League of Legends Drabbles

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It gleams to the eye, the shine one brought on by the material of its make and the way it can thus reflect light. As I bend to pick it up, a sheen runs from tip to tip as if in reply.

A small smile touches my lips and I raise the object in my left hand, my right moving to my quiver. My eye looks to the distance, focusing on the target from afar.

Fit the arrow to the string, draw back, release.

There is the dull thock of the arrow landing dead centre in the bullseye. I continue, the sound soothing to my ears. Fit the arrow to the string, draw back, release.

Let fly.

And the arrows do, carving a path that is straight, true, and oh-so-cold through the air.

At last I lower my weapon, my fingers curled comfortably around the grip. The weapon may be True Ice, but to me it is as warm as the blood that I spilled on the day I found it.

The first Noxian assassin from the guild had been disdainful. He'd approached Talon, then merely a boy, and demanded the boy give his services to the guild. Give, as if it was a present passed from person to person. Talon had just as coldly refused. He'd lived all his life alone, and quickly learned that he could only rely on himself. The man had laughed then. "You've less sense than guts boy, and the city will see them tonight."

Talon had left the man, stabbed guts and all, in the alley where they met, and gone on his way without a second thought.

The woman faces me down, concentration plain on her face - an expression that I know is probably mirrored in mine. In the training room, the only noise is that of breathing. Even though both her and I shift on our feet, neither of us can be heard - a testament to who we both are, and our talents.

Then she moves, and the last I see of Katarina Du Couteau is a red blur, coming straight for me.

I twist underneath her lunge, rolling away to a crouch. I spin around to face my foe, my blades meeting hers in a clash of steel - anything less than live weapons is an insult to the both of us. Katarina doesn't bother bother trying to force my blades in a show of strength - instead, she frees her blades and darts away, lunging in again with the speed that makes her feared both in and out of Summoner's Rift. Every move she makes I counter with one of my own, my blades flashing to stop hers every time.

I am getting tired - but then again, so is she. I can tell by the slight sheen of sweat that mars her brow, the slight slowing in her attacks. It means nothing though - I know very well that I resemble her quite closely at the moment. Neither of us has the upper hand - and we both knew it.

Many warriors telegraph their moves in their eyes, but Katarina was not and never has been one of those people. Neither have I. She vanishes at the same time as I lunge. We appear again, on opposite sides of the room, each in the other's place.

Katarina recognises what had happened first, and starts to laugh. I am slower to catch on, but when it clicks I lower my blades briefly to shoot her a fleeting grin of acknowledgement - the Du Couteau family are of the few people I show any strong emotions to. We grin wryly at eachother across the room, each acknowledging the other's ability (my Cutthroat and her Shunpo), before the woman crosses to stand before me, offering a hand. "Draw?"

I take it, and the next thing I know I'm flying across the room. She springs after me in a whirl of steel, her words almost as fast her knives. "Never let your guard down, Talon!"

She lands on top of me, pinning me to the ground, a knife to my throat, and it would be plain that she's won...but for one thing: My knives are pointed at her throat too.

"I never let my guard down," I reply seriously to her, my gaze meeting hers in a battle of wits.

She relents, lowering her blades and getting up. She again offers me a hand, and I take it. This time she helps me to my feet rather than throwing me across the room.

"I'll guess I'll just have to try again tomorrow," she says to me.

"The feeling is mutual," I reply levelly, a slight hint of humour in my voice.

The boy dropped to his knees, and I was unprepared for him falling forward. Suddenly the weight of a boy was in my hands, a boy not much older than I, his surprised gaze capturing mine.

Then he exhaled one final time, and there was nothing but the slow trickling of blood through my fingers from the knife I’d driven into Kavyn’s chest.

My first kill, but it wouldn’t - as I would later find out - be my last.

—-

Talon snapped back to reality and his emotionless gaze landed on the robot in front of him. “My earliest memories are my business. Now, I have wasted enough time here.”