Pale Fruits, Dark Shadows (Part 1; Chronicles of Valoran VI)
The red and black skirts roar and flicker everywhere, the Noxus banners high in the salon. From the raised stairs, sitting at the tables, the high Noxian nobility banishes with any kind of Runeterra dish; Noxus's middle class is masked. The youth argue animally in the corridors, young ladies wear a traditional make-up.
No member of the Noxian bourgeoisie would ever miss the Iron Ball.
I tied my hair in the most refined way possible, the crimson gloves and the iron bodice testify my social status. The Ball, in itself, is nothing special, nothing comparable to what usually happens in the subterranean city when the youth wants to entertain themselves. When the boredom becomes unbearable, I approach with a quick step towards the East Salons.
Everyone knows what can be found there, everyone pretends not to see.
I go down the stairs, and God knows just how difficult is it with these traditional studded stilts. I start seeing the first Lossen. They call them so, "Lossen", those fallen into the spiral of exotic drugs. The gaze lost in space, the dilated pupils, the vaguely veiled blue iris...
I am superior, addiction can not have me.
A stranger, with green tattoos on his face, is sitting on the sidelines. He has what I'm looking for. I don't even have to say a word, he knows what I want.
He takes me by the hand, we go to the private parlor.
A bit of fruit from the Shadow Islands, and the evening will take another bend..
At the first bite the reality begins to fade, my eyes veil of a negligible blue. The senses amplify, the gaze lies on the slightest details. His eyes are completely blue: He doesn't have pupils, but I'm sure he's looking at me.
I climb up the stairs to another room. The salon is empty, the music of the party begins to seem so far from me... I sit, my head is heavy. The Stranger has followed me, the green tattoos shine of a strange light.
From the sofa I look at him, and I begin to loosen my corset.. My quick fingers on the buckles are soon reached by his ones.
_Reality blurs in a blue smoke. _
I'm a whale. I'm pregnant. The child is keen, he's very aggressive. I've been locked in these rooms for months now... If somebody knew I am pregnant, my family's honor would be spoiled; Close to me, there's a tray of pale fruits. No, they haven't been sold by the green-tatooed foreigner: he disappeared; I suppose my family has claimed the blood.
A weeping cuts the night. A child is born.
"This creature is horrible ... looks at the color of skin, hair, teeth ..." "Oh, she's a female" "It's not a female, it's a monster."
The mother is dead. Two fingers lower her eyelids on blue eyes, blue iris...
_"Kill That Child, You Serve" _
Quick steps on the nightclub, holding a tight bundle. The piomers' route is not the safest, but the fastest. Hot sparks fall from everywhere, but it's not a problem ... Even if the baby is burnt, well, it would not be a big deal, maybe it would make her pretty. Noxus does not have orphanages, no one's children are marginalized. Perhaps, however, Ambassadors of War will grow her with the children of the nobles and the merchants.
A bundle, the baby, is left on the black marble stairs.
The palace is ancient, war pictures and terrifying statues can be seen from the parapets. A card between the bands. In italics, in high class writing:
"Evelynn".
