Demacia True Face

"One week, one damned week," I muttered, gazing at the imposing gates of the Great City of Demacia, the capital of the kingdom. The gates, immaculate and grand, loomed over us as the guards granted us passage without hesitation.

"Here we are," Luxanna sighed, her gaze drifting toward the gates.

As we passed through, I couldn't help but notice the awe in the eyes of the civilians who caught sight of the Dauntless Vanguard emblem adorning our banners. Hundreds of onlookers parted to allow us passage toward the north of the city.

Tianna rode up beside me, her expression thoughtful. "We're heading straight to meet the king. The meeting with him and all the noble houses has been scheduled."

"Isn't this a bit too hasty?" I questioned.

She responded with a smile. "Well, the king and the prince were insistent on meeting the two of you. I received word that we should ride immediately to the palace."

I narrowed my eyes as I glanced around, noticing mageseekers casting suspicious looks our way.

"It seems our presence has garnered quite a bit of interest," I remarked to the Marshall. Hearing my observation, she scanned the area and spotted the mageseekers, her teeth gritting in frustration before she turned back to me.

"They won't dare make a move in His Majesty's presence," she assured me.

With Vagran, myself, and the Crownguards in tow, we made our way towards the enormous castle, its imposing structure carved from solid rock, a truly magnificent sight.

"You Demacians are such peculiar beings," Vagran commented as we entered the castle, surrounded by heavily armored guards and mageseekers. "You possess an advanced civilization and yet discriminate against mages and foreigners. Irony," he concluded with a disdainful scoff.

I eyed him with a frown as the others in our procession glared at him with thinly veiled hostility.

"And what exactly do you know about us?" came the voice of a young man, flanked by a dozen guards. As he approached, many in our group bowed.

"Your Highness!" Tianna exclaimed, bowing respectfully. The young man smiled at everyone but his gaze toward Vagran carried a hint of heat.

'So he is Prince Jarvan,' I thought to myself as I observed him. He exuded regal demeanor, yet his powerful physique hinted at martial prowess.

Vagran sneered as he glanced at the Prince. "I know enough to stand by what I said."

The tension among the people surrounding us was palpable. Even I felt a knot of discomfort in my stomach. Insulting the kingdom while being granted an audience with the king, and in front of the prince no less, seemed like a reckless path to take. There were certainly better ways to court disaster than to provoke the ire of Demacia's royal family.

"Your Highness, please forgive Vagran's words," I interjected swiftly, aiming to defuse the tension. "He has a tendency to speak his mind without much thought."

The Prince grunted in response before turning to lead the way. "Follow me," he ordered. "But mind your words in the Throne Room. Not everyone is as forgiving as I am."

With that cautionary remark, we followed the Prince. Vagran glared daggers at me during the whole walk. Was he angry that I interjected in his way of antagonizing the Prince ?

As we approached a pair of heavily guarded doors, my mind momentarily cleared. The doors swung open to reveal a grand chamber filled with around a hundred lavishly dressed individuals. At the opposite end of the room sat an elderly man upon a throne. I sighed as I recognized some familiar faces among the attendees. There was Xin Zhao, standing near the king as his guard, Fiora the swordswoman, Sona the muse, and Quinn the scout, all positioned near the king, reflecting their families esteemed status within the Demacian Hierarchy.

Beside the king's throne sat a smaller one, occupied by a purple-skinned woman adorned with scales, exuding an unmistakable aura of fire magic.

"Shyvana," I mused silently as I caught sight of her. However, when I turned my gaze towards Vagran, I noticed his intense scrutiny directed towards the half-dragon.

As the prince strode past us and settled onto his throne, a hush fell over the room. Our delegation, save for Vagran and myself, knelt before the assembled nobles. I, as a king, did not bow to other sovereigns. As for Vagran, well, he simply lacked in courtesy, nothing more.

"Before you sits King Jarvan Lightshield the Third, rightful ruler of Demacia and defender of the Kingdom!" declared one of the spokespersons below the throne. "Present yourselves!"

I was about to step forward, but a voice boomed before me.

"I am Vagran, Tyrant of Ur-Ganash and leader of the Legion of Destruction, Champion of Urgash!" The demon's powerful voice reverberated throughout the room, commanding attention from all present.

Maintaining my impassive facade, I inwardly frowned at Vagran's flamboyant introduction. Such grandiose displays were hardly appropriate for this setting.

"I am Lucas Aldaric, King of the Holy Falcon Kingdom, of House Aldaric," I announced firmly, my voice cutting through the murmurs that echoed within the chamber. "Champion of Elrath and rightful ruler of Humanity and Angels."

Jarvan III nodded with a smile, raising his hand to silence the assembly before us.

"Then, my friends," he began, "I have summoned you here to inquire about the reason for your presence within my territory without prior announcement."

I pondered his question for a moment before responding, "Vagran and I were exploring ruins on another continent when we were unexpectedly teleported here during our excavations."

As whispers rippled through the room once more, a man stepped forward from the crowd.

"Esteemed guests," he addressed us, his tone tinged with suspicion, "I've heard rumors that you possess magic, something strictly forbidden within our borders."

"And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" I inquired, turning my attention to the blond man. Behind me, I sensed Vagran's disapproval.

"Antoine Laurent, from House Laurent," he replied. The Laurents were known for their mastery of the sword, particularly their renowned technique, the Dance of the Laurent, rumored to be lethal in any combat scenario.

"Then, Antoine," I addressed him directly, "would you advocate for imprisoning us for the grave crimes of aiding your kingdom in imprisoning a millennium-old demon and saving a city?"

As Antoine reddened with apparent shame, snickers rippled through the crowd. He quickly regained his composure and responded to my query with a forced smile.

"No, of course not," he began, "we wouldn't dream of imprisoning foreign kings. However, a small compensation for any inconvenience caused would be appreciated."

Before I could formulate a response, Vagran's voice cut through the air, filled with incredulity.

"Are you serious right now?" he exclaimed. "We saved your sorry asses from that pitiful excuse of a demon, and this is how we're repaid?"

I clenched my teeth, realizing this was a test. Antoine's provocations were deliberate, designed to gauge our responses. Fiora's lack of intervention confirmed it; she was observing our reactions closely, as were the other important nobles of Demacia and the king himself.

"Such uncouth language!" Antoine retorted, echoing the sentiments of those gathered in the room.

"This is the result of allowing rabid beasts like mages into our sacred institutions!" declared an elderly man, joined by Tianna, her husband perhaps ? She cast sympathetic glances in our direction. Lux and Garen mirrored her expressions, though Garen's stoicism couldn't entirely hide his concern.

Vagran's simmering anger was palpable, tendrils of fire escaping from his nostrils with each breath, causing nearby nobles to recoil in fear.

"Then perhaps, Antoine," I replied with a frosty smile, "you could enlighten us as to what kind of compensation your house desires, despite the fact that our actions have hardly made a ripple in your precious territory."

As the words left my lips, I began to fully comprehend the true nature of this place. It was a cesspool of opportunists, vultures circling, eager to tear us down. But why? Simply because we possessed magic? I had assumed they would greet us with care and appreciation, recognizing the potential alliance our kingdoms could offer in resisting the looming threat of Noxus. Instead, they spat in our faces, content to revel in their own petty politics.

I exhaled deeply, feeling a mix of disappointment and disgust wash over me. My hopes of forging an alliance with Demacia and potentially bridging our worlds seemed increasingly futile in the face of their petty ambitions.

"For compensation, perhaps the riches of your kingdoms will suffice," Antoine replied smugly, his words hanging heavily in the air as the room fell silent, awaiting our response.

Vagran trembled beside me, his anger boiling over as his eyes turned a fiery crimson and his skin paled.

"Are you implying that we should offer our riches when we were the ones who saved your kingdom?" Vagran's voice thundered, his stature growing with each passing moment.

I stood there, unmoved and indifferent to the tense atmosphere. Demacia had shown its true colors, treating us as nothing more than tools to further their own agendas. Even Tianna, whom I had considered a friend, seemed to have betrayed me.

A bitter taste lingered in my mouth as I reflected on my own naivety. What had I been thinking, believing that a kingdom steeped in xenophobia and anti-magic sentiment would welcome us with open arms? They were content to use us, discard us, and treat us as nothing more than inconveniences.

"Vagran, enough," I intervened, my tone firm. "Thank you for this gracious audience, King Jarvan the Third. However, it appears that we are not welcome within your esteemed halls."

The king's frown deepened, accompanied by gasps of disbelief from the assembled nobles. But I refused to allow their disapproval to sway my resolve. We were not mere pawns to be toyed with, and I would not tolerate being treated as such.

As we turned to leave, we were met by the sight of guards entering the room, blocking our path.

"What is the meaning of this, King of Demacia? Is this a declaration of war?" I demanded, my voice laced with venom. Beside me, Vagran's form shifted back into his demonic armor, a low growl escaping him.

"War? There will be no war. You are no kings," King Jarvan replied, his voice dripping with disdain. "I have never heard of any kingdoms like yours. You are merely mages posing as kings to deceive us."

"You are short-sighted," I retorted angrily, attempting to summon my magic, only to find it stifled by the pervasive presence of petricite surrounding us.

"Vagran," I called out as the demon charged towards the guards, his movements noticeably slower due to the constant drain on his mana. I summoned a sword, deflecting a strike from one of the guards before swiftly countering, my blade finding its mark.

In the midst of the chaos, I felt a sharp pain as Fiora's sword grazed my cheek, drawing blood. I sighed as I saw Lux speaking to Tianna, focusing on the fight at hand. As I attempted to parry more strikes from Fiora, I realized my shortcomings as a swordsman. Soon, she disarmed me, her rapier finding its mark in my left leg. Despite the pain, I refused to show her any satisfaction.

Suddenly, a blur came from behind me. Reacting quickly, I dodged, watching as Vagran hurled a body in my direction, colliding with Fiora and sending her flying.

I turned to see Vagran swiftly dispatching the guards, his aid allowing me to stand despite my injuries. With a determined rush, he propelled us towards one of the windows of the throne room, shattering it and sending us tumbling from the heights of King's Rock.

As we fell, I heard the blurred commands of the king, but I paid them little heed. Sensing the absence of petricite, I conjured a magnificent eagle made of light to serve as our mount, carrying us swiftly away from the capital.

"Valor!" A cry pierced through the air as an enormous azure eagle descended upon us.

[Elrath's Fury]

An explosion of blinding light engulfed us, knocking the azure eagle from the sky along with our pursuers.

[Gate]

With a swift manipulation of space, I conjured a portal, and we hurried through it, vanishing from sight in an instant. But just as we thought we had escaped, a sense of foreboding washed over me, prompting me to glance back.

To my surprise, I found a woman with a veil and two purple wings gazing at us.

"I think we need to talk, outsiders," her melodic voice rang out, offering a strange sense of comfort as I felt my injuries begin to heal.

"Oh, by Urgash's chaotic ass," Vagran muttered crudely behind me. "Another formidable adversary."

I sighed, knowing full well the power of the veiled lady. If we were to face her, we would need to utilize every ounce of strength and magic at our disposal. This time, there would be no room for hesitation or holding back.

–

That'll be all for today, hope you liked the chapter, I tried to portray how a regime like Demacia would treat people like Vagran and Lucas,

See you soon :)