The Report
Chapter 7: The Report
The sun hung high, casting its pale light across the snow-draped peaks, as the icy winds of the Freljord howled through the mountains, carrying with them whispers of battles unseen. Vi moved like a shadow through the blinding white, her dark cloak blending seamlessly with the harsh landscape, concealing the faint shimmer of her veins and the quiet hum of her hextech arm. Every step she took down the jagged cliffs of Ironspike Mountain was precise, effortless, her body moving with the confidence of someone who had conquered both terrain and foe.
The climb down had been as smooth as her ascent, her steps leaving barely a trace in the frost. Only the faintest remnants of her battle remained—perhaps a patch of disturbed snow, a scattering of blood already hardened to ice, or the quiet absence of the warriors who had crossed her path. But the storm had erased much, its relentless fury scouring the landscape clean. By now, she mused, the snow would have swallowed any sign of what had transpired.
When the massive silhouette of Ambessa’s flagship came into view, its iron hull a stark contrast against the pale expanse of the mountains, Vi felt a sense of ease settle over her. The climb, the fight, the tension of her mission—all of it faded into the background as she approached the ship that symbolized her purpose. As she stepped aboard, the low, steady hum of the flagship’s engines resonated through her boots, grounding her like a familiar heartbeat. She was back—back to where she belonged.
Vi’s lips curved into a rare, warm smile as she let her gaze sweep over the ship’s iron decks, the sight of it filling her with a quiet satisfaction. Here, the biting cold felt less sharp, the weight of her mission lighter, as if this place—this home—absorbed it all. She adjusted her cloak, its edges still dusted with snow, and allowed herself a brief moment of relief. Her mission was complete, and she had returned to the one place that mattered. To Ambessa. To the only place she truly belonged.
Vi scanned the deck, her sharp black eyes locking onto the nearest soldier standing at attention near the ship’s railing. The man’s posture straightened as she approached, not out of fear but out of respect. There was no hesitation in his salute, his movement crisp and deliberate. The other soldiers nearby glanced her way, their gazes steady and unguarded, carrying none of the wariness they might have once shown. Vi wasn’t just a weapon to them anymore—she was Ambessa’s Hand, a title that carried weight far beyond her deeds.
Vi nodded once, her expression calm but firm, and raised her hands to sign with deliberate precision: Where is the General? Her glowing scars pulsed faintly beneath her skin, the shimmer catching the soldier’s eye momentarily, though it didn’t faze him. If anything, there was a faint flicker of pride in his expression.
“In the war room,” he replied, his voice steady and clear.
Vi acknowledged him with another nod, her gaze unwavering. There was no need for pleasantries; her presence alone was enough to communicate authority and belonging. She turned and moved across the deck with quiet confidence, her heavy boots striking a steady rhythm against the iron beneath her. The hum of the ship’s engines pulsed beneath her feet, a constant reminder of the power that carried Ambessa’s fleet through the icy expanse of the Freljord.
As she walked, more soldiers caught sight of her. Their reactions were uniform—respectful salutes, nods of acknowledgment, no hesitation or uncertainty in their eyes. Vi wasn’t just another figure aboard the ship. She was one of them, part of the family Ambessa had forged through loyalty and strength. And Vi, in turn, carried herself as someone who knew exactly where she belonged.
The heavy door to the war room groaned softly as Vi pushed it open, the warmth of the chamber spilling out to greet her. Inside, the faint crackle of the hearthfire softened the sharpness of the metallic interior. The room was lit with a mixture of firelight and the cold glow of hextech lanterns, casting flickering shadows across the walls and illuminating the large map table at its center. Ambessa stood at the table, her golden eyes locked on the intricate lines and notes scrawled across the maps spread before her. Even in stillness, her presence was commanding, her every movement deliberate, her sharp features bathed in the warm light.
Vi closed the door behind her, the sound low and final. Ambessa didn’t look up immediately, but there was no need. Vi could feel the invisible tether between them, an unspoken understanding that didn’t require acknowledgment. Ambessa’s voice broke the silence, calm and steady, yet tinged with a faint warmth that only Vi might have noticed.
“You’re back,” she said simply, her gaze remaining on the map for a moment longer before she finally looked up.
Vi stepped forward, the faint shimmer of her scars catching the light as she shrugged off her heavy cloak. It fell to the floor in a soft heap, revealing the sleeveless black outfit beneath. The fabric clung to her frame, streaked with dried blood and dirt from the battle she had left behind. Her mechanical arm hummed faintly as she reached into her belt pouch, retrieving a carefully folded piece of parchment. Without a word, she crossed the room and placed it on the table with deliberate precision, her glowing eyes meeting Ambessa’s as she did.
Ambessa’s gaze shifted to the parchment, her sharp eyes scanning the hand-drawn map with meticulous focus. Every detail was there: the crumbling eastern wall, the narrow pass beneath the southern edge, the staggered patrol shifts, the weak links in the fortress’s defenses. Vi had captured it all, her observations rendered with the precision of a tactician.
A faint smile curved Ambessa’s lips as she studied the map, the approval in her expression unmistakable. “Well done, Violet,” she murmured, her tone carrying a warmth that cut through the usual edge of her words.
Vi said nothing, but her glowing black eyes held Ambessa’s gaze. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension of the mission fading in the presence of the woman who had shaped her into what she was. Ambessa’s smile lingered as she stepped closer, her golden eyes softening as they took in Vi’s battle-worn appearance.
Without hesitation or pretense, Ambessa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from Vi’s face with a tenderness that felt as natural as breathing. There was no façade in her gesture, no need for calculated displays of affection. When Ambessa called Vi her daughter, she had made it clear—there was no room for doubt in her actions or her words.
“You’ve exceeded my expectations, as always,” Ambessa said softly, her voice low but carrying the weight of genuine pride. Her hand lingered for a moment before falling away.
Vi didn’t need more than that. The approval in Ambessa’s words, the subtle gesture of care—these were the things she had fought for, the purpose that drove her. She stood straighter, her glowing eyes flicking to the map as she prepared for what came next. Whatever Ambessa asked of her, she was ready. She always would be.
Ambessa took a step back, her sharp eyes scanning Vi from head to toe. The torn fabric of Vi’s sleeveless outfit revealed scars both new and old, the faint shimmer beneath her skin pulsing unevenly. Blood stains marked the black material, and though Vi’s wounds had healed, the evidence of her battle was impossible to ignore. Ambessa’s jaw tightened as she folded her arms, her imposing presence dominating the room. “What happened?” she demanded, her voice calm but laced with an unmistakable edge. “I told you to observe, not engage.”
Vi tilted her head, her glowing black eyes narrowing slightly as she worked her jaw, testing her muscles. The tension in her posture mirrored the storm outside. She lifted her hands, signing with deliberate precision. There was a warband. Freljordians. Six men and their leader. I couldn’t risk them compromising the mission. I took care of it.
Ambessa’s lips thinned, her expression hardening as she absorbed the information. But then, Vi’s hands moved again, slower this time, her gaze sharp and thoughtful. The leader… I couldn’t kill him. The admission was cold, factual, but there was a flicker of something beneath it—frustration, perhaps even intrigue. I’ve fought a lot of men, Ambessa. None like him. He didn’t die, no matter how hard I hit. He just… kept getting back up. Like me.
Ambessa’s golden eyes darkened, a flicker of concern crossing her face before her usual mask of control returned. “You were reckless,” she said, her voice low but cutting, each word carefully measured. Her hands moved to grip the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening as her anger simmered beneath the surface. “You disobeyed my orders. I told you to watch and learn, not make yourself a target.”
Vi’s muscles tensed as she clenched her fists, her glowing scars pulsing faintly as her frustration rose to match Ambessa’s. She signed sharply, her gestures quick and precise. It wasn’t reckless. It was necessary. I couldn’t leave them out there to cause problems later. No surprises.
Ambessa’s gaze sharpened as she straightened, her imposing frame towering over Vi. “Necessary?” she repeated, her tone dripping with cold fury. “You made that decision without knowing what they were capable of. You could have died, Violet.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word, the uncharacteristic crack betraying the deeper fear beneath her anger. “Do you understand that? If you had fallen, everything—everything—would have unraveled.”
Vi stepped forward, her glowing eyes blazing as she raised her hands again, her movements defiant. I don’t die, Ambessa. You made sure of that. I live in the pain—I thrive in it. You trained me for this.
Ambessa’s fists slammed onto the table, the impact rattling the maps and scattering loose papers. “And if something stronger had been waiting for you?” she demanded, her voice rising. “If this leader—this man—had been more than you could handle? What then? Do you think I can afford to lose you? Do you think I want to bury another—” She cut herself off, her voice faltering as she turned away sharply, one hand braced against the table, the other clenched at her side.
Vi’s jaw tightened as she watched Ambessa, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Her frustration simmered beneath the surface, sharp and unyielding. Stepping forward, she reached out, her fingers brushing against Ambessa’s arm—firm but not forceful, demanding her attention. Ambessa’s eyes flicked toward her, and Vi’s hands moved swiftly, her gestures sharp and precise, cutting through the tension like a blade.
He didn’t kill me. No one can, she signed, her movements controlled but brimming with emotion. I did my job. The warband is gone. The mission is secure. He’s not my problem anymore.
Her glowing black eyes burned with conviction as she held Ambessa’s gaze, her touch lingering for a moment longer before falling away. The weight of her defiance hung in the air, challenging and unshakable.
Ambessa turned back to her, golden eyes blazing. “Not your problem? Violet, if this man is anything like you—if he can survive what no one else can—you’ve made him myproblem.” She took a step closer, her voice low and trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation. “You’re not invincible, no matter how much you want to believe it.”
Vi’s expression hardened, though a flicker of uncertainty passed through her glowing eyes. She tilted her head, her smirk faint but bitter as she signed, Then maybe I didn’t deserve to come back.
Ambessa froze, her breath catching in her throat. The words hit like a blade to the chest, and for a moment, her composure cracked. “Don’t you ever say that again,” she said, her voice trembling. She stepped closer, her towering frame casting a shadow over Vi. Her hand rose, hesitated, then settled on Vi’s mechanical arm, the warmth of her touch contrasting with the cold steel. “You deserve to come back. Always. Do you understand me?”
Vi’s jaw clenched, her glowing black eyes locking onto Ambessa’s. Her pride wouldn’t let her fully relent, but the faint nod she gave spoke volumes. She raised her hands, signing slowly. I came back because I wanted to. I didn’t fail you, Ambessa. I won’t.
Ambessa exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. Her hand lingered on Vi’s arm before she stepped back, her gaze softening though her voice remained firm. “You’re my daughter,” she said quietly, the words carrying an undeniable weight. “And I won’t lose you—not to him, not to anyone.”
Vi said nothing, but the faint flicker in her glowing eyes betrayed her understanding. For all her defiance, for all her belief in her own indestructibility, Ambessa’s words resonated. She nodded again, slower this time, her expression unreadable as she watched Ambessa turn her attention back to the map. The tension between them lingered, heavy and unspoken, but the storm was beginning to pass.
Without turning to face Vi, Ambessa’s voice cut through the tense air, her tone measured but sharp. “What did this leader look like?”
Vi huffed softly, the sound almost dismissive as she worked her jaw in silence. She didn’t answer right away, instead moving around the table with grace, her steps muffled by the thick rugs covering the floor. The soft hum of her hextech arm was the only sound as she came to stand across from Ambessa, her glowing black eyes sharp and unflinching.
Slowly, she raised her hands, signing with deliberate precision. Massive man. Wolf pelts. Two axes, scarred all over. Blue eyes, bright like the ice in the Freljord. Didn’t stop smiling, even when I broke him.
Ambessa’s brows furrowed deeply, the tension in her jaw visible as she processed Vi’s description. Her golden eyes darkened with recognition, her fingers curling against the edge of the table. For a moment, she said nothing, but her silence was more telling than any words. Then, with a sharp inhale, she moved to the far end of the table, her heavy boots echoing in the quiet room.
From a pile of maps and dossiers, she pulled a weathered piece of parchment, its edges curled and torn by time. She unfolded it swiftly, the faint rustle of paper breaking the stillness, and returned to Vi, thrusting the image toward her. The drawing was rough but unmistakable—a towering figure draped in furs, his wild beard and piercing eyes rendered with stark detail. The twin axes at his sides and the faint etching of runes on their blades left no room for doubt.
Ambessa’s voice was sharper now, cutting through the air like a blade. “Was it him?”
Vi’s gaze dropped to the parchment, her jaw tightening slightly as she studied the image. After a moment, she nodded, her glowing scars pulsing faintly as she lifted her hands to sign. That’s him. I would’ve killed him if I had the time.
Ambessa’s frustration flared visibly, her golden eyes narrowing as she slammed the parchment onto the table, her movements more forceful than usual. “Do you understand who this man is? What clan he is with?” Her voice rose slightly, the edge of her anger untempered now. She leaned forward, her hands braced against the table as she stared Vi down.
Vi tilted her head, her expression unreadable as she worked her jaw again, her muscles shifting beneath the faint shimmer of her scars. She didn’t respond immediately, letting Ambessa’s frustration hang heavy in the air between them. Finally, she raised her hands, her signing slower this time, almost defiantly. Does it matter? He’s just another man. And he couldn’t kill me.
Ambessa’s teeth clenched, her composure slipping as her anger deepened. “He is not ‘just another man,’ Violet,” she snapped, her voice colder now. “That was no common warlord or raider. That man is Olaf, of the Winter’s Claw. Do you even know what that means?”
Vi’s glowing black eyes flicked up to meet Ambessa’s, her expression hardening. Her hands moved again, quick and deliberate. No. Should I?
Ambessa’s knuckles whitened against the table, her frustration mingling with an undercurrent of something deeper—fear, perhaps, though she would never name it. “The Winter’s Claw doesn’t stop. They don’t break. And Olaf—” She paused, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Olaf doesn’t die. He wants to, but no one’s ever been able to grant him that.”
Vi’s smirk returned, faint but laced with defiance. She signed simply, I noticed.
Ambessa’s hand slammed against the table, the sound reverberating through the room. “This isn’t a game, Violet!” she barked, her voice echoing with the force of her anger. “You faced one of the most dangerous warriors in the Freljord and walked away, and you think that’s enough? Do you have any idea what he’ll do now that he’s survived you?”
Vi’s smirk faltered slightly, but her gaze remained steady. She worked her jaw one last time before lifting her hands to respond, I completed the mission. Delverhold is vulnerable. That’s what matters.
Ambessa’s golden eyes softened just enough for Vi to notice, though her voice stayed firm. “You don’t understand yet,” she said, quieter now but no less intense. “Men like Olaf are more than warriors. They’re forces of nature. You may think you won, but leaving him alive wasn’t victory. It was survival.”
The tension between them crackled like static, the storm outside mirroring the clash of wills inside the war room. Vi stood tall, her glowing eyes locked onto Ambessa’s, but for all her defiance, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze—a faint crack in her unshakable confidence. She didn’t sign again, her hands falling to her sides as Ambessa stepped back, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
Ambessa began to pace, her boots striking the floor with sharp, deliberate steps. The sound echoed through the room, a steady drumbeat to her mounting frustration. Her hands moved as she spoke, one gesturing toward the map on the table while the other brushed over her armored chest as if to contain the growing fire within her.
“The Winter’s Claw,” she started, her golden eyes narrowing, “is not just another Freljordian warband. They are brutal, relentless, and united under one leader—Sejuani. She is more than a chieftain; she’s a force of nature, wielding the strength of the Freljord itself. A Warmother who has carved her dominance across these frozen lands, rallying warriors under her banner with promises of survival and strength. Her warriors follow her with a loyalty that borders on fanaticism.”
Ambessa stopped abruptly, her fingers tapping against the edge of the table as her gaze sharpened. “And then there’s the beast you encountered. The man you couldn’t kill.” Her voice hardened, every syllable slicing through the air like a blade. “Olaf. A berserker of legend, one who fights not for victory, but for death. He seeks it like a wolf hunts prey, but no battle has ever granted him the glory he craves. He lives for the chaos, revels in it, and if you think his strength was impressive last night, you’ve only seen a fraction of what he is capable of.”
She turned, her movements deliberate as she walked to a nearby shelf lined with scrolls and sketches. Pulling one out, she unfurled it with a snap, revealing a hand-drawn map of the Freljord. Her finger traced a jagged line through the northern territories, stopping at a mark labeled Winter’s Claw territory. “If Sejuani gets involved, everything changes. She doesn’t simply fight battles; she wages war on a scale that rivals empires. Her warriors are hardened by the ice and the blood of their enemies. And if she learns of Darius’s vulnerabilities, if she believes there is any gain to be had in his downfall…” Ambessa’s voice trailed off, but the weight of her unspoken words lingered in the air.
She glanced back at Vi, her sharp features tight with controlled anger. “If the Winter’s Claw enters this conflict, we lose. There will be no vengeance. No justice. Only chaos. Their warpath would shatter any plan, turning our precise strategy into meaningless dust scattered by the wind.”
Ambessa resumed pacing, her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke, her voice steady but seething with an undercurrent of urgency. “I cannot have them interfering. Not now. Not when we are so close to tearing Darius’s foundation apart. Sejuani and her warriors would turn this mission into a battlefield we cannot win. And Olaf…” She stopped again, staring at the map as if it might provide answers. “He’s a storm unto himself. Wherever he goes, ruin follows. If he joins Sejuani against us, it won’t just be Darius we’ll have to contend with—it’ll be the Freljord itself.”
Vi stood silently, her glowing black eyes fixed on Ambessa as she worked her jaw in small, deliberate motions. The faintest flicker of light danced across her scars as she listened, taking in every word without flinching. The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of Ambessa’s warnings. But Vi remained still, her expression unreadable as her mentor’s frustration filled the space like a storm waiting to break.
Ambessa turned back to her, the fire in her golden eyes burning brighter. “You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed, Violet. This was reckless. If we draw the Winter’s Claw into this, I won’t just lose my vengeance—I could lose everything.” Her voice softened slightly, but the edge remained. “And I cannot afford to lose you.”
For a moment, the two women stood in silence, the storm outside a distant echo to the storm within the room. Ambessa’s jaw tightened as she held Vi’s gaze, the weight of her words pressing down like the icy winds of the Freljord.
Vi pushed herself off the wall, the faint shimmer beneath her scars catching the warm light of the war room’s hearthfire. Her movements were measured, deliberate, as she stepped closer to Ambessa. She paused for a moment, watching the tension in her mentor’s frame before raising her hands to sign, I’m sorry.
The words hung heavy in the air as she reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Ambessa’s arm. It was a rare, unguarded gesture, and for a brief moment, Ambessa’s hardened gaze softened. Vi’s hands moved again, quick and fluid, her expression resolute. We’ll have vengeance. We don’t need the fortress. We only need Darius.
She stepped around Ambessa, her boots silent against the floor as she moved to the table. Picking up her meticulously crafted report, Vi turned back and handed it over with steady hands. Ambessa took it without a word, her golden eyes scanning the map and notes with sharp precision. The room fell silent except for the crackle of the fire and the faint rustle of the parchment as Ambessa read.
Her lips curved into a small, dangerous smile, a glint of triumph igniting in her eyes as she traced her finger along the section of the map highlighting the fortress’s vulnerabilities. “Darius’s forces are weaker than I thought,” she said, her voice low but laced with satisfaction. Her finger lingered over a crumbling section of the wall Vi had noted in her report. “They’re starving, fatigued, their morale crumbling. And Boram Darkwill’s refusal to send reinforcements has left them completely exposed.”
She looked up, her gaze flickering to Vi, then back to the map as her mind worked swiftly. Ambessa’s hand moved from the wall to the section detailing the fortress’s supply lines—or lack thereof. Her smile widened, sharp and predatory, as a plan began to crystallize.
“We’ll give them what they’re desperate for,” she said, her voice gaining strength, her tone sharp with intent. “Reinforcements. Disguised as the help their emperor denied them.”
Vi tilted her head slightly, her glowing black eyes narrowing as she watched Ambessa pace slowly around the table. She could see the shift in her mentor’s demeanor, the way the anger had transformed into cold calculation, each movement deliberate, each word precise.
“We’ll infiltrate the fortress under the guise of a relief force,” Ambessa continued, her pacing slowing as she gestured to the sections of the map detailing the fortress’s weak points. “Food, supplies, and soldiers to bolster their failing ranks. Darius will be so focused on securing what he believes to be salvation that he won’t see the trap until it’s too late.”
Ambessa stopped suddenly, her gaze locking on Vi with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the air. “Once we’re inside, we’ll strike where it hurts most. Darius will be blindsided, and by the time he realizes his mistake, it’ll already be too late. The fortress will crumble from within, and he’ll be left with nothing.”
The faintest flicker of a smile tugged at Vi’s lips as she watched Ambessa’s plan take shape. But Ambessa wasn’t finished. Her sharp gaze moving between Vi and the map as if calculating every possible outcome.
“We’ll be gone before Winter’s Claw even has a chance to interfere,” she added, her voice firm with finality. The storm brewing in her eyes had given way to a chilling resolve. “And Darius will fall—not because he underestimated me, but because I outmaneuvered him at every turn.”
Vi nodded once, her mechanical fingers flexing subtly as she felt the weight of the plan settling over her. This was the vengeance Ambessa had dreamed of, the precision strike that would leave Darius with nothing but regret. And Vi would be the blade that made it happen.
Ambessa’s eyes locked onto Vi, her expression resolute and unyielding. “Once we’re inside, I’ll challenge him. Darius is a fool who loves single combat—he won’t be able to resist.”
Vi’s expression faltered, the change subtle but undeniable. Something flickered in her glowing black eyes—discomfort, unease. The idea of Ambessa facing Darius alone unsettled her. For all her faith in Ambessa, for all the strength and discipline she had witnessed time and again, Vi couldn’t ignore the weight of Darius’s reputation. He wasn’t just another enemy; he was a Noxian general, a symbol of brutal efficiency, a man forged in blood and conquest. His strength and skill matched his arrogance, and he was infamous for his victories on the battlefield.
Ambessa’s sharp gaze didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped away from the map, the faint glow of the hearthfire illuminating her imposing figure. With deliberate calm, she closed the distance between them, her golden eyes softening as she placed a firm, reassuring hand on Vi’s shoulder.
“You don’t need to worry, Violet,” she said softly, her voice steady but carrying the unshakable authority of a seasoned leader. “I’ve waited years for this moment. He took my son, and I will take everything from him. This isn’t just vengeance—it’s justice.”
Vi’s jaw tensed, the discomfort in her expression deepening. Her hands twitched slightly at her sides, as if struggling to form a reply. Ambessa’s grip on her shoulder tightened just enough to ground her, to steady the doubt she could see threatening to surface.
“He’s strong,” Ambessa continued, her tone calm but with an edge of steel. “I won’t deny that. But he’s not me.” Her golden eyes burned with conviction, a fire that refused to be extinguished. “Strength alone doesn’t win battles, Violet. He’s blinded by pride, by the belief that his brute force is unmatched. But I’ve outlasted men like him before, and I’ll do it again.”
Ambessa inched closer, her presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. “You’ve seen what I’m capable of. I didn’t just survive the Empire’s strongest—I thrived. And this time, I’ll end him. Not just for Kino, but for Noxus, for everything he’s stolen.”
Vi exhaled slowly, her glowing eyes dropping for the briefest moment before meeting Ambessa’s again. Though she didn’t sign a word, her gaze held a mixture of respect, worry, and something deeper—faith. Faith in Ambessa’s strength, in her ability to carry out what she had waited so long to do. But the flicker of doubt remained, buried beneath layers of loyalty and purpose.
Ambessa’s lips curled into a faint, almost tender smile. “You’re my daughter, Violet. I’ve trained you to be strong, to be precise, to be unstoppable. Trust that I’ve done the same for myself. This is my fight, and I will win it.” Her hand dropped from Vi’s shoulder, her sharp gaze lingering for a moment longer before she turned back to the map, her mind already moving to the next step of the plan.
Vi remained silent, her glowing scars pulsing faintly as the weight of Ambessa’s words settled over her. For now, she would trust in her mother’s resolve, even as the unease gnawed quietly at the edges of her thoughts.
Ambessa traced the crumbling wall on the map with her finger, her golden eyes gleaming with determination. After a moment of silence, she straightened and turned back to Vi, her commanding presence filling the room. “We move at daybreak,” she said decisively. “But first, preparations must be made. You’ll send an envoy to the fortress—one man, nothing more. He’ll carry a forged letter, written in Darkwill’s hand, offering the relief Darius has been begging for.”
Vi tilted her head, absorbing the order, her glowing black eyes narrowing slightly. She stepped closer to the table, her fingers brushing the edge of the map as if committing it to memory.
Ambessa continued, her tone sharp but steady. “The letter will speak of Emperor Darkwill’s ‘change of heart’—a tactical ploy to show mercy to a loyal servant. Supplies will follow in the morning, it will say. Just enough to ease their desperation and buy us entry into the fortress. By the time Darius realizes it’s a trap, it will already be too late.”
The general’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Vi, her voice losing some of its edge. “See to it personally, Violet. Ensure the letter is delivered exactly as planned, and then rest. You’ve done well, but tomorrow, we’ll need all your strength.”
Vi’s nod was short, sharp, a silent conclusion to the tension that lingered in the room. Without another glance, she bent down, scooping up her dark cloak from where it had fallen. The fabric was cold against her fingertips, its weight familiar as she swept it around her shoulders with practiced ease.
She turned and strode toward the heavy door, her steps deliberate and steady. The faint warmth of the war room vanished the moment the door groaned shut behind her. The frigid air of the deck hit her like a wall, the wind cutting across her face with ruthless precision. Snow flurries spiraled through the air, catching in the soft glow of lanterns strung along the ship’s edge. The howl of the wind drowned out everything else—the faint creak of the hull, the rhythmic hum of engines—as Vi walked forward, her cloak billowing like a shadow against the pale light of the frost-covered deck.
The Iron Revenant groaned faintly beneath her boots as Vi strode across the deck, her glowing scars concealed beneath the heavy fabric of her cloak. The soldiers around her worked in disciplined silence, the hum of the ship’s engines a steady undertone to the storm’s howl. They glanced at her as she passed, not with fear but with respect.
Vi found the communications officer near the center mast, his sharp eyes scanning a clipboard as he oversaw the midday shift. The man stiffened slightly when he noticed her approach but quickly saluted, his fist thudding against his chest in a gesture of respect. Vi nodded for him to stand at ease, her mechanical arm moving fluidly as she signed her instructions.
An envoy, she signed, her movements sharp and deliberate. One man. A letter from the emperor.
The officer’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion but nodded nonetheless. He didn’t question her—no one on the ship questioned Vi’s orders anymore. “It will be done, ma’am,” he said crisply, his voice steady despite the storm.
Vi nodded in acknowledgment and moved on, making her way to the small office just below the bridge. She worked swiftly, drafting the letter herself with meticulous care. Every word was chosen to mimic Darkwill’s tone, every detail designed to sell the lie. When she finished, she sealed the letter with wax, pressing the Noxian insignia ring Ambessa had provided into the hot seal. The letter was perfect. It would buy them entry—and it would buy Darius his doom.
Satisfied, Vi handed the letter to the chosen envoy, a young but competent soldier whose calm demeanor suited the task. She watched as he saluted sharply and descended the gangplank, his silhouette soon swallowed by the swirling snowstorm as he made his way toward Delverhold.
Her task complete, Vi turned and made her way toward the ship’s lower quarters. The sound of the storm faded slightly as she descended the narrow metal staircase, the ship’s interior warm in comparison to the icy winds above. Her room was tucked just beneath Ambessa’s quarters, a modest but functional space with a single window overlooking the water below. The glow of the ship’s lanterns filtered faintly through the frosted glass, casting dim, shifting patterns of light across the walls.
Vi shrugged off her cloak, hanging it on the back of the door before stepping further into the room. The faint hum of the ship’s engines was soothing, a low vibration that settled in her chest as she moved. Her gaze lingered on the window for a moment, watching the faint flickers of light from the distant fortress as the storm continued to rage.
She rolled her shoulders, working the stiffness from her muscles, and exhaled slowly. Her mechanical arm flexed once, the faint hum of its inner workings blending with the ship’s steady rhythm. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and allowed herself a rare moment of stillness.
Tomorrow would bring chaos, blood, and vengeance. But for now, she was home, beneath the watchful presence of the woman who had given her purpose.
The gemstone suddenly pulsed, flaring violently with an electric-blue light that flooded the room. Vi froze, her body tense as arcs of lightning shot outward from the gemstone embedded in her hextech arm. One jagged bolt struck her jaw from below, illuminating her face with an eerie glow. For a fleeting moment, the inside of her mouth was visible, revealing the haunting emptiness where her tongue should have been.
The pain hit her like a tidal wave, sharp and searing, forcing a ragged gasp from her throat. Her hands flew to her face, clutching it tightly as she staggered backward. Another surge of energy coursed through her, and her veins, once laced with the dark shimmer Ambessa had cultivated, began to change. A single blue vein erupted along her neck and snaked up to her left eye. The once steady black glow of her iris shattered into a storm—a living tempest of blue lightning roiling against a black backdrop. The light crackled and danced, uncontrolled and feral, her entire body trembling as the flare reached its peak.
The air crackled with electricity, and the room filled with the sharp scent of ozone. Outside, Ambessa, still in the war room, turned sharply at the sound of a deafening crack. A bolt of lightning exploded from Vi’s gemstone, tearing through the bulkhead and narrowly missing her. She ducked instinctively, the jagged arc striking the wall behind her and leaving a charred scar in the iron. The ship groaned as its engines powered down once more, their hum replaced by an unsettling silence.
Ambessa’s golden eyes darted toward the source of the chaos, her jaw tightening as realization sank in. This was no accident. No malfunction. This was deliberate. The gemstone’s erratic behavior, the unrelenting surges—it was all too specific, too calculated. Someone—or something—was after Vi.
“Violet!” Ambessa barked, her tone a rare blend of worry and command as she moved toward the door. She had seen Vi endure every imaginable pain without so much as flinching, but now… now she was worried. The fear tightened her chest, but she forced herself to focus. Whatever this was, she would stop it. And she would destroy whoever dared to target her daughter.
Ambessa stormed down the narrow corridor toward Vi’s chambers, her boots striking the iron floor with a force that echoed like thunder. The sharp tang of ozone still hung in the air, and the faint crackle of dissipating energy prickled at her skin. When she reached the door, she didn’t knock. There was no time. She shoved against the reinforced metal, the hinges groaning in protest before the door slammed open, nearly ripping off its frame.
The sight that greeted her sent a stab of fear lancing through her chest. Vi was on the floor, her body trembling violently, her hands gripping her face as though trying to hold it together. Blue lightning still danced faintly along the edges of the gemstone embedded in her hextech arm, pulsing like a living thing. Ambessa’s sharp eyes immediately locked onto the changes in Vi’s appearance. The single, glowing blue vein that crawled up her neck to her left eye stood out starkly against her already scarred skin. And that eye—Ambessa’s breath caught. It was no longer the steady black-and-shimmer glow she had come to know. Instead, it roiled with chaotic blue energy, a storm contained within its depths, flashing and flickering as though alive.
Vi couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. The world had narrowed to a blinding blue light, every nerve in her body screaming as if fire had been poured through her veins. Her left eye burned, the storm inside it raging out of control, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she would come apart entirely
Vi let out a strangled groan, her body jerking as the gemstone flared again. Another pulse of lightning arced out, striking the walls with deafening cracks. The iron groaned under the strain, black scorch marks spreading like spiderwebs across the surface. Ambessa didn’t flinch as the bolts sizzled dangerously close to her. Her focus was entirely on Vi, who was losing the battle to control the unrelenting power surging through her.
Without any further hesitation, Ambessa crossed the room in swift, determined strides. The air around Vi was electric, each step sending a sharp jolt through Ambessa’s body, but she didn’t care. Her daughter was all that mattered. Reaching Vi, she dropped to her knees and grabbed her, pulling the trembling young woman into her arms. The gemstone reacted immediately, sending another jolt of energy through Ambessa, the sharp pain searing through her nerves. But she didn’t let go. Her strong arms cradled Vi, holding her close despite the crackling energy that threatened to push her away.
“It’s all right,” Ambessa murmured, her voice low and steady, though her heart raced. She tightened her grip, her hand brushing against the side of Vi’s face. She could feel the heat radiating from the gemstone, the energy sparking erratically, but her hold didn’t waver. “I’ve got you, Violet. I’m here.”
Vi’s body convulsed in her arms, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as another wave of lightning surged outward. The arcs of energy struck the walls like whips of molten lightning, their jagged light searing afterimages into Ambessa’s vision. Her arms burned where the energy bit into her armor, a sharp, buzzing heat that felt like needles buried beneath her skin. Yet she held Vi tighter, shielding her trembling form as the storm raging within her daughter fought for release. Each pulse seemed to lessen in intensity, the chaotic energy beginning to wane. Slowly, painfully, the gemstone’s light dimmed, the arcs of lightning sputtering into nothingness. The room fell eerily silent, the only sound the faint hum as the ship’s engines sputtered back to life.
Ambessa glanced around briefly, taking in the damage. The walls were charred, the air thick with the acrid smell of burned metal, but the ship itself was still intact. Her gaze returned to Vi, who had gone limp in her arms. The storm had passed, but its toll was obvious. Vi’s face was pale, her glowing black eye half-lidded, her breathing shallow. The faint blue vein on her neck still pulsed faintly, a reminder of what had just occurred.Ambessa’s gaze lingered on Vi’s eye—once black and steady, now a roiling tempest of blue lightning. The storm had passed, but its mark remained, etched into Vi’s flesh like a warning.
Ambessa gently brushed a strand of hair from Vi’s face, her eyes softening with vulnerability. She could feel her own body trembling slightly from the ordeal, but she ignored it. For a moment, she simply sat there on the floor, holding Vi in her lap as though her presence alone could protect her from whatever forces were at play.
“You’re strong,” Ambessa whispered, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of the engines. She exhaled slowly, her jaw tightening as she looked down at her unconscious daughter. Whoever was behind this attack—whatever force was targeting Vi—they would pay dearly for daring to harm her.