Arcane: In This New World

Tarren sat hunched over a workbench, his fingers deftly adjusting a small mechanism, the intricate cogs clicking into place. Viktor sat across the room, propped up in a chair near the window, his gaze distant. Tarren didn't need to look up to know that something was bothering him. He had grown familiar with Viktor's moods over the past few months, and today, the man seemed especially solemn.

"Alright," Tarren said, pulling his hands away from the leg brace he had been working on, before equipping it to Viktor. "It should be finished now. Go ahead and give it a try."

Viktor hesitated for a moment before rising from the chair. His movements were stiff, but as he took a few careful steps forward, Tarren saw the change. The brace, with its sleek design and mechanical precision, allowed Viktor to move without the need for his cane. He still walked with a slight limp, but it was clear he didn't need the crutch anymore.

Viktor glanced up at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I don't know how to thank you, Tarren. You really shouldn't have gone this far for me."

Tarren shrugged nonchalantly. "It's nothing."

Viktor nodded, his smile fading slightly as his eyes drifted back toward the window. There was something heavy in his expression, a weight that didn't seem to lift despite the progress Tarren had made with his invention.

Tarren, sensing his unease, set down his tools and approached the man. "Is everything alright?"

Viktor hesitated before replying. "I'm fine. It's just... I've heard some news. About my mentor. He... he passed away in the Undercity."

Tarren let out a quiet hum, offering his condolences. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Viktor shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "Don't be sorry. He was... a mad man. I don't know how to remember him—by the good things he taught me, or by the bad." He fell silent for a moment, as if lost in thought.

Tarren watched him, his brow furrowing. "Isn't it obvious? Remember the good. After all, if you've kept those memories, then they must've shaped who you are now."

Viktor smiled, a thin and somewhat melancholic smile. "I suppose you're right. When I came here, I had no one. No patron, no family. I had to rely on myself. But... I survived. I became who I am today because of the lessons I learned, because of the lessons he taught me." He sighed and changed the subject, clearly eager to move on. "Right, are you ready for that dinner?"

Tarren sighed too, standing up from his seat. "As ready as I'll ever be."

—

Now, Tarren sat inside the grand dining room of the Kirraman family mansion. The long, polished table was laid with lavish dishes, the scent of rich food filling the air. Tarren sat at the far end of the table, feeling oddly out of place among the fine furniture, the neatly pressed servants standing at attention, and the Kirraman family themselves. At the head of the table sat Councillor Cassandra Kirraman, a woman whose poise and sharp gaze made her seem both powerful and intimidating. Beside her sat her husband, Tobias, and on her other side, their daughter Caitlyn.

Tarren picked at his food, trying his best to act at ease, but the stiffness in his shoulders betrayed his discomfort.

Cassandra, always observant, seemed to notice his unease. "Is something wrong, Tarren?" she asked, her tone polite.

Tarren quickly swallowed a bite and shook his head. "No, ma'am. Everything's amazing. Thank you for the meal."

Cassandra studied him for a moment. "I heard from Heimerdinger that you're from the Undercity. Tell me, how did you make your way up to Piltover?"

Tarren hesitated, not quite sure how to answer. "Well... I don't really know the details myself, but a friend of mine helped me get permission to participate in the last Progress Day. Everyone rejected me, but the Academy took me in, which I'm thankful for. I've shown the same things that I've shown your financial manager, so it seems it didn't catch enough attention back then."

Tobias, who had been listening quietly, blinked in surprise. "So, you were rejected by our family for an audience then?" he asked.

Tarren nodded, his gaze briefly dropping to his plate. "Yes."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, her expression sharpening. She turned to one of the butlers. "Who was responsible for the screening for Progress Day this year?" she asked.

The butler quickly answered, "Harrold, ma'am."

Cassandra hummed thoughtfully, then glanced back at Tarren. "I'll have Harrold meet me later."

Tarren felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck as he continued eating, trying to maintain his composure. The conversation was clearly veering into uncomfortable territory, and he wasn't sure how to navigate it.

Cassandra turned her attention back to Tarren. "It's not often that a young inventor like you appears and creates something so... sellable, so quickly. We are currently sponsoring a few students from the academy ourselves, but none have produced results as fast as yours." She leaned forward slightly. "And yet, you're not even sponsored by us."

Tarren merely smiled at the compliment. "I'm honored by your praise, ma'am, but I should thank you instead. Thanks to your support, I don't need to worry about money anymore. It's been a huge relief. I can even send some to my friends back home."

At this, Caitlyn, who had been silent until now, spoke up with a curious glint in her eyes. "What's it like... 'back home'?" she asked, leaning forward slightly just like her mother.

Before Tarren could answer, Cassandra shot her daughter a sharp look. "Caitlyn, it's not appropriate to ask that during dinner," she chided gently.

Caitlyn scrunched up her face in defiance, but said no more, sinking back into her chair. Tarren couldn't help but chuckle quietly at her expression. But when he did, the entire table fell silent and turned their gaze on him. He straightened up his back and quickly muttered, "Excuse me," hoping the attention would shift away. When he looked at Caitlyn, he saw that she was blushing a little, becoming a bit self-conscious of her act.

After a moment of silence, Cassandra cleared her throat and changed the topic. "I'd like to make a proposal, Tarren. You're not yet sponsored by anyone, and we'd like to change that. We'd be honored to sponsor you, in exchange for an agreement that all of your future projects will be presented exclusively to us."

Tarren blinked, taken aback by the offer. "I was planning to do that anyway, showing my projects to your family I mean." he replied. "The Kirramans are the only ones who've shown interest in my work."

Cassandra's expression hardened slightly. "Then it's settled," she said. "We shall introduce you as our newest patron at the next social gathering we're hosting."

Tarren blinked, surprised by the suddenness of the announcement. "A gathering?"

Cassandra nodded. "In about a week or so."

Tobias, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, spoke up with a grin. "Considering your background, perhaps you'd appreciate a few lessons on social etiquette before the event?" He chuckled softly.

Tarren, feeling a little self-conscious, chuckled shyly. "I... I would appreciate that, yes."

Cassandra smiled, satisfied with the arrangement. "Then we'll look forward to introducing you properly."