Chapter 1 – The Eastern Islands
Jinx breathed in the morning air from the second floor’s balcony. Her fingers traced lazy patterns along the cool metal rail. Her eyes wandered over the city spread out below, drinking in the horizon.
Mount Targon had always had the most breathtaking view. The city, carved into the mountainside, seemed to blend in so naturally with the nature around it.
Sunlight glinted off passageways of marble that were adorned with blue and purple peonies, clung stubbornly to the winter chill. The citizens strolled along the streets below all dressed in fine silk. It was the kind of beauty that Jinx once thought belonged only in the fairytale books Vi used to read to her during their childhood.
She chuckled softly at the memory. Her lips curved into a smile as the chilly breeze teased her shoulder-length hair. The air smelled faintly of snow.
Today was a good day, she could feel it.
A warmth suddenly broke through the crispness of the air as gentle arms slid around her waist. Then came the familiar weight of a head resting on her shoulder.
"Come back to bed, baby," a voice purred softly into her ear, and Jinx’s smile deepened. She tilted her head slightly, catching a glimpse of bright eyes and tousled hair beside her.
It was hard to believe how far she’d come. Today marked a decade since the Piltovian War had ended. Ten years since Jinx had walked away from the chaos of the life she had always known. She had shattered the cycle that had cursed her family, leaving behind pain, anger, and the ruins of a life that no longer fit her.
Her gaze drifted back to the city below, where laughter and quiet conversation floated upward, mingling with the rustle of the wind. For the first time in a long while, Jinx allowed herself to believe that she had earned this happiness.
Her life had taken quite a turn since she left Zaun.
After faking her own death, Jinx had flown out of the continent in a huge airship, like she’d always dreamed of as a child. It was everything she'd imagined as she soared above the clouds until the world below felt as distant as her past. She finally felt the freedom she’d craved her entire life.
Nothing could erase all the wrongs she had done, but for once, she allowed herself to consider the possibility of peace. It wasn’t redemption, but it was a chance to lay down her weapons and confront the person she might have been before the world shattered her.
Vi was safe. Her sister was alive, breathing and whole, and after everything they had endured, Vi could now find her happy ending in the arms of the woman she loved.
Jinx knew it was the best happy ending they could have hoped for. Yet, despite her contentment, an ache in her heart never seemed to ease. She missed Vi desperately, just as she had for all those years they were apart.
Vi was her sister, after all. Her unbreakable bond.
Her first stop was Ionia. For a couple of months, she wandered through landscapes, endless salt farms, and dragon nests.
But Ionia wasn’t what she needed. It didn’t feel right, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was the tranquility that didn’t quite match her restless spirit. Or maybe it was the way the people spoke so much like the Enforcer who had captured Vi’s heart that it made her want to scream. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t settle there.
With what little money she had left, she booked passage on the next boat out of the islands. She didn’t bother to check its destination. It didn’t matter.
If you don’t know where you’re going, any path will do.
The one bad thing she discovered after her third day aboard was that traveling by boat was mind-numbingly boring.
The ship wasn’t grand or luxurious in any way. It was modestly sized, filled with just enough passengers to ensure that every corner seemed to be claimed, leaving her no chance of finding a quiet space for herself. The persistent smell of fish clung to everything. Walls, corridors, even the fabric of her clothes. Jinx hated fish.
Most of her time was spent pressed against the small window in her shared cabin, gazing out at the endless expanse of the Guardian’s Sea. The waves surged and crashed rhythmically, with silvery crests shimmering under the sunlight.
The most remarkable moment of her otherwise tedious voyage happened just before sunset one evening. She had taken a crust of bread from the galley and wandered near the deck, nibbling absentmindedly as she watched the horizon. Without warning, a sudden splash interrupted the stillness.
Her body stiffened, eyes darting toward the ripple in the water. For a moment, the sea seemed ominous, like it might spit something out at her. She stared hard, as if bracing herself for an ambush.
And then it happened again. A creature emerged from the water, fast and big, as it kept pace with the ship.
A seahorse.
A massive creature she vaguely remembered Vander describing to her as a child. Its dark purple head pierced the surface, reflecting under the golden light of the setting sun. The creature moved gracefully, as if it was galloping across an invisible meadow with its pinkish fins and its long, scaled tail.
She watched in stunned silence.
Moments later, more of them appeared. Smaller, swifter seahorses joined the first. Jinx’s heart quickened as she realized it was a family of five.
She placed her bread aside, inching closer to the ship’s edge.
Free creatures living their lives, wild and untamed, together.
Like she once was, too. She remembered Vander, Claggor and Mylo, her sister's kind eyes.
Jinx smiled softly. Isha would have loved this.
By the time land came into view, about three weeks later, she decided to never sail again.
The rocks surrounding Bilgewater Bay were so big, Hextower would cower in their presence.
Limestone islands and islets that emerge from the waters off the coast ranged from towering karsts with deep caves, to tiny formations ringed by white-sand beaches.
Waterfalls placed on top of all the mountains, cascading down the air in a mist of droplets that barely touched the sea. It mostly just fogged along the way as the small particles of clean water gently floated around.
Jinx could see the imposing wooden structures as they navigated inside the labyrinth of meandering canals and hidden inlets, with no separation between houses and the sea. The place was dark, though. Lit up by only a couple of sun rays that managed to infiltrate the dense vegetation of the mountains and a few street lights scattered throughout debris on the sidewalks.
People down there looked sketchy. Pirates, she'd heard. The port city of Bilgewater was filled with thieves and pirates.
It reminded her of Zaun, so she felt like home for the first time since she'd left Vi.
The first weeks she spent at Bilgewater were fairly uneventful. She picked up small jobs for a couple of merchants by the bay, doing whatever low-paying tasks came her way. Fortunately, unlike in Ionia, no one here recognized her, or if they did, they didn’t care. She was just another face among the countless murderers and criminals populating the lower city.
Her days were spent surrounded by junk. Rusted metal scraps and bits of leftover hextech that littered the area, remnants that were either stolen from the mainland or washed up on shore.
She began crafting simple gears and tools, selling them for a few coins here and there. It wasn’t much, but it kept her going.
After a month, she had grown accustomed to sleeping beneath the stars.
Loneliness wasn’t as bad as she remembered it. Perhaps because, in truth, Jinx had never truly been alone.She’d always been a lucky bastard in terms of finding people who loved her, she just sucked ass at keeping them.
Her parents, Vander, Violet, Silco, Isha, the names stacked up. Even Sevika, who surely despised her, had still sacrificed more than she should have to save Jinx over and over again.
And yet, here she was, without them all.
For the first time in nearly a decade, though, her mind was quiet. No voices, no illusions, no hallucinations. Just stillness.
There was numbness and grief, but those had always been there. Sometimes, she wondered if she’d been born with it, like a sickness etched into her bones, her face forever sculpted by sorrow.
Pain wasn’t a stranger. She’d even sought it, and welcomed it with open arms. She’d chased it like a drug, convinced that pain had to be better than feeling nothing at all.
How funny. Now she ran from it like a wounded dog. A whiny bitch who couldn't handle the resemblance of Vi on her own reflection. Who could not catch a glimpse of a running child without thinking of wild brown hair and golden eyes. Who could not live a day without thinking of the three fathers she’d lost, the two she killed.
“Hello, there, mate.”
Jinx slowly cracked her eyes open.
“...yes?” She mumbled, her voice coated with sleep. The man in front of her held out a crumpled piece of paper. She stared at the man’s large frame, his rugged exterior, and his clothes that were curiously tidy for someone who smelled like whisky and blood.
“Apologies fer wakin’ ye, lass,” he rumbled, tossing her a crumpled piece of paper onto the bench in front of her. “But I reckon this might be ye.”
Jinx sat up slow-like, wincing as the familiar ache in her back jabbed her ribs from weeks of’ sleeping on benches. With a grunt, she snatched the Jinxlowed paper ball and lobbed it back at him without much care.
“It’s not.” She said, standing up.
The man looked amused and for some reason it profoundly pissed her off.
“Didn’t mean t’ruffle yer feathers, lass,” he said, his tone casual as if they were sharing drinks at a tavern. “Just wanted a word.”
“Not interested,” she shot back.
“Ye don’t even know what I’m–”
“Listen here, mate,” Jinx pinched the bridge of her nose. She was too damn tired for this shit. “I’m not interested. Whoever you think I am, I’m not.”
The man nodded slowly, “Fair enough. What’s yer name, then?”
She hesitated.
“Isha.”
“Ye from Piltover?”
She couldn't help but grimace at him with disgust. She thought about simply walking away. She didn't owe this man any explanation whatsoever, but it had been so long since someone talked to her out of their own volition, that she became curious as to where this was going.
“Zaun,” she said.
The man scratched his thick beard and nodded. “Thought so. Name’s Graves.”
Malcom Graves, she thought. It was hard not to live in Bilgewater for over a month and not hear that name a couple of times. Jinx wasn't sure why he was such a prominent figure, though.
“What do you want?” She asked.
Graves smirked. “Oh, so ye’re interested now?”
“No,” she snapped, shrugging. “Just bored.”
“Fair ‘nough,” he said, leaning back. “Heard about ye from a friend across the sea. Or rather, heard about the girl on this poster here.”
He picked up the crumpled paper, smoothing it out with calloused hands, then held it out to her.
Jinx’s eyes narrowed as she took in her own face, staring back at her beneath the word WANTED.
A flash of Caitlyn aiming her rifle at her. Vi screaming, Isha hanging on to her for dear life.
“That’s not me.” She said, turning to sit back on her bench. She’d rather be bored than haunted.
Graves chuckled, “Plannin’ t’stay in Bilgewater, then, Isha?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’ve got a ship leavin’ fer the mainland in two weeks,” he said, his tone suddenly businesslike. “Need someone t’keep the engine hummin’. Word is, ye’ve got the skills fer it.”
Jinx looked at him, surprised.
“Are you offering me a job?” She scoffed, “What is this, your new kidnapping technique? You seek young and frail girls in need, offer them a way out, like a pimp?” She mocked, sticking her bottom lip out.
Graves didn’t flinch. His grin stayed firmly in place, like a man who knew the tide better than the shore. She wanted to rip that ugly mustache right off of his face.
“We’re headin’ to Harelport first,” he said. “Ten days’ journey. Ye can disembark there, if it suits ye. After that, we’re bound fer Piltover.”
Suddenly Jinx understood. And with that, a wave of anger drowned her in.
Four months. She’d been gone for only four goddamn months and Sevika had already found her.
She stood up abruptly, walking towards the man. She cocked her eyebrows, leaned down on her hind leg, slackly standing in front of him. He was big enough to tower over her, but Jinx barely ever felt fear anymore.
Which, on a side note, was a problem on another frame rate. How could a person be stripped of a basic survival instinct so thoroughly that the imminent face of danger didn't even ring an alarm inside their mind?
She leaned close, staring Graves down like she could burn the truth outta him.
“A friend across the sea, huh?” Her voice was sharp as a cutlass. “Sevika’s gotten sloppy with her nicknames.”
Graves grinned wide. “Ye’re just as fiery as she said.”
“I am not going back. I’m happy here.”
Graves looked around at the stolen backpack and broken bench she’d been living on for the last five days. She recoiled.
“Aye, sure,” he said, “But as I said, yer can stay at the Harelport harbor, if ya’d like.”
Jinx frowned. “What exactly is she paying you to do?”
Graves shrugged, and took a cigarette from his back pocket. He lit it up, blowing off the smoke through his nose.
“She ain’t, I owed her ol’ man. Honor’s a funny thing, lass.”
Jinx snorted, crossing her arms. “Honor, huh? Guess you are just another thief with a shiny excuse.”
Graves laughed, “A man’s nothin’ without his honor, lass. Even pirates know that.”
“Whatever. What does she want, if she doesn't care if I go back?”
“Harelport has a bunch of caravans to the continent. Safer than port cities, more hidden too.”
Jinx looked down at her hands.
Right. She was still wanted.
Even her own death wasn’t enough to erase the blood stains from her hands.
“Tell her she doesn't have to care for my safety. I can do that myself.”
He sighed and held his cigar in between his index and his thumb.
“Y’know, kid,” He coughed the smoke out. “I don’t really know what yer did to end up in a place like this, alone.”
“Bad things. I’m a bad person.”
Graves smiled. “Look around. Everyone is. Truth is, we can’t change our past, but we don’t have to let it define us.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“And I don’t care. Yer’ve got people who love ye.”
There was a time she would have shrugged off the comment, and gone back to sleep. But now, as loneliness weighed on her, it was as if words came out of her mouth without her even noticing.
Perhaps it was the human urge to form connections. Perhaps she was just going through an oversharing phase. Or perhaps, Graves just looked a bit too much like Vander.
Either way, she looked him in the eye, and did not flip him off (and it wasn't because she didn't have a middle finger anymore).
“I am not worthy of love.”
A beat.
“No one is. It’s not somethin’ you deserve, it is gifted upon ya. Ya’ get it for free, wether ya’ like it or not. Someone sees the broken and ugly parts of ya’ and loves it anyway. We’re all fucked up bastards until someone is kind enough to want us.”
Jinx stays silent. She never liked being scolded, and that felt like a gentler version of it.
But she supposed it was true. He was right and every single person who had ever meant something to her was proof of that.
Isha loved her even when she had nothing to give.
Vi, whom she’d hurt more than anyone, never gave up on her.
Vander, Silco, Sevika. Vi. Isha. Isha. Isha. They all loved her the best way they could, and their loss would take time to heal, but she was so fucking tired of running from it.
Maybe doing what Sevika wanted her to was not the worst idea.
She couldn't go back to Piltover just yet. She still had stuff to figure out, but maybe the continent would bring her more answers. And in the meantime, it would soothe the heart of one of the unlucky people who found themselves in the unfortunate position to care for her.
So, with a hesitance she rarely felt, Jinx sighed.
“When does your ship leave, again?”