The Blade's Shadow

NYAHAHHAHAHA YES JOIN US

“Katarina's laughter was a shield. It had made her invulnerable in the past and that wouldn't change, not even now. He guessed she was wordlessly covering the holes of her silence with, he had been cruel, he had preyed on her past. Until her words stabbed him sharper than steel. Talon visibly tensed, his hand almost squeezing the blade's hilt.

But his head was down, his face shadowed under the hood, unreadable. He knew Katarina would see through it as if he was transparent, an open document to be read.

He took a few steps away from her, openly leaving his back vulnerable. Perhaps as a taunt or perhaps because he sensed she would not attack him. Talon stopped by the ledge, no blade was hurled at Katarina Du Couteau.

"That is why we are so different. I kill without passion, I am an assassin, orders and gold dictate my blade. I don't need to believe in this Empire to kill in its name. " Like a mercenary who didn't expect gold, his blade was sold for his obsessive loyalty, his hope, his hunger for information which would lead him to the shadows behind his mentor's demise.

"And that is why you will never be the assassin he needed." No, she was more than that, she was more than just a blade in her father's armory. She was the destined heir. She was not like him, she was never meant to, her blood was noble, his blood wasn't. The only blood which made him worthy was the one on his hands, his ability to assassinate any target.

Talon seethed in silence as he helplessly believed her. Had his lack of loyalty to Noxus truly been the General's disappointment?

WELCOME BACK OMG

The Name of the Blade constantly interacts with Katarina’s bio, not exactly her short story. 

This fragment basically becomes what we’ve read in Talon’s color story. 

Most of what is exposed, we knew, though there are some interesting highlights that left me wondering if they’ll be developed further in the future. 

“ but I am stone. Succumbing to such weakness would only carry me further from the Edge.”

 The Edge (1)

“A bead of sweat trickled down my ribs, despite the cold.”

fanservice. thanks.

“I flowed around her, cold and colorless against her passion.”

That’s Talonn, passionless blue steel.  ♥

I glimpsed an opening, once, where I could have ended her. She would have fallen, for true this time. Nobody would have known of my mistake, nobody but me.

I saw the opening, but I let it pass me by

“She touched her face again, tracing a wound that would never leave her.” 

Talon’s choice.

I could not bring myself to stand in her way, not anymore. The hypocrisy would be too great. My duty was to return and face judgment, and see what price I had to pay.

Talon’s Failure sprouts from Katarina’s failure. They are now equals.

My name had never mattered.

Good. GOOD!

I watch her make quick work of the soldiers who remain to challenge her. I imagine myself in the place of the last of them, seeing the openings he does not, before his head rolls from his shoulders and he joins the dead.

Reading Katarinna’s strikes. So delightfully stated! 

My fingers are pebbled with a thousand scars, each a single tiny step on my path toward the Edge, that unattainable perfect state I strive for.

The Edge (2)

So we see this idea going around. A perfect mental - physical for assassination in the General’s teachings? Devoid of all emotion, relaxed awareness, mechanical response? I have the feeling I’ve seen this concept applied before, many times. toninjasmostly or martial artists.

I call it Katarina.

Curator: ""Beloved companions!"

Disciple: "Edvin! There you are, handsome. I was just thinking of you!"

Curator: "Were you? Well I received an invitation."

Aristocrat: "Ah, you too? To the Reveler's B--"

Curator: "--Reveler's Ball! Yes!"

Disciple: ""Each of us can go, now…"

Curator: "Then we must! I shall present my family."

Aristocrat: "How am I to tolerate mine?"

Disciple: "Escort me. I'll make it fun."

Aristocrat: "Respectfully, my dear, my father would disown me. ...perhaps we should wear matching dresses."

Disciple: "Or nothing at all?"

Curator: "Starters before dessert, my dear. And you, Kye? Will you attend?"

We are always unmasked. They may know our faces, but never who we truly are.

Well of course I know him, he's me!

It appears the superior Talon has returned. Good.