Of Silence and Scars, Chapters 11 and 12

I took a day off from writing yesterday, so I thought I would post a double today. Also the league site has my profile kind of bugged. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story! Please comment below on thoughts, positive or negative are both welcome!

XI Upon arrival to Noxus, a nervousness in the air punched through Draven’s weariness and drew his attention. Thoughts of a warm bed and food forgotten for now, he looked around at the shuffling and afraid masses. He gave Darius a signal to halt for a moment. Approaching a shop, he began to converse in low tones with the dark-cloaked and bent form behind the counter. Darius rubbed his eyes heavily as his brother returned and hit him on the chest with the day’s newspaper. “Read this.” Darius blinked several times to clear his blurred vision from the temptations of sleep. He scanned the grey paper until he saw what Draven wanted. A mystery at the Institute of war, a team preparing to load onto the Rift for a match disappeared. Last seen in their prep room, no one has since seen the Yordle team of Teemo, Rumble, Poppy, Tristana and Lulu. Any information should be brought to the attention of the League immediately. Darius mused the implications of the story. He didn’t think too highly of Yordles, but he wouldn’t discount them in a fight. Taking down all five and kidnapping them was a task of its own, but doing it without being seen in the brief window before loading on to the rift? Impossible. “That is concerning I suppose. If you are a Yordle.” “I don’t particularly care about the who so much as the what” Draven growled. “Anyone who would break into the Institute, which houses the best fighters and combatants in all of Valoran, is either insane or extremely powerful… or both. Takes guts though.” The tiredness returned in force and Darius just wanted to end the conversation and get to bed, “I’m sure the League will figure it out. I’m more concerned with passing out on a full stomach.” Draven chuckled, “Yea, I got my own things to do as well.” The odd behavior of his brother slipped past Darius because it wasn’t a hunk of meat or a bed. Daydreaming of the latter, he trudged home. Draven had a plan forming. He was not long for Noxus, Ionia awaited.

The next morning Darius awoke to the piercing squawk of a raven. His eyes remained glued shut. The piercing cry of the carrion bird sounded a second time, very close. His eyes slid open and he was looking into the six beady red eyes of what he recognized to be Swain’s personal raven, Khan. “The hell are you doing here Khan?”
The bird merely looked to the door and squawked once more. A sharp single knock rang through the morning air of the gloomy upstairs. Darius grunted and growled curses under his breath as he lifted his massive form to the cold floor. Couldn’t that man knock on the front door like a normal person? Walking into another man’s house uninvited was just creepy. Already fully armored, Darius crossed the room with heavy strides and cracked his neck loudly to shake the last bits of sleep from his bones. Sleeping in armor was bad for one’s posture, but great for their lifespan.
Opening the door to his private quarters, Khan flew past Darius’ head to perch on the shoulder of its master. Sporting his usual dark green robes with golden plates covering his vital areas, Swain greeted Darius, “Good morning. Sorry about barging in, but I don’t care to be seen outside for too long.” He strode in with his characteristic heavy limp and glanced around.
“How did you get in here sir?” Darius asked as politely as his sluggish morning-brain could muster.
“I have a key to everything that matters. Perks of the job. I like what you’ve done with the place” he commented as his fingers brushed dust from shelves. “Dank and abandoned attic has its charm.”
Darius rubbed his eye and went to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water. “It’s not an attic, it is a second floor. And I’m guessing you didn’t come to admire my décor. What do you require sir?”
“Information. I have questions that need answering and you are the only one with a chance of knowing them.”
“Shoot.”
“I received a visit from your brother early this morning. I was the first one in the Spire as usual, 4 am doesn’t appeal to a lot of people and I get work done in the silence. But Draven showed up not ten minutes after me.”
Darius stopped drying his face and looked quizzically at his superior. 
Swain leaned forward on his cane, “Listening now?”
“Continue sir. You have my attention.”
“Strange as that was, I debriefed him on your last assignment, then he volunteered for a job in Bilgewater. My sources say he arranged for a ship to Ionia for two days from now. What business does he have in Ionia? Why is he hiding it?”
Darius frowned slightly, “He is probably going to see Sona.” There was no point trying to lie to Swain at this point. He would keep an eye on Draven and see for himself. 
Swain’s eyes flared in surprise. He brought his hand to his mouth while he pondered this new development. “I hope the Ionians handle the situation well, because Draven isn’t known for being diplomatic, or cautious, or friendly… Ok he’s going to end up in jail.” He turned to Darius, “We shall see how this plays out.”
Darius nodded, “He’ll be ok.”
Swain gave Darius his tasks for the day and departed. Darius looked to the east and shook his head. His brother was passionate, but not extremely bright at times…

XII Draven howled into the sea as the wood creaked and waves slammed the hull of the Dead Pool. Ropes snapped taut as the beast thrashed violently under its restraints. Gangplank bellowed orders to his crew and they scattered to calm their prey. The massive great white shark lurched towards the ship and tried to dive, but was tangled in the overlapping ropes. The new snare made the creature more furious. Blinded by fury, its thrashing renewed, looping more ropes about its form. When the beast was as close to secure as they could get, Gangplank yelled at Draven, “Get yur sorry ass down there Noxian! Try not to drown! Hahahahaaaa!” Gangplank roared in half-crazed laughter as Draven’s smile grew even wider. He pulled the tranquilizer coated knife from its worn leather sheath at his belt. The rusty blade had been given to him by the pirate when he was briefed on the mission. Baring his teeth, he let out a fearsome cry and leapt from the safety of the ship into the fray below. Landing on the shark’s exposed underbelly he sank the knife deep into the writhing form, then leapt clear. The ropes shook as if alive as the behemoth gave everything it had left to catch the one who stabbed it. A stray rope hooked Draven’s boot and he tumbled into the water. Sunlight filtered through the light blue water realigning Draven’s sense of direction. He pulled towards the surface. Breaking into the world of air once more, Draven gasped for air. He began to swim towards a shelf of rock nearby in the water. The sound of snapping and shouting turned him. He saw the ropes slipping off the ship as they broke and the splashing of water as the shark sought its freedom. Only a few ropes held it away from Draven. He gave it all of his might to reach the rocks. Each pull frantic, his arms cranked away at the water. His mind went blank under the pressure of fear. All he felt was the exhausting burning in every muscle, protesting this new strain and begging him to stop. But he had a keen desire to stay alive. The final ropes gave, letting the shark flop less than gracefully back into the ocean. It took only a moment to recuperate before it shot like a bullet towards the assailant in the water. Draven felt the hard scraping of rock on his flailing arm and grunted as his arm slammed into the solid surface much harder than he intended. Bleeding, sore and angry, he pulled himself onto the rock shelf while pinning the wounded appendage to his chest. Blood crept down his frame, staining his chest piece. “Laundry’s gonna be fun!” He chuckled once before cringing at the pain it caused him and cursed under his ragged breath. He saw the tidal wave of rage coming towards him. Time seemed to slow. Anger grew within him. The great Draven, legend of Noxus turned to chum on a rock in the middle of nowhere. That was not how he would die! Fury completely masking the pain and weariness, Draven lurched to his feet and slid an ax from his back. Letting his bad arm hang limply at his side, Draven began to laugh, flashing his teeth as though they were fangs. The blade began to spin at the coaxing of the minute movements of his fingers. The shark was nearly at the rock now, not slowing down. The poison was creeping into its mind and dulling the senses. It had one thought left, kill the man on the rock and devour his bones! Draven’s laugh grew to a demented cackle as he charged towards the water, ax spinning furiously at his side. He drew back his arm and hurled the steel with all of his strength! The blade gouged deep into the head of the shark, then connected with bone to bounce high into the air. Draven leapt with his burning legs, pushing off the beast’s snout to catch his ax over its head and flip midair to throw again. The beast was out though. Poison and head injury had overloaded its senses and it lay limply on the cold stone, waves seeking to reclaim the body of the sea’s champion. Draven let out one last laugh that tapered off into an injured wheeze as he fell. He holstered the ax before the water slammed the last remaining air from his lungs. Blood trailed his sinking frame and sunlight softened through the water filter. Soft noises from the surface eased his pain, calming his mind. He had done it. He won. A tug on his collar alerted his groggy senses, but he did not possess the strength to resist as he was dragged through the water. Breaking the surface back into the world of noise, Draven coughed and took a desperate ragged breath. The air flowed into his lungs, rejuvenating him. The normally retched smell of salt and fish was never so welcome in the Noxian’s nostrils! He was dragged on board the Dead Pool coughing and hacking. Muttering oaths and curses to the sea, he spat water onto the deck. A couple of sailors wrapped him in a dry blanket and Gangplank slapped his back a little too hard, “You did it lad! No more ships will be sunk to that beasty! He will also make a fine trophy!” “Yea, woo and whatever.” Draven said sarcastically. “Just remember who did the work!” He then turned his attention to the water where his savior peered over the side of the ship. Her luminescent scales shining with the sunlight on her blue body. The mermaid smiled and winked at Draven, who wasn’t her least favorite partner in the Institute of War. “Thanks for the save Nami.” Draven smiled. Nami accepted the gratitude with a smile. “Try keeping it to land chief.” He laughed, “But then the ocean would get jealous of land hogging all the Draaaaven!” Nami rolled her eyes but didn’t break her smile. “I am starting to think I should’ve let you drown mister!” Draven turned to Gangplank as she left, “So our deal?” Gangplank nodded, “Aye. All hands, set sail for Ionia!” Draven’s smile widened, back on schedule at last.