Once an honored man full of dignity, Pierre Laurent was now kneeling in dust, his back strained below

the weight of disdain. Disdain of his own society, disdain of his own blood. The tip of a thin blade
pressed against his neck, brown curly hair falling into his eyes, so humilating.
I have come to kill you for the sake of honor. And though you possess none, you will die just the
same. Words pronounced so distinctly, so uninterestedly, as if they weren't coming from mouth of his
youngest daughter, made him break sweat of fear. He was awaiting his fall, punishment for his sins.
Sardonic smirk rose on his lips. Wasn't it ironical that his only daughter, a duelist prodigy, the one
whom he loved and put hopes into, also became his executioner?
Bravo. You've defeated me. he said and looked her into eyes. Will she be able to just ruthlessly kill
him, her own father who taught her everything? She returned the icy glance and moved lips in
soundless question. Why father, why did you betray everything we stood for? Why did you bring
dishonor upon the house Laurent? Why?
He shook his head slightly, so only she could see this movement. Pressure on his neck hardedned,
causing one single drip of blood to come out. Then it lowered as the victor of the duel raised her sword
and accosted the whole arena.
By this day, I take over the house Laurent! I shall restore its former glory! She stopped her speech
just to take a breath, then continued, pointing her sword at the broken man at her feet.
This man mired our family name, commiting acts of dishonor! He doesn't deserve honourable death
by blade, he shall rot in prison. Pierre had to smile bitterly again. Despite being deeply ashamed, he
felt proud. He knew that the family crest he has ruined will be in good hands.
Looking at her father, his famous sword lying in dust, his clothes dirty, his eyes exhausted, filled young
woman with emotion she wasn't able to describe. Was it pity? Regret? Sorrow? No, she shouldn't pity
him. He shattered everything he, they, stood for, ruining whole family name by commiting such a
dreadful thing. When she has first heard about it, she couldn't believe. She almost attacked the officer
who came to tell her the truth, but evidence was bulletproof. Poison. Her father, the former best duelist
in all demacia. was poisoning his opponents to win effortlessly.
Listening to seagulls' cries, mild breeze was playing with her short brown hair. Fiora tucked one defian
lock back behind ear and enjoyed the warm summer afternoon. It was months after she defeated her
father and took over the house, months after she was forced to join the League to save the family honor,
months of defeating anyone who dared to oppose her, one duel after another. Moments she could have
to herself were precious.
Miss Fiora? Voice from behind interrupted her thoughts. Who dared to call her by her first name? Her
fingers immediately gripping the hilt of her sword. Too many enemies, too many people who didn't
consider honor as the most important value, were walking on those grounds. They probably wouldn't
warn her before attack, as she realized moments later, but she didn't let go of the hilt. The assumed
attacker was a young boy, about 8 years old. He was clenching a pen and a paper. A champion card.
Miss Fiora, please, c-could you? sttutered the boy, extending his arm. Although he was just a peasant,
she crouched down and signed the card. The boy beamed
I will be like you one day! He declared, still grinning.
You have to train a lot and don't forget... Her lips curved up to something that could be considered a
heart warming smile, weren't for the cold eyes above.
Strike quickly!
Strike deftly. She completed. Only if he knew what it meant to bore the sword..
Now go, train. Maybe one day we will face each other. She said as he was leaving.
Wow, you do have a heart after all. Another voice, now a familiar one.
Your majesty. The bow was completely formal, perfect, according to the etiquette.
Why are you being so formal? Miss Fiora? The spike of anger didn't show on her face, it remained
perfectly still as expected from an aristocrat.

Could I be of any service, Your majesty? She was a Laurent, one of the 3 most influental families
(despite her father's attempt to ruin it all), but he was a Lightshield. A prince. A monarch. Now wearing
casual white shirt and jeans, so she almost didn't recognize him.
Yes, you indeed could, lady Laurent.
It would be my pleasure.
I need to talk with you in privacy. Too many curious ears are around.
As Your majesty wishes.
After minutes of walking and nobody recognizing them, they ended up in a small cozy cafe place,
which was almost empty at this time of the day. Comfortable green chairs, small wooden round tables
and the best coffee in whole city. Sipping hot bitter drink, preparing for the incoming conversation.
Isn't Your majesty afraid to walk around without his guards?
I am sitting in a nice place with the best duelist in all Demacia so no, I am not afraid, lady Laurent.
They both smiled, but with lips only.
I think Your majesty didn't want to meet me just to tell me such compliments.
You are right. He put half empty drink on the table and missed her title once again.
Then why did you need me? Fiora decided to drop his as well.
Noxus sunk our fleet of cargo ships near Kalamanda. The claims are high.
How high? She listened with new interest. Of course, she has heard about it, but nobody knew any
details. It seemed that someone has declared information embargo on this case. Interesting, she thought,
taking another gulp of her black coffee.
It wouldn't be that bad, but this is for the fourth time something similar has happened. Our export of
grain for this year is severaly damaged.
Any evidence that it was Noxus? Jarvan's mood seemed to change, his eyes hardened, when Fiora
said Noxus, but it could've been just her imagination.
That is the problem. No evidence. And that's why I need you.
I am afraid I don't understand.
I need you to come with me investigate the incident. It took her few moments to fully understand the
meaning of his words. Fiora raised her eyebrows in surprise, the biggest portray of emotion she has
done so far.
You can't possibly mean just the two of us?
Lady Laurent....I can and I do. The man beside her suddenly looked very tired and old.
Wouldn't the Dauntless Vanguard be more suited for the job?
Garen has his job. And we can't go there officially, Kayle closed the place for all the fractions, but it is
just a facade. League is trying to avoid war between Noxus and Demacia by any means. They know we
would find evidence convicing noxus, hence they don't let anyone in.
I see...But why me? Don't you have enough of your people? Even that peasant ranger with her eagle
would be more suited for the job.
I wouldn't ask you of such a favour if I didn't have to. All of, as you said, my people, are necessary
elswhere.
Lady Laurent, I need you. No, Demacia needs you. I can't order you like I would do to my people, but
if you agree...Let's just say I can help you, if you know what I mean. And Fiora knew. He, Jarvan
Lightshield, would help her clean the family crest of Pierre Laurent's sins.
How much time do I have to consider your offer? He glanced at her, knowing her answer already.
Meet me at the southern gate at dawn. The prince said as he was getting up to leave.
Although it was late summer, the mornings were still chilly and windy. Fiora Laurent was glad for the
cape she had. It was dark red; only a few people know that dark red is more difficult to notice than
black at the night, and hid her well. Light armor, ( o o), a rapier and a parrying dagger, that's all she
needed. Laurent even got rid of her red hair stripe, to make herself less noticeable.

Jarvan was dressed in similar manner and already awaiting her. Accompanied by two horses.
Fiora sighed, of course she knew how to ride a horse, but the young aristocrat wasn't very fond of this
transport method.
Just in time. He said, petting the brown horse with white strains.
Yes. Moments later they were in their saddles, trotting to Kalamanda. The sun was rising and so was
the temperature, scorching their backs. Annoyance filled Fiora, riding the horse all day in armor when
it is so hot outside isn't something she is used to. Why did I agree to do this? I am duelist, not a guard!
But she knew very well why she said yes. Clearing her name was worth a bit of discomfort she
experienced.
The way to Kalamanda should take about 10 days. Even better. They went silent, racing through the
grainy fields for hours. Using roads would be too dangerous, anyone could notice them while still in
Demacia. The sun was slowly falling through the darkening sky, leaving prolonged shadows behind.
Grainy fields grew into a forest, making them slow dow. Long branches creating an arch above their
heads, only a few rays of moonlight shining through.
We should settle for the night, your majesty. A little glade surrounded by dense forest became the
place of their resting ground. Horses tied-up on a long leash, so they could feed off the grass, rugs
dispersed around it, the two were seated, waiting for the water to gain heat from the crisping flames.
After drinking hot tea and eating a light dinner, they prepared to sleep.
I will take the first watch, Your Majesty. She didn't feel like sleeping in old dirty rugs on the cold
ground anyway. Oh, how much she longed for her complacent queen-sized bed with silk blankets and
soft cushions.
Please, drop the title, it would be too conspicous. Just call me Jarvan. And it is incredibly tiring for
me to hear this title all the time.
Yes, You...Jarvan. Getting on first name therms with anyone was unusual for the young family head.
Leaning against a tree, Fiora was playing with her parrying dagger, watching its reflections in the light
of fire. No signs of danger anywhere, just peaceful nature.
How did you learn that?
Learn what?
How to set up a fire for example. Fiora left out a bitter laughter, reliving an old memory. Being 6
years old, ruthlessly beaten in a duel by her father, who was acting weirdly at the time. Drinking, she's
realized years later. Bruises all over her little body, she kept gripping her rapier and getting hit again,
again and again. Then she gotten up from the dusty ground, stormed off, tears running down her
cheeks. She hid in the forest for three days, three cold winter days, desperately trying to warm herself
up, figuring out how to make fire eventually. Pierre found her half dead in a snow-wreath, lying near a
burnt-out fireplace. He hugged her, carried back to the house and caressed her hair, until she woke up.
Since that, the young girl has never cried again, never lost again.
The lady of the house Laurent has to know how to make fire and survive. She answered instead,
looking into flames.
And that's why I chose you, Fiora. He smirked, wrapping himself up in the rugs. To defeat sleep and
boredom, Fiora took out her map, studying their route. They've had to avoid the Bubble bog, one of the
biggest swamps around, passing through forests of Kaladoun, then going along the Serpentine river all
the way up to Kaladona. Sneaking... She, the Grand Duelist, disguised as a mere peasant, she thought
with disgust. Humilating, but necessary. Even her famous rapier, family heirloom, had to stay in
Demacia's capital. No delegates were allowed in the city and the evidence was slowly getting rid of. It
would be much faster if they sailed on one of the barges or cargo ships traveling by the river.
Serpentine was one of the biggest corporal veins, interposing trading traffic with Freljord and Piltover.
Crippling this transition would hurt Demacia's economics, the culprit most likely knew this. It was
unlikely that the pirates were behind those attacks, since only the ships of the kingdom were raided.
Not only raided, but destroyed. No pirate would ever destroy a ship he could've kept or raided on its

next journey. Noxus seemed as the most likely perpetrator, but something was odd. Noxus wouldn't
want to seem as the culprit, they would sunk ships of different fractions and companies as well. Unless
they wanted war, which would be....unbelievable.
Slumber was breaking her again, so she stared at the moon, its blaze keeping her awake. More
memories came up and soon, she caught herself lost in them.
What are you thinking about?
We could use one of the barges, to get to Kalamanda on time, before they have time to alter the
evidence. She suggested.
Was it truly what were you thinking about? Ignoring the suggestion completely provoked her, but she
didn't let him know. Jarvan's voice sounded strong, but exhausted deep inside.
Yes. Fiora glanced at the sky to see how far has the moon transited. And it is your turn with watch.
Tired or not, she's done her share of work and needed sleep as well. Soon her eyes were closed, resting
in half-awake state, rapier in the reach. Too many people with dishonest intentions, not enough people
whom could she trust.
Heavy steps interrupted her sleep, Jarvan was already awake, packing their camp place and preparing
horses for the ride.
Galloping through a meadow, the terrifying Bubble Boh in sight. In the horizon, a black dot has
appeared. Growing larger as it was approaching, more details came in sight. Not a dot, a bird. An eagle.
It wasn't just circling in the sky, looking for prey, as eagles usually do- it was heading to them. There
was only one eagle who could do that.
What's in the message? Fiora asked when the big blue-eyed eagle with surprising intelligence in its
glance dropped a paper scroll with Demacian Monarch seal.
Another ship? She guessed by the grievous look on his face. He's passed her the scroll. In a beautiful
official font was written a single sentence. King Jarvan Lightshield the third of his name has fallen ill.
Rolled inside the official scroll, there was a little paper with few words scribbled. Poison? I'll
investigate. -L
We haven't left Demacia yet, there is still time to turn back. Fiora suggest, thinking about the
message. Attempt on King's life? Truly outrageous (yep, this is for you)! Poisoning wasn't anything unusual in
aristocratic social circles, but the current king was loved and admired by all. Or maybe not all. Who
could've done such a thing?
No. We have to go to Kalamanda. This wasn't the first cargo incident and won't be the last, unless we
stop them.
But your father...
There is nothing I could do for him. We have to carry on. She nodded and remained silent.
Two options are laid upon us, since passing through marshes in summer would be madness.
Let's board the barge. It is risky, but going around the swamps would take too much time.
The closest village is Aegria. Half day a ride away from here. Said Fiora after studying the map.