Reconnaissance
Chapter 3: Reconnaissance
Ambessa’s fleet lay hidden in the icy mist, just beyond sight of the Delverhold. The hulking warships, painted in muted tones to blend with the wintry sea, rocked gently against the frigid waters. Frost clung to their hulls, the biting winds howling like restless spirits across the Freljord. From her flagship, Ambessa watched the mountain fortress through a spyglass, its dark, jagged silhouette barely visible against the pale, snow-laden peaks that loomed behind it. The Delverhold was a monument to Noxian might—a sprawling stronghold carved into the mountain’s face, its stone walls scarred by centuries of frost and battle. Its towering gates, reinforced with thick bands of iron, stood like clenched jaws guarding the mines below, which had long fueled Noxus’s relentless war machine.
The fortress had been built to withstand sieges, a bastion of power in one of the most inhospitable terrains in Runeterra. Narrow paths snaked up its cliffs, treacherous and steep, flanked by jagged rocks that seemed to leer at anyone foolish enough to attempt an assault. The walls bristled with defenses—arrow slits, trebuchets, and battlements lined with weary soldiers cloaked in furs. Yet even from this distance, Ambessa could see the strain in their movements. Their steps were heavy, their pacing sluggish, as though the fortress itself was draining the life from them.
Ambessa lowered the spyglass and let her sharp golden eyes take in the scene. The Delverhold might look impenetrable to some, but she saw it for what it truly was—a dying beast clinging to its last breaths. Her informants had reached her even here, in the icy isolation of the Freljord. Emperor Boram Darkwill had abandoned Darius, denying his desperate pleas for reinforcements and supplies. His forces were fraying, their legendary discipline splintering under the weight of starvation, exhaustion, and the unforgiving winter. Ambessa could almost taste their desperation on the icy wind.
She turned her gaze to the rugged mountains that cradled the fortress, their peaks piercing the sky like jagged teeth. Snow cascaded down their slopes in slow drifts, the air heavy with the threat of sudden storms. It was a terrain designed by nature to break armies, and yet Darius had been forced to endure it. His soldiers, once heralded as Noxus’s finest, were now shadows of their former selves. Their banners hung limp in the cold, their once-proud cries of unity now muffled by the endless howl of the wind.
Ambessa stood unmoving on the bow of her flagship, the Iron Revenant, the frost clinging to her dark cloak and the edges of her polished armor. The biting cold bit at her skin, but she welcomed it, embraced it as part of the environment she intended to conquer. She placed her hands behind her back, her gloved fingers tightening as her mind worked through every detail of the impending assault. She would not waste lives in a reckless charge, nor would she squander the advantage gifted to her by Darius’s desperation. This was not just about vengeance; it was about precision.
Her fleet remained shrouded in mist, hidden like wolves in the brush, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The icy water mirrored her patience, the frozen waves lapping softly against the hulls as though they, too, held their breath. The Delverhold had been built to withstand a siege, but Ambessa had no intention of giving them the time to mount a proper defense. She would strike hard and fast, a calculated blow aimed at the heart of Noxus’s invincibility.
Darius had made the fortress his sanctuary, his last stand, but Ambessa knew better. A fortress was only as strong as its defenders, and she could see the cracks forming in his army. Morale was broken, supplies dwindling, the brutal cold chipping away at the resolve of even the most hardened soldiers. This was not the army that had once swept across Runeterra, crushing all in its path. It was a tired, desperate force, clinging to the belief that the Delverhold could save them.
Ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest smile, though there was no warmth in it. She turned to one of her officers, her voice cutting through the cold with the authority of a seasoned general. “Hold position,” she commanded, her eyes returning to the fortress in the distance. “We wait for the storm. Let the weather soften them further. When the time comes, they won’t know what hit them.”
Her gaze drifted back to the Delverhold, its shadowed walls barely discernible under the heavy clouds that blanketed the night sky. The pale glow of the moon struggled to pierce through, casting faint, fleeting light over the fortress’s jagged silhouette. It loomed like a dark sentinel over the Freljord’s frozen expanse—a symbol of Noxus’s unyielding dominance. But even the mightiest symbols could be brought low. Veiled in the thick mist that clung to the icy waters, Ambessa’s fleet lay in wait, her army, her wolves, were poised to strike. For Ambessa, this was far more than just a battle. It was justice, vengeance, and an opportunity to leave a scar on Noxus so deep it would never heal. Above, the clouds churned ominously, a storm brewing in the distance—a harbinger of the chaos to come.
Ambessa stood tall against the freezing winds that howled around her. The ship rocked gently with the shifting tide, its iron hull cutting through the icy waters like a blade. Behind her, the crackling hearth served as the only source of warmth, its fire casting flickering shadows across the faces of her most trusted advisors. The orange glow danced on polished steel and the sharp features of the her seasoned advisors, but Ambessa’s focus wasn’t on them. She didn’t need their council, not yet. Her golden eyes flicked to Vi, who stood silently at her side, shrouded in a heavy cloak that billowed faintly in the frigid breeze.
The faint shimmer of the veins beneath Vi’s scarred flesh was muted slightly by the fabric, but Ambessa didn’t need to see it to feel the strength radiating from her. This was no longer the girl she had found so long ago—a rebel, raw, and ruled by untamed fury. The Vi who stood beside her now had been reforged, not into a mere weapon but into something far more dangerous: a strategist, a leader, a force of nature tempered by knowledge and discipline.
Vi had learned much under Ambessa’s tutelage, though not without resistance. In the beginning, strategy had felt like a chain, a leash on the wild fury that Vi relied on in a fight. To her, the battlefield was chaos, raw and unpredictable, and she thrived in its unpredictability. But Ambessa had been relentless. With an unyielding patience that often masked her frustration, she had drilled into Vi the art of strategy, forcing her to see the battlefield not as a chaotic brawl but as a living chessboard. Every move had weight, every piece had purpose.
At first, Vi balked, her natural defiance clashing with Ambessa’s insistence on discipline and control. Let me fight, she had signed once, her glowing scars bright with frustration. Ambessa had only smiled, her golden eyes gleaming with resolve. “Not until you learn why you fight.” It was those words, as much as the hours of instruction, that had stuck with Vi. Slowly, begrudgingly, she began to understand.
What had once been wild, chaotic rage had been sculpted into precision, her mind as sharp as any blade Ambessa had placed in her hand. Vi had learned to anticipate her enemy’s actions, to exploit their weaknesses, and to strike with devastating efficiency. Her battles were no longer won by brute force alone but by calculated strikes, each decision guided by the clarity Ambessa had instilled in her. No longer driven purely by instinct, Vi wielded her newfound insight like a weapon, cutting through the fog of war with a lethal balance of discipline and raw power.
Ambessa allowed herself a moment of quiet pride as she regarded Vi. The girl who had once been a blunt instrument had become something far greater—something Ambessa could call her own. Her eyes softened for a brief moment, though her expression remained composed. In Vi, Ambessa saw not only the fruits of her labor but also a future she had never allowed herself to imagine: someone who stood at her side, not because she was commanded to, but because she belonged there.
Vi shifted slightly, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she turned her glowing eyes toward Ambessa. Her mechanical arm rested beneath the folds of her cloak, but Ambessa could sense the faint hum of its energy, a constant reminder of the power Vi wielded. Slowly, Vi raised her hands from beneath the heavy cloak, her movements deliberate and precise as she began to sign. The gestures were fluid, confident, each one carrying a weight that words could never fully capture.
It’s all because of you, Vi signed, her gaze steady, her smile widening ever so slightly. The message was simple, but the emotion behind it was unmistakable.
Ambessa’s lips curved into a faint, smile, a fleeting crack in her usually stoic demeanor. She reached out, her hand settling firmly yet gently on Vi’s shoulder, the warmth of her touch a stark contrast to the biting cold around them. “No, Violet,” she said, her voice low and steady, yet imbued with a quiet gravity that seemed to echo across the frozen expanse. “This is who you were always meant to be.”
For Ambessa, this moment cemented something she had long felt and openly acknowledged. Vi wasn’t just her Hand or her weapon. She wasn’t just another piece on the board. Vi was family—her daughter in every sense that mattered. The thought warmed her more than the crackling hearth ever could, though she kept the thought close, unspoken to everyone but Vi. To Ambessa, actions had always spoken louder than words, and in Vi’s unyielding loyalty and growth, she saw everything she needed to know.
Vi abruptly grabbed her left arm—the hextech one—with her flesh hand, her fingers clamping tightly around the glowing gemstone embedded in its center. The lack of edges pressed into her palm through the thick fabric of her cloak, but she barely noticed. A brilliant flash erupted, bathing the deck in cold, electric blue light that danced wildly across the iron surfaces around them. The energy pulsed violently, throwing jagged shadows against the surrounding mist.
Vi staggered as the first pulse slammed into her stomach, a jagged bolt of blue lightning shooting from the gemstone. The force drove the air from her lungs, her knees buckling slightly as she gasped against the searing pain. Her jaw locked as the agony radiated through her shimmering veins, an electrified fire that surged from her mechanical arm and tore through her entire body. She gritted her teeth so hard they threatened to crack, her breath hitching with every wave of the unrelenting energy.
Another bolt of lightning shot from the gemstone, this time striking the deck of the ship. The sharp crack of impact was deafening, the blue energy splintering outward in wild, erratic patterns that scorched the iron and sent sparks skittering across the frozen planks. The smell of burning metal filled the air, mixing with the biting cold as the deck itself seemed to recoil from the force.
The final blast erupted upward, a streak of lightning tearing into the night sky with a fury that made the clouds above writhe as if alive. The light illuminated the heavy, storm-laden expanse for a brief, blinding moment before vanishing into the swirling darkness. Thunder rumbled faintly in response, as though the storm itself had been awakened by the violent energy.
Vi staggered under the force of the pulses, her mechanical arm jerking violently before falling limp at her side. The gemstone pulsed violently, dimming briefly before sending out a chilling ripple that expanded outward like a wave crashing against unseen barriers. The engines of the Iron Revenant sputtered and fell silent in an instant, the low, steady hum of hextech energy replaced by an eerie, suffocating stillness.
The wave spread beyond the flagship, reaching the rest of Ambessa’s fleet. One by one, the ships’ engines faltered, their lanterns flickering out like dying stars. The once-mighty armada became a fleet of dark, drifting shadows on the icy waters, their presence all but swallowed by the cold mist. The silence was oppressive, the absence of the engines’ hum more unsettling than the sound itself.
Ambessa turned sharply to Vi, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. The pain etched into Vi’s face was undeniable—raw and unguarded. Ambessa had rarely, if ever, seen Vi falter like this. Not since before… Her chest tightened as her gaze darted from Vi’s pale, strained expression to the darkened gemstone in her hextech arm.
Another, weaker pulse erupted from the gemstone, the light flaring briefly before dimming once more. The blue glow that had once defined the arm’s intricate mechanisms was now erratic, fading into dull embers. The arm hung lifeless, its once-smooth motions now stilled entirely. For the first time, its intricate machinery was silent, leaving Vi’s body trembling against the aftermath of the blast.
Ambessa took a step closer, her voice sharp but with an undercurrent of concern. “Violet, what’s happening?” But even as she asked, the general’s mind raced, her instincts warning her that whatever had just occurred was far from over. The storm brewing above seemed to echo her thoughts, the sky roiling as if in anticipation of the chaos to come.
Vi winced, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, each inhalation sharp and shallow as she fought to steady herself. Her hextech arm dangled uselessly at her side, its weight pulling awkwardly at her shoulder, the once-polished metal now scorched and darkened where the blue lightning had arced. The fabric of her cloak had burned away around the impact site, leaving jagged, charred edges that curled inward toward her skin. Beneath the tattered remnants, a raw, angry wound seared across her abdomen where the first bolt had struck—a jagged line of burned flesh glowing faintly blue with residual hextech. Yet, even as Ambessa’s eyes locked onto it, the wound began to knit itself back together, the shimmer working relentlessly beneath the surface.
Ambessa stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, each step measured against the biting wind and the tension in the air. Her golden eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned Vi with an intensity that bordered on scrutiny. Yet beneath the surface of her gaze, a flicker of concern revealed itself, a crack in the otherwise impenetrable armor of her composure. Her hands hovered just above Vi, hesitant to touch, as though unsure whether to intervene or simply observe.
“Violet?” she said again, her voice low and steady, but with an edge that betrayed the controlled urgency she so rarely allowed to surface.
Vi drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her glowing black eyes closing briefly as she willed her composure to return. Her body trembled faintly, the aftershocks of the energy blast lingering in her flesh like static. Slowly, she raised her right hand, her fingers shaking as they began to move with deliberate precision. I don’t know, she signed, her movements fluid yet burdened by exhaustion. That wasn’t me.
Ambessa’s sharp gaze followed every gesture, the tension in her face deepening as she processed Vi’s words. Her eyes flicked to the gemstone embedded in Vi’s lifeless arm, its once-vivid glow now dim and flickering intermittently, as if struggling to regain its former strength. It was cracked along its edges, fine fractures branching out like veins of lightning frozen in stone. The faintest hum emanated from it, a low, uneven vibration that set Ambessa’s teeth on edge.
The general straightened slowly, her powerful frame towering against the backdrop of the darkened fleet. Her hands clenched at her sides, leather gloves creaking as her fingers tightened into fists. Her gaze darted toward the surrounding warships, now eerily silent and motionless, their engines still dead from the ripple Vi’s arm had unleashed. The icy wind howled around them, carrying with it an unnerving quiet from the fleet—a stillness that only heightened the sense of unease coiling in Ambessa’s chest.
Whatever had just occurred wasn’t random. Ambessa could feel it. It was deliberate, calculated, and far more dangerous than she had anticipated. She turned her attention back to Vi, her golden eyes softening just enough to betray the faintest glimmer of vulnerability. The scars crisscrossing Vi’s glowing skin pulsed faintly beneath the cloak, a reminder of the power Ambessa had forged within her—and the uncontrollable forces it might now harbor.
“Violet,” Ambessa said, her voice cutting through the wind with a calm authority that belied her growing unease. “This isn’t just an accident. Something’s tied to that arm, to that power. And we will figure out what.”
For the first time in years, Ambessa felt the stirrings of something unfamiliar. Not fear—fear was a weakness she had long since crushed within herself. But a deep, unsettling awareness that forces beyond her control were now in play. Forces tied inexplicably to Vi, the volatile gemstone embedded in her arm, and the storm that was now building above and around them. Forces that, for all her strength and strategy, Ambessa knew she could not face alone.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Vi’s hextech arm emitted a soft hum and flickered back to life. The faint glow of the gemstone stabilized, its fractured edges pulsing faintly before regaining their familiar brilliance. The intricate mechanisms shifted with fluid precision, the joints and plates moving as though the disruption had been nothing more than a fleeting malfunction. Around them, the Iron Revenant rumbled to life, its engines roaring steadily as the energy that had faltered surged back into motion. The ship vibrated beneath their feet, its iron hull reverberating with a power that had momentarily been silenced. Across the frozen expanse, the rest of the fleet followed suit. One by one, their shadowed forms illuminated against the darkness, lanterns flickering on and engines resuming their deep, rhythmic cadence. It was as though the fleet’s momentary stillness had never occurred, the armada’s imposing presence once again dominating the icy waters.
Vi flexed her hextech arm experimentally, her glowing black eyes narrowing as she tested its range. She curled her mechanical fingers into a tight fist, the steel plates grinding faintly as the servos clicked back into alignment. Rotating her wrist, she noted its flawless response, the arm functioning as it always had. Yet, as her mechanical hand moved effortlessly, her flesh hand trembled faintly at her side. The residual pain lingered there, ghosting up her arm and settling deep in her chest. Her breaths were uneven, shallow, as she fought to steady the erratic pounding of her heart. The shimmer in the scar on her cheek pulsed irregularly, its light flickering like a faltering ember, struggling to find its rhythm.
Ambessa’s sharp golden eyes never left Vi. Every movement, every flicker of discomfort etched into Vi’s features was scrutinized with the precision of a commander assessing the battlefield. Her lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line, her towering frame exuding authority even as she stepped closer. But there was something in her gaze—something beyond strategy, beyond the calculation of a general. Concern, subtle but undeniable, softening the hard lines of her expression.
“Are you alright?” Ambessa asked, her voice low, steady, yet carrying tenderness. The biting wind howled around them, tugging at her cloak, but she didn’t waver, her focus entirely on Vi.
Vi turned to her slowly, her glowing eyes meeting Ambessa’s with a mixture of exhaustion and defiance. Her nod was curt, deliberate, as if to reassure not just Ambessa but herself. The strain on her face, however, told a different story. The echoes of pain still haunted her, visible in the faint tightness around her mouth and the unsteadiness of her stance. It wasn’t enough for Ambessa.
With deliberate care, Ambessa reached out, resting firmly on Vi’s flesh shoulder. The contact was warm despite the freezing air around them, the weight of her touch grounding rather than commanding. She leaned in slightly, her golden eyes narrowing as she searched Vi’s face for answers she wasn’t willing to leave unsaid. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice softer now, the edge of her usual authority giving way to something quieter, something vulnerable. It was a rare moment—Ambessa, stripped of her role as a warlord and standing as something else entirely: a mother.
Vi hesitated, the weight of Ambessa’s question settling heavily in the icy air between them. For a fleeting moment, uncertainty flickered in her expression, but it was quickly replaced by resolve. Slowly, she nodded again, this time more firmly. Her gaze met Ambessa’s head-on, unwavering despite the faint shimmer of pain still evident in her eyes. I’m fine,the nod seemed to say, a silent testament to her resilience and determination.
Ambessa let out a quiet breath, the tension in her broad shoulders easing just slightly. Her hand lingered for a moment longer on Vi’s shoulder, the gesture firm yet comforting, before she finally let it fall to her side. Her gaze shifted away, sweeping across the fleet that now hummed with life once more. The faint lines of worry that had creased her brow smoothed out, replaced by the cold, calculating demeanor of a commander. Yet, deep in her chest, the gnawing unease remained.
Whatever had happened—whatever force had surged through Vi and silenced their fleet—it wasn’t over. Ambessa could feel it in the air, in the unnatural stillness that had briefly overtaken them. It wasn’t just a malfunction. It was a warning. A shift. And as she stood against the howling wind, her mind already turning to what lay ahead, one thought solidified: this wasn’t just about the fleet or the mission. It was about Vi. For all her strength, Ambessa knew that this young woman—this weapon, this daughter—was walking a path that neither of them fully understood.
As the freezing winds battered the ship and the icy waters of the Freljord stretched endlessly before them, Ambessa and Vi stood together at the bow—two forces bound by purpose, strength, and a bond that neither the cold nor the coming storm could break. The weight of what had just occurred hung heavy in the air, mingling with the relentless howl of the wind. The faint hum of Vi’s hextech arm had finally stabilized, but the advisors who stood behind them weren’t so easily reassured.
Ambessa took a deep breath, the icy air burning her lungs as she steadied herself. Slowly, she turned, her eyes sharp as they swept over the gathered advisors. Their faces were pale, their breaths visible in the frigid air, but it wasn’t just the cold that had shaken them. Their wide eyes darted between Ambessa and Vi, lingering on the faint shimmer of Vi’s scars, the eerie glow of the gemstone embedded in her arm, and the deck scorched where the earlier blue lightning had struck. The mix of fear and uncertainty etched into their expressions was almost palpable.
One advisor, bolder than the rest, attempted to speak, his voice faltering against the relentless wind. “General… what was that?” the words barely escaped his lips, his tone wavering between curiosity and barely contained terror.
Ambessa’s gaze snapped to him, her eyes narrowing in a way that silenced the question before it could fully form. Her imposing presence seemed to grow, her cloak billowing around her like the wings of some great. “What you witnessed,” she said, her voice low and measured, cutting through the cold like a blade, “is power you will never need to understand. Focus on your tasks. Leave the rest to me.”
The advisor swallowed hard, his face paling further as he nodded quickly and stepped back into the shadow of the others. A ripple of unease spread through the group, their whispers lost to the howling wind as they shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Vi with a mixture of awe and dread.
Ambessa turned her back to them, dismissing their presence entirely as though they were nothing more than an afterthought. Her focus returned to Vi, who stood silently, her glowing black eyes fixed on the distant horizon. The faint shimmer of the scars on her cheek flickered like embers, a quiet reminder of the power that had just surged through her.
“Let them tremble,” Ambessa murmured, her voice so low that only Vi could hear. “They’ll follow fear if it gets them results. And you, Violet, are a result they’ll never forget.”
Vi said nothing, but the faintest curve of her lips betrayed her thoughts. Whatever storm had passed, it had left her standing unbroken at Ambessa’s side, a fact the advisors would do well to remember.
“We need more information,” Ambessa said directly to her advisors, her voice low but decisive, cutting through the sound of the wind like a blade. She glanced at Vi, her golden eyes sharp with purpose but tinged with something softer, something unspoken. She motioned for Vi to turn around, and without hesitation, Vi complied, the heavy fabric of her cloak falling loose from her shoulders. The icy wind lashed against them as Vi’s back was exposed to the freezing air, revealing the map of Runeterra carved into her skin.
The lines of the map glowed faintly with shimmer, casting an otherworldly light in the darkness. The intricate details shimmered like veins of molten black, pulsing faintly in rhythm with Vi’s own heartbeat. Each ridge and line, every groove etched into her flesh, stood as a testament to Ambessa’s unrelenting will and Vi’s unbreakable spirit. But to Ambessa, it was more than a map. It was a scar of her own making—a brand that symbolized the control she had exerted over Vi.
Ambessa’s golden eyes lingered on the glowing marks, her fingers hesitating before they moved to trace a line along the map. The weight of her choices pressed heavily on her, and for a moment, her mask slipped. A shadow of regret crossed her face, her hardened features softening as her hand hovered over Vi’s back. She had done this to break Vi from her past, to erase the marks that had been inflicted upon her by a life of chaos. Yet in doing so, Ambessa had replaced them with her own design, her own will. Had she saved Vi, or had she merely broke and claimed her?
Her fingers brushed against one of the glowing lines, the warmth of the shimmer beneath Vi’s skin meeting the chill of Ambessa’s touch. She paused at the narrow pass etched into the map—the route that would lead them to Delverhold. The glowing line seemed to pulse brighter for a moment, as though the map or Vi herself understood the weight of the journey ahead.
“Darius’s men are broken,” Ambessa said, her voice firm and commanding, though a faint tremor lingered beneath the surface. “But they are not without fight. We need to see how far they’ve truly fallen. Their weak points. Their movements. Their desperation.” Her words were sharp and calculated, but her movements betrayed something more tender. As her fingers lingered on Vi’s back, a faint sigh escaped her lips, nearly lost to the wind.
Slowly, Ambessa drew the cloak back into place, each movement deliberate and gentle, as though shielding Vi’s body from the harsh cold would also protect her from the world’s cruelties. Her hands worked carefully, smoothing the fabric over Vi’s shoulders as if she were handling something precious, something fragile. The act was not one of a commander tending to a soldier—it was something deeper, something rooted in care.
Her fingers lingered on the edges of the cloak for a moment, her golden eyes softening as she looked at Vi’s silhouette against the dark horizon. With the cloak secured once more, Ambessa straightened, her commanding presence returning, though the faint warmth in her expression lingered for just a moment longer. She would shield Vi from the cold, from pain, from the world itself if she could. But for now, she could only ensure Vi’s back remained covered, her body protected against the biting wind.
Instead of ordering her advisors to send scouts, as they expected, Ambessa remained firm, her towering frame rigid with authority. Her golden eyes scanned the group, daring any to challenge her as she declared, “I will send Vi.” The cold air carried her words with a weight that brooked no dissent.
A ripple of unease passed through the advisors, their breaths clouding in the icy air. One woman, her hands trembling slightly despite the heavy fur-lined gloves she wore, stepped forward. Her face was tight with apprehension, but she spoke nonetheless. “General,” she began hesitantly, her voice wavering. “Is that wise? Sending her alone—”
The sentence was barely complete before Vi moved. There was no hesitation, no need for permission. The faint hum of her hextech arm grew louder as she crossed the distance in a flash, her grip snapping around the advisor’s throat like a vice. The woman’s gasp was choked off instantly, her hands clawing weakly at Vi’s mechanical arm as the advisor’s feet dangled helplessly above the deck.
Vi’s expression was cold, her glowing black eyes drilling into the woman with unrelenting fury. With every step she took toward the railing, her grip tightened. The faint sound of metal creaking under pressure blended with the advisor’s strangled attempts to breathe. Vi’s boots struck the deck in slow, deliberate rhythm, each impact a drumbeat to the inevitable.
The wind howled fiercely around them, ripping at Vi’s cloak and braid as she strode forward, unyielding. The glow of her scars pulsed in steady cadence with her rage, illuminating her flesh in eerie flashes beneath the darkened sky. Each pulse seemed to amplify the tension in the air, a stark warning to anyone who might dare to intervene.
At the edge of the ship, Vi stopped, her silhouette silhouetted against the pitch-black waves crashing far below. The freezing spray from the sea mixed with the cold bite of the wind, the sharp scent of salt filling the air. With a flex of her arm, Vi tilted the advisor further over the railing, the only thing keeping the woman from falling being the unyielding grip on her throat.
Vi’s free hand moved sharply, her signs quick and cutting, You do not question. You advise.
The advisor’s panicked breaths turned into a strangled whimper as her fate became clear. Without hesitation, Vi released her grip, watching as the woman plummeted toward the churning waters. Her scream was brief, swallowed by the howling wind and the thunderous crash of waves against the ship’s hull. The splash echoed loudly, punctuating the moment with finality.
Vi turned back to the group, her expression as calm and unyielding as before. The faint glow of her scars lit her face, highlighting the intensity in her gaze as she raised her hands again. Remember your place, she signed with deliberate precision, the finality in her gestures leaving no room for misinterpretation.
She stepped back to Ambessa’s side without a sound, her movements smooth and purposeful. Her mechanical arm emitted a faint hum as she flexed her fingers, the act casual, as though tossing a woman overboard into freezing waters was nothing more than an extension of her duty.
Ambessa’s golden eyes flicked to Vi, lingering on her for a moment. A faint smile curved her lips—one of amusement, and of approval. She waved her hand at the remaining advisors, her voice calm but commanding. “Leave us,” she said simply.
The advisors needed no further encouragement. They bowed quickly, their faces pale, before retreating into the ship’s interior, their hurried steps echoing faintly as they vanished from view.
For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind and the creaking of the ship beneath them. Ambessa turned her gaze to the dark horizon, her expression unreadable as she clasped her hands behind her back. Finally, she spoke, her voice low, almost contemplative. “You handled that well.”
Vi glanced at her, her hands moving with quiet confidence, they forget too easily. I reminded them.
Ambessa chuckled softly, the sound rare and fleeting. “That you did.” She turned her gaze to Vi, her golden eyes warm despite the biting cold. “Loyalty like yours is rare, Violet. Never forget that you are more than a soldier to me.”
Vi tilted her head slightly, her black eyes softening. She signed back simply, I know Then, after a pause, she added, And I will always be by your side. Returning her attention to the horizon.
Ambessa nodded, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing her face before it vanished into her usual stoic expression.
Ambessa’s gaze remained on Vi, and lingered for a long moment, her eyes softening as the weight of her thoughts pressed down on her. The lines of the map etched into Vi’s back glowed faintly through the thick fabric of her cloak, pulsing gently with the shimmer coursing through her veins. The glow, so stark against the cold darkness of the night, was a constant reminder of what Ambessa had done—not just to Vi’s body, but to her life. The decision had been calculated, ruthless, and utterly necessary, or so she had told herself at the time. But now, as the icy wind tugged at the edges of their cloaks, she felt the weight of it in a way she rarely allowed herself to.
“Was it painful?” Ambessa asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant. She didn’t meet Vi’s gaze at first, her eyes instead flicking to the faint glow of the lines that made up the map—lines she had ordered to be carved into the younger woman’s flesh. The question wasn’t just about the physical pain, though that was part of it. It was about the choice she had made, the mark she had left, and the life she had claimed as her own.
Vi turned slowly, her movements deliberate, the moonlight catching on the faint shimmer that pulsed beneath her scars. The cold air bit at her exposed face, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she faced Ambessa fully, her expression calm but heavy with emotion. Her hands moved with precision, her glowing fingers signing words that carried far more weight than her silent gestures seemed capable of, I’m always in pain. But it was worth it.
The response struck Ambessa harder than she expected. Her chest tightened, the words settling in her heart like stones. For a woman who had built her life on command and control, this simple admission from Vi pierced through her in a way no battlefield loss or political maneuver ever could. Vi’s unwavering loyalty, her strength, her willingness to endure—it was all laid bare in that moment, and Ambessa could feel the depth of the bond between them more keenly than ever.
Ambessa exhaled slowly, her breath misting in the freezing air. The sharpness of the night seemed to fade for a moment, replaced by something softer, more intimate. Her voice, when it came, was quiet, carrying a weight she rarely allowed herself to express. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words heavy and unfamiliar on her tongue. She had wielded apologies sparingly in her life, viewing them as signs of weakness. But this wasn’t weakness—it was acknowledgment. It was an attempt to give back, even in a small way, to the woman who had everything from her by Ambessa’s own hand.
Ambessa removed one glove with slow precision, the cold biting at her bare fingers as she extended her hand. Her golden eyes locked onto Vi’s, searching—not for forgiveness, but for something she couldn’t quite name. The wind howled around them, tearing at their cloaks and whipping through their hair, yet the world seemed still in the shared silence. Finally, Ambessa’s hand found Vi’s cheek, her touch warm despite the chill in the air.
Vi leaned into the touch without hesitation, her scars glowing faintly in rhythm with the shimmer coursing through her veins. It had become second nature to her, this quiet exchange of trust and care. Her eyes softened, the harshness that often defined her gaze melting away as she tilted her head slightly into Ambessa’s palm.
Ambessa’s expression wavered, a rare vulnerability crossing her face as her thumb brushed lightly over Vi’s cheekbone. The act was unspoken, yet filled with meaning—a gesture of reassurance, gratitude, and perhaps regret for everything she had done to Vi. For a moment, Ambessa lingered, her hand steady against the younger woman’s face, as if trying to hold on to something fragile yet enduring.
When she finally pulled her hand away, it was slow, deliberate, as though she were reluctant to let go. Slowly she puts her glove back on.
The faint glow of the map on Vi’s back flickered beneath the fabric of her cloak, the lines still visible in the dim light. And as Ambessa’s gaze lingered there once more, she felt the full weight of what she had done—not as a general, but as a woman who had come to see Vi not as a weapon, but as someone she cared for deeply. family.
Ambessa inhaled deeply, the frigid air stinging her lungs as she calmed herself, her golden eyes narrowing briefly against the biting wind. The faint regret from moments before still lingered, but she smothered it beneath her usual steel resolve. She squared her shoulders, her towering frame cutting a stark figure against the backdrop of the restless sea. The waves crashed below, their thunderous rhythm underscoring her commanding presence.
“Come, Vi,” Ambessa said finally, her voice steadier now, with the sharp edge of authority returned. “We must prepare you for your task.”
Vi straightened at the words, her glowing black eyes widening slightly. Excitement flickered across her features, momentarily breaking through her practiced composure. This was the moment she had been waiting for—her first real mission, and one she would undertake alone. But alongside the thrill, she felt a flicker of apprehension, a quiet unease nestled beneath her eagerness. She didn’t allow it to show, though. Instead, she smiled faintly, a determined light glinting in her eyes as she fell into step beside Ambessa.
The two walked side by side through the icy night, their boots echoing softly against the wooden deck as they made their way toward Ambessa’s chambers overlooking the bow. The ship swayed slightly with the rhythm of the waves, but neither woman faltered. Vi glanced briefly at Ambessa as they walked, the general’s expression carved from stone, her sharp gaze fixed ahead. It was a face Vi had grown accustomed to—a face that gave her confidence, even as she felt the weight of the mission pressing on her shoulders.
The warm glow of the chamber’s lanterns greeted them as they stepped inside, the heavy door groaning softly as Ambessa closed it behind them. The air here was warmer, the scent of burning wood mingling with the faint tang of salt that lingered from the sea outside. The room was sparse yet commanding, its design a reflection of its occupant. A large table dominated the space, covered in maps, reports, and weapons, and a single chair sat by the hearth, its flames casting flickering shadows across the walls.
Ambessa moved with purpose, crossing the room to a polished armoire near the far wall. Her golden eyes scanned its contents before she reached in and pulled out a heavy black cloak, its thick fabric lined with fur to stave off the cold. She turned to Vi, the cloak draped over one arm, and held it out toward her.
Vi hesitated for a moment before signing a question with her free hand, the other brushing against the cloak already draped over her shoulders. Why?Her glowing fingers moved gracefully, and she followed the gesture by pointing to her current cloak with an expression of quiet confusion.
Ambessa’s brow arched slightly, her lips curving into a faint, amused smile. “Your glow,” she said, her tone sharp but tinged with warmth, as though the answer should have been obvious. “Though beautiful, it can’t be seen.”
The words settled over Vi, and understanding dawned across her features. She glanced down at her hand, at the faint shimmer pulsing beneath her skin, and her expression softened. She had grown so accustomed to the unnatural light of her body, so used to the ever-present glow of the shimmer within her veins, that she often forgot it was even there. Her hands moved again, this time slower, her expression sheepish. I forgot.
Ambessa’s eyes softened slightly at the admission. She stepped closer, the heavy black cloak still draped over her arm, and gently brushed a hand against Vi’s shoulder. “This task requires precision, Violet. Stealth. The light that gives you strength can also make you a target. I won’t have you jeopardized.”
Vi nodded, her earlier apprehension mingling with a growing sense of responsibility. She held out her arms, allowing Ambessa to fasten the cloak around her shoulders. The fabric was weighty, its fur-lined edges rough against her skin, but it felt protective—like a shield. Ambessa’s hands moved deftly, the clasp clicking into place as she adjusted the fit, her movements gentle.
“There,” Ambessa said, stepping back to appraise her work. “Now you’re ready to disappear into the shadows.”
Vi’s lips curved into a faint smile, her hands moving quickly in a confident response, Thanks to you.
Ambessa’s chest tightened at the words, and for a fleeting moment, her composure cracked. She rested a hand briefly on Vi’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly before letting her arm fall back to her side. “Don’t thank me yet,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. “Save it for when the mission is complete.”
Vi nodded once, the weight of her new cloak settling over her like the responsibility she now carried. She adjusted the hood, pulling it up to obscure her face, the edges of her glowing scars barely visible beneath the shadow it cast. She was ready—or at least, she told herself she was. Ambessa, for all her commanding presence, saw the flicker of doubt in Vi’s eyes, and it only deepened her resolve to protect the young woman she had come to see as her own.
“Come,” Ambessa said at last, her voice regaining its commanding edge. “The night awaits.” And with that, the two turned back toward the door, the cold air seeping into the chamber as it swung open.
Ambessa paused at the threshold of the chamber, her towering frame silhouetted against the moonlit deck. The wind howled like a distant battle cry, tugging at their cloaks as if urging them forward. For a moment, she lingered, her gaze slipping to Vi’s cloaked figure at her side. The young woman’s posture was straight, her glowing eyes steady beneath the hood, but Ambessa caught the faintest flicker of something unspoken in her expression—was it excitement? Apprehension?
“You are ready,” Ambessa said finally, her voice as steady as the frost-hardened steel of her ships. Yet, beneath her calm, her chest tightened with the weight of unacknowledged fears. She had shaped Vi into a force to be reckoned with, but tonight, she would send her into the storm alone. And for all her confidence in Vi’s abilities, the thought of losing her cut sharper than any blade.
As if sensing her hesitation, Vi turned, her glowing black eyes meeting Ambessa’s. Her hands emerged from beneath the heavy cloak, signing with deliberate grace, I will succeed. For you.
Ambessa felt the faintest pang in her chest, an ache she refused to name. “For yourself as well,” she said softly, her words nearly lost to the roar of the wind. But Vi only smiled, her faith in Ambessa and her own strength shining through her silence.
They stepped into the biting cold, the night swallowing them as the ship swayed gently beneath their feet. Ambessa kept her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the jagged peaks of the Freljord loomed like sentinels against the darkened sky. The storm was coming—not just in the air, but in the clash of wills that awaited at Delverhold.
Ambessa’s hand rested briefly on Vi’s shoulder, grounding them both. “Watch but do not engage. Remember what I’ve taught you,” she said, her tone carrying the weight of both a command and a plea. “This mission is yours, Violet. But know this: no matter the shadows, you do not stand alone.”
Vi nodded, her confidence unwavering as she pulled the hood lower over her face. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the darkness, her cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows. Ambessa watched her go, her heart heavier than she would ever admit.
The deck was quiet once more, save for the endless howl of the wind and the creak of the ship. Ambessa remained where she was, staring after Vi long after she had vanished. Her gloved fingers tightened at her sides, and she exhaled slowly, her breath curling into the frozen air.
“May the wolves guard you,” she murmured, her voice low and fierce, carried away on the icy breeze. And as the storm clouds gathered on the horizon, Ambessa turned back toward her fleet, her golden eyes glinting with unrelenting determination. Whatever lay ahead, she would be ready—for Vi, for her vengeance, and for the victory that would etch her name into history.