The Redemption of Jericho Swain

by Ghosted Note

Chapter 6: Band(s) on the Run

The Redemption of Jericho Swain
Chapter 6: Band(s) on the Run

“Run to the zeppelin! I’ll meet you there. Escort them there Ezreal, and I will rejoin you laterl.” Kassadin unleashed a blast of violet magic from his fist, flinging a few of their purple-clad attackers aside to make a path. With a flick of his wrist and an unsettling hum, a blade erupted from Kassadin’s right bracer, and the surface thereof seemed to all present more like a rip in reality than steel, with the same dark purple hue that accompanied all of his magic coloring it as sizzled, filling the air with the scent of ozone. Their assailants seemed unfazed by the display, lighting up the area as they prepared their own magics. The unfortunate guard assigned to the group cursed under his breath, and after a moment of hesitation, drew his sword, an act that elicited a chorus of chuckles from many of the mages around him before he was promptly hoisted into the air and flung into the nearest wall, crumpling into unconsciousness. Kassadin rolled his eyes, and surveyed the roughly thirty mages surrounding him.

The leader, only visible by having slightly more ornate robes than his counterparts, pointed to a few of his men before stepping toward Kassadin. “Do not let the others escape. As for you, Voidwalker, we will give you one chance to surrender. The master does not require your presence or your safety, but concessions can be made for any who have gazed upon the Void.” A few of the mages broke away from the group to pursue the others, only to be blasted into a wall by Kassadin.

“Pitiful creatures. What you know of the Void is like a drop of water to the oceans I have traversed. Your ‘master’ must not be very attached to you, to send such disposable forces in such small quantity to attempt to hinder me.” Kassadin laughed disdainfully. “If it is knowledge of the Void you desire, I shall gladly be your teacher. Stand and fight, if you can.”

- - - -

Swain felt...odd. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt, but it wasn’t something he was used to. Looking down at the walking stick lying on the ground in front of him, he was forced to recall limping into a Noxian infirmary, refusing the magical treatments that would put him in debt for years, to have his shattered leg put in a splint. He hadn’t even flinched when the doctor had set his leg. Swain had been hearing the voices of the Void whispering to him since he was a small child, but he had never succumbed to the madness that seemed to flow from the interdimensional nexus. By the time he had reached the infirmary, he had already become hardened and jaded by the visions that his magic had occasionally shown him. If anything, the promises of doom had only destroyed his ability to give into despair. After a while, visions became communication, and years after, during his meteoric rise through the Noxian military, he had sealed the pact that assured his domination over Noxus, and gained, almost killing the crown prince of their eternal rival, Demacia, in the process. He had also gained the feathered companion that now sat on his shoulder now.

One thing that he had never regained, perhaps as a reminder of his origins and of his ability to overcome any weakness, was the use of his right leg. He could have had it magically repaired, being the Grand General of Noxus, but whatever sentimentality he possessed had stayed his hand. Now, he was healed. He felt young and invigorated. The armor, which seemed during his studies to be far too heavy to be practical in combat, felt light on him, having transformed to suit its new host more easily. It felt good. Swain smiled, an unnatural expression on his jaded face, and swept his blue locks back into his standard short ponytail before placing the Nightmare’s Helm, as he had learned to call it, back on his head. Nightmare stirred within his mind. ‘It’s nice to be back on your feet, isn’t it? You sure are an interesting fellow, Swain. I mean, most orphans in Noxus just grow up to be cutthroats and whatnot. Anyway, as nice as it is reminiscing about your childhood with you, I think it’s time we got moving. The plan is still the same, right? Go to Riven, convince her to help you somehow, maybe disguise one of your planned reforms as a bargaining chip or something. We can’t stay too much longer in Noxus, though.’

Swain nodded. ‘Agreed. The aliens from Equestria will be traveling to Noxus soon to pick up Rainbow Dash. It’d be the perfect opportunity to leave Noxus, with a little bit of extra firepower from the accompanying champions for extra protection. From there, we will gather information on Malzahar until we can better formulate a course of action to strike against him. We will also have to find a way to discredit those who are trying to bring me to trial. It would also be a convenient excuse to gather a bit more power to myself. After all, if you can’t trust the council of generals, perhaps it would be better to place your trust in the one person who has always pushed Noxus forward?’

‘You really are an ambitious thing, aren’t you. Humans are so delightfully determined when it comes to things they want. Let’s get moving.’ Nightmare chuckled, and Swain shouldered his pack, his bird casually shooting a stream of burning magical energy at a nearby would-be thief, who fell to the ground, writhing in agony.

Swain rolled his eyes. “Back in my day, thieves didn’t make so much noise when they were trying to rob someone. Noxus really does need reform.”

The walk through the slums of Noxus was relatively uneventful. News hadn’t spread of Swain’s status as a wanted man, and the armor made him both intimidating and hard to recognize, eschewing his normal browns for a silver and midnight blue motif. While Swain would normally be bothered by armor this showy, he couldn’t help but ignore it in favor of his unusually chipper mood. Of course, even if his face wasn’t covered, it still wouldn’t have shown a hint of his emotional state.

Swain was never quite sure why Riven chose to live in the more run-down section of Noxus. As a champion, she did bring a bit of glory to Noxus and thus, her disappearance from the Noxian military had been overlooked, so the miniature fortress she had built for herself in the midst of the seediest part seemed oddly humble for a person of her stature. The dwelling in question was almost entirely utilitarian in design. The windows were barred in front of the glass, and though Swain could only see one entrance, he was mostly certain that there were a few hidden passages that Riven would be able to use in times of need. Without hesitation, he knocked loudly upon reaching the reinforced iron door.

- - -

“Guys, look at this. Looks like Zaunite authorities are taking another crack at Kass.” Ezreal looked at the paper a guard had posted only a few minutes previously, frowning as he read it to the others. “Kassadin, also known as the Void Walker. Wanted in Zaun for vandalism, disturbing the peace, disruption of commerce, and murder. Reward for his capture or information regarding his whereabouts can be paid in any commonly used currency or in gold. That’s promising.”

“Kassadin’s wanted for murder?” Twilight Sparkle frowned. “He didn’t seem like he would do something like that when we spoke.”

Ezreal shook his head. “Only time Kassadin’s drawn blood is in self-defense, which is justifiable in courts not controlled by Zaun’s mega-corporations, which basically means that as long as we’re in Zaun, he’s pretty much out of luck. Hope he gets here soon.”

“...but he’s still killed people,” Fluttershy stated sadly, her hair hanging down in her eyes. “I mean... Riven talked about why people would ever kill others, but it just seems so...I don’t think I could ever think of it as justifiable.”

“Well, you see...this isn’t like your world.” Ezreal frowned, not really sure what to say. “Sometimes, you have a life-threatening situation, where the only course of action is to use lethal force. I mean, there’s almost always a way to end a situation without death, but sometimes you don’t know what it is...I’m not really the one to ask about this stuff. Nasus is good with words. Talk with him or Riven or someone. I’m just an archaeologist, not a philosopher. I mean, I’m not trying to say it’s ever a good thing to take someone’s life, but sometimes it’s you or the other guy. Don’t judge him for doing what he had to.”

Twilight’s impending response was cut short by Kassadin appearing in a burst of purple light. “We’re leaving. Now. I’ve already paid an airship captain to leave the moment we get on board. Quickly. Zaun’s authorities didn’t appreciate my handling of our pursuers.”

Ezreal nodded. “Yeah, we can talk more later. I think it’s best to leave before anyone comes looking for Zaun’s Most Wanted. Next stop, Noxus!”

- - - -

Riven paused her morning exercises as she heard a knock on her door. Turning to Rainbow Dash, who was struggling to cope with being awake at any time of day before noon, she said, “Continue with the stretches, and then move on to the arm exercises. I’ll be back shortly.”

Riven sidestepped a few haphazardly stacked pieces of armor and hopped over a similarly disorganized pile of blades on her floor. She had never been much for keeping a tidy home. She spent more of her time out and about than at her compound anyway, so she didn’t see the point of going out of her way to make it appear perfect. She could always find what she needed to, and she never had any guests anyway. Between her crusades for the purification of Noxus and her fights in the League, time spent cleaning seemed like time wasted most days. Tattered banners and Noxian standards were suspended across her walls, unmaintained and forgotten since their usage in the Noxian invasion of Ionia. A withered painting of some wretched battlefield was the only piece of art in her home, and a sickly looking asphodel languished in a pot by one of the barred windows.

The heavy iron door itself even spoke of Riven’s absence, being scarred and pockmarked on the outside, and slightly rusted on the inside. When Riven finally navigated the debris that littered her floor, and opened the door, she was greeted by a man covered head to toe in armor that alternated between silver and midnight blue. Recognition clicked in Riven’s mind as a familiar bird settled on the man’s shoulder. “Swain? By the gods, what happened to you?”

“There have been some new-” Swain paused as he heard his own voice, which seemed underlayed with the voice of Nightmare. After a brief mental debate, he resumed, his voice back to its normal gruff disdain. “There have been some new developments, and I have...adapted accordingly. I wish to speak with you regarding your request, and one of my own.”

Riven inwardly jumped. This could be her chance to finally make some progress with her reforms, though she’d have to be sure this snake wasn’t just trying to use her. “Okay. Come in, and excuse the mess. Being in another world can get you behind on cleaning when you don’t have servants to do it for you.”

“I’ve seen worse, I guarantee.” Swain followed Riven into the compound, stepping aside so that Riven could lock and bar it again. Sweeping the room for free space, he finally settled on a mostly-occupied table to set his helmet down on. “Your home is very...utilitarian.”

“Not all of us care about pomp and circumstance in our domiciles. Dash! We have company! You probably wanna get in here,” Riven responded before yelling at Rainbow Dash, pushing aside the aforementioned pile of armor into a corner, and taking a seat on top of a table otherwise occupied with scattered repair tools.

Rainbow Dash walked into the room, wiping sweat from her brow, thankful that a good portion of her athletic nature translated into her new form as well. It took her a few seconds before she realized who was in the room with them. “...Riven, what is he doing here?”

“Greetings, Rainbow Dash. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life.” Swain smiled, his face the picture of sincerity. “I am here regarding business that I have with Riven. Oddly enough, it might concern you as well.”

Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes. “I saved you for Riven’s sake, not yours. All of the fancy smooth talk in the world doesn’t change that you’re a snake. Don’t think anypony trusts you here.”

“Never one to mince words, are you?” Swain cleared his throat. “I’ll get to the point then. Competitors of mine have found the resources to brand me a criminal, and as such, until their credibility is invalidated and their loyalty to Noxus put into severe question, for practical purposes I am no longer the Grand General of Noxus.”

“Our hearts bleed for you. Now leave if you have nothing else to say.” Dash snorted derisively, only stopping any further retorts when Riven held up her hand.

Swain continued. “As you might suspect, Riven, this might put your own projects in a precarious situation, as I am currently the only person anywhere near a position or a motivation to help you in your quest to ‘reform’ Noxus. As I said in our last meeting, I gave your points due consideration, and to some extent, agree, though for different reasons. My fellow Generals, though, are not so altruistic as you, though. You may attempt it, but your passionate pleas will undoubtedly fall on deaf ears. To put it frankly, unless I am in power, you have no chance to accomplish any of your political goals.”

“So you want help getting back in power? What could we possibly do to help in that?” Riven frowned at the prospect of her reforms becoming more impossible every second.

“No, I don’t. That isn’t your talent, and you’d probably not be able to do anything anyway,” Swain replied with a shake of his head. “I need a group to travel with. High Command is perfectly aware of most of my combat capabilities, and will be after me, dead or alive. I understand you and several other champions will be travelling to various places. I simply request to travel with you for safety in numbers, and a chance to use some of my contacts to put these power-mongering whelps in their places. You don’t even have to do anything besides assist me in fending off the occasional assassination attempt, which should be easy for several well-armed and well-trained champions of the League.”

“And in return...you help me get my reforms passed?” Riven was hesitant to trust Swain, but she couldn’t see any other route to her goal.

Swain nodded. “In our travels, I will set aside time for you and I to personally discuss your reforms, and I will assist you in clarifying and wording them in a manner that Noxus will not instinctively recoil from. What you wish to accomplish is broad and drastic, and will take time, planning, and a silver tongue.”

“How do we know that ‘silver tongue’ isn’t in action right now?” Rainbow Dash had been growing increasingly uncomfortable with how willingly Riven was going along with Swain’s ideas. “What’s to stop you from just pushing Riven to the side once you’re in power again?”

Swain was in his element now, easily batting aside Rainbow Dash’s concerns. “This sort of situation should seem familiar. My goals, once more, coincide with Riven’s. She wants an honorable, pure Noxus. I want a strong Noxus. We have been wasting a good portion of our resources sending into combat those who could be engineers or scientists. This is unacceptable. Riven’s reforms will allow Noxus to better spend the talent that we have to better our nation as a whole. An end result of a reformed Noxus will be an increase in my own popularity and thus the solidification of my power base, as well as decreased chances of my own assassination and the possibility of Noxus being an economic, social, and military powerhouse instead of just the latter. This arrangement benefits me, Riven, and the entirety of Noxus.”

Riven stared at the floor, deep in thought. “I honestly don’t see any other way.” Riven looked up, her hostile eyes piercing into Swain’s level gaze. “You even think of betraying us again, and you won’t have to worry about your power base because Rainbow Dash won’t stop me a second time. Are we understood?”

Swain flashed another smile. “Crystal.”

- - - -

“Is that...a giant skull? You’ve got to be joking. They built a city-state in a mountain that looks like a giant skull. I know Riven’s spoke a lot about how Noxus wasn’t all bad and everything, but seriously, you want people not to think you’re all bloodthirsty villains, and you live in a GIANT SKULL.” Twilight Sparkle seemed slightly flabbergasted at the initial sight of Noxus from the zeppelin, much to the amusement of Ezreal, Applejack, and Kassadin.

“Ah wouldn’t be so quick to presume. Maybe its some sort of cultural thing.” Applejack absentmindedly munched on her namesake, having been delighted to find out that apples seemed to exist here as well. “Ah mean, maybe in old times they needed some place easy to defend from predators and such. Mountains and hills can be some of the safest places to build settlements. Just cause it’s shaped like a skull doesn’t mean that it ain’t a good place to build.”

Ezreal chuckled. “Nope.Twilight’s right. Ninety percent of Noxians are murderous sociopaths, in my experience. We shouldn’t stay in Noxus any longer than we need to.”

“That seems a little judgmental,” Kassadin commented. “Perhaps they are simply products of their environment. It is hard to survive in Noxus without being a little cold and more than a little deadly.”

“Well, whose fault is that? I mean, it’s a nation of murderers raising a new generation of murderers by crushing anyone who isn’t psychotic underfoot,” Ezreal responded with a sneer.

Kassadin sighed in disapproval. “It’s a sad, self-perpetuating cycle, yes, but judging them for it accomplishes nothing. It is something to be pitied, if anything. It’s a wonder that Noxus has stayed so stable for so long. If anything, one could say that Noxus breeds an unusually hardy people.”

“Ah suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Anyway, Ah’m gonna go check on Fluttershy. For a pegasus, she sure does have problems with being in the air sometimes. Ah think this contraption makes her uncomfortable.” With that Applejack wandered deeper into the airship, leaving the three others to continue their conversation, which mostly consisted of Twilight trying to comprehend how anyone could live in Noxus, while Kassadin and Ezreal argued about the nature of the Noxian people. Meanwhile, the zeppelin started its descent.

- - - -

Rarity giggled as she completed another sale. The past few days had been a blast, really. The fashion industry in Demacia was ridiculously easy to break into, and with a few days, some flirtatious persuasion, and hard work, she’d started turning a profit after repaying those who had loaned her enough money to set up a small business. To her, the market in Demacia seemed simple to an almost archaic degree, as most of Demacian culture seemed centered around making sure everyone held the same, oddly self-righteous system of morality that seemed to run on disdain and shame more than anything else. Apparently, it had only been in recent times that the Demacian market had been stepping up to level of other city states in the realm of business and trade, shifting away from a primarily military and agricultural tradition. As such, the laws of ownership had been heavily relaxed, allowing her to rent a modest building to sell her increasingly popular wares in, as her often showy and extravagant creations seemed to fit into Demacian culture quite easily, and since the League Embassy had been giving her free room and board, her costs were at extremely low levels. If being in the fashion business in Equestria, which was often cutthroat and downright viscious, had taught Rarity anything, it was how to be a shrewd businessmare and how to make the most of small amounts of money. She had even made it a point of advertisement that she would only be in town for a short while, which had made her creations even more sought after. It was, overall, an arrangement that Rarity might have gone a month without going to the Ponyville spa for.

Of course, not all of her time had been spent on making and selling clothes, though her increasing exhaustion and coin purse might attest otherwise. In what few spare moments she had, Rarity had thought to ask her customers more about Demacia, and the history of Valoran, becoming more and more disconcerted at the descriptions of the Rune Wars that had once laid waste to the land. More interesting, though, were rumors that a cult local to Zaun had been seeking Rarity and her friends for some sort of worship of trans-dimenional entities that might or might not actually exist, but had not been officially acknowledged by the Institute of War, or any other city-state besides Noxus and Zaun. Apparently, at least one cultist had defected, trying to warn local media of the cult’s attempts to weaken the barriers between worlds, and that they had been plotting to kidnap six women from another world. Of course, most people dismissed it as hearsay, but Rarity found the rumor deeply disturbing. She’d have to talk to the others about it when they arrived, but apparently she was going to be the last one to be picked up as Twilight traveled the breadth and width of Valoran through various means to find her friends. Until then, Rarity decided that this rumor might bear more investigation.

- - - -

Celestia laughed, her voice cracking slightly, as she finally found the book on theoretical transportation magic that she had been searching for, and with desperation borne of grief and a lack of progress, she pored through the tome with fervor that most of her subjects had never seen her possess. Luna had long since taken over most of Celestia’s court duties as Celestia seemed to disappear into the Canterlot Archives for increasingly lengthy stretches of time.

Time seemed to wither away as she ripped knowledge from the book, and as she progressed through it, her heart began to sink again. Every book had been the same, theorizing and postulating but not giving any solid direction for Celestia to pursue, with that horrible voice in her ear, and a headache buzzing like a swarm of enraged bees.

‘You won’t save her in time.’ Celestia dropped the book, finally ready to let go of what little hope for her beloved student remained, only to suddenly perk up once more at a new addition to the voice’s verbal repitoire. ‘But we can help, if you let us.’

Celestia’s voice was barely above a strained whisper. “Show me how.”

Comments

[Dream Catcher]

Well... Does anyone have any Celly-turned-Kassadin pictures? 'Cause that's what's gonna' happen.

[voiddragon]

Ya kassadain my favorite champion fused with celestia my least favorite pony now shell be bearable.

[Tast]

Hey, Celestia... Your void is ringing. This is gonna be good! This is good! Good!

[AnubisLOAD]

Exellent as always, and it looks like things are starting to heat up, can't wait to find out what happens next chapter.

[11monkeys]

Nightmare Swain.
Now if I only could skin...

[Pleaseworkforonce]

shit this is making me hooked on LoL again bye guys well im finishing story while it updates

[dusk flame]

Damint! Celly is going to go inferno mode and mess everything up isn't she?

528908 I would buy both swain and the skin immediately if they gave him a nightmare skin. Hell I'd buy any champ that had an honest to goodness nightmare skin... Black blue and silver is just a badass color scheme. Even taric could be made to look straight with something like that.