Month 7
I miss Stillwater. There, I said it. I could eat side by side within the shadows of my cell and allow my mind to melt away from isolation. But here, I'm constantly being sized up. Thanks to the noble name tied to my back, I'm a celebrity, a target. Ambessa and Julion drilled me nonstop. Student after student was thrown at me, chipping away at my life.
"Strength comes in many forms, Owen. Tell me, what is your strength?" or something to that effect. Ambessa's words swam in my head like the loose brain matter that might be the cause of my dizziness.
A solid kick to the neck fixed that, so it's fine now. 19 days of brutal fighting, learning the many ways of strength, and how much they hurt. Healing magic is the only magic Ambessa allows in her presence, even that is something that twists her face in a scowl.
"Surviving and thriving from your wounds is a strength that many lack." Given Ambessa's many battle scars, she was speaking from experience.
During the near endless sparring sessions, she would constantly compare me to her younger self. "At your age, I was slaying warriors twice my size."
That's when I took an elbow to the face. The thought of her killing anyone twice her size at 13 sounds ridiculous. But she's a giant, and I'm not. And as I pay back the elbow to the face with a knee to the liver, I refuse to press on how she managed. Finally, after being brutally introduced to a fraction of Noxus culture. Standing side by side with my grandmother, to behold Noxus in all its gothic glory. Layer by layer, black rings of thick walls encircle Noxus. Each circle looks to jut outward, casting an overhead shadow and blotting out the sun from its citizens. If these rings were worn on a finger, they would never come off. The jagged edge would eat within the flesh, scraping the bone. From the distance, it looks like the most depressing place to live. It makes Zaun look like a distant relative of depressing and bleak aesthetics. Every building is nearly jet black, only lightened due to age and weather wear. The outside district area is a bundle of small houses and makeshift sheds. They are clearly not official. Noxus made, maybe constructed by the hands of the extremely poor. Closer to the center, each layer is reinforced to make invasion nearly impossible. I try to imagine throwing everything I did in that future dream against the walls of Noxus. I'd run out of resources getting through the first two layers. Standing erect at the center is a fortress that pierces through the clouds above.
Ambessa looks over to me as we survey Noxus on the point of the docks. "To see Noxus for the first time as you do—that is one of many pleasures I long for. What do you see, child?"
My eyes take in everything, every angle. "Tall building to jump from."
She chuckles as she looks back to check on the preparations to dock. "I would advise against it. You will not survive our judges, not our enforcers."
I glance at her. "You mean, they hit harder than the students?"
She nods as she gestures a signal to the men on the docks. Much harder. They serve Noxus to their fullest ability, and Noxus does not tolerate childish displays of lunacy."
"What about professional displays of bravery?" I adjust the rags I'm given on my body, as I have not "earned" my place as a Noxian.
Ambessa looked at me and raised a brow, along with a challenging smirk. "Your bravery would be met with the equal respect of a swift death."
Releasing a sigh of disappointment, I tightened my belt. "What if someone scales the walls unnoticed? Someone must have done so before."
My insinuation triggered a memory of irritation in Ambessa before she mentally dismissed it. "They have, and met the aforementioned fate. Come along, your introduction to Noxus must be met with all due haste."
As I walk with her and the band of royal guards that follows us, I try to make sure I match her posture. It was difficult to do, as the welts, knots on my body, and bruised muscles kept me in the second most pain I've ever felt in my life. We docked on the outer edge of Noxus, close to the border of a sandy border. Upon looking over, it must be the neighboring region, Shurima. We walked, or marched, through what looks to me like a marketplace. They operate much like Zaun's marketplace. People of all walks of life gathered and traded goods and information. As soon as we approached, all made way for us or risked being trampled, and that was the light punishment. Ambessa walks forward with her eyes directed forward, focused, and blazing with purpose. Behind us marches the royal Noxus guard, dedicated to the Medarda house. In the center of the guards are the mages extracted from Stillwater, both the living and the dead. Princess...it was difficult to forget her, so difficult that I stopped trying. Dark mage or no.... I felt something for her, and that something is the guilt I carry for loving anyone else other than Powder. That's when the second heartache came. Powder, how long has it been since I've bothered to see her again? The dreams were too much, I've done my best to block myself from connecting with them. She's becoming more like Jinx by the day. Maybe it's inevitable, maybe she is doomed to become that psychotic, chaos-loving maniac. If so, I need to grow strong, and this place seems like the perfect nation to grow stronger. We continued marching, moving from district to district with sharp military, drill-like turns. If I didn't know any better, I would think that Ambessa is doing this on purpose. Finally, we approached an opening. It had only occurred to me that she led me to an arena. The guards spread around, encircling the arena with practiced, mechanic precision. The living mages are marched towards the center, joined by Ambessa and me.
She takes her time, walking from mage to mage. The look of disdain on her face was apparent. "You will be asked one simple question: Are you strong enough?" She stops in front of one mage on the far side. The mage gasped as a dagger was unsheathed, the edge pressed against their neck.
"Yes!" the word escapes their mouths as a choke to gasp at the air.
Ambessa snorted in skepticism, then moved to the next mage. As she did so, a Noxus guard approached the previous mage and carried them away.
The next mage, however, defiantly peered into their eyes with defiance. "I would rather DIE than to—"
Ambessa immediately grabbed their hair and dragged her dagger through her neck, as if she were cutting through a lump of meat, which technically, she was. The dagger's edge eats through the neck of the mage with minimal effort. Blood sprayed with audible force, the mage remained defiantly silent as they held her eye contact. Ambessa's bored expression remained strong as she decapitated the mage and flicked the mage's head to the floor. I stand in disbelief as she asks the same question to each mage. The only enjoyment she has is when asking the question of each mage. By the end, only two mages were dragged away alive. The mage's blood flows with the last remaining pulses of the dead bodies.
Ambessa turns to me, cleaning her blade, paying more attention to the act of doing so than the act of the executions she had just performed. "When was the first time you witnessed it, grandson?"
Forcibly shifting my gaze from the body to her eye, I easily remembered my first time witnessing death. "4, the gang that was looking after me beat another kid to death over something stupid."
Ambessa scoffs as she sheathes her blade. "Let me guess..." places her fists on her hips. "...They all beat them to death?"
The surrounding guards maintained their silent vigilance.
"Looking back, they could have gone one-on-one with the kid, but they aren't like..." nods at the guards.
Ambessa chuckles and approaches me. "You are right about that." She looms over me, taking a moment to look me down. "I must ask you, child, as I have to everyone else, are you strong enough?"
Without flinching, I answered. "Yes."
A dangerously proud smile spread across her mouth, and her hand slammed on my shoulder. "HA! Now everyone has the warrior in them, but you..." She released a loud whistle, and then from an angle I couldn't see, things that looked like dogs roared in delight as they ran in to maul the mage bodies. I was stunned in horror as the dark-scaled, reptilian-like dogs, which look about 100 pounds heavier than myself, fought over the bodies. They ripped the corpses apart and ran off with them. Each hound carries a full limb off, while two hounds carry a torso off together. "...show more promise than most your age." The lingering hounds that didn't get anything licked the blood off the floor before they rushed off to join the pack. Their seemingly indestructible nails increased their speed as they turned into blurs down the aisles.
"Okay, I have to ask...what the hell were those?" I asked as I fought the urge to tremble.
"A new record..." Her expression shifts from intrigue to irritation. "...someone must have skipped feeding my hounds..."
"Wouldn't be surprised if they eat because they're bored." I crossed my arms.
She nods, confirming my suspicion. "They do, it's in their blood. Now, since you are here, we must find you a suitable challenge."
Raises a brow. "Your students weren't enough?"
She waves forward. "Nowhere close." A young, barely dressed warrior approaches us. "This is your opponent, Pika, a gladiator." Two soldiers carry in a carpet. Upon rolling the carpet, weapons are displayed. They are small in length, forcing close combat. The gladiator chose the mace. Ambessa turns to me. "Well, boy? You need a weapon? Or will you remain with your fists?"
Given that I was gifted with 19 days of nonstop fighting, I cracked my knuckles. "Fists for me." Fully prepared to show off what a Zaunite can do.
Ambessa almost appeared impressed. She directed us to the center of the arena. "Impressive."
That's it? As I circled the slightly armored gladiator and threw my rags off, I criticized her in my head. Of course she would be just impressed, bloodthirsty monster. Would have put more effort into my mental insults if the guy hadn't lunged at me with his slow-moving mace. Experiencing the various styles on the ship made the gladiator easier to read. I slipped the downward swing, jabbed the ribs, tackled his torso under his pit, then tripped him on his face. Victory would have been mine if he hadn't been a gladiator and scrambled to his feet. Being the persistent pursuer that I am, my knee met his face as soon as he turned his face to me, sending us to the floor. The mace clanged across the floor as I mounted and pounded his face. At this point, the daily pains of combat begin to catch up to me. However, my desire to prove myself to everyone here was overwhelming my sanity. My vision was filled with flailing hands and arms. This guy's weakness was that he relied too heavily on being a weapons expert. The panicked shifting, bucking, and flailing began to die down after every bone-fracturing punch. It's almost disappointing in a sense. But, in a strange way, I'm beginning to understand this place. Everyone here is strong, in some aspect. Their posture, their build—none of the Noxus citizens are weak. No visible illnesses or disabilities were shown, without the means to weaponize them. Missing limbs, weaponized appendages. Terminal illnesses and specialized armor to turn the sickness into a weapon. Lost senses were replaced while still strengthening other senses. Noxus is where the strong gather, and only the strong matter. Before I knew it, I had done it again. The gladiator doesn't have a head anymore.
Standing up, I shook the brain matter and bones from my fists. "Sorry about that, I got carried away."
Ambessa allowed a flash of disgust to wash across her face before allowing her pride to return. "I hope you won't make a habit of staining your new clothes." Approaching me, she clothed him in new robes.
"Hard not to, when you deliberately put nice robes on me." They were red and convenient. "Thanks."
Her laugh rings across the arena. "You have your father's wit for humor!" She embraces me with her massive hand. "Come, I will tell you more about your late father."
Exactly what I had in mind. Instead of the royal guard leading the way, Ambessa led beside me. I'm assuming it's a confidence and a pride thing. Showing me off to everyone has to be somewhat sentimental as well. My late father—so my mother was right, he is dead. As we march towards a massive grand mansion, it rings hollow. It was five Piltover mansions put together. We climbed the steps, and a few guards took up post outside. This is my family's home, a place where I belong, but the welcome is incomplete. Ambessa pushed open the doors of our massive manor.
"Welcome to Medarda Manor." Ambessa gestured with the enthusiasm of rehearsed grandeur.
It differed greatly from Kiramman's interior. It has the grand impression of wealth, rare materials make up the structures that support the trophies on the shelves and walls. The grand halls host servants dressed for war and guards dressed for a last stand. Ambessa personally gave me a tour of the estate. Every room was fashioned in some way as a war room. Weapons are holstered on the walls for use, not ceremonious at all. They were separate, however. One side looks to be Noxus-made, crude, and ugly, but functionally practical. The other side seems foreign, aesthetically pleasing to the eye, and a bit too distracting for the eyes.
"Trophies of the clan." Ambessa walks up to the wall of foreign weapons. "One day, you will have the pleasure of mounting weapons of your fallen enemies."
Standing beside her, I look over the weapons in detail. "I'd rather make my own, these are a bit too pretty."
A smirk spread on one side of her mouth. "Quite the independent tone you have. That direction will serve Noxus well." She takes a Noxus sword from the wall and places the blade to my neck. "You've proven yourself a decent warrior, but as a general of Noxus, I must ask you, are you loyal to Noxus?"
Despite the edge of the blade pressing into my neck, I answered without flinching. "I am, but I'm getting the feeling that I've done this before. Why ask the same question twice?"
For the first time, Ambessa gave me the look she gives her enemies, the cold stare of malice. "You are a clever and special boy, Owen. Do. NOT. Play coy with me." Realization washes over me. Does she know? My fear was realized when she nodded, perfectly reading my expression. "I have been plagued with dreams of a grand war, unlike anything I've seen. And standing over me, the one who felled me in battle, was you." Her face softened somewhat, an expression close to pride giving her inner peace. "Kino has gifted me a wolf with crooked teeth."
Fighting my self-conscious urge to check my teeth, I commented on it instead. "You know, I've been told that before. It was rude then, as it is now."
She couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah, ah, ah." She pats the flat of the blade on my shoulder three times. "I am wise to your disarming use of humor."
I snap my fingers. "Damnit."
She pressed the blade against my neck again. "You are the destined commander of Zaun," she announces as if we're in the middle of a ceremony.
Her announcement of the title ignited something in me. I wanted to confirm it with all my might, but that's Future Owen's influence, and I won't allow him to conquer me. "No! That future ended everything and everyone I knew! That can't happen!"
A look that might have passed for remorse washes across her stern face. "Which is why, it's with a heavy heart, that you must die."
My jaw dropped. "What? But...after all this time...why?"
She maintains her stern expression and somehow becomes more stern by the second. "Although you are my grandson, you wield power that is clearly out of your control. The days we spent together and the challenges were all a means to prove that my grandson has the heart of a warrior. Now please, die with that warrior heart."
Time slowed, and our locked eyes never faltered. And for a brief moment, the pressure of the blade weakened, a hesitation within the arm of a warlord who has slaughtered countless lives. Her life flashed through my mind. Made to gather swords from the still warm hands of fallen soldiers, one gold coin per sword. She was only a child, 10 years old. Standing among them, I watch as young Ambessa runs from corpse to corpse. The swords were strapped to her back and her hips, and she was carrying them in her arms. Standing beyond her is a tall man, of the same build as her current structure. A mountain of muscle, a veteran in warfare and constant hardship.
Young Ambessa froze in place as we locked eyes again. "You!" instantly recognizing me, she dropped her swords and equipped herself with the dual blades of the fallen soldiers.
The soul connection held strong, so I took advantage. "How about a fair fight? At least now it's fair."
My poke at her pride worked, as she looked at her hands and then tossed me a sword. "The gap in years, however..." It's the first time I hear uncertainty in her voice as she takes a few practice swings and tests her mobility.
Catching the sword in my hands, I can instantly tell that I'm outmatched. "You have decades under your belt, while I'm still just a kid from the streets." While I spoke, I tried to mimic her warm-ups, proving my point that I don't know how to hold a sword. "If you ask me, that makes us even."
Ambessa finished warming up and gave me a dark smirk before approaching. "An astute observation."
Before she began gaining momentum, I charged forward, with what little experience I have in 19 days of sparring. Noxus warriors don't have one unified method of fighting, it's diverse. Styles from across Runeterra gathered to gain strength in Noxus. It's a shame I won't be able to gain much experience the old-fashioned way. Instead, I got a firsthand lesson in what 40 years of military experience feels like. Even as a child, Ambessa is formidable. Every skullduggery tactic I pulled was instantly countered with swift retribution. Every snide remark or comment meant to throw her off was met with a strike to my mouth. Eventually, I learned to shut up and fight even harder as a scoundrel. Against a warrior like her, I'm not ashamed of it. But what I'm more ashamed of is how soundly I'm being dismantled. She wasn't lying, she had destroyed people bigger than her when growing up. Every personal lesson she learned while being the runt of the litter was felt in every cut of the blade and pummeling of the handle. When I wiped the blood from my face, I was then given the lessons she learned when she was the biggest on the battlefield. As each of her strikes weakened me, I began to doubt my heritage. Where is my giant DNA? My knees crashed to the ground, and I was shocked to see the amount of that that is most definitely mine. Didn't know my soul self could bleed this much.
Once again, Ambessa's blade met my neck. "You last longer than any warrior I've ever fought. However, I speculate that in this realm, you can afford to be...inexperienced."
I kept my head down, I could hear the smug look on her face. "One of the many perks of the soul." As I spoke, more blood spilled from my mouth. My eyes glazed over my body, too many cuts to count. I should be dead by now.
Ambessa pushed me back by using her foot, which gave me the momentum needed to strike upwards. With the remaining strength I have left, I pulled upwards, seeking one final moment to pull out on time. But Ambessa has seen it all, and my sword went flying, along with my hand. "I acknowledge your strength." She brought the blade down on my face.
I fell back in my own body, sliding across the floor, my face ignited in pain. Grabbing at my face would just be another layer of distraction. I pushed myself across the floor and into the hall. Ambessa followed me like death personified. She didn't speak as she walked confidently after my skittering form. Blood stained the halls and walls as I grabbed at every convenient weapon to defend myself. Maids and butlers were motionless once they heard the commotion. The guards stood ready for orders when our spectacle drew near them. All understood on lessons that need not to be taught twice: stay out of Medarda's affairs. By the end of my scrambling for dear life, I collapsed onto the floor. My breaths came in ragged and short, my face now numb and raw from bleeding. The blood stuck to my face, already crusted over. My arms are raw, swollen, and heavier than lead, as Ambessa has deflected and disarmed me multiple times. The legs have kept me at arm's length from her callous wrath.
Ambessa stood over me, legs on each side, crushing my arms under her immense weight. "What a fight for someone of your age. Whatever manner of magic you used on me, well..." she thinks back to that moment, having the chance to see her grandfather again. "...we won't repeat the past."
I chuckled. "So, I have no future?"
She shakes her head. "I'm afraid not, grandson."
Upon hearing that, I closed my eyes. I didn't question further why she was okay with killing her own blood. I now wait for the end. 13 years is all I could do. Sorry everyone, I failed again. The killing blow didn't come, I passed out from the blood loss shortly after. My blood father is dead, I never got the chance to see him. I've had many foster parents, adults who have unofficially taken me under their wing. Silco raised me as an adversary, a snake patiently waiting to swipe at the street rat. The many former gang leaders who taught me the truths of the only world they knew. Then, there is Vander, the man I've grown to know as my father. It's been a good life...if the end was anywhere near. Having been dead before gave me insight, so I should know. No sea of eternity, no other metaphysical plane of existence. It feels as if my spirit is stubbornly holding onto this body. A body that refuses to be...special. And as soon as I think that, I find myself on Powder's lap, her pale finger flicking my nose. Looking up at her, that face of hers, slightly older from what I remember. A faint glow in her eyes...that damn Shimmer.
"Powder..." my voice came out weak and soft-spoken, this is unlike me at all. "...your skin..."
She flicks my nose again, a smirk playing on her face. "Owen...your nose..." she mimics my deep voice. "Seriously, you have to learn to lighten up." She looks down at me, her long braided hair mixed with her clumsily cut bob. "Nice scar." Her finger runs along my face in a diagonal line, from the top left of my face, across my nose, to the bottom right of my jawline. "Healed like shit, by the way."
My eyes struggled for focus, my anger was pacified and docile, but my spirit remained unspoiled. "Jinx...stay away from Powder. She doesn't need you influencing her."
Jinx chuckled coldly, but there was a nostalgic playfulness behind her dismissive tone. "Same goes to you, Owen." She grips my jaw and burns her gaze through me, making my hairs stand on end. "Stay away from my Owen, go back to your dead future that YOU earned."
"What?" is all I said. My world flipped upside down. That can't be right. How could Future Owen be influencing me at all? There was that one and only one time, helping me against my rematch with Scar. That's it, but...what if... Future Owen is too intelligent to be discovered? What if he's just that manipulative? I'd hate to admit it, but... I've gotten quite low over the years. When I think back on my usual daily operations, I find myself being too much like Silco. That bastard inadvertently taught me everything I know about how to play people to meet my own ends. How to hijack others' efforts to fuel my own ambitions. It was for Zaun, it's always been for Zaun.
Jinx returned to caressing my face. "Ahhh, there it is. This is why you never stopped buying me drinks." She pokes my nose condescendingly. "I'm always right."
Slapping her hand away from my face, I sat up, and she met me in the motion of standing to our feet. Our eyes held all the while, knowing exactly what we've always done in these tense moments. When we finally stood to our full heights, I stood a head taller, but that didn't stop her from staring me down.
I smirked. "Your confidence needs a bigger body." I raised my hand to her chin, her brow raised as I slowly turned her head, and gave her the slow kiss on her cheek that I've promised to give her every day.
Her pale cheek grew red with a blush, but she defiantly maintained her tough façade. "You think that changed anything between us?"
Raise a brow while running my thumb over her blushing cheek. "So, you don't deny your confidence outgrew your scrawny body?"
Jinx's magenta eyes flared dangerously before calming down. "You're one to talk, GRANDSON!"
I awoke in a start. Pretty-looking blankets cover my body. My face is covered in a bandage. Some sort of ointment makes my face feel greasy, the odor smells like medicine too—disgusting. The room looks like pompous royalty, but with the steel teeth of constant warfare. Everything is cloaked in material that's more expensive than any district in Zaun. It's dark outside now, perfect for slipping into the night. But given that there's a pacing warlord in my room, I'm pretty sure I won't be going anywhere anytime soon.
Ambessa turns to me as soon as I push myself up. "You've weakened me, boy!" She marches over to my side. The act would have scared me shitless, but seeing her lose herself made her seem more human than the unstoppable force earlier. Looming over me, she hesitates, unsure of what to do. "You...you're just like your father, Kino, and your aunt Mel..." She caresses my face, and I'd be a fool to pull away, so I allowed her. "...but unlike your father, you have a warrior's heart...you made me weak..."
I followed her hand with the one eye that's still exposed. "That's funny, you didn't feel weak at all. So I'm guessing you mean mercy? Since my head's not on the wall over there." I looked at the wall full of trophies.
Ambessa's lips struggled to form the words she wanted, which was strange. All this time, she was as flawless with her words as she was in physical combat. There has to be something deeper here. "Mercy...no...it's something more...."
"That man in your soul, who was he?" I asked as I relaxed back against the pillow.
"Menelik Medarda, your great-grandfather." Fondness fills her eyes as she reminisces. "He was...a good man."
I allowed the silence to build before speaking. "For a warlord, you mean. Leaving behind that many bodies doesn't exactly qualify anyone as a 'good' person."
That brought a smirk back to her face. "You're quite right." She pats my chest. "Commander Owen."
I fiercely shook my head and immediately regretted it, as it ignited my wound in pain. "I have no army, I don't want an army, I—"
"Oh?" she interrupts me, assuming control over the conversation. "From the intelligence that I've gathered, you've assembled quite the standing army in Zaun."
Realization dawned on me, she's a general of Noxus, and an intelligent one at that. Of course she would send spies to every realm she's interested in. "Kinda forgot about that."
A flash of confusion twisted her face before enlightenment relaxed it. "I suppose I would be startled into forgetfulness too, if I were given a grand vision of conquest."
I chuckled. "You call that conquest? All Future Owen did was trigger a world war."
Ambessa focused on that key phrase, 'Future Owen.' "Are you implying that your vision self is a separate entity?"
"Worse than that." I nod. "It feels like he's inevitable. Every decision I made feels as if I'm becoming him, but sooner."
"Hmmmm." She hums, silently mulling over a strategy to overcome fate. "The Medarda are no strangers to visions and prophecies."
A flicker of hope sparked within me. "So, you can help me?"
She sits up straight. "You've survived my onslaught within my own soul, as well as in the waking world. You've more than earned your place in the Medarda House. And yes, I will do everything within my power to avoid that unfortunate ending of my life."
"Thank you...grandmother." Ambessa, for the first time, glowed with not only pride on her face but also with maternal affection. "My father..." The question weighed heavy on my mind. "What was he like?"