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The thick silence of the Ionian night lay only broken by the chorus of insects and the ensembles of the festival. A gray wool cloak flutters underneath the remnant amber lights of a sunset of lanterns, playfully shedding fragments of warmth upon the profile of a hunched silhouette.
It was getting late, and the blossoms above had already begun their journey.
Riven lifted her hood. It's not as though anybody searching for her would be here anyways. Anyone who cared had probably died a lifetime ago.
Carved masks of monsters and spirits donning soft robes shuffle along the street as they create a pocket of space for the stranger. It was as if they could sense that Riven wasn’t supposed to be here. No matter how long she stayed, it always seemed to be the case… despite what O-ma likes to tell her. The only reminder of home now, the bundle of warmth strapped to her back that O-ma had prepared for her. Once that granny had caught wind of where Riven was headed, she’d been adamant in giving her a gourd of tea, slowly pronouncing to her in simple Ionian, "You will need this… daughter".
The twilight's first star sang through the darkness to greet Ionia's nightly performance.
Riven had felt torn for far too long. It was something that she’d never been able to shake off, ever since she’d first slept in Ionia, it had become a part of her. No amount of naked penance could change this, and yet she felt all the more guilty still.
The shadows of branches clawed into the dimming light of the path ahead, as if even the land itself knew of the deeds she’d committed. And for good reason. She'd once tread upon this land accompanied by soldiers and death, scarring it a second time trying to find some semblance of atonement— it was best not to think of these things.
A quarter moon now hung above the town and shone her soft light upon forested crests which seemed to indefinitely spiral towards the stars above. Towards the summit, where spirit blossoms fall.
Pushing past the village's thresholds, the trees parted into groves, hinting towards a path above. Gateway shrines swallowed the stone steps and statues ahead, an invitation for the living. The exile solemnly yet steadily began to walk, one step at a time.
Eventually, the sound of moving water crept towards her and the trees faded into a clearing. A shallow river cut the clearing in two, dappled unto which, drifted a fractured moon. Riven had arrived.
She gently folded her cloak along the riverbank and took out the tea that O-ma had given her. Twisting open the cap of the gourd to take a few sips, she smiled as steam escaped and a bitter but oddly nostalgic flavor fleetingly overcame her senses.
The gateway to the spirit realm had parted its doors ever so slightly open.
She placed the gourd and her shoes beside the cloak and stepped into the steady stream of water. Once the water had reached her waist, as if they’d been waiting for her, the spirit blossoms made their entrance. Petals of faded pinks and blues gingerly floated down the riverside like origami boats. As the water pushed itself around Riven, she was struck by the beauty of the land she’d once proclaimed was a part of Noxus. A part of her.
Memories of war dripped into her consciousness despite herself. That day. The convoy had been lost from the very start, but how could they have ever known? Fires had wrapped around her and burnt her world away. It was chaos. Her entire family, instantly ablaze in the whirlwind embrace of a chemical inferno. Everybody she’d traveled across an ocean with was either missing or dead now. The cursed blade that’d been gifted to her was the only reason she’d survived, the cost of which she struggled to find the end of.
Riven entertained the thought of never being able to atone for the crimes she'd committed. Why had she even come here? What good would apologizing to the dead even do? To a family who’d never see one another again? No. Maybe she could talk to her sisters of war, explain to them how wrong they'd all been. And tell them why she'd decided to not return home? How naive. Maybe the real reason why she was here was too selfish to admit. Whatever the answer, she thought to herself, it would reveal itself tonight…
Yet all she could hear was the odd bubbling of the brook and the occasional splash of the spirit blossoms which bobbed on either side of her.
Fragmented memories echoing Riven's past began to lick the outside of her vision. It seems that no matter how long the water ran through her hands though, not a single blossom would drift near her.
Eventually growing tired, she waded back to the riverbank in search of somewhere to rest. Lifting herself backwards to fall onto her folded cloak, she let her feet break the surface of lukewarm currents.
Maybe her sisters were avoiding “the one that got away”. The traitor to Noxus. What was she still even doing in Ionia anyway, they might ask. But they didn't even have the decency to greet her. Who was she kidding? In what world would her sisters even be able to find her here. Would the souls of Ionia’s invaders really rest in the same afterlife of those they’ve killed? Maybe the stories behind these blossoms are just a bunch of fairy tales told to Ionian children.
Lost in thought, her eyelids slowly flickered close and the stars faded into the darkness above. A deep sleep had taken hold.
Murky voices and hushed whispers echo in pitch black.
All at once, as if the voices could sense an intruder, there is a momentary silence.
"Traitor." A raspy voice breaks out.
"Why did you live?" Whispered a spiteful voice.
"I trusted you," said a faint but familiar voice, etched in pain.
Sharply, Riven turned towards those words but saw only darkness.
Walking, crawling, thumps of movement slowly surrounded Riven. Spurts of liquid dripped on the ground around her. Riven took a step backwards but haphazardly tripped over what felt like a limb.
Catching herself with her palms she asked, "Arrel? Quiet sister, is that you?”
An uncomfortable amount of silence took hold before Riven continued, “Show yourselves. Where am I?”
“And help a deserter? You knew the price better than anyone.”
“I thought you died… I thought everyone did. Where’d you all go?” Riven trailed off, anxious yet scared to know.
"Back to Noxus, sister, where you belong." Answered a few of the voices in unison.
"Noxus... Listen, Noxus isn't what we thought it was. We’ve been blind since the orphanage, the things we did… they were wrong."
The frigid darkness suddenly flickered with heat, soon everything began to intensify into the hellscape from which Riven could never seem to wake from.
"You left us sister." A hollow voice spat. "I saw you, watching as we burned…”
“There was nothing I could do,” Riven replied, forcing her eyes closed now.
“Wrong. Tell us what became of the deceiver's gift? You always had a choice, sister , and you chose them .”
“And what was I supposed to do?” An etching pain began to inundate her throat now. “They were innocent! Shattered into a piece of Noxus… Ionia, this place, it’s different. Please, if we were ever sisters, listen to me. We never should have come here.”
In unison, the voices laughed. An ugly, primal laugh. A cacophony of cackles which rudely transformed into the cawing of ravens.
And then there was silence. Riven slowly opened her eyes.
A flickering light kissed an amalgamation of limbs as a distant fire steadily approached. Soon a sweltering heat engulfed Riven’s skin. It wasn't long before the flames caught up. The smell of burnt flesh was next. A fire crackled and raged around her, accompanied by a bright white pain.
Riven curled herself up, ears covered, arms shaking. Throat now entirely aflame.
And all she could hear was screaming.
Drifting into consciousness, Riven awoke to sounds of sipping and the smell of jasmine tea.
“We couldn’t have known,” said a calming yet strangely chilling voice.
Elder Souma had his eyes closed while he enjoyed the last sunbeams of the afternoon. A spring breeze brought with it the smell of hyacinths. The runic blade lay unscathed upon a table separating the two of them.
“You tried to make things right, Riven, nothing more. Calling atonement a sin? How foolish.” He gave a dry chuckle.
Riven put her palms against the floor. None of this made any sense to her.
“No you’re wrong, this is all wrong… I’m dreaming.”
“What happened was regrettable, yes, but you only did what you thought was right.” The Elder continued as though he hadn’t heard her.
“This isn’t what happened. This isn’t real!”
The elder paused for a moment, mulling something over.
“Why can't you just forgive yourself, Riven.” It was a different voice now. A timid girl’s voice with a peculiar accent.
“I killed — . Who are you, really?”
Riven’s hands lunged for the runic blade but it only fell to pieces. Grasping only the handle now, she turned towards Elder Souma.
The elder was staring through Riven in sadness. He spoke again, but with no emotion, as if a mask had slipped.
“You need to accept it.”
Riven looked around herself. The lights of this dream began to dim but she could still make out a sincere yet solemn expression.
“Ionia will never be your home.”
She forced her eyes open.
“Eep!”
Riven awoke to the sounds of hooves skipping sheepishly away.
Still drowsy, she scanned the clearing for answers but found only silence. One thing was for certain though, the bones had been right from the start.
Her sisters were not here.
END