Legends of Runeterra

Erath did not know the name of the village. He guessed it, like the rest of Ionia, was called some obscure, flowery name, a secret whisper to him that he could neither hear nor understand.

He'd assumed the rain would make their movements easier to conceal. Leaving Fae'lor, the group had discarded as much Noxian equipment as possible, to avoid detection of their mission by both the locals and the Empire, but they were still strangers in a strange land. As Erath walked along the village avenue with Teneff, he felt every eye on him, as if urging him to drop his disguise.

"Hold on," Tenev said. Her gruff voice evoked a calmness that Eras unconsciously tried to emulate. Neither of them was armed, but unarmed people were not uncommon in Navoli. Eras was beginning to realize that not all weapons were meant to be seen.

"Wait," Teneff whispered, and the two of them immediately hid behind the wall of a teahouse. A fight had broken out up ahead, and an old Ionian was surrounded by several warriors, their red armor threatening. A crowd of onlookers gathered immediately.

"What are they doing here?" Erath stared at the Noxian soldiers.

"We have an outpost not far to the south," Teneff said quietly. "It could be just a patrol, or it could be that they were attacked by the Brotherhood at night and are now out for revenge."

The two of them approached quietly, skirting the outer edge of the crowd as if passing by. Erath lowered his hood, his fingers fumbling with the bone pendant around his neck, then checking the dagger at his belt. They approached until they could hear the conversation clearly.

"I'm coming back from the festival fair," the old man was trying to explain, his mouth trembling in Varnoxian. "From Wai."

"Wai Li," the leading soldier repeated. "It's quite far." She looked at the paper bag in the old man's hand.

"Tea." The Ionian clutched the small paper package to his chest. "This is tea, a scented tea."

The soldiers' eyes began to fill with suspicion. "You went all the way to Waili just for a pack of tea?"

"I've heard of that festival," a Noxian said. "It's their Day of the Dead."

"To commemorate a hero?" The leading Noxian stepped closer. "A bit like that. Opening up old wounds can easily lead to foolish behavior."

"Like setting the wooden fence on fire last night," said another soldier.

"No," the Ionian said, the paper bag in his hand suddenly glowing with a faint blue light. Several Noxians immediately took up fighting stances, swords raised, facing the Ionian.

"It's magic," the leading soldier shouted, "It's a weapon!"

"No! This, this," the old man searched for the right word. "Ozali! Ozali, my... son. My wife is too old to walk. I brought him back so she can see him."

"Keep making it up," a Noxian shouted.

"Yeah, yeah, just like before," another soldier said viciously, his eyes reflecting the scars of hatred from his memory. "You all looked so friendly, but as soon as we turned our backs, you started chanting curses, and then it all collapsed! Boyud was burned alive by you, Eddie's legs were crippled, and my buddy Colen's heart turned to ash in his stomach! It's all your fault!"

"Something's going to happen," Erath whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"No." Teneff's tone remained ruthless and calm. "It's none of our business."

"Hand over your weapons." The leading Noxian roared, the axe handle in his hand creaking.

"Not a weapon," the old man pleaded, his eyes seeking help from the crowd around him, but everyone was too afraid of the Noxian soldiers' swords to step forward.

"Hurry," another soldier called out. She stepped forward and snatched the paper away. There was a brief struggle, and then Erath heard the sound of paper tearing.

The old Ionian cried out incoherently, his tears spilling onto the ground. He tried to salvage a handful, but the rain had already washed them away.

"Ozali..." The old man huddled together, kneeling on the ground, watching the tea leaves turn to mud. Raindrops hit the powdered tea leaves, each drop igniting a burst of blue light, then with each subsequent flash the fluorescence grew weaker and weaker, until it completely dissipated.

"If you dare to move," the leading soldier shouted to the crowd, and the other Noxians gathered and began to withdraw from the village step by step. "Just try and see if I dare to burn this place to ashes."

“Zili!” The old Ionian man turned his head and howled at the rain. “Zili!”

Erath felt someone grab his shoulder.

"Let's go," Teneff said, keeping her eyes on the group of soldiers as they left in the other direction.

“Have you seen those Ionians?” Erath said. “Our comrades will not leave this town alive.”

"It's none of our business," Teneff repeated. "You can wait until you're hungry before you start sympathizing with them, swordboy. Now we must hurry."

"What did he say?" Erath looked back, but continued to follow Teneff. "What did he mean by that word?"

"Zili," Teneff said, "is a dirty word they use for those of us from the 'Land of the Captives.' It means a plague of locusts."

Tifalenji was waiting for them outside the village, the Runesmith's longsword in her hand, the emerald veins on the blade glowing faintly.

"What happened just now?" she asked.

"An outpost near us was attacked last night," Tenev said. "Probably the Navoli Brotherhood. It looks like the outpost officer sent troops to patrol the route, or perhaps just to cause trouble for the locals."

The Runesmith thought for a moment, "Did anyone see you?"

"No," Teneff replied. "Judging from the atmosphere in the town, I think it would be wise not to linger any longer, let alone think about buying anything."

"That makes sense," Tifalenji nodded, "Let's go then."

Erath took the reins from the Runesmith, and Talz, the dragon-lizard that had served as the group's pack animal, was back under his charge. He stroked the beast's flank, glancing at Ariel and her wurmhound. The tracker looked a little haggard, but he knew better than to ask.

"Where's Marit?" Teneff asked.

"She said waiting was boring, so she set off first," said Tifalenji.