Arcane: Painted Tapestries

[Northside]

Powder trudged through the quiet streets of the Entresol level, tugging her hood downward as a group of armed men walked past.

The things she had seen on her way to Northside…

Countless rotting corpses lined the winding outskirt streets, looking as if they had been dragged and dumped there. Residents of all ages and genders tearing each other apart for a single vial of whatever that shimmering purple liquid was.

It was awful.

She leant forward onto the makeshift cane she had grabbed off one of the many men lining the street. He looked more than halfway dead anyhow, so much so that she had mistaken him for another corpse. The woman hoped the man wouldn't miss it too much.

What really unsettled her were the mottled purple veins that were covering his body, every single one twitching unnaturally, completely out of sync with his thunderous heartbeat.

The woman's eyes hit the ground as another person passed her by.

One thing was for sure: this was not her world. It was just too different from what she knew.

A few minutes of walking later and she reached the marketplace, which according to her memories, should have been ablaze with activity; however instead it was deathly silent and practically empty.

On the corner of the street stood her father's bar, just like it always had been. The decoration was changed a bit, sure; but other than that, it looked the same.

Her pace quickened.

If anyone could sympathise with her situation, it would be Vander - no matter which reality she jumped to. That much she was sure of.

Powder was about halfway toward The Last Drop before she heard a set of hurried footsteps behind her.

She turned just in time to see a small figure reach up and grab her by the shoulder, watching as he shook his head silently.

A young, muffled voice emanated from behind his owl-like mask. "If you're thinking of going in there, don't. You'll be killed on the spot."

"Killed?" Asked Powder, looking down at the small boy apprehensively. "Isn't this Vander's bar?"

The boy scoffed, removing his hand from her shoulder and now pointing toward The Last Drop. "I don't know where you've been living for the past two months, but that place isn't Vander's anymore. He's dead. Silco runs the place now."

Powder's heart stopped.

"Dead?" She uttered disbelievingly. "But… How?"

The woman could practically the boy's jaw dropping behind his mask, his tone incredulous.

"You seriously don't know? Silco had him killed, along with anyone who supported him."

"Oh fuck." She gasped out, her breath hitching, wrapping her arm around the stolen cane and covering her mouth.

Vander dead?

Silco - Uncle Silco killing him?

This was definitely not her world.

The boy opposite her hesitated, looking as if he wanted to ask her something. His focus was quickly shifted however when a loud ticking echoed from within his oversized trench coat's left pocket.

He pulled a mechanical watch, staring at it furiously before his gaze darted up to the cloaked woman opposite him.

The boy bit his lip, unsure what to do next.

"Time to go." He said, making up his mind and grabbing the woman by her hand to pull her forward. She stumbled, hood falling back, a look of pained suffering flashing across her pale face.

The oblivious boy didn't look back at her, his brown eyes scanning the marketplace for an escape route. "C'mon! Or we'll get caught." He hissed, freezing slightly as he took in the woman's pain-stricken expression.

A loud boom echoed from the street adjacent to the bar, quickly followed by yells of shock and anger. They could both hear thunderous footsteps echoing toward their location.

"What's wrong?" He asked, panicking at her lack of movement.

Powder swallowed hard, shamefully tearing up at being dragged halfway across the market so quickly. "My back.. I can't. It hurts too much."

"Shit." The boy swore, his gaze darting toward the nearest alley nervously. "Get in there, quickly." He ushered the blue-haired woman into it. "Speed up or we both die." He added, and Powder squeezed her tearful eyes shut, hobbling onward just a little bit faster.

The duo made it to the shadows of the alley just in time, hiding behind a large pipe that ran up the wall; scarcely managing to avoid getting spotted by the group of hardened-looking men who had just run into the marketplace.

Powder slumped against the dirty wall, gasping in pain. Silent tears streamed down her face.

Just when it was getting better too - now she couldn't even walk properly.

Despite the tremendous discomfort she was in, a single image flickered across her ever-active mind.

That watch… She knew that watch.

It was his watch.

The woman wiped her tears away, the burning agony that had seared down the base of her spine lessening as she stayed prone and unmoving.

She stared at the boy crouching in front of her, at the oversized trenchcoat, and at his white-coloured, gold-accented, full-face, owl mask.

Against her better judgement, she reached forward, startling the boy by pulling back his drooping hood and exposing his short fuzzy white hair.

The dark-skinned boy whipped around to stare at her accusingly, taking his eyes off the group of hostiles they were hiding from.

His gloved hand automatically reached to pull his hood back up, freezing once again as he heard the woman's next words.

"Ekko? Is that you?" She whispered, looking up at him with a resigned hope.

—

[Mudtown]

Callian sprinted across the multi-layered rooftops, switching between the first and second floors of each building where convenient.

Zeri followed close behind him, looking rather like she wanted to ground to swallow her whole.

As it turned out, the 'Redhouse' wasn't a building at all; it was an entire, massive district. The place was sectioned off from the rest of Mudtown via a gigantic red wall that spanned the entire sector's perimeter.

The masked duo wrapped around the oversized fencing until they reached a building adjacent to one of the few entrances.

Redhouse guards stood tall at the doorway, gatekeeping the district's potential visitors from entry until they had put on one of the provided fox-themed half-masks.

Callian's pink eyes flickered over the inner workings of the verification process going on below them.

It looked far too invasive for his liking.

He glanced over to his apprentice, wordlessly calling for her to continue following him.

The man stared up at the top of the red fencing before him, which was still taller than both of them, despite their current position standing atop the roof of a two-story building.

His blood ignited, and he jumped, dislodging a few of the roof's tiles and sending them skittering down and off the edge of the building to the street below.

Callian cleared the obstacle easily, falling directly on top of the wall itself so that he could look down onto the district below.

It somehow looked even larger from his new vantage point.

The place was easily half the size of the entire town, something the blue-haired man was more than a little surprised by.

Zeri landed beside him unsteadily, teetering over the edge of the thick, red-coloured wooden pillars.

Callian reached up to his mask, sliding his fingers underneath the owl's sharp beak which hung over his crooked nose.

He held his nose closed gently, closing his eyes and breaking the oddly shaped nose ridge between his thumb and forefinger.

Violet blood dripped from his wound, shimmering gently under the cold winter sunlight. The man's nose began to resit immediately, shifting from crooked to straight, his oddly coloured blood slowly getting sucked back into where it had come from.

With this regeneration, came his newly regained sense of smell; a sense he had forcefully disabled due to how crippling its enhanced effects had been.

A shimmer-enhanced sense of smell coupled with the unclean stench of the Undercity made for an extremely uncomfortable combination. The permanent stink left by the Kiramman gas hadn't helped with this either, making it practically uninhabitable for him.

How the Zonai managed to live down there he had no idea.

The man's lip curled in disgust at the new array of scents assaulting his empowered senses.

From the left, way outside of the Redhouse, the foul scent of rot, earth and smoke - likely from the industrial centre.

To the right, swirling upward from within the towering red walls, the smell of freshly spilt blood, paper, drugs, and sex.

Both were equally overpowering in their own way.

"This place is incredible." Muttered Zeri, staring down at the dense array of buildings that took up every inch of the place.

Red lanterns hung upon red strings that stretched above crowded streets, something that the blue-haired man was sure would have been an incredible sight to see when illuminated, had it been nighttime.

It was unfortunate that they would both be gone by then.

"All of man's illicit desires contained and served within one place. You could even torture someone to death for fun here, should you have the money necessary." Callian commented flatly, honing in on the distinct scent of lovemaking that wafted up to him.

His green-haired apprentice looked disgusted by his amicable words, her somewhat favourable opinion of the Redhouse before them lowering.

Callian stepped off of the pillar he was standing on, his cloak billowing upward due to the updraft opposing his descent.

He hit the carefully trimmed grass of the oriental gardens below, his metal boots leaving two scorched footprints in the greenery.

Zeri opted to run down the side of the gigantic wooden fencing rather than jumping straight off of it.

At least she wasn't trying to copy his movement anymore, something that had resulted her in taking one heavy fall too many during their training sessions together in Eastside.

The pair darted through the gardens, once again ascending to the rooftops above, making a beeline for where Callian assumed the whorehouses were.

Callian had a few embers to burn away due to his artificial regeneration, so he used bullet time during their entire journey there.

Zeri was finding it extremely difficult to keep up with him while maintaining control of the visual side of her aspect, but she did her best.

They dropped down to street level discreetly, pulling up their hoods and merging with the crowd ahead.

The further they walked down the street, the more the people walking thinned out, with most if not all heading inside of the various buildings lining the street.

One in particular stood out to Callian, and he headed towards it.

The wooden sign hanging above the building's entrance had a large pink lotus carved into its surface.

He had overheard some of the more talkative deckhands mention the place while they were at sea. It was a place they were 'looking forward to paying a visit'.

Even the strict Davros, who had overheard their hushed conversation, had withheld his usual reprimands at their talking about unrelated topics, silently walking out of earshot without commenting.

Zeri followed her mentor's gaze, her steps morphing back to the tense and apprehensive they had been beforehand.

The man beside her snorted inwardly, wondering if she would still be wearing the same anxious countenance after leaving.

The sign above the entrance flickered for a moment, unnoticed by the masked duo now beneath it; a dark red sheen briefly swirling across its surface, momentarily revealing a black rose in place of the once pink lotus.

Callian pushed the door open, watching as the only other customer inside was escorted away by a masked attendant.

This left Callian, Zeri and the masked receptionist alone in the large waiting room.

"Sir?" The black-haired woman's soothing voice reached Callian. "How can I help you today?"

He strode forward, dropping his hood and allowing the woman to gaze upon his white owl half-mask.

"An heir's education, can this establishment provide it?" He asked, tapping his armoured finger on the wooden desk she sat behind.

Her smile broadened upon spotting his uniquely designed mask - only those of a higher political standing were allowed to wear such things inside of the Redhouse.

"That we do sir." She replied. "And it is a service that is free of charge for those of a noble origin such as yourself."

Callian's eyes flashed a deep violet, but the masked receptionist's regard had already switched down to the paper in front of her.

His blood burned, and he was instinctually put on guard by what he had felt, with time slowed down around him in response.

Something was hanging around this woman.

Something… Arcane.

He turned away to look at Zeri to see if she had noticed it too, only to glimpse a dark strand of something wrapping around the woman's tanned skin out of the corner of his eye.

It was gone the moment his gaze flicked back to her person however.

He frowned curiously, it seemed like the woman didn't even know it was there - and if she did, she didn't care in the slightest, paying it no attention at all.

If the shimmer in his blood didn't give him some basic resistance to magical illusions, he wouldn't have even noticed its presence there. That's how powerful the spell was.

It didn't seem to be aggressive in nature, acting more like an extra eye than anything else. The shape it took though, is what worried him.

Dark red thorns stretched across the woman's skin, circling her exposed flesh in an endless spiral.

It was the Deceiver's magic, he was sure of it.

But in a place so far from Noxus? Why?

"Preference?" The woman's words startled him out of his reverie, and he realised that his blood had already burnt out.

It hadn't cooled down enough to be used to a proper effect yet, safely at least.

"Female." He replied, not waiting for Zeri's input on the matter.

The woman paused before continuing her line of questioning. "You would prefer to have your daughter's chastity intact I presume?"

"Naturally." Said Callian, ignoring the woman's incorrect assumption and instead talking as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

His young apprentice's heart skipped three consecutive beats upon hearing the back and forth between the two adults in front of her.

"Very well, please wait a moment while I inform our foxes of your request."

The woman tapped the golden bell which sat on the desk next to her papers, summoning back the masked assistant from one of the many doors behind her.

She passed the paper to the man, whose keen eyes scanned it briefly before bowing and retreating back from whence he came.

"Please wait a few minutes for us to prepare, then we'll have a selection of our foxes for you to choose from."

Callian stepped away from the desk, turning toward the chairs that lined the sides of the spacious waiting area.

He gestured at one, and Zeri sat down on it stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He stared at her deeply, before sighing.

"Are you nervous?" Asked Callian, knowing the answer to his own question. He could hear her anxiety himself, and he did not doubt that the Beastman assistant who had just left noticed as well.

The man had hidden his animal features well, Callian had to admit, but his heart had betrayed his true nature. It was slow, much slower than a regular human's was, and far more powerful.

"Yes." The girl admitted, twirling a lock of her long green hair around her forefinger nervously.

"Most are," Callian replied, taking the seat next to her, his eyes sauntering up toward the hand-sewn tapestry that covered the ceiling above them.

"Were you?" She asked him quietly, her eyes drifting upward to the tapestry too. A large golden rose was sewn into its dark red surface.

Wait, a rose?

Zeri blinked confusedly. No, it was definitely a lotus.

But then, where had that thought come from?

"No." Her mentor's voice calm brought the girl back from her absent thoughts. "I grew up around the sort of people who would whore themselves out just for a proper meal."

The blue-haired man wore a flat smile that didn't quite reach his pink eyes. "In the outskirts, if you had no money for food, then your body was the only thing left to barter with. All of us resorted to it at some point or another."

Callian's fingers began to drum on the thigh of his armoured leg uneasily, his expression slowly fading back into his usual disinterest. There was an unusual tightness present around his eyes however, barely noticeable behind his white mask.

To his surprise, the man felt a hand place itself on top of his own moving one, halting its compulsive motion.

Its owner cast their yellow eyes away from him, a silent, understanding air surrounding her.

There was judgement hidden behind the girl's calming action - and no pity either. Just sympathy.

No words were exchanged between them, but Callian let out one of his rarer, radiant smiles in response to her innocent attempt at comforting him.

It was moments like these where he could almost forget the responsibilities laid upon him, regressing back to his older self.

Zeri's heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of his expression.

So he could smile like that too huh? 

A small grin subconsciously formed on her face as she looked away from him, feeling as his hand turned over to embrace her own.

A warm feeling bubbled softly inside her.

She had managed to bring out that smile.

Zeri snapped back to her senses as a deep, purring voice wormed its way into her left ear. "Sir, madam, if you'll follow me this way."

She turned back to face Callian, only now noticing the masked assistant's return to the waiting room.

How did she not hear his arrival?

Her mentor got to his feet, pursuing the tall man through one of the many doors that lay behind the receptionist's desk.

Callian's nose wrinkled as he stepped through the ornate doorway and into the corridor beyond. Even Zeri began to take note of the subtle smell that was wafting throughout the building.

A minute later and the Beastman leading them suddenly stopped, coming to half outside of a paper-thin door which he slid open and gestured the pair of them into.

Eight differently dressed women stood lined up in the centre of the room, each sporting a different coloured fox mask and a matching kimono.

"Please, make your choice." Said the Beastman, directly addressing Callian.

The blue-haired man's pink eyes lingered slightly over the fourth woman ahead of him, whose mask was a light cyan, the colour matching her long hair.

He turned to Zeri however - this was her choice to make, not his.

The girl looked slightly overwhelmed by how many people there were to choose from, and she looked toward him sheepishly.

Callian did not dignify her appeal with a response, instead choosing to stay silent.

Seeing that she would get no help with her decision, the teen stepped forward, staring intently at every single one of the women opposite her.

Zeri's yellow eyes settled on the fifth one, hesitantly reaching forward to grab ahold of her shoulder-length, dark blue hair.

"This one." She said, retracting her hand and turning back to face the assistant.

Callian felt the chosen woman's heart leap with relief, whereas her colleagues wilted slightly underneath their failure.

The man could understand why.

If they didn't get chosen, they didn't get paid. That was the way it worked.

Whoring was a competitive environment - if you didn't make the cut, you were cast aside in favour of another, more popular applicant. It was a ruthless business to end up in, one where you could be discarded at any moment.

The assistant snapped his fingers, cueing the unselected to file out of the room, leaving the blue-haired one alone with them.

"How long?" Asked Callian.

The Beastman hummed deeply before replying. "Two hours I should think. That will give Quinn here an ample amount of time to educate your ward." He indicated toward the remaining woman.

"Very well," Callian nodded curtly. "Then escort me out so that they may start."

The assistant nodded smoothly, gesturing the masked man toward the room's exit.

The two men left, and Callian caught a brief glimpse of the blue-haired woman slowly slide her hand around Zeri's own, tracing her fingerless gloves sensually; before the door slid shut, obscuring the pair from view.

—

To clarify for any of you who are wondering; Zonai are the species of mutated Beastmen that are native to Zaun, and they differ from the regulars of their kind due to that aspect.

—

(Total word count: 3474)