one, is boring." I turn to Yenir. "And you?"
He has grown tired of flinching at this point. My acknowledgement numbed his nerves to a fine hollow shell. A broken Piltie is a happy Piltie in my book. "The area is secured."
"All without telling you to, great." I patted their shoulders and passed them towards the gate. "Yenir, follow me and bring about two of your men. Havesol, lock down the village."
They followed my orders without question, in moments like these, they know I hate questions. Yenir and two of his capable men followed me just outside the gates. The sandy, dry, broken atmosphere has its charm. Nature is fighting to reclaim the dryness of it all, and I don't see the point. Kicking at the sand, I wonder how anyone can get used to this. Then again, I bet that's what everyone thinks of Zaun as soon as they take a sniff of our wonderful 'air.' My eyes scan the area. Thick trees that can only survive under the intense sun, cargo boxes neatly stacked under the shade of the trees, holding pens where all their mounts are kept, and of course, sand. Of course, the rebels are hiding behind the cargo and trees. If the rustling leaves without wind didn't give it away, their impractical decorations they call armor did.
"If you're going to hide, at least do so competently." I watch as a few of the sloppily hidden guards freeze. Portions of their heels, rears, and hilts of their weapons stuck out. I sighed in irritation, "You know what..." Having reached my limit of caring about doing this mission clean, I gave the order with a dismissive wave of my hand. My warband executed my order without hesitation. Bolts from their crossbows pierced through the cargo and almost through the thick trees. The civilians in the distance took cover behind their own walls, giving me the chance to do my job how I like to do it. Waving my hand again, the flying bolts stopped, giving the rebels just enough time to think.
"Surrender now, and I'll make your deaths quick, waste my time, and the hounds eat..." Silence took over. A few of the Shurima rebels fell to the ground, probably from the bolts. "...again." Upon hearing a few gasps from behind their hiding places, I capitalized on it. "Drakehounds don't stop eating either. They vomit their guts empty to make room for more people. Honestly, they like to eat for fun, not to fill themselves.
In that instant, their leader emerged from his hiding spot. Visibly exhausted and wearing the fresh wounds of engagement that we weren't a part of, he approached me with a proposal. "Honor me with a duel." His voice is labored and thick with his accent. "I win, you leave us in peace. You win..." He looks towards his few remaining rebels, then back to me. "...you do with us however you wish, but please, spare the villagers."
Of course I was going to spare the villagers, it was too much effort to discipline them all. "To first blood." Unsheathing my blade, I step forward and prepare for a duel.
The rebel leader approached, bolts sticking out of his shoulder and torso. Then, his knees buckled from pain and exhaustion and fell to his hands and knees. Pausing my warm-up, I watched as he slowly pushed himself from the sand, back to his feet. His hand found the bolts and pulled them out one by one. As he did so, he kept a stern face, locking eyes with me. The bolts were held firmly between his fingers in both hands. "Don't pity me."
"Wasn't going to." I turn my head, keeping my eyes on the rebel leader. "Yenir, your blade, now." As I reached my hand out, my palm caught the handle of the standard Noxus sword. If anything, Yenir is the perfect object, responsive and reliable. Then, I tossed my blade to the feet of the rebel leader.
As he looked down at the blade in disbelief, he was only able to utter the word "What..." before I closed the distance and sank my blade in his chest, crushing his sternum. The shock of the pain instantly overwhelmed his body, and he quickly crumbled to his knees.
With the blade still in his chest, I kept my eyes on his men behind him and whispered in his ear. "Be grateful you died on your feet."
I didn't watch him slide off my blade. His sternum shattered, along with his ribs along his spine. It made his trip to the sand easier. His rebel band ran towards me in a blind fury. Passionate and foolhardy. All that did was earn them a face full of explosives. The pea-sized explosive powder-packed balls flew from my hands, scattering beautifully across the advancing rebels. Within moments, my warband and I seized the chance to grasp another bloody victory. It was simple, quick, efficient, and far too easy.
The story was retold at the dining table. They leaned in with bated breath, hanging on my every word. I'm no master storyteller, but I do think that they enjoyed my methods. My ability to exploit weaknesses within enemy incompetence and strike when the vulnerability is at its peak. My retelling of my use of explosives intrigued, more than horrified, everyone at the table. All of the important people were there. The highly distinguished officers and high-ranking lieutenants sat beside me and a tall bearded man with focused eyes. They dart from me to his food and back to me. I'm sure Ambessa sees it herself. This person, who I haven't been paying much attention to, is rather interested in me. There is something irritating about his face, as if I should remember it for some reason. Those eyes are familiar, but his facial hair is ruining the connection. My grandmother, I can see her in my peripherals, she's getting a kick out of this. She can see me struggling to comprehend his person's face. His familiar eyes, his cheek structure... If I think back on what Future Owen looks like, but...no...that maniac butchered most of his face for metal. This man is all I have to go by. He must be a distant relative of some sort. Before giving up hope, I have to confront Ambessa about this and endure his obsessive glances my way. This person across from me seems to shift ever so subtly with ease. From composed to a nervous wreck, ready to retreat from me. He seems more like a Piltovian than a born and raised Noxian. Eventually, the ceremony drew to a close. Julion gave me an annoyingly polite nod, then left for the after-party. Whatever people his age do when fighting isn't a hobby, I could care less to think on it.
Ambessa took a long sip of her imported wine, then cleared her throat. "Owen, have you speculated about our notable guest of the evening?"
As the last of the officers left the room, my eyes had never left the man across from me. The maids worked swiftly to take the leftover dishes, sensing the rising tension. My glare only intensified as the man's gaze was simple to decipher. Pity, regret, grief, and longing weighed his face down.
Ambessa rose to her feet with her wine glass in hand. "If you'll excuse me, I must refill my glass."
I shook my head and chuckled to myself, as the wine glass she mostly kept to herself is sitting on the table between us, nearly empty. "Refill...my ass..."
The two of us began gradually falling into laughter. I poured myself a drink, then filled his glass. Soon, we were laughing as if we had fought a thousand wars together. The complete stranger, who I wish was a complete stranger, skillfully outdrank me. I could get him to talk now. Drink tends to loosen tight lips to release secrets that might have stayed secrets if sober. However, he beat me to it.
"It's spreading too fast, Owen." He peers at the glass, only enough wine for a single sip remains. "I can't stop the fires of war." He then looks up at me. "It's spreading everywhere."
Sitting here, across from who I suspect is my father, I feel nothing but astonishment at his opening. "Are you serious? Those are the first words out of your mouth?"
Placing his cup down, he readjusts his position. "It's related to you." He looks into my eyes with the same annoying eyes as mine. "It's all you, Owen. You know what you'll become if you stay here, in this land of violence."
Leaning back in my seat, his pathetic pleading deflated my rising anger from my chest. "I was going to do something terrible. " I drink the rest of my wine. "Like beating your face in, but..." I shrugged and pushed my glass away. "...oh well."
He nods in understanding, relaxing his shoulders. "And I understand, but please, Owen, son, why didn't you stay in Piltover?"
I frowned, the question halting my racing mind. "Because...I wasn't born in Piltover, I was born in Zaun."
His eyes widen, shattering his composed visage. "What? Onisegun didn't go to Mel? I—" he turned in his seat, anger rising to a fever pitch in an instant. It looks as if he's ready to dart away in that very moment. But upon looking back at me, he remembered himself, composing his demeanor. "You were supposed to be raised in the Medarda estate in Piltover, that was the agreement."
A sickening feeling began to rise from within my stomach, as if I were trying to vomit up a frozen knife. "I was...born on the streets...I...my mother...she..." He leans forward, reading the distress and dread from my face. I didn't have to suffer, my life didn't have to be that difficult. My lungs didn't have to endure all that pollution, and I didn't have to survive on scraps. My mouth allowed my thoughts to be voiced freely. "...I didn't have to be a monster."
He reached his hand out, half wanting to hold me, half fearing my response. "Owen, staying here is turning you into that monster. Zaun is practically no different from Noxus. But instead of feeding on other nations, Zaun feeds on itself." He moves his head in the way of my wandering eyes, trying to get my attention, but my mind is in freefall. "When I was with your mother, Onisegun, I had a vision, a vision of you. Noxus's greatest general, plunging the world into never-ending war." My heart races, that dream is another confirmation that it's my doomed future. "Piltover isn't perfect, but it's a far cry from Noxus and Zaun." He then took a chance and captured my hand in his. My eyes dart to his fatherly gaze. "You were supposed to be like Mel..." He then smiled bittersweetly. "...spoiled, protected from the harshness of constant war, and safe from its teeth."
So that was his grand plan all along. Yenir, the kids at the academy, Mel, Jayce, Viktor, and Sky—I can see it. If things had gone differently, I could have had a different family. All significantly older, but they aren't Vander, they aren't in pain, and they didn't need the help. All but Viktor are perfect. Their only woes in life were their struggles to achieve their ambitions. None of them had to carry the physical toll that's destroying Viktor's body by the day. None have breathed the pollution that burned every Zaunite's lungs, nor drunk the waters that carry who knows how many mutation chemicals. I grasp his hand, feeling the protective but futile urge to turn back time and undo his error. But even if he could, I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Father..." He flinched at the title, probably expecting more of a fight from me to acknowledge him. "A man named Vander took me in and gave me a family." I look into his eyes, they hold more courage than they had minutes before. "His kids are like my siblings now, as if we were always meant to be together. What I'm getting at is that I'm not angry with you, just relieved."
An effort to understand washed over him. "You aren't upset?"
"Being angry had never helped my situation at all. It took a lot of...lessons to understand that."
Kino slowly rose from his seat and walked over to me, keeping his eyes locked onto mine. The closer he came, the more imposing he seemed. He turns my chair, the base of the legs scraping against the floor. Finally facing each other, he grabs my face and runs his thumbs over my scars. "Owen...what happened to you, my boy?"
His thumbs run over my chin and bottom lip, thick scarring that I've grown blind to. "Fights in Zaun or in Stillwater. They could have been any one of them, I've forgotten at this point."
His brow furrowed. "Stillwater, you've been in Stillwater? For what?"
Clever Ambessa, she hasn't told him a thing. Instead, she leaves it up to me to fully explain all that I have done to my father. "You might as well have a seat, because most of it is not pretty." As Kino pulled a chair under him, I began to explain all the things I had done in Zaun and Piltover since I've been adopted by Vander. Kino's face took on many forms, from shock to dread, shame, and horror, then to understanding. As I told my story, I began to lose face, fearing that my father would reject the monster that I've become. "Even though I call Vander 'father'...I haven't replaced you at all. I—"
Kino placed his hand on mine. "He raised you well." His kind eyes show that he meant it.
I hold onto his hand intensely. "No, the streets did mostly, and I'm still growing. You wouldn't have wanted to see me before I went to Vander's."
Kino sighed, knowing best to not ask questions he isn't ready for me to answer. "I'll speak with Onisegun when I get the chance. But please, go on."
"I...met someone..." looks up at him. "She's...really...unique."
He raises a brow.
This is going to be a pain. "Her name is Powder, I hope you'll have the chance to meet her one day. She's funny and weird but one of the smartest people I know and..." I fell into a trance listing off all the things that made me fall in love with her. Even with Kino here, it made it easier for me to remember her. Then soon, I felt something fall from my eye. I wiped it absentmindedly and kept talking about how Powder and I shared our first kiss.
"That's almost how Onisegun and I met. In an underground tomb in Shurima. Don't ask for details. She's...unique as well." I'm guessing we have a thing for women with "unique" as a trait.
We talked longer into the night about my adventures in Zaun. Then, the subject of the arcane came up. That sparked Kino's interest, and not the kind I wanted.
His eyes became serious, and his voice lowered to a harsh, hushed tone. "Owen. I am certain there is not a trace of mage blood in me. How are you able to use...formulas to do magic?"
I tried to think about it, but the explanation is difficult to explain without sounding strange. "It's like a force is telling me the secrets, like whispers in a dream that I can hardly remember." And there it is, the look of bewilderment. "I know it sounds strange, but it's just how it is. It's almost nonstop when I need it the most. My brain has been doing things too, it's easier to do the equations now. I can't stop thinking about them." My chest begins to swell, and my skin dampens with sweat as I speak about the strange level of arcane understanding that is being dumped into my head without my permission.
"Whispers..." Kino mumbles to himself. "They couldn't have gotten that far..."
I followed his wandering eyes. "What do you mean?"
He then focused back on me. "There is an organization of mages known as the Black Rose. They recruit mages for their spy network and to consolidate power."
"Ambessa mentioned them but didn't get into much detail." I eyed the wine bottle, wanting to avoid any mention of magic.
Kino grabs the wine bottle and brings it in front of him. "I've been following their network. They are all over the world. Every kingdom lends their mages to them. I've been trying to dissuade the ruling classes from their organization, but Black Rose is too influential to dismantle."
I kept my eyes on the bottle. "They help mages improve, don't they?"
Kino lifts the wine bottle. "Only to become addicted to power, much like the generals of Noxus…" He placed the wine back on the table. "By the way, since you are still a child, no more drinking."
I raise a brow. "Want to start being a father now?"
He chuckled. "I may not be able to stop kingdoms from bending to Black Rose, but I can stop you from bending to the bottle."
What a great father he's turning out to be, Vander hardly ever let me have fun either. "Fine, I get it. I'll allow you to parent me."
Kino scoffed playfully. "How gracious of you. It's getting late." He stands up. "Even an officer needs to rest."
I followed him out of the dining room. As soon as we exited into the east wind hallway, the maids bowed and headed inside to begin cleaning the dining room.
We walked together down the hall towards the living quarters. "They waited patiently. I don't think I'd survive as a butler."
Kino nodded with a stern expression. "They either learned, or they were made soldiers to die on the battlefield." His delivery of everyone's fate in Noxus sounded strange to me.
Upon taking a clear look up at him, I see a man that could be a warrior if he bothered to train. "Why aren't you in the military?"
We turned the corner into the main hall of the living quarters. "Because my strength is through peaceful diplomatic diplomacy."
I nearly tripped on my feet. "You survived THIS long...without fighting? Without joining the military?! HOW!?"
Kino patted my shoulder. "Hush, Owen, people are sleeping." I frowned in annoyance, and then he answered my question with a smartass smirk. "I was put through rigorous training as well, however, my strength in diplomacy and foreign relations was outstanding enough to earn me some liberties."
My scowl in skepticism pressed Kino to release the other half of the truth.
"And..." he sighed. "Mother's mercy granted me the privilege to lead on my own quest to...'further my talents'...to speak plainly, she wants to distance herself from me."
The admission felt familiar and understandable. "You aren't the son she wanted..."
The truth struck Kino like a dagger to the back, but he accepted it as his reality. "We barely speak now. Today was the first time we've spoken in four months." We arrived at my quarters. "Rest, Owen, we'll talk tomorrow."
But I grabbed his arm. "What! Leaving on that note is just...terrible. I'm sorry..."
He then pats my hand and turns to me. "Owen, Mother...Ambessa...doesn't understand love as we do."
I squeezed his hand. "I know. She protects herself so viciously, it's horrifying, but I know she only does that because it kept her alive, and love...didn't."
Kino then pulled me into a hug, something that I didn't expect. "She loved Mel enough to send her to Piltover, where she doesn't have to see her mother become the monster she needs to be to protect her position as the head of the Medarda family." He then pulls me away and holds my shoulders firmly in his hands. "I sent you away for fear of you posing as a challenge to her rule, or worse...her heir."
The realization has dawned on me. Ambessa's reluctance to kill me when she had the chance, her steady coaxing me into relentless and grueling challenges, her steady grooming of me into a proper leader of warriors, and her rewards for when I exceed her expectations—she wants me to be the heir. "I thought Rell would be her heir..."
Kino slowly shook his head. "Ambessa is allowing you to prove your strength to the warriors of Noxus. Eventually, Rell will challenge you."
"Rell..." I try to remember who that is. "Rell...oh! You mean that girl in the armor—"
"They all wear armor, Owen..." Kino interrupted me in the most gentle way possible, but it was still rude.
I shrugged. "Fine, fine...I know who you mean. But don't worry about that girl, I've got a stupid plan that will even the odds, only if it works."
Kino understandably took a deep breath before asking. "What do you possibly have in mind?"
Convincing Ambessa to allow me to familiarize myself with the wildlife of Noxus was surprisingly easy—too easy. All she said was, "Have yourself some fun then, you'll need it," then allowed me to use a drakehound of my choosing. That's how I know that I'm in for something dangerous. What I have in mind is already dangerous on its own. My pack was nearly as heavy as I am. The need to overcompensate for how horribly wrong things will go is only due to experience. Rell's constant companion, I've seen it in my dreams. A construct of pure metal. Battle armor that looks to be made for horses is actually a horse...sort of...it's hard to say. A construct of living armor in the shape of a horse that can easily stomp me to paste. I need something to match it, and a drakehound can't compete with it. My research has led me to a desperate decision: I'm going to steal a dragon egg. If all goes right, which probably won't, I find the egg, take it without getting cooked by the mother, and return to Noxus. After warming it up and bending time a bit, it will hatch. When it sees me, instant imprint, and a powerful ally for life. But since I'm me, it might go horribly wrong, and I'll get eaten or something. Since dragons naturally like mountains, I settled for the nearby cliffs of Noxus. Getting the drakehound to climb the cliff was annoying at best, but at least it gave me something to focus on. With the combination of the rock climbing hooks and the hound's claws, climbing was about to become my next favorite hobby. However, I just had to be eaten by a dragon in one gulp, and that ruined everything.