#askirelia

A wrapped hand flexed around the handle of the broken blade that lay comfortably against her leg. The other idly smoothed the cloth of her tunic, fingering the worn leather that pulled tight around her torso. It was rough, the material was frayed. It needed replaced, like most of her gear, but she had stood firm against armourers of the League upon her arrival not a week before. It added to her charm, they had acquiesced, and one man had reportedly gone so far as to call it 'hobo chic'. 

Such things mattered little to Riven, the value of her wears and her blade far more than any Summoners or those of the League could comprehend. Even now, frayed and beaten as they were, they offered comfort between calloused fingertips as she stared into the grainy wood of the stage beyond and listened to the chatter that went on not twenty feet from her. The audience reacted with each answer, and given the two Champions that currently sat beneath a presenter's inquisition were Xin Zhao and Garen Crownguard, and the great many Demacians that had travelled to catch the show live, cheering often grew loud enough to pull her sights with a certain amount of worry to the masses. 

It was supposedly intended to be as much of an introduction of Riven as it was to showboat the bruisers of the ranks. But Riven didn't want to be here. She didn't know what was to be asked. She didn't know what they would seek to unearth. It left a bad taste in her mouth, bitter like the tainted dirt of Couer. Irelia, Champion of Ionia had been paired with her -- supposedly their connections to Ionia surpassed the fact that they had fought on opposing sides. Riven knew all about the daughter who had all but died in a battle where she slaughtered countless Noxians, and she did not relish meeting her. 

Thirty minutes still stood between herself and their allotted time slot for questioning, and a commotion behind her drew her attention. 

None other than Irelia stood a few feet away with her back to Riven, clearly having just entered the tent Riven had taken her place at the edge of. It was here Champions were prepped for their appearance, and it would seem the Ionian was as violently against whatever colours they had once intended to paint on her face. The former exile had batted them away, and it seemed Irelia was having somewhat more trouble doing the very same thing. 

Riven might have questioned whether it was a good idea to step over, to lend her own voice to the defiance, but there was little reason to opt against it. If there was to be any tension between herself and Irelia, better to hash it out before the show, lest they risk their positions within the League being compromised due to a more explosive show than the puppeteers expected. Her steps were not tentative as she crossed the length of the tent to join the ruckus. 

"Excuse me," she said, low voice firm as she gripped the shoulder of one woman who wielded an eyeshadow brush, hand firm enough to halt the woman's movement entirely. "If it is not necessary for me, it isn't for her either." 

The woman blinked owlishly at Riven, hand falling as she nodded, glancing idly towards her companions, each with a different sort of brush between their fingers. They backed off, and Riven's amber gaze flickered with a certain tentativeness to the Ionian Champion before her. 

As a young teenager, Kuryu often made trips to Ionia in hopes of learning various fighting styles from many a master. However, most humans feared the sight of a half-dragon and immediately casted him aside, preventing him from learning directly from the master and thus forced to observe their teachings from afar and incognito. There were many techniques and skills Kuryu observed and over time, he perfected each one he was able to catch a glimpse of. Combining that with the already lethal Close-Quarters-Combat he learned from his mother, Kuryu's fighting style became what it is now.

Tonight, however, the young dragon felt the need to further improve his technique "tch-! No good... this just won't do!" he sighed "I feel like I can do better than this... I suppose a trip to Ionia would have to be in order" Having the ability to fly, traveling to another continent is a breeze to the half-dragon. The only difficulty he would have is dealing with the people, as most of them would immediately report the authorities of a monster in their midst.

Slightly annoyed, Kuryu ended his training session for the day, sleeping for the rest of the night atop a large tree. The next day, the half-dragon took flight and departed for Ionia, arriving late at night a few hours later. He touched down and took the rest of the trip on foot, traveling to the nearest town and following the road from there. 

The dull roar of explosives sounded left and right, the muted thump as another canister landed into the dirt. She wasn’t afraid. She could be. But…what was that feeling that sank into the pit of her stomach. Was that dread? She flinched, her cheek singed where hot shrapnel had just whizzed by her face. Another explosion threw her off her feet. In the few split moments she was airborne she saw the field. Ionians and Noxians alike being torn apart by the artillery. Then she noticed it. Green clouds of gas rolling out from the impact sight. The view of men and woman gagging and falling to their death. She landed. Noting that she felt covered in something warm. Blood. No…No no nono!

"NO!" Riven awoke, screaming, heart racing in her chest. Her entire body had broken out into a cold sweat. She let out a large breath, still feeling the terror of the chemical bombs. She looked about, confused as to where she was. The walls and floors were wood, so not the institute. Then she remembered. Ionia. She was staying in Ionia. She shuddered, drawing her legs up against her, head resting on her legs. She sobbed. "Why…why." She murmured to herself.

She didn’t know when Irelia had knocked, and then let herself into her room. She did know that when she sat on the edge of the bed something compelled riven to reach out and wrap her arms around the shoulders of the other. A comforting hand placed itself on her head, and a soothing voice filled her ears. She sobbed into the given shoulder.