Chapter Text
Viktor woke, gasping for air.
The silver stars embroidered in an aurora of blue and violet curtains still hung above his head. He was still in the tree house in the forest. He was still lying in the safety of their bed. He focused on the scent of citrus that lingered stubbornly in the air even under starlight. He listened to the soft puffs of breath from his partner as he slept; a sharp and calming contrast to his own.
Beside him Jayce stirred; his brows furrowing ever-so-slightly and his arm wrapping more firmly around Viktor’s middle. Even deep in sleep, he pulled them closer together, and Viktor curled into the warmth of the man’s chest like a lifeline. They no longer needed touch to connect them, for him to feel the strength of their bond flowing strong and centered on the runes emblazoned on their chests. Still, it was better this way, when not even the air came between them and Viktor could press his hands to Jayce’s skin. It was soothing and inviting and Viktor wanted to sink deeper into that welcome embrace.
His dreams had taken a dark turn as of late.
They’d arrived with the new moon like a warning, the nightmares plaguing his rest, even after Jayce had thoroughly worn him out when their bedroom door closed for the evening and they’d indulged themselves in one another until they were sated enough to sleep. No matter how pleasant his days were, he still found himself deep in the Undercity by night; wandering and alone.
No. Not completely alone.
The Man in the Mask was always there, his eyes burning and the soft metallic ring of his footsteps shadowing Viktor’s every step. Viktor could feel the mana radiating off of him in furious waves. He hated it. He recognized it. It reached under his skin and bled seamlessly into the flow of his own.
They were the same, somehow.
The same, but different.
The Man in the Mask was powerful. It was just something Viktor knew to be true–but his magic was wrong; tainted; twisted and malformed, like his mana had been mixed with something darker and infected. It reflected his body–a body much stronger and broader than Viktor’s own. One that seemed to be made of more metal and wires than flesh and bone. He was a nightmare made real, one that shared his hair color and that carried a long brass cane.
As one, they stalked the corridors of the lower city, the streets empty, the people gone. Thick black vines choked the buildings, pulled up the brickwork, and wound their way through broken glass. The violent purple flowers they offered glowed in the gloom of it all, a toxic garden growing freely with no one left to contend it. Above them, through the Gray, flickers of vibrant orange occasionally lit up the atmosphere amid the smell of burning wood and melting steel. Ash and embers rained down on them, settling into a thick grey blanket that carpeted the streets, and the farther they walked, the darker it became until not even the violet light of the flowers could pierce through that absence of light.
Inevitably they came upon her. Or what was left of her. Always at the base of a tree that had no place in a city like Zaun. One that might have been a tall and beautiful thing once, but was now just as gray and dead as everything else around them. And no matter how many times Viktor had prepared himself for that moment, no matter how many times he’d tried to turn away, to keep it from his sight, his amber eyes were drawn to the smattering of torn blue feathers coated in the red of her blood.
He fell to his knees, as he always did, desperate to reach out but unable to bring himself to do so. That was always when Viktor had woken up before; his heart pounding and Jayce pulling him closer until the tremors settled under his skin. Tonight was different, however. Tonight, he’d been stuck in the dream. Tonight, the Man in the Mask had spoken to him.
“Why do you hesitate?” the question had startled Viktor–the man’s accented voice metallic, reverberating; familiar.
“I don’t want this,” Viktor gave his reply, willing himself to wake. “Whatever this is…this future. I don’t want it.”
“Standing still will only make it an inevitability. Fear is your greatest enemy. It will only hold you back.”
“Fear?”
“A powerful, if more often than not limiting emotion,” the man responded coldly. “It only seems insurmountable because of the outcome we expect. When one eliminates the anticipation and fear of pain, it becomes entirely bearable.”
The Man in the Metal Mask flexed the robotic fingers of his left hand, clenching them together before his resolve fell under the sound of something heavy like a sigh; rough and echoing against metal.
“That’s what I’d thought anyway. Before I’d known better. Before I’d lost everything,” the man said quietly. “Fear drove my actions even as I’d thought myself rid of it. I was wrong…in the end. We were such fools. Fear is what really drove us apart. It’s what drove us away from our dream.”
With great effort, he opened his fist, holding its contents out to Viktor. An oddly-shaped stone floated just above his palm. It was green on one side and the unfamiliar rune carved into the center gave off a brilliant light that cut through the darkness surrounding them. A teal glow poured from the side facing away from him, equally blinding. It called to Viktor, far more powerfully than any magic he’d encountered previously. He didn’t doubt it could do far worse than flatten cities. It was like staring into a star.
“I let fear get the better of me, but fear can also be the thing that drives you towards a better solution. It can move the very heavens if you have the resolve to face it. To change it.”
The man advanced on him slowly, the sharp clinking of his limbs and the end of his cane coming to a halt with a disturbing finality when he was right in front of Viktor. This close, Viktor could see the man’s armor looked haggard. The remains of what might have been the chassis of the Hexclaw connected to his shoulder plate: shorn off and sparking. Half the wires in his arm were frayed and the other half were in serious need of replacement. His whole body was battle-worn and scarred; the dark silver plating dull, unpolished, and woefully damaged. He looked…tired.
“I came into my real power too late and by the time I realized what I was…what I could have been and what we could have done to change things…I’d already failed,” the man rasped, his voice growing thin. “Love and legacy weren’t worth sacrificing. It was a bridge I shouldn’t have crossed.”
The runestone in his hand began to dim and crumble away. The man laughed; a dull, sad, depreciating note.
“I really thought I hated him, right up until the moment he was taken away from me. but–I was so wrong, and I’d have done anything to go back and try again,” the Man in the Metal Mask hissed, as he too began to fracture. Both his armor and flesh bore cracks now, like a mirror that had come to a poor end. “It took a lifetime to gather the pieces–to enhance their power– but this was the only way to make things right. I’ve given us a second chance with this–don’t waste it.”
“What–what do you mean?” Viktor called after him.
“There are worse things than heartbreak waiting beneath the Gray,” the man’s voice echoed long after he was gone.
The endless dark around them warped and fell away, and the Man in the Mask crumbled and faded to dust just like the stone. The ground beneath his feet dissolved into nothingness and Viktor felt his stomach drop as he began to fall. He screamed as the world began to rearrange itself under one man’s resolve and everything went black.
Viktor had woken up still feeling the depths of sorrow that flowed through that man in the dream; a melancholy so deep and pained it, overwhelmed him. He clung to Jayce as they lay together beneath soft sheets and the heavy quilt his partner insisted on tucking around them as the weather turned colder. He fought back the sudden need to cry.
It was just a dream. A horrible repeating dream.
But he’d recognized the man’s voice all the same, and it unsettled him.
Jayce was warm and real and breathing beneath his fingers, the rune that bound them shimmering in the center of his chest, and still, Viktor felt the sting of loss. Of losing. Of some deep-seated despair that he had no source for. The mana flowing just beneath his skin began to itch and the need to do something–to do anything–tore at him. Reluctantly, he pressed his lips to Jayce’s mark, his kiss lingering a long moment before he slowly pulled away. Easing himself out from his partner’s embrace, Viktor carefully slid to the edge of the bed and got to his feet. The air was painfully cold in comparison, and he snatched his pile of discarded clothing from the floor where he’d flung each piece in haste earlier.
It was still early yet; the moonlight streaming in from their little window soft and cool. Viktor thought a brisk walk might be just the thing to clear his head. He wrapped the thick lengths of his teal blue scarf around his shoulders alongside the rest of his clothing. From the chair beside the bedroom door, he retrieved the dark length of his leather coat–another of the Ottrani’s gifts. It was long and warm and well fit and Viktor privately thought it was far nicer than any he’d once procured in the city. Illi had taken it upon herself to outfit their small crew for the coming winter. She’d spent her nights after their lessons pulling each one of them aside for measuring and fitting and fussing until they were each properly geared to face all manner of bad weather.
Whatever mage had lived in the tree house previously had unknowingly donated the remains of their wardrobe to her cause as she repurposed old fabric into her newest creations. Viktor had certainly benefitted greatly from her latest obsession, and between the coat and a new set of leather gloves, he took greater interest in spending his days outside the house as the wind grew colder. Even his atrocious teal scarf had grown on him and he was rarely without it.
With one last longing look at the bed and the man who slept within it, Viktor took up his staff and slipped out of the room. He was too keyed up to rest any longer and though he no longer needed to worry about the chronic ache of muscles, he still found it best to get up and move when restlessness took hold.
The tree house was dark and quiet at that hour, but there was one resident Viktor was certain would still be awake and receptive to his company. Snatching a citrus fruit from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, he pocketed his spoils and made his way out the front door and around the garden to Osu’s nest. There was no other term for it really–the stellacorn made his home beneath the remains of an old overhang of wood that had perhaps been some sort of outdoor workstation or gardening area in the past. It was laden with long, soft grasses that had been trampled just so, and were large enough for Osu to curl up in during the day. Yuumi had magicked a plaque above the structure with Osu’s name carved into it before Viktor and Jayce had ever arrived. She’d told him once she’d done it so the stellacorn would always know where he could rest his head after a long night of flying. Those sorts of things mattered to the little cat, which Viktor came to understand when he’d found a matching one outside the door to their bedroom which simply read “Talis”.
To Viktor’s delight, Osu wasn’t off in the skies somewhere just then, and the shimmering white of the stellacorn’s coat greeted him as he neared, no doubt already alerted to his arrival by the scent of citrus Viktor held in his pocket. The gluttonous creature was quick to trot over to his side and nuzzle his arm with a snort.
“Your manners are atrocious, Osu,” Viktor chuckled softly. “You could at least pretend to say hello first.”
Osu snorted again rubbing his head up the side of Viktor’s arm and nipping at his hair. It was long enough to tie back now–a fact Viktor might have lamented if Jayce didn’t take so much joy in sorting it out for him each morning. Personally, he thought he looked ridiculous with the little half ponytail, but at least he was in good company. His partner’s smart cut had long since grown shaggy and though he’d trimmed his beard, he’d yet to shave it completely off. Ezreal never let either of them live down their unkempt appearances, but Viktor had grown accustomed to running his fingers through the lengths of Jayce’s hair and he was loath to part with it now. It certainly gave him more to pull when they were tangled up in one another.
Piece by piece he broke the citrus apart, the simple pleasure of watching Osu devour each section calming him. He’d enjoyed doing the same with Rio once; had enjoyed taking care of her, of being able to do something useful for someone else, of being needed. He regretted the part he’d played in her suffering now–because Viktor was sure she’d been suffering. Had he been older and stronger and more equipped to truly help her, she would never have ended up behind the glass in a lab. He’d have made sure of it. Looking back, Viktor couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been truly dying from the start, or if the violet plants had really been what’d caused her decline. Knowing he’d only assisted in her destruction ate at him.
Osu gave a soft huff and a short bray, nudging his nose against the front of Viktor’s coat.
“I’m sorry,” Viktor said. “There is no more, you’ve eaten it all.”
The stellacorn snorted and shook his head before rubbing the length of his muzzle over Viktor’s shoulder and stamping his hoof. He wasn’t looking for more citrus. The moonlight reflected off Osu’s horn and Viktor could feel magic beginning to gather; cool and light as the stars.
“A-ah…no, no. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream,” Viktor’s words came quieter this time. Tentatively, he brought his hands up to stroke Osu’s neck, the stellacorn’s feather-soft pelt a soothing balm against his fingers. “I thought you might like some company.”
One of Osu’s large wings unfurled from where it’d been folded to his back. It was a beautiful, graceful motion that curled forward until his long feathers encircled Viktor and pressed in.
“I appreciate it,” Viktor whispered. “The more we linger here, the more I feel something calling me back to the city. That it’s imperative I return and soon. I think…something’s happened. Something important–and I can’t shake the feeling I had a hand in it. That I need to fix it.”
Viktor snorted.
“Arrogant, I know. Perhaps Jayce’s ego is rubbing off on me.”
Osu trilled and stepped back from him, glancing toward the sky. Viktor felt foolish in the loss of his warmth, wrapping his arm around himself and shivering. Illi often said that stellacorns were fickle creatures. It was just in their nature. Much as Viktor thought the creature’s understanding of the world was vast, Osu was still driven by instinct and fancy.
“Ah, I did not mean to bore you with my troubles. No doubt you have places to be,” he said, nodding towards the stars. “Go on then. There’s still time before sunrise.”
Osu tilted his head at Viktor and shook out his mane. Circling the little paddock, he came to a stop with his side in front of Viktor and knelt down. It was a clear invitation. Viktor’s first.
“I…I couldn’t,” he breathed out. “That would be…”
That would be a dream one step too far. The kind of thing he might have jumped at the chance to do when he was a child. Jayce notwithstanding–the only thing he’d ever ridden was a trolley–and while he might have envied how easy Illi made the whole thing seem when she occasionally went off with Osu into the night, Viktor couldn’t imagine he’d be able to hold on if he tried.
Still, the idea was enticing and one that he was becoming more open to the longer Osu waited for him to climb on. His fingers twitched in want of movement. He glanced around the garden, a nervous delaying tactic while his mind worked through the details. The longer he hesitated, the more the Man in the Mask’s words from his dream echoed through his head.
“Why do you hesitate?”
Why, indeed.
“Alright,” he finally conceded, setting his staff by the overhand, before carefully swinging a leg over Osu’s back. “Just for a little while, but take it easy on me–!”
Viktor barely had time to grasp hold of Osu’s mane. The stellacorn rose the moment he was settled and in a short gallop and a hard flap of his shining wings, they were off. The sharp bite of the frosted air nipped at his cheeks as they rose higher and higher and Viktor clung to Osu desperately, the sudden fear of falling flooding his veins anew. They were higher than the clouds now, higher than the bridge, and as the rush of wind evened out into a steady breeze and Osu settled into an easy glide parallel to the ground, Viktor finally took a breath and opened his eyes.
The world was made of stars.
Just like in his mother’s stories.
Osu glanced back at him and trilled and what started as a nervous titter in Viktor’s throat became a long and booming laugh that echoed through the night sky.
“This is incredible!” he crowed against the wind. “I can see why you do this every night.”
The world below them looked so small, yet so vast–an endless landscape rolling out below the curtain of clouds and stars they flew by. It was freeing; exhilarating. It was just like he’d always dreamed it’d be.
With an amused sounding nicker, Osu reared up into the wind and dove down, Viktor’s stomach rising into his throat and his adrenaline pumping through his veins just to hold on. The scream that tore from his mouth as the wind whipped by them became something like a cheer and Viktor found himself breathless from laughing by the end of it. The stellacorn flew on, over the forest to the inlet of the sea, and Viktor had never felt quite so small yet alive in his entire life. He wondered if this was how his mother felt when crossing the sea. If she’d been called to the water as he’d been called to the air and felt humbled by it. He wondered if she’d found what she’d been searching for or if her journey had been cut short of her goal.
With a shift of his wings, Osu circled back. They retraced the inlet leading up to the city, over the wastelands that lay just south of the Undercity and up to the distant lights of Piltover. It was beautiful in its own way. A natural bridge between the two continents, built high above where the water bisected it. From the air, it looked like a single nation; a picture that could only be complete when one took in the whole view. It was invigorating; inspiring; and entirely wrong.
“What is that?” Viktor murmured as they flew by.
In the lower regions of Zaun, bright orange flashes could be seen through the thick layer of Gray with darker plumes of smoke rising up in snaking tendrils towards the sky. The scent of fire, of smoke, of burning filled the air and the closer Osu flew, Viktor realized there was ash in the wind.
“Osu, circle around!” Viktor cried out and the stellacorn shifted.
Over the city they flew, and below them, Viktor could make out several dark shapes in the heights of Piltover that shouldn’t have been there, along with the absence of one thing that should have been.
Airships. Three of them, each bigger than the next. Ones that weren’t run by the grace of Hextech–ones that didn’t look anything like Jayce’s sleek designs. The black and red flags of Noxus hung heavily over the city; long, foreboding banners clinging to the buildings and snaking off the flagpoles, the largest of which flowed down the remains of the Council’s tower, the top of which was half in ruin right where the chamber should have been.
Though Osu maintained a safe distance, Viktor could see enough to know the city had changed in their absence and not for the better. Mel Medarda’s words came back to haunt him; the kingdom she’d spoken of that day in the hospital room seemed a lifetime away just then. He wondered where the Councilor was now and if she was safe. He wondered if she’d already given her life in the face of opposition to her dream.
The Noxians had been one of Piltover’s trade partners; a relationship that had been strengthened through the building of the Hexgates. It was a tentative friendship between nations, however, one built upon usefulness and a mutual agreement. Noxus was a land of conquerors and it seemed the grace period of peace Piltover had once secured to protect their borders had run out.
“We have to get back to the others!” Viktor called to Osu as they took another turn of the city’s skyline.
Osu gave a sharp trill in response, his great wings catching the wind and redirecting their course back to the forest. Viktor kept watch over his shoulder, even as the city lights faded beyond his view. The memory of his dream cut fresh and the same unease he’d felt walking through the burning streets of the Undercity with the Man in the Mask at his heels drew his dread forth once more.
They needed to return to the city. They needed to return now–before it was too late and only the darkness of his nightmares remained.
The sight of the tree house through the clouds brought less comfort than Viktor had hoped for and as Osu started his circling descent to the garden, Viktor saw someone already awake and waiting for them there.
They’d barely alighted to the forest floor before he was sliding haphazardly from Osu’s back to the ground. Literally, to the ground, as he felt the rune brace on his right leg shiver and his knee gave out. He fell forward into the soft surface of Osu’s offered wing, the stellacorn chiding him with a sharp trill and a shake of his head as it helped Viktor to right himself. If his heart hadn’t already been pounding before, it certainly was now. It made him feel dizzy and out of breath.
“Viktor?”
Jayce advanced on him the moment he was back on his feet, wrapping the thick quilt he wore around Viktor’s narrow shoulders as he caught him in a strong embrace. He smelled of sleep and crisp, cold air and that scent that was undeniably Jayce. Viktor wondered how long he’d been standing out there under the sky; waiting for him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he started, curling into Jayce’s warmth and running a soothing hand over his chest.
He could feel the turmoil rolling through their connection. It tugged at his gut and ached.
“What happened?” Jayce said, his voice rough and uncertain. “I could feel…you were so scared just now and you weren’t in the bed. You felt so far from here. Was it the dreams again?”
“Not just the dreams,” Viktor murmured, holding Jayce tight to keep from shaking. “Osu took me over the city. I think…I think we need to wake the others.”
He felt the muscles in Jayce’s back stiffen under his fingers and something ice cold and wary bleeding between them.
“We will. Just give me a moment,” Jayce gave a stuttering nod. “Stay with me for a moment.”
“Just for a moment,” Viktor agreed even as his fingers dug into the rumpled linen of Jayce’s unbuttoned shirt.
He felt Jayce tremble against him; a violent and uncontrollable surge of desperation mixing with the sense of his own. They were barreling towards an edge again, one they’d no doubt follow each other over, even without knowing what awaited them on the other side. Viktor could only hope their bond held true and they wouldn’t lose each other in the fall.
“I love you, you know that,” Jayce mumbled into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss to his chilled skin in punctuation. “I need you to know that.”
“I do,” Viktor nodded and breathed him in.
“And no matter what happens, we stick together,” Jayce whispered.
“Together,” Viktor agreed.
Jayce held him tighter, his fingers pressing into the skin beside the brass bolts in his spine. “I mean it, Viktor. Promise me. I need to hear you say it.”
“I promise,” he breathed. “We’ll stay together.”
It was as much a hope as it was a vow, one that Viktor was desperate to hold onto. He wasn’t willing to lose Jayce; not now. Not ever.
The world would know the depths of his sorrow should that day ever come to pass.
Slowly, Jayce pulled back, pressing in again until their lips met in a fierce hold that spoke volumes more than his words ever could. Again and again, he slotted their mouths together, Viktor meeting him in the middle eagerly until they were both dazed and left breathing each other’s air.
“Just stay with me,” he murmured again as if words alone could make it so.
“I promise,” Viktor said between softer kisses. “I will try.”
And while he knew that wasn’t good enough for Jayce–honest as it was–he knew the man accepted it, the same way he knew it pained him to pull away.
“Then let’s wake the others,” Jayce said. “And we’ll figure out where to go from there.”
Together, they made their way back to the tree house, Jayce clinging to his hand with his own and never more than a step from Viktor’s side. He could feel the unease pouring off him in waves, but focused on the strong current of resolve beneath it all. Together, they could survive this. Together, they could survive anything.
Viktor had to believe that to move forward.