Chapter Text

Bright golden locks of hair swayed in the putrid wind that flowed through the catacombs beneath Noxus, betraying the hidden beauty under an ugly green cloak. No eyes had caught the figure save those of the all-seeing dead that lay there. Their gaze was returned by a pair of glimmering blue eyes that betrayed fear, but also an intensity of determination.

They belonged to Luxanna Crownguard, but that name was no longer hers. She was a Noxian now, a woman without honor, without a home, without a family. This was what she knew she must become, attached to nothing, recalling nothing, lest her beautiful eyes and face betray her and thus end her. For all she knew of Noxus was death and despair. She knew its history and its champions, and she saw it all here, in the tombs of Noxians forgotten.

This frightening place reinforced her opinion of the city, for who could bury their dead in such a way? The skeletons were stacked in columns that lined the walls. There was no writing of deeds, no family crests or even names, only piles of bodies, many to a tomb. A warrior, an artist, a tradesman? Nothing was remembered here.

Here was where things were forgotten.

I must forget, she said to herself. If my identity is found out, that I am a Demacian and a Crownguard, a far worse fate will await me than these poor souls here.

A fair white hand emerged from beneath the cloak and brushed the locks of hair back into the hood. She pressed her shoulders to the cold stone wall and glanced down the black corridor.

It would do no good to linger here. She hoped to delay, but she had little reason to spend time pondering. Left alone with her thoughts, she might start up a conversation with one of the corpses.

Of course, that was her natural cheerfulness attempting to stave off her unease.

She waved her hand towards the darkness and stole from it all the light it had to give. She took it into the palm of her hand and then let it go, floating in front of her, ebbing a soft glow into the catacomb.

She stared at the ball of light humming a sweet and memorable sound. She had brought no possessions to affect her, nothing to remind her of beautiful Demacia, her home. But she had her magic with her, powerful and constant.

Lux closed her eyes. She could feel the light's warmth comfort her. Heart pounding, she breathed deeply.

"There is no dark place that light cannot penetrate," she whispered to herself.

Slowly, the light began to waver, causing the shadows to flicker. Then it was gone. The darkness enveloped her again, hiding her in shadows save for a small amount of moonlight peeking through the ceiling that revealed her slightly downcast face. Fierce blue eyes emerged.

"Be brave, Lux."

She stood up, placed her hand upon the wall and, one foot in front of the other, made her way towards the streets of Noxus.

The catacomb ended with a porthole gleaming with an orange light. She opened it slowly, revealing the torchlight of a busy Noxian evening. Raucous laughter filled the air. While she had slowly grown tolerant of the foul air of the catacombs, new smells made themselves at home in her sensitive nose. She grimaced.

Her small hands, once lady-like, had become calloused by the strict training of the Demacian military. They gripped the ladder bars, one by one, reaching towards the light of the city, but it seemed to be a foul light, a man-made light of the evening accompanying a stench and the sound of disconcerting laughter. They felt the dirt and mud against the road as she rose into what would be her new home.

She emerged into a gallery of mirth. A dusty, rubbish-lined street of cobblestone was packed with the feet of Noxian men and women, chasing the thrill of the evening extravagance.

Lux had chosen to enter Noxus on this night, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. She knew that all eyes were off the streets tonight and gazing into their viewing portals. Tonight there would be a broadcast live from the Institute of War: the game known as the League of Legends.

The League, being that it was the greatest sport in all of Valoran, would have every eye in Noxus tuned into the performance of its beloved champions, leaving her strange entrance free from much attention.

"Forever strong!" yelled a bearded man who stood right above her, holding a pint of Noxian brew. He wasn't exactly standing as much as leaning against a lamppost, his arms hanging around it as if it were a lady. He alone noticed Lux as she emerged from the porthole, brushing off the dust of bones from her cloak and who knew what else. He stared at Lux.

"Ye'r beautiful," slurred the cross-eyed vagrant. His large hat slipped over his head, a dead-looking flower attached to it.

Lux didn't respond. She glanced at him wide-eyed and then back down to her cloak, continuing to pat at it. Looking around, the crowd seemed to be moving in a general direction. With such tall buildings, she found it difficult to get her bearings, but she believed that was the way towards the Palladium, her rendezvous. She stepped forward into the crowd and moved with it.

"Just as beautiful from the back side," the man shouted, laughing loud and in various directions to nobody in particular.

"My first friend," Lux said to herself with a helpless smile.

The crowd was moving fairly inconsistently but mostly in the general direction of the Noxian stadium, the Palladium of Valor. Various individuals called out into the night towards them.

"Enjoy Noxus's finest brew and watch the League!"

"Cheer for the desolation of Demacia! Free poker chips with your entry!"

"View portals among the comfort of our lovely ladies!"

Many a Noxian stopped and diverted to these offers, but the majority of them were bound for the glory of the gigantic venue at the Palladium. Lux's mind was elsewhere. She was meeting someone, a man who was already living here in Noxus. He would provide her with further instruction.

She looked up at the starless night sky, framed by the tall wooden buildings that pressed in on the street.

Lux's shoulder was shoved as an eager Noxian pressed forward through the crowd. She was being bounced around like a leaf in the wind, no one paying her any mind. Groups of people were traveling together. She passed a troop of soldiers who had stopped to admire one of the many brothels that lined this street.

People were laughing and cheering, everyone seeming to be excited and enjoying themselves, save Lux. Only sixteen, she was the youngest member of the Demacian Security Brigade and certainly the youngest of their spies. She was accepted into the military at only thirteen as a mage. While her skills alone were impressive enough, it had still required some coaxing to get the old, respectable leaders of the military to agree to send a young, fragile-looking girl into the very heart of the enemy, but she had convinced them.

While she was surrounded by older, stronger Noxian soldiers and brutes, Lux knew that with a wave of her hand she could overpower any of them. But what terrified her was the sheer number of people in the city itself. There were hundreds of them, all enemies of Demacia, all hating Demacia, all willing to have a go at her if there was even a hint of her support for her nation.

They passed a large view portal that was laid out across the street. Staircases and tables on either side of the intersection were covered with viewers, some even seen sitting on the rooftops and windows. Lux looked up and saw the banner of the League of Legends, written in golden letters, being streamed in from the Institute of War.

The viewers pounded on the tables with the cry of "Noxus!" followed by two loud thumps, repeatedly.

As she glanced at the magical portal, it flickered and she caught a glimpse of a handsome Demacian who was immediately booed by the onlookers. He bore the banner colors of gold and blue across thick armor of bronze. His short hair was an auburn brown that swayed in the wind. His eyes were calm and determined, looking over the battlefield, quietly preparing his mind for battle.

"Go back to Demacia, pretty boy!" shouted a teenage Noxian at the screen. Everyone in the crowd nearby laughed and cheered.

A pair of speakers called out to the crowd. "First pick! Garen Crownguard, the Might of Demacia! Betting channels are now open!"

Lux's breath paused. That warrior was her brother.

"Cut him down!" cried another onlooker.

She halted her steps, staring at the eyes of her only sibling.

"Keep moving, Goldie!" growled an elderly woman who shoved into her.

Lux came to her senses and continued, readjusting the hood of her cloak. The chants of "Noxus!" continued.

She had never met her elder brother. He had fought for the Dauntless Vanguard since she was a child and had been in the academy before that. But she nevertheless loved him from a distance. He had written her letters, bought her gifts for her birthday...

There was a worry in the back of her mind. There is a saying in the military that you can control every facet of your mind and body, to create a perfect tool for service. But the one unpredictability, something that you cannot control, is the effect caused by the involvement of family and friends. She quickly put this worry aside. There was no going back now.

Turning a corner, the Palladium was revealed, draped in colorful banners with the faces of summoners, men and women in hooded, purple robes. The building itself was so old, with columns extending several stories tall framing arches one after the other, through which Lux could see attendants shuffling around.

A bearded gentleman was holding the crowd at bay, allowing them to pass through a metal gate as they showed their tickets. Lux did so along with the others.

"Enjoy the game, lass," said the man. He looked at her specifically. She didn't know the man, but he looked at her as though he knew her. He returned her stare with a quick wink as she passed. A bit unsettled, she pushed her way through the shuffling masses into the structure.

The building loomed over her as she was practically pushed through its entrance, torches hanging above her. The stone corridors blocked the foul air from outside, replacing it with a wet musk. She passed large statues of figures she did not recognize. They looked like gladiators and mythical beasts.

As the crowds diverged, Lux found herself at freedom to stop. She could see now, through one of the wide arches, the inside of the Palladium. Pennants of red and black flew across the hundreds of towers and posts lining the inside of the stadium. The coliseum was circular with rows of stone seats all around.

A robed man approached her.

"Do you require assistance finding your seat?"

He was attired with the same color of robe as the summoners on the banners.

"Um..." Lux was wary who to talk to directly.

"Please, your ticket," the man did not seem to acknowledge her. He was older with a white beard. Lux complied by showing him the ticket.

"Are you... a summoner?" she asked reluctantly.

He glanced up at her while looking at the ticket. "This is the traditional dress of all members of the Institute of War. Summoners strictly do not leave the Institute for many reasons."

"Oh, I see."

Apparently the Institute of War controlled the broadcasts instead of Noxus, even inside the city itself. The Institute seemed to control everything these days, even in Demacia. Ever since the Rune Wars...

"You've got a great seat," he said. "Four corridors to your right, and you're on the 3rd level."

It didn't really sound like a great seat. She thanked the man and followed his directions. Ignoring the food and drink vendors she passed, she entered the fourth corridor and drew towards the center of the stadium, where she finally got a good view of the field... what they called The Fields of Justice.

A large jungle was laid out where normally there must have been a dirt floor. The vision was a magical projection, similar to the luminous screens she saw out on the streets. Clearly, on each side of this faux jungle, were two stone platforms. Everything appeared in miniature.

Of course, this was simply a map to entertain the viewers. The real game was taking place at the Institute of War, a small city-state roughly half the distance from Noxus to Demacia.

"Demacia Vs. Noxus, the battle of the year!" shouted a robed coliseum worker to her as she ascended the stone steps. "Programs! Noxian autographs!"

"No, thank you," said Lux, making her way towards a conspicuous seat that was covered in a black blanket.

The man abruptly grabbed her arm.

"Support Noxus," he insisted, as she struggled. "Where is your love of your country?"

Lux looked around. Everyone present was fashioned with the colors of Noxus, on their clothes, on banners and flags, even coloring their hair or skin. Without realizing it, she was sticking out like a sore thumb in her green cloak.

"I'll take a flag," she said, untying her purse. The man examined her, his brow furrowed. "And a program." She produced the coins. She had plenty to spare. Demacia had seen to that.

The man smiled a forced smile before turning away. "Noxus has your thanks, miss. Programs! Support Noxus!"

The man moved on and Lux turned quickly away. Had she already forgotten that she was in danger? She approached the empty blanket and sat, putting her hands to her head. It made her sick to pay the man, knowing it went straight to the Noxian military, to fuel their evil war machine. Had she bought a blade that would harm an innocent Demacian, Ionian, or any other free citizen?

She looked at the program in her hand. On its cover was a gruesome face, surely the face of Sion, one of Noxus's soldiers that for Noxians was the face of the League of Legends.

Noxus's heroes were killers, assassins and soldiers who justified their actions in the name of the Noxian High Command. Men and women without honor, without morals. It was disgusting.

She thought of her brother Garen, a proud Demacian who fought for justice, for what was good and right. He was a true champion. Why did he have to share a stage with these villains?

Every turn of the page made her more distraught. She was blindly feeding her hatred of Noxus, even as she meant to become one of them.

"Could you try to look a little less like an enemy of the state?"

Lux nearly had a heart attack. A figure of black and red stood beside her. In contrast to her, he was covered head-to-toe in Noxian regalia. He even sported a fake Sion mask, which gave him a slightly muffled voice. She relaxed when she finally recognized who it was.

"Reginald!" Lux gasped. "I didn't realize it was you at first."

"I know you're new at this, but I didn't think you were stupid," he said, removing the mask. He had black hair and wide eyes, like he was in a constant state of surprise. His head shook disapprovingly. They had trained together in Demacia, though he was quite a few years her elder.

He sat down next to her. "At least try and look like you don't absolutely hate everything and everyone here."

Lux gave her flag a half-hearted wave. "Yaaaay, Noxus."

"That's the spirit!" he said, ignoring her sarcasm and shaking the flag for her. It waved in her face.

She sighed. "You've had the advantage of being here for a year, Reg. I just got here."

"And you won't be here for long with that attitude. Look, I think we're going to have to stay the whole match. It's already about to start, and I say it's less conspicuous to leave after it's all done."

Lux's head was turned, arms crossed. "Makes sense."

"I'm serious, though. About the whole cheering for Noxus thing."

Lux turned to him brandishing a mean scowl. "I'll be sure to cheer when my brother is run through with a spear."

Reginald's jovial facade briefly faded. "Your brother..."

Before he had a chance to reason with her, a booming voice filled the torchlit arena, making further conversation impossible.

"Welcome, viewers, to another exciting broadcast of the League of Legends!"

The crowd erupted in cheers as a glowing image appeared high above the jungle, floating in the air. It was a man at a desk, apparently a broadcaster.

"I'm your host, Damien Flowers, coming to you live from the Institute of War, where our brave champions have been prepping to fight. Let's take a look at the picks for each team..."

More and more Noxians began to shuffle in around Lux and Reginald. Lux did her best to compose herself for Reg's sake. Everyone else looked excited and here she was clearly not wanting to be there. They couldn't speak openly with each other anymore, so it looked like she was stuck there until it was all over. She prayed that nothing would happen to Garen.

Reg immediately broke into excited, confusing explanations on the strengths of each featured champion and the strategies that may be employed by them. He would hoot and clap at something the broadcaster had said. He turned to Lux occasionally, who made no effort to humor him. He would jab her in the side with his elbow. This did nothing to improve her mood.

The announcer continued...

"Joining me today as our special guest commentator is none other than a legendary champion from the League himself. Welcome to the show, Veigar."

The broadcast zoomed out to reveal another individaul sitting at the casting table, a tiny man dressed in robes covered in an over-abundance of spikes. An over-sized wizard's cap and cloak hid most of his face in black shadows. The little person slammed his metal (and spiked) gauntlets onto the table. His yellow eyes glowed from beneath his hood. His voice was high-pitched and screeching, like that of a yelling child who had smoked cigarettes for ten years.

"I command all of you watching to kneel! Kneel before the all-powerful might of your new master!"

"What a character," Flowers laughed. "Tell me, Veigar. What are your expectations for the match today?"

"Silence, henchman," Veigar spat. He raised his gauntlets above his head. "This broadcast is now under the absolute control of Veigar, the Master of Evil!"

The announcer responded by chortling. The crowd around Lux did the same.

Veigar glanced around, looking annoyed. "It's true! All of you here are in terrible danger, and you must hear my exceptional demands for your safety."

"Well, Veigar, we'll have to talk about your adorable terrorism later. Let's take a look at a short clip from one of Demacia's champions today."

Veigar shouted "Wait!" before the screen cut away. The face of Garen appeared, hovering above the stadium. The audience jeered loudly and vehemently. Lux's hands left her cheeks and clasped together.

An unseen interviewer called out to him as he walked through some corridor. "Garen, Garen, what are your expectations for the match today?"

The armored man turned briefly to the screen, his Demacian-blue scarf swinging around. "The will of Demacia is strong, and I trust that justice will be done on the field today."

He looked strong and confident. It made Lux feel a little better. He was the very definition of Demacian strength.

"How do you expect to overcome Noxus's strategy?"

"As you know," replied Garen. "We adhere only to the will of our summoners, who lead us in battle. I trust that their strategy against Noxus will be sound. My goal today is only to provide them with excellence and fortitude in accomplishing the instructions I am given."

An armored, angelic figure came into view behind Garen, armored in gold and red with a regal, slitted helmet and a pair of massive, bright white wings. Hidden underneath the armor, Lux knew, was a fierce woman who chose to fight alongside Demacia.

"Kayle! Kayle! Where will you be positioned?"

"The unseen face turned in the direction of the interviewer, saying nothing. She put a firm hand on Garen's shoulder, who returned a reassuring glance. Garen responded on her behalf.

"We'll share no secrets today. With good fortune, you'll see us both on the Fields of Justice."

Flowers returned to the screen. "That was an interview earlier today. Of course, we will be seeing them both tonight now that picks have been revealed... Speaking of Kayle, this broadcast is brought to you by Sinful Succulence, a new bakery in the Noxus Ivory Ward opened by none other than Kayle's sister Morgana. Our favorite fallen angel welcomes you to try her delicious cookies. Our betting tables are showing heavy favor towards a Noxus victory today. Veigar? How do you feel about Demacia's chances?"

The wizards cap quivered and Veigar's hands began to shake. The tiny wizard screamed. "Why did Noxus not select me to destroy these Demacian worms? My powers are undeniable! My will is unstoppable!"

"It's true that the champions we will be seeing on Summoner's Rift today (as well as their summoners) will only be those who hail as representatives of their own city. It'll be a true battle between Demacia and Noxus tonight."

"I look forward to watching them die!"

The crowd gave a hearty cheer of agreement. Lux glanced at Reg, who was focused on the screen.

"Here's another clip, this one of some of Demacia's opponents."

The crowd cheered as Noxian champions appeared on the screen. In contrast to Garen and Kayle, they looked far less stoic and more ruthless. Lux recognized the hulking mass of Sion, wielding a massive axe. She had read in the program that he had been a great Noxian warrior who was executed by Demacia, yet he was somehow brought back to life through the use of forbidden magic..

"Sion!" the loudspeakers yelled with the voice of another interviewer. "Are you ready to face Demacia today?"

The image zoomed in on Sion's face. His skin was lifeless in color, and yet it moved. His eyes were like gateways into something other than a soul. His mouth cracked, bone against bone, into a smile, revealing rotten teeth. His voice cackled in a thick accent that Lux didn't quite recognize.

"I will face Demacia, summonah," he growled. "Da question ees, will dey have any faces after I am done chopping at dem!"

At this, the Noxians roared with approval, shouting Sion's name. The brute was apparently quite the crowd-pleaser.

"Blood will be speeled! Repay da blood with blood!"

The crowd started to make unsettling amounts of noise, many were screaming obscenities and threats. They had been riled up into a mob now. Lux was amazed at the pure amount of animosity there was against Demacia. She couldn't believe that all of this emotion was motivated simply by the magical images that displayed in front of them. These champions were all at the Institute of War, broadcasting mere images, and yet they could initiate such chaos. The Institute, she surmised, had more power than she'd realized.

The idea of the League of Legends, first and foremost, was to prevent war. These matches were fought in place of real battle. Both Noxus and Demacia had agreed to settle their differences through sport rather than with the lives of their people. It was, she had always thought, such a peaceful alternative to bloodshed. But she had never been so frightened in her life as in the presence of this bloodthirsty crowd.

Was this a better alternative? The bloodshed was gone, but the bloodlust remained. And now, the war was no longer far away. It was here, in the homes of the people. Now everyone was a part of the war.

The clip with Sion ended, and Damien and Veigar appeared on the screen again.

"That was our look at some of the champions we'll see on the field today. And now, the match is about to begin. The summoning has begun!"

The battlefield below them was stretched out across the stadium ground. Five beams of light on each side of the map indicated the presence of the two teams of champions. Above the field, four small camera screens displayed a closer look at them. Five Demacians and five Noxians, who all began to sprint from the platform where they had been summoned, each of them holding various weapons.

"They're leaving the platform and making their way into the jungle."

The crowd cheered and resumed it's chant of "Noxus!"

Lux gazed across the arena floor. A dense jungle separated the two platforms, with a river flowing through its center. The river ran perpendicular to the battlefield, like a line drawn in the sand where the two armies would inevitably clash.

Leading the charge was Kayle. Blazing with golden armor, she was beautiful in both form and manner, a kind of glory. Lux had never seen Kayle's face, but physical beauty was irrelevant as the angel's strength and valor was more than enough for her to admire.

The announcer continued.

"We can see our team carries rushing towards each other. They will be vying for control of the map today. Read the cue cards, Veigar."

"I can read, fool!" The little mage leaned forward, his seemingly glowing eyes squinting. " 'The... Judicator, Kayle... Her sword blazing to inflict judgment?' Who wrote this crap? She's a flappy angel girl with a moral superiority complex. She doesn't even know any magic! I, on the other hand, am the most powerful mage the world has ever known."

"Veigar, read the cue cards!" Damien demanded through a teethed smile.

"Your cue cards cannot contain me, summoner! My power exceeds beyond the power of cue cards!"

Damien slapped his head with his free hand.

"Like I was saying, she is powerless in the use of real magic."

"Not true, Veigar," Flowers resumed. "She can save lives out there. She has the power to protect her team from harm."

"Ah, yes. The curious power of divine intervention. No spellbooks, no scrolls, no wands. Clearly it is some kind of parlor trick."

Flowers laughed in the way announcers do and slammed Veigar on the back, inadvertently knocking him nearly off his seat and causing his wizards cap to fall over his face.

"Some would say more than a trick, our little 'Master of Evil'." He continued to chuckle and shake his head at the pitiful wizard, playing for the audience, who seemed to be enjoying the commentary.

"I am evil!" insisted Veigar, who stood on his seat and seemed to be addressing the audience itself. "Stop laughing!"

Of course, at this, the Palladium audience started hooting with laughter and applauding.

Flowers wiped away a tear. "Oh, Veigar. Well, back to the battle. The center of the map is the most crucial, so we'll be seeing a lot of Kayle. Meeting her at the center of the arena, gaze upon the lovely Katarina, a true flower of Noxus, the Sinister Blade!"

"Katarina," Lux muttered under her breath. She was one of Demacia's most notorious enemies. An assassin with unmatched agility and brutality. She was a stark contrast to Kayle, beautiful in appearance in most respects but repulsive to Lux in all other ways. Her contours were mesmerizing, her skin lacking imperfections, her hair glowed crimson like blood in the wind, but underneath that beauty was a powerful, selfish creature that openly mocked the values of Demacia.

Katarina dashed up the jungle path, passing a massive stone tower that guarded the river's edge. Here, she stopped. Holding two curved blades against her gloved wrists, she leaned against the tower, hip to one side. She wore skin-tight black leather pants and a half-length jacket with an exposed midriff and cleavage, seemingly challenging onlookers to distract themselves with her beauty. But the most menacing attire was her face: a pair of cold, green eyes, one of them cut across with a noticeable scar, and a smile that betrayed the love of steel and death.

Kayle arrived opposite her, in contrast soaring with the flaps of her massive white wings, wielding a longsword of gold, which she held upright in front of her, head lowered.

Lux's gaze wandered about the map, finally discovering a light that represented her brother. She fixated on it. While the play-by-play was not showing him now, she could tell by this marking where he was in the field. She could imagine him, deep in the jungle, mere footsteps from enemy lines.

Reginald put his hand on Lux's leg. She exchanged a look with him, looking for reassurance. Somewhat surprisingly, she found it in his eyes. They had been close friends in the academy, despite her being so young compared to him. He was a kind of older brother that she never had in her family's mansion.

The noisy crowd around them was coming to their feet. Lux knew what that meant. They were eager for "first blood", the match's first death. The two of them reluctantly stood up. She reached for Reginald's hand. He leaned over and spoke over the roar of the crowd.

"It won't be him."

They stood together and gazed at the Field of Justice. Why wouldn't she accept those words? She felt now how she had felt in the catacombs, struggling to conquer a deep fear inside of her that she never knew she had. This city was revealing it to her.

The crowd shook their fists with a terrible ferocity, lit by hundreds of fiery torches. Some were screaming for blood, others devouring food between cheers. They were a fearsome organism, thirsting for the blood of its enemies. They were the cog in the machine to her, previously unseen in her history books: the fuel of war. She really feared them. She could control magic like a potter molds clay, but she couldn't control a single one of these countless souls.

"Here come the armies!"

On the platforms at the jungle's edge were large crystals, the same crystals Lux recognized from her history lessons about the Rune Wars. The crystals hummed and began to spin. Suddenly, light began to materialize from them, forming into shapes. The shapes became armies of armed soldiers, who immediately raced for the battlefield, slamming shields and brandishing weapons.

Flowers' voice could still be heard over the battle. "The first blows have been struck!"

Steel met as the soldiers braved the muddy soil along the river's shallows. The armies seemed to meet like waves crashing against each other as they travelled along the jungle path. The battle scene was curtained by the two massive towers on each side of the river. Behind the Demacian army of soldiers, Kayle barked commands, flying among them.

Her and her opponent seemed to duel each other, a kind of dance. Katarina ducked and dodged between her minions, cutting her enemies down with ease, as Kayle hovered over them, occasionally making decisive strikes.

The soldiers would fall when wounded and vanish. They were not real soldiers, Lux realized, but products of magic. Summoning magic was stunning to witness, one of the key attractions for mages such as herself. Somewhere at the Institute of War, these summoners were performing an unseen ballet of swirling magic that concocted this massive and grand illusion.

She turned her gaze to another set of towers farther downriver, where she saw her brother not yet rallying his troops. He was assisting another of his comrades in the thick of the jungle itself, but now he emerged, rejoining his army.

"Demacian scum!" yelled a dark voice. Lux thought it had come from the crowd, but it had come from one of the screens.

It belonged to the bounding hulk of Sion, who now charged forward beyond the safety of his soldiers, ignoring all other opponents, wielding his terrifying axe.

Flowers' voice could be heard over the action. "Looks like Sion's axe 'Chopper' is ready for blood, folks."

"Sion! Sion!" the crowd cheered.

"Press forward!" Garen commanded, ignoring Sion's jeers. He took a defensive stance as the massive soldier bore down upon him, swinging his axe over his head.

"Sion is ignoring the battle and going straight for Garen!"

His broadsword his only shield, Garen swung it deftly from his left to his right, successfully blocking these first attempts, but something seemed to stop him as Sion's eyes glowed red. A bolt of lightning shot from lifeless eyes into that of Garen's causing the Demacian soldier to falter. Sion took advantage of a free hit, slicing at Garen's shoulder plate. The soldier yelled in pain.

"What happened?" Lux asked Reginald, still gripping his hand.

"His gaze," he replied. "When Sion was resurrected, the necromancers granted him some kind of undead magic. It seems like it's paralyzing him."

Lux's jaw clenched. It was only the beginning of the fight, and already Noxus was targeting her brother. They knew, as she did, that he was a bulwark. If they could bring him down early, they would have a massive advantage.

As Sion continued to press his enemy, Garen backed down nearer the protection of his tower. He glanced up at it, the boar-headed structure seemed to hum with energy.

The Demacian soldiers clambered over Sion, striking him from behind and jumping on him.

"Sion is fighting Garen even under the guard tower!" yelled the announcer. "Look at him take those shots! The man is insane!"

Sion laughed maniacally, chopping away at Garen, glancing his armor occasionally, knocking Garen farther back. They were so far back from the river now that the dirt was hard, and the glowing eyes of the tower lit up. With a loud "bang" a glowing ball of light shot out of it and struck Sion hard in the chest. The intensity of it was such that it knocked him backwards and likewise the soldiers around him.

But the undead soldier seemed unfazed. He retreated out of the tower's range, still laughing, and pulled out what looked like two glass flasks. He began guzzling them down.

Lux turned again to the view portal of the announcers.

"Veigar, with those magic potions, Sion is regaining his strength," Flowers explained. "He'll be good as new in seconds, even after all that damage he's taken. The same can't be said for Garen, who's taken quite a beating."

"Behold, fool! Your end is near!" Veigar yelled directly at Flowers, producing a strange, glowing box and slamming it onto the announcer's table. "I warned you to take me seriously, and now no one at the Institute is safe... Behold, my doomsday device!"

The crowd began to boo and holler obscenities at the screen. They clearly had no more interest in what was going on in the announcer's box.

Flowers looked visibly displeased. "Really, Veigar? Another bomb scare? Why do we even bring him on?" he seemed to be calling to someone off-screen.

Veigar only started laughing uncontrollably as the box started to hiss and smoke.

"Ahahahahaha!"

Suddenly, the screen went black. The crowd began to make uneven sounds of confusion and frustration. They had no commentary for the action, but the battle continued nevertheless.

"Look!" Reginald pointed at the map. "Sion is retreating over there."

Sion disappeared into a dense brush. He wielded a small item and unceremoniously flung it into the ground. From the head of a golden rod emerged a large glowing eye, glancing around and emitting an eerie green light. The eye blinked as though awakening from a deep sleep.

"That's a sight ward!" Reginald commented. "It's a magical eye that is invisible to everyone but its owner."

"So there's no way for him to know it's there?" Lux asked, concerned.

Reginald paused briefly. "No, no, he can't."

Sion showed his yellow, rotten teeth before he returned to the safety of his troops by the river, his feet splashing in the mud and water.

The announcer's screen came alive again. The studio looked veiled in smoke. Damien's hair looked unkempt and Veigar was now gone.

"We apologize, viewers, for the slight interruption. Everything is fine now. Let's just get back to the battle. It looks like Demacia is making the next move. It's a 3-on-3 engagement at the third lane!"

But Lux wasn't watching. She could see on the map below that Garen was headed straight for the same river brush, leaving the few soldiers left behind him.

"No, brother," she whispered. "They can see you there."

But then she remembered. It wasn't him making the calls. He was following the orders of his summoner, whether he knew better or not.

"Wait, something is happening, folks, up at the top lane!" Flowers shouted.

A large cannon mounted on wheels trudged its way towards the tower, surrounded by Noxian soldiers. Sion, apparently ignoring Garen, proceeded to join them. Garen watched them from a distance and crouched, seemingly hidden at the edge of the brush.

"Garen is battered, but he's not out folks. If he can flank Sion under the protection of his tower, he'll have a tactical advantage. This could be Demacia's chance... but wait!"

The brush around Garen suddenly glowed a bright green light, and the eye of the ward floated high into the air, its gaze locked onto Garen. If Garen could see this light he did not react to it. The announcer's voice slowly grew in excitement.

"Noxus has a ward there. We must have missed it. If Garen doesn't retreat now he could be- No! Sion's after him!"

The crowd began to cheer in a mad fury. Sion's eyes locked with Garen's and the Demacian's face betrayed fear. A second bolt of red lightning shot out from the eyes of Sion as his armored mass barreled towards the brush, leaving his troops at the tower. The lightning burned at Garen's face, causing him to collapse uncontrollably to the ground.

"He's stunned him again," said Reginald. He glanced worriedly at Lux.

"I have you now, Crownguard!" the thick voice screamed as a decisive axe blow cut into Garen's shoulder. Lux's hands flew to her mouth to prevent a sound of horror from emerging. The axe was now glowing a hot red, boiling with a hellish mist.

"Chop! Chop! Chop!" all of Noxus seemed to yell with every swing of Sion's axe.

"Garen can't move," Flowers announced. "He's taking so much damage. I don't think he'll be able to stand this for long."

Get out of there, Lux pleaded in her mind. Get out!

Blow after blow, Garen struggled to get to his feet and retreat. His competitor would not relent. The Demacian soldiers were now of no help, defending the tower, oblivious to Garen's plight.

Finally, the axe missed its mark, striking a tree, and gave Garen a chance. He struck Sion with his sword in an heroic leap, causing his enemy to flinch. His face matted with blood, Garen retreated successfully, leaping out of the brush and diving straight into the shallow river, leaving a red trail in the water behind him. His armor sloshed slowly through the water. Ahead, a small path back to the jungle lay far before him. If he could just reach it, maybe he could get back to the summoner's platform alive.

"Will Garen escape? I don't think the Noxian summoners will allow it. Look!"

Chains began magically shooting out of the ground and wrapping around Garen's legs. Every step he took now looked like an intense effort. He struggled to shake them off of himself.

"Sion's summoner has cast a spell of exhaustion. Look at how it affects him!"

Garen began to spit blood. He thrust his sword into the ground and leaned upon it in an effort to push forward. The chains were gone, but it appeared as though they had melted into his muscles, making every movement a struggle. Sion now too emerged from the brush, dashing through the water until he was mere steps from Garen, axe over his head.

"This is it, folks. Garen's not walking away from this one, not unless his summoner does something right now."

Do something! Lux wanted so badly to shout, but she couldn't give herself away around all these Noxians.

But nothing seemed to happen. Garen simply kneeled helplessly, his back now pressed against the embankmentl, his lungs heaving, raising his head to see the oncoming death. Even now, he maintained the appearance of a soldier.

Lux couldn't look away. She wanted to...

Suddenly, Flowers began to yell like mad.

"Kayle has left her lane! She's downriver!"

Sion's blade struck home, with all of his might, but it bounced. A fierce "clang" shot out, sparks flying. A gold spherical barrier was surrounding Garen, appearing seemingly from nowhere. No harm had been done to him.

"Divine intervention! Garen is impervious! He still has a chance, folks!"

Kayle swooped in on white wings over the water, golden blade glowing with fire, swinging violently at Sion, who was forced to back away. The villain barked angrily at her, fending off her blows with his axe.

Garen slowly stood up, looking near collapse, and started to make his way to the safety of the jungle.

"No!" shouted Sion, noticing Garen's escape. Lightning shot from his eyes, stunning Kayle. His skin suddenly seemed to crawl with a ghoulish glow. He ran head down, pushing right through the angel. Water flew everywhere as he took massive steps back towards Garen, who looked over his shoulder.

"He's one slice away from sure death. There's no intervention to save him now."

Sion's gleaming axe swung at the air, hitting nothing.

"Garen's gone!" Flowers screamed. "I don't believe it! His summoner has saved him! He's been flashed out of the river and into the jungle!"

Where was he? Lux searched the screens, looking for him, before seeing that one of them had changed. Glorious blue and gold displayed against a green canopy as Garen emerged from the brush, bloody but alive.

Garen was alone, surrounded by trees, away from the river and safe from Sion. Lux felt as though she could finally breathe again.

Garen limped slowly, sheathing his sword, and then-

"It's Katarina!"

His back arched. A cry escaped his lips, and a curved blade cut through his chest.

Lux screamed.

The Palladium erupted in deafening cheers. All on their feet. Lux's panicked cries went unheard.

A flow of bright red hair surrounded Garen's face as Katarina rested her soft cheek on his neck. Her hand wrenched the blade through his back a little more, causing his body to shake. Her green eyes watched Garen's as her other arm reached onto his shoulder, pushing him down to the ground and off her blade. He lay, unmoving, on the blood-caked dirt.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Lux was being pushed through a sea of bodies, down a flight of stairs, through a dark corridor and into the night. Her face was pressed into Reginald's chest, his hand on the back of her head firmly. Her arms clutched at his shirt as they made their way through the streets of Noxus, away from the battle, away from death.