Fae'lor Incident

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In the days that followed, turmoil spread far and wide due to the disturbance in Piltover.

Other small kingdoms and regions began to feel the strength of the City of Progress.

Despite being a city-state, Piltover's power was comparable to that of a nation, save for the vast influence of the mainland.

Meanwhile, in Zaun, a new darkness quickly overshadowed the heavy cloud of uncertainty that had just begun to lift.

The death of the chem-baron Silco brought mixed reactions—some silently celebrated his fall, while others sighed in resignation.

Yet, hope still flickered in Zaun, for its people had a leader: Viktor.

The citizens of Zaun firmly believed that under his visionary leadership, they would one day achieve a future as brilliant as that of their neighbors above.

In Piltover, grief lingered over the deaths caused by recent events.

However, the display of their military strength provided reassurance to the populace.

Confidence radiated from Piltovans as they walked the streets, their faces reflecting pride when interacting with visitors from other regions.

A few days later, the Noxian embassy received an unexpected visitor.

Ryan sat at his desk, his sharp gaze fixed on Mel Medarda, who stood before him representing her family.

Taking a deliberate sip of tea, he addressed her with an edge to his tone:

"Piltover seems to be in quite a frenzy lately. I didn't expect you to find time to visit me, Counilor Medarda."

He put a pointed emphasis on the word councilor, and the mockery was thinly veiled.

This reception was far less cordial than the one extended to Camille.

Unlike Camille, Mel wasn't even offered a seat during their meeting.

Yet, Mel considered herself fortunate not to have been turned away entirely.

As an outcast of the Medarda family, Mel's status within Noxus was tenuous at best.

Despite her position as a senator, she lacked the influence or standing necessary even to gain entry to the embassy without effort.

Mel bowed slightly, her movements precise and respectful, her voice calm yet deferential:

"The demonstration of strength was a resounding success. The people are confident in Piltover's resilience. Once the mourning period for the fallen is complete, everything will return to normal."

Ryan's expression didn't change, but his next question cut through the air like a blade.

"I heard that Mrs. Kiramman, the former councilor, perished during the attack."

"Yes," Mel replied softly.

"She was shot through the heart by Jinx's bullet. Her daughter, Miss Caitlyn, is devastated, but she has taken over her mother's seat. I believe she will recover in time."

Ryan leaned back slightly, his voice tinged with amusement as he remarked:

"The head of a family and its heirs should never stand beneath a crumbling wall, no matter their strength or wisdom. Some, however, possess neither."

He took another sip of tea, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"The tea I'm drinking comes from Fae'lor. Despite the land being tainted by dark magic, the tea leaves that grow there have a uniquely enchanting aroma. I've grown fond of it."

Mel's body tensed as she listened. After carefully choosing her words, she spoke with measured respect:

"My mother has informed me about my brother's actions. We deeply regret what has happened."

Ryan's smirk widened slightly as he set his cup down.

"Your brother acted hastily. He'll need more than ambition if he truly wishes to claim the fief the empire granted me. Perhaps he believes he can seize it before the Lesser garrison erases my presence from Runeterra?"

His eyes gleamed as he added:

"Or does your family think my absence would make the Fae'lor an easy conquest? Why not reflect on why Ionia, a region that despises Noxian influence, has tolerated me maintaining control of land within their sacred borders?"

Mel lowered her head further, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

Just days ago, during the Piltover Square incident, her elder brother—the heir to the Medarda family—had led their forces to the Fae'lor in Ionia.

Located to the northwest of the Ionian mainland, Fae'lor was the first Ionian territory Ryan had captured during the war.

The island, ravaged by alchemical fumes and magic after years of conflict, became Ryan's fiefdom as compensation when he retired from the Noxian military.

What once had been an imperial fortress was now a castle guarded by Ryan's loyal veterans and Swain's elite forces.

Mel understood her brother's motivations. He sought to prove the Medarda family's dominance over the Eastern Front and assert himself by challenging Ryan, the former vice commander.

It was also an attempt to earn recognition from the Emperor.

But in his eagerness to make a bold statement, he had underestimated the sheer strength and foresight of the man before her.

Who in Noxus did not know of the current state of the Empire? Ryan's position was precarious, and no one could say for certain if he still harbored loyalty to the empire.

What they did know, however, was his dissatisfaction with the current emperor, Boram Darkwill.

Mel couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Her brother's recklessness was beyond what she could have imagined.

He hadn't even paused to consider the consequences before sending troops to Fae'lor.

The Medarda family had long since lost the glory of their ancestors.

What did they have to challenge someone like Ryan?

Her brother's feeble strategic mind and frail body? It was laughable.

Lowering her posture slightly, she bowed and handed Ryan a scroll.

"Your Excellency, this is the apology from the Medarda family. We sincerely hope you and the mage stationed on Fae'lor can forgive his transgressions."

She had already met with her mother and gleaned that her brother was gone.

The family's forces had suffered catastrophic losses.

It was said that only a single mage from Fae'lor had intervened, yet that alone had annihilated nearly half of the Medarda family's forces.

The absurdity of it all was almost unbearable. Not only had the Medardas failed to claim anything, but now they had to offer reparations and grovel for forgiveness.

Ryan took the scroll, opened it with a glance, and tossed it aside with an air of indifference.

"Your family was once among the most prestigious in Noxus. But your mother's talents lie only on the battlefield. What the Medardas lack is someone capable of making real decisions within the family."

Mel kept her head bowed, her voice soft and measured.

My mother aligns well with Noxian ideals in her decision-making.

Ryan chuckled lightly, leaning back.

"The ideals of the empire remain unwavering, but your mother should have come here herself. She traveled all the way from Ionia yet refused to enter the city, instead staying aboard an airship miles away. Tell me, what is she so afraid of?"

"She is grieving my brother's death. This is not the time for her to appear in public."

Mel's tone was respectful but couldn't fully mask her uncertainty.

She didn't know if her mother's grief was genuine.

During their earlier meeting, Mel had seen only fear in her mother's eyes—fear of Fae'lor and the retaliation it promised.

Her mother believed that the Medardas could not withstand the repercussions of their actions.

Yet, no matter the reluctance, her mother should have been the one to face Ryan today.

"As a general, your mother surely knew of her heir's reckless movements. While I doubt she orchestrated this, her negligence is evident. She's more suited to the vanguard, charging into battle than managing the complexities of a noble house."

Ryan's gaze flicked to the ring on Mel's finger, the symbol of her family's legacy. His voice turned cold.

"Your brother has paid the price. The scroll demonstrates your sincerity, but not everyone would grant your family another chance. Consider that carefully."

"Medarda has other capable successors," Mel replied, her voice steady though her mind churned.

She pictured the potential heirs, their faces flashing one by one in her thoughts, only to dismiss each of them.

She understood Ryan's words but was content with her role in Piltover.

Yet, doubt crept into her mind—thoughts she had long suppressed.

Her empty hand drifted to the ring on her finger, her expression darkening.

Perhaps her mother truly wasn't fit to lead.

Her mother abandoned her long ago, but maybe she wasn't entirely wrong.

Ryan watched her closely, his faint smile never faltering. He didn't press further, instead gesturing toward the scroll.

"The war between Noxus and Ionia is far from over. Your mother's skills are still needed there. As for your generous gift of a thousand grimoires, send them to Fortress on Fae'lor Island."

"Thank you, Your Excellency. Should you require anything else, the Medarda family is prepared to assist unconditionally."

"For now, that will be enough. Tell your mother I hope to drink with her at Immortal Bastion one day."

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Mel bowed deeply, murmured her thanks, and left the embassy.

She climbed into her mechanical car and ordered the driver to head for the airport.

As the embassy faded into the distance, her heart twisted with self-reproach.

Her brother was dead, yet the family stood paralyzed, directionless.

If they had been so afraid of Ryan's retaliation, why provoke him in the first place?

This... This was the path of the weak, those who lacked the self-awareness to understand their place.

And the path of the weak was always paved with sorrow.