The Crownguard Family Council Room – Night
When Garen stepped into the familiar council room, his expression faltered for a moment.
This time, his uncle and aunt weren't the only ones present.
A slender, hooded figure sat quietly in the shadows.
"She is...?"
Judging from the delicate, pale hand resting on a closed book, Garen could tell the figure was a young woman.
And... there was a faint resemblance to Luxanna.
"Because of your performance today, you've earned the right to know certain family secrets," Tiana said, pausing before continuing.
"She's Luck Crownguard, who oversees the... darker matters of the family. In terms of seniority—"
She hesitated, then finished, "She's from your generation."
"Greetings, sister," Garen said politely, offering the traditional salute.
"Diligent and firm!"
He gave a half-laugh. No wonder she looked so much like Luxanna—at first glance, he'd mistaken her for his sister.
Now that he thought about it, the women of the Crownguard did share a certain similarity in bearing and presence. It was no surprise this one resembled Lux.
He'd always suspected someone like her existed in the family.
There's always someone who carries the weight in the shadows.
One day, it would be him, but before that, it was this hidden sister before him.
Still, despite the values he held—justice, honor—he couldn't help but feel discomfort.
He instinctively disliked the kind of work she did, even though he knew it was necessary.
Everyone was working to protect Demacia in their way. That contradiction tore at him constantly.
"Luck..."
Under the black hood, it was Luxanna. Her expression was complicated.
This was the first time she'd heard Garen address her so formally.
Usually, his voice carried affection and warmth when he spoke to her.
But now, being addressed as a peer—no, a sister within the secretive structure of the family—it felt strange, even thrilling.
She replied in a low voice, "Diligent and firm... Brother Garen."
The Crownguard family motto. A code etched into every one of them.
After a brief silence, Tiana got to the point.
"Garen, tell us what you discovered today."
His expression darkened. Luxanna noticed the hesitation immediately—this was the first time she'd seen her brother struggle like this. Her curiosity deepened.
Faced with the expectant gazes of his relatives, Garen eventually spoke.
"As night fell, Jarvan left Dawncastle. We drank and talked, as usual..."
"Is he suspicious?" Tiana interrupted, reading his hesitation.
She could see the conflict in Garen. She didn't want him saying too much.
Things needed to change slowly.
Now that Luxanna had taken a step forward, they only needed Garen to avoid holding her back with his convictions.
"This..." Garen paused, clearly pained.
"Yes."
The three others exchanged tense looks. Luxanna's eyes clouded with sadness.
They had all grown up together. No one knew Jarvan better than Garen.
If even he had doubts...
Garen continued, face stern.
"During our sparring, his skills were... off. Like he hadn't trained in some time, it didn't match the Jarvan I know. And something about the way he moved—it felt like he was hiding something. He wasn't like this before."
He hesitated again. "And there's more... I sensed another power around him. When I got close, the object Uncle gave me reacted."
"The detector we use for mages," Eldred said, nodding.
"Forged from petricite. But it has a flaw—it only reacts to newer or untrained mages. Those who've mastered control over their magic can avoid triggering it."
"If Jarvan's connected to the Black Rose..." Tiana said grimly, then looked to Luxanna.
The others in the room were magic-blind.
Eldred only had basic knowledge of arcane matters.
It was Luxanna they had to rely on.
Tiana knew her niece wasn't weak—on the contrary, she suspected Lux was hiding a great deal of her true strength.
Luxanna hesitated. Her gaze, hidden beneath the hood, flicked to the simple book in front of her. Her hand still rested lightly atop it.
Then, her expression shifted. Her voice came hoarse but firm:
"Yes. Every use of magic leaves traces, even if brief. The Black Rose can suppress those fluctuations—but not instantly. The disturbance would be faint, but petricite can still detect it."
She lifted her head. "We should investigate Jarvan's recent movements. He must've been alone at some point."
Her calm, professional analysis made the others glance at her with newfound respect.
"I'll handle it," Eldred said.
His division of Mageseekers specialized in tracking such things.
"It must remain secret," Tiana warned.
"I know some soldiers from the Lightshield Bulwark," Luxanna added.
"We can speak to them quietly."
Garen's fists clenched. The quiet back-and-forth of suspicion and subtle plots grated against his instincts.
It reminded him of the recent investigation into General Laurent.
A loyal man, yet suddenly under scrutiny by nobles and even the king.
He hated this.
"What are we doing now?" Garen asked sharply.
"If we confirm Jarvan's been compromised by the Black Rose—I'll strike him down myself."
Whether or not the man was still his friend, Garen would not let an imposter walk free under the prince's face.
"You have no proof," Luxanna replied gently.
"And even if you did... we can't act yet."
She had grown colder, more rational, after everything she'd been through.
"Doing this in secret will only worsen the conflict between us and the Lightshield family. If we act openly, Demacia can't afford the consequences of such a shift."
Boom!
Garen's fist slammed into the table, his eyes blazing.
"So we're just going to do nothing?!"
"Calm down, Garen. How could we trust the future of the Crownguard to someone who can't control himself?" Tiana replied calmly.
"I just—"
Garen started to argue, but Luxanna's eyes flickered with a trace of pity.
She quickly changed the subject.
"Both Jarvan and General Laurent still need to be observed. Let's not jump to conclusions. The more pressing issue is the matter of the Winged Protector."
Tiana understood what Luxanna was trying to do.
Rubbing her temples with a sigh, she feigned a headache and looked weary.
"No one even knows if she's truly returned. We can't risk making a move in her name."
It was another major concern for the Crownguard right now.
If Kayle hadn't returned, they dared not invoke her authority.
Of all things, she despised deception and would bring down judgment without hesitation.
Tiana was conflicted. If they did nothing, Luxanna's position would remain uncertain—a volatile risk.
Some nobles could be dealt with through leverage, but the matters surrounding Jarvan and General Laurent gave her a terrible feeling.
The relationship between the Crownguard and the Lightshield family was bound to deteriorate.
She had to prepare. Luxanna was the family's next heir.
Even if Demacia were to fall one day, Tiana knew—based on how Noxus operated—Luxanna had the power to lead the family's survival.
Demacia… it was enough for their generation to die with it.
Luxanna's pale hand lingered on the closed book.
Her expression shifted beneath the hood—from doubt to shock, finally, to resolve.
No one noticed.
Finally, she took a deep breath.
"I'll go to the Temple of Justice tomorrow."
"No!" Tiana rejected it immediately.
"It's too dangerous."
"I have a legitimate reason to be there," Luxanna said firmly.
"If the Winged Protector truly intends to judge me, I must be ready to break from Demacia completely."
At that, even Garen couldn't hide his admiration.
He looked at his new sister with newfound respect.
Of all the next generation of the Crownguard, no one carried themselves like her.
She was indeed worthy of leading the family's shadowed path. Not wanting to be outdone, he stepped forward.
"Then I'll go with you!"
"No, you won't." Luxanna and Tiana spoke in unison.
"Why not?" Garen frowned.
"I can protect her."
He was confident, few in all of Demacia could match him in strength.
"You are the strongest of the generation. The family can't afford to risk both of you at once," Tiana said seriously.
Sometimes, she truly found Garen exhausting.
If Luxanna hadn't been around, they might've made do with him.
But now, with a stronger candidate standing beside him, Garen's limitations were more obvious.
He wasn't suited for this kind of work.
He spoke with fire but lacked caution.
As expected, Luxanna took advantage of the moment, her tone firm yet gentle:
"We need to monitor the Winged Protector's movements. No one is more suited than I. Garen... brother, I trust you to hold things down at home."
Tiana frowned, eyes narrowing as she studied Luxanna, trying to read her through the hood's shadow.
The two women locked gazes for a long moment, silently weighing each other's resolve.
Eventually, Tiana relented with a sigh.
"Fine. It's your decision. If you need us, you only have to say the word."
"Luck," Garen said solemnly, "I will protect you-no matter what."
He understood the danger and the weight it carried for the family.
Still, he knew that if he went, he'd only see the surface.
This time, he could only offer his word.
And yet, something inside him shifted. He realized there were more brilliant people in the Crownguard than ever.
To protect his sister, he would have to be better.
"No," Luxanna said softly.
"I'll go alone tomorrow."
She picked up the plain-looking book from the table, her fingers tightening slightly around it.
They spoke a little longer, and the meeting came to an end.
It had been a significant night for them all.
Garen felt one step closer to his purpose.
Luxanna would one day officially step into the family's inner workings.
And Tiana, though worried, found reassurance in seeing the next generation stand together.
-------------
The Noxian Frontier
After crossing paths with Jarvan, Darius and the Trifarian Legion turned north.
They had been ordered to garrison the outer reaches of the Freljord—territory Darius knew better than any general alive.
"Roar!"
Darius tugged on his reins. His war tiger reared, then halted.
He squinted into the distance, brows furrowing.
"Jayton. Go check it out."
"Yes, sir!"
One of the soldiers spurred his mount forward.
Up ahead, lying motionless in the path of the advancing army, was a girl.
It wasn't her presence that caught Darius's attention—but the dozens of arrows embedded in her body.
Judging by the distinct arrowheads scattered around the girl's body, it was clear—they were standard issue from the Demacian military.
Not long after, Jayton returned from his inspection and gave a brief report.
"General, she's still alive."
Darius raised a brow, intrigued.
"Interesting. Heal her wounds. Bring her with us."
"Yes, sir!"
A few soldiers stepped forward, treating her injuries with practiced efficiency.
Then, without delay, the legion resumed its march toward the frozen north.
-----------------
Nightfall – Within the Trifarian Legion Camp
Inside a dimly lit war tent, the girl's eyes snapped open. Her breathing was shallow, and panic flickered in her gaze.
"You're awake. Impressive resilience."
The voice was low and powerful.
She grimaced as pain surged through her body, turning her head with effort to find the source.
A towering man clad in black armor sat on a stool nearby, his posture relaxed but his presence overwhelming.
"Who… are you?"
Her voice came out hoarse, brittle from injury and exhaustion.
Even so, her instincts kept her alert.
"Darius of Noxus"
He offered a toothy grin, clearly amused.
Dozens of arrows hadn't killed her. She'd regained consciousness within a day.
The girl's healing factor and endurance weren't ordinary.
"I've… heard that name."
Her breath hitched with every word, but her eyes betrayed awe—tinged with fear.
Darius: a name whispered in Demacia to quiet unruly children.
"And you?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.
"To take that many arrows from Demacian soldiers and survive... not bad. What's your name?"
"I… Shyvana."
She gave it without hesitation.
She didn't know whether Darius or his soldiers had seen her true form.
She didn't even know how Noxus viewed those like her.
But for now, this man had spared her. He deserved her honesty.
"I see hatred in your eyes," Darius said, leaning back.
"You want to tell me your story?"
He reached beside him and held out a tin cup of water.
"Here."
"Thank you…"
Shyvana's fingers trembled as she took it. She raised it slowly to her lips, sipping carefully.
Darius remained still, observing.
Once the cool liquid touched her throat, she let out a soft sigh of relief.
The ache didn't vanish, but it eased.
She hesitated. Should she open up to him? Could she?
He had shown no cruelty. But she'd seen too many turn their backs once they knew the truth.
"I…"
Before she could speak, a soldier stepped through the tent flap, dropping to one knee.
"General."
The man gave Shyvana a sidelong glance but addressed only Darius.
Darius waved lazily.
"Speak, Wedlin."
"Yes, sir." The soldier straightened.
"Reports from the northern front. The village of Sturt in Norkmoch was razed—burned by dragonfire. A few days ago. Prince Jarvan and the Lightshield vanguard drove off the creature using enchanted arrows."
He hesitated.
Darius narrowed his eyes.
"And?"
The soldier's gaze flicked back to Shyvana, then continued.
"According to scouts… the dragon matched the description of a half-blood—human form, female, capable of transformation."
Silence fell inside the tent.
Darius glanced back at Shyvana, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"Well now… that is interesting."
"There were reports of a dragon flying toward Noxus," the soldier continued.
"The Immortal Bastion has ordered us to locate its whereabouts."
"I'm the dragon you're looking for," Shyvana said suddenly.
Her voice was still hoarse, but steadier than before.
There was relief in her expression—relief for no longer having to hide.
She had made her decision.
If they wanted to kill her, they could have done so already.
They had saved her instead. That deserved truth, not deception.
Darius dismissed the soldier with a wave, then turned back to Shyvana.
"You're honest. That's good," he said.
A pause.
Shyvana's heart tightened.
"Then join us, Shyvana."
She blinked, taken aback.
"Why?"
To Demacia, she was a monster—a cursed bloodline, a walking disaster.
Could Noxus be any different?
She had always heard the worst of them: ruthless, brutal, unfeeling.
Darius chuckled and offered her his hand.
"I see hatred in your eyes. I see you resenting the power within you. That's exactly why you belong in Noxus."
His voice was rough but resolute.
Shyvana's heart wavered.
She looked down, silent for a moment, then slowly said:
"General… would you like to hear a story?"
Darius grinned wider.
"I'd be glad to."
He leaned back, folding his arms, his interest genuine.
"A dozen years ago, a mage risked his life entering a dragon's den for gold. By some miracle, he escaped with a dragon egg."
"But before he could sell it, the egg hatched—not a hatchling dragon, but a baby girl in human form.
"When he saw her, something changed. He kept the child and raised her himself."
Shyvana's eyes softened.
"He gave her food, taught her how to speak, how to live like a human. He gave her a name… and a home."
"But the girl couldn't suppress the dragon's blood. Sometimes, she changed—part human, part beast. So the mage kept moving, village to village, to keep her safe."
A faint smile tugged at her lips, bittersweet.
"They had no roots, but they had peace. Even joy."
Then her voice darkened.
"But blood remembers blood. One day… her real mother came."
Darius's eyes narrowed slightly, listening.
"She didn't come to reunite. She came to kill them both—for daring to mix dragon blood with a human soul."
"She burned their village in a single breath."
Her voice trembled now, but she pressed on.
"The mage hid the girl underground and faced the dragon alone."
Her fists clenched.
"He was no match. He died."
Her gaze turned sharp, smoldering with rage.
"The dragon toyed with them like prey. She let the girl live—amused by her helplessness."
"But he didn't know... the one she left alive would one day be his executioner."
Her breath hitched, but she forced herself forward.
"When she crawled out of the ruins, she tried to carry the mage's body away—but it was too late."
"She ran into a squad of Demacian knights—silver armor, elite soldiers."
She fell silent.
She didn't need to finish. Both she and Darius understood the rest.
She had lost. Fled. The mage's body had been left behind.
Darius stood without a word. Then, raising his voice:
"Wedlin!"
"General!" came the reply from outside.
"Send a report to the Immortal Bastion. Tell them: a mage went missing in Norkmoch. If Demacia or the capital ask questions, say we don't seek war—but if he's alive, we'll find him. If dead, we'll recover the body."
"Yes, sir!"
The soldier sprinted off into the dark.
Shyvana, tears burning behind her eyes, struggled to sit up.
"General… Shyvana is willing to serve you. To serve Noxus. For life."
Darius smirked, stepping over and pressing her gently back to the bed.
"I don't need servants," he said.
"Use your power for the empire. Noxus needs you."
Then, without another word, he turned and walked out into the night.
Shyvana stared after him, heart pounding.
"So this… is Noxus."
She smiled faintly, her hand closing into a fist above her chest.
That night, under the cold northern stars, she made a vow.