Of Silence and Scars, Chapter 25

Alright, Spoilers. Draven is in this chapter. I know, shocking. You were warned O_O. On a more serious note, thank you all for reading and sorry for my crumby sense of humor the world has to deal with ;). Actually, fun fact of the day: As of this chapter my word-document for this story is 71 pages long. So to anyone who read up to this point, good job! That's 37000 words!

XXV The doors to the Spire conference room flew open as Draven marched into the dank room. Swain glanced up from the map he was looming over, seeing Darius close the doors. Draven hissed at the master tactician, “Lissandra took the Ionian and Shuriman teams. Sona is gone Swain! We should have moved much sooner! As soon as you knew who it was we should have marched on the Freljord in force.” Swain rebutted, “And leave or doors wide open for a Demacian invasion? I had to see what they are doing.” Draven was livid, “Who cares about the bloody Demacians? They should be on our side seeing as how their team was captured anyway!” “But they don’t know what we know about the situation, they don’t know where to strike or how this is happening. Their communications network is in complete disarray.” “Then why haven’t we informed them? I know the Demacians are repulsive, weak idiots who love saying their cities name as much as they love spouting pompous rhetoric at everyone they have ever met, but they would side with us on this. They are missing some of their best soldiers to this threat and Demacians stick together. They would march with us Swain.” “Or they would think we are lying and do nothing. These things need to be fed discretely if at all. Send a bit here and a bit there, and the spies will pick up the pieces and form the picture for themselves. Then we watch the reaction and plan from there.” “That will take too long! We need to move now! You are a coward, too afraid of what Demacia will do that you won’t see reason.” Draven turned towards the door and marched to it, stopping one step from leaving. He looked over his shoulder and fixed the Master Tactician with a hard stare, “Historians, politicians, generals, it doesn’t matter Swain. People will look back to this moment, this instant, and they will debate on whether or not we should have acted. They will wonder and imagine what we could have done. But when the smoke clears, all that will remain is what you did. The will and courage to act is easily forgotten in the now, but shines brightest in hindsight and all of the debate and skepticism fades as they come to terms with the consequences of hesitation in that desperate moment. In that realization they will respect and fear your decisive action when there was no sure way to win. There was no good option. Everything is spinning and shitty and we just have to fight to end it or die with no regrets! Will you really count on others to do what you lack the strength to do? Goodbye Jericho. I will do this myself.” A long silence hung over the conference room as the door clanged shut behind the glorious executioner. Swain mulled over what had been said for a couple long moments. Darius huffed after a while, “Well, he’s a dick who probably just ripped off that speech from some book or another, but he has a point. The time for plans is over. What are we going to do sir?” Swain sighed and walked over to the miniature bar in the room, making a disgusting looking concoction out of a black elixir and a greenish sludge. Mixing slowly by sloshing the contents around in a glass, he said, “I will contact Demacia telling them everything we know. I will muster all the troops I can to attack Lissandra’s force in the Freljord. This will take time however. I need you to keep an eye on Draven, make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish.” Darius smiled, “I will watch him. But I can’t stop him from being an idiot. Sona’s captured and if Draven doesn’t have the patience to wait for a sandwich without berating the deli guy I doubt he will sit and twiddle his thumbs now. If he leaves, I am going with. I made a promise to Sona that I would keep him safe.” Swain looked at him for a moment, then agreed. “Fine. Do not get yourselves killed however.” Darius turned to leave and Swain called after him, “How much does this girl really mean to Draven?” Darius paused, “Everything.” “And how much does he mean to you?” Darius remained silent. Swain took a couple steps towards him, “Draven does not acknowledge the fact that anyone captured may already be dead. Steel your mind Darius, do not be so blinded by rage and revenge that you throw your lives away in the trials ahead. Remember that.” Darius nodded, disturbed to his very core. He set out to find Draven.

Draven paced up and down his room, flipping a chair over in his rage. He spotted the desk full of letters from Sona and it struck deep at his heart. He couldn’t protect her. Packing his gear and shoving it violently into a travel pack, he swore to break Lissandra’s entire army alone if he had to. He tried to come up with some way to rally help. But he had no friends that would be willing to die for him! How to get help. He pounded his head trying to think of a way when Khan, Swain’s personal raven landed on his window sill as if summoned. Draven opened the window and took the piece of paper wrapped around Khan’s leg. It was a picture of Pentakill with writing on the back…
"We will be on the Ragged Cliffs in two days’ time. Meet us there. In the meantime gather what help you can for Sona. Begin with Pentakill, rally the Shadow Isles through her ties. See if you can convince Sejuani to join up as well. Using what forces you can muster, try to break the Siege on Ashe’s tribe. That should lead you close to the Ragged Cliffs around the two day mark and we will move from there. Don’t get yourself killed.

-Swain P.S. Call me Jericho again and my ravens will feast on your carcass."

Draven smiled and got to work writing a letter to Karthus, which he attached to Khan and sent the bird off. A knock came at his door. He stepped out to meet Darius. “What do you want?”
Darius chuckled, “Your hospitality is fantastic by the way. And I recruited some help for your suicide mission.” He gestured down the stairs at the small company standing in his foyer. Katarina, Talon and Sion waited. 
Katarina smirked, “Nice place dray-dray. Why don’t you ever invite me over?”

Sion was tinkering with a small table by the door and got a splinter. The table never stood a chance. Smashing noises and splintered wood flew around the room as Draven turned to his brother, “I can’t tell if you are trying to help or trying to get me killed. Either way, you really suck at this.” Darius chuckled and descended the stairs, “You’re welcome.”