Chapter Text
Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t, it couldn’t be. All his life Jayce Talis had been searching for answers, needing explanations to the wonder he knew since he was a child. Magic, the Arcane, wasn’t just for those blessed with the power of Magedom, but was attainable for the everyday man. It had to be. If not, why had that stranger saved him all those years ago? Why did they gift him this rune, the first clue to the secrets of magic itself? And now, his research was ruined. Not by his own folly or meddling of the council but some undercity kids who messed with things they don’t understand. And now, Jayce was paying for it since one had died.
It was awful, but the young, driven scientist couldn’t help but feel bitter as he watched his study get emptied of years of hard work. Golden, tired eyes watched the policemen as they carried his life in boxes, as they took careful steps to avoid the blood-stained wood where a body once laid. No child would have gotten their hands on an unstable crystal, blown up half the building, and he could have continued to work under the academy’s nose if they just stayed out of his way.
✷
To have his life’s work taken and destroyed was more devastating than if the council had banished him. Killed him, even. A decade of love and ambition poured into countless hours of research, all gone in a bang.
The young scientist, the only surviving child of house Talis, had endless possibilities because of his talent and ingenuity that seemed innate. Despite the rather simple inventions of collapsible pocket wrenches and hammers so strong they often outlived their owners, none of that mattered, now. A young girl was dead and so was he.
Now that the trial was over, so was any police intervention or guarding of the space. Jayce entered the apartment building with ease— to any passersby, he seemed like any other tennant who might have been checking on the state of their belongings while repairs were being done. But Jayce wasn’t there to pick up belongings. Instead, he walked into the apartment with a letter in hand. Once he got into his former apartment for the last time he simply stared at the walls and ripped-up floors, eyes puffy.
How, just a few days earlier, he was feeling an imminent breakthrough. Hextech was imminent; harnessing the power of the Arcane was so close he could taste it. Now the walls were blank besides the remnants of debris, schematics torn down for evidence, and tables cleared of all number of tools and artifacts. Now all that was left was rubble and his shattered dreams.
The most glaring symbol of Jayce Talis’ ruin was the hole blasted in the side of the building, cool air wafting through. Jayce approached it and couldn’t bring himself to look at the ruddy stain on the ground as he stepped over the fallen beams. It wasn’t really his fault, it really wasn’t.
He was dead. Jayce Talis, the young scientist and patron of house Kiramman, was no more. He was stripped of anything that gave him meaning, of purpose. What was one more blood stain? Jayce laid the letter in the table, the red of the seal of his house sucking in all light that dared to stay. Within that letter are all the feelings, bundled up in neat script so unlike the words in his mind. Apologies, firstly, to his mother. To the council. Pleading that, despite the tragedy that followed his mistakes, they do not destroy everything. That magic was the key to making the world better even if his hands couldn't be the one to shape that figure. He was sorry, so so sorry.
With slow, careful precision that was unlike the headstrong inventor, Jayce removed the leather band from his wrist. It was the symbol of all he wanted to become, the dreams that would never be realized. The blue rune glittered in the low light even now, unaware of the darkness surrounding this moment. He stared at the stone, the firsts and last piece of magic he would ever touch.
Jayce closed his eyes as the cool breeze wafted over his face, the tears lining his eyes like ice never falling. His feet started to graze the edge of the hole, the open air waiting. He was dead, he was already dead.
Always the first to charge into a challenge or complex equation, this was no different. Hours upon hours of ruminating and calculating meant this was the only option for him left. Jayce took several steps forward, towards oblivion. Just before his feet met open air a voice cut through the tension.
“Am I interrupting?”
Another person startled Jayce and he stumbled back, the overwhelming emptiness evolving into rage. At himself, the council, the Kirammens, and now, the stranger.
“The hell’s your problem?” Jayce asked as he wiped his nose, turning to the voice. When he saw it was Heimerdinger’s assistant holding some papers a new kind of frustration blossomed in his aching chest. “What’s this? Another list with my name on it?”
The man gave Jayce a nonchalant shrug, fingering through the pages. “Actually, yes, but only because you signed your notes,” he gestured with the notebook for emphasis, “Every page, I might add. Eh, a little egotistical, don’t you think?”
‘Oh, he has jokes,’ Jayce thought, his patient long past thin. “Is what why you came? To insult me?” Jayce snapped, tired of the inquisitions and prodding and judgment from everyone in this godforsaken city.
Jayce turned away from the man before he saw the mournful expression as he shook his head. “No, no, I was…” he said as he started to approach Jayce, his walk lumbering with the use of the cane, “I was intrigued by what you said at the trial.”
“That makes you the only one.”
“Yes, well, I wanted to talk about your work. This Hextech theory of yours,” he spoke with an curious urgency Jayce knew well, the need for understanding that trumped all else.
“It’s not a theory,” he started as he turned around to look the stranger in his eyes, Jayce’s voice lifting with the passion that was nearly snuffed out by a wayward step, “I saw with my own eyes what magic can do, the lives it could save.” He paused, looking in the golden eyes of the man across from him, hoping his words were not falling on deaf ears like they had in the trial, “You’ve no idea how beautiful it is. And now it’s gone. No one believed me.”
Turning away, Jayce looked back out through the hole in his former home, out into the city that was more than eager to throw him away.
“Nobody’s ever believed in me,” said the stranger, voice tender, his words caught delicately on his tongue from the accent. He came closer and stood beside Jayce, now looking out, “A poor cripple from the undercity. I was an outsider the moment I stepped foot in Piltover. I didn’t have the benefits of a patron or a name. I simply believed in myself.”
As he spoke, Jayce couldn’t help but peek over at the man. He spoke so carefully and sincerely, though never small. How different the young Talis was than him, having both name and patron that allowed him opportunities, yet squandered. How this man, confident in ways Jayce wasn’t, knew how to use his own experiences not to put down the young inventor but show a likeness. Sympathetic in its most basic form.
“Which is why I’m here because I think you’re on to something,” he continued, meeting Jayce’s gaze with that infallible strength, “I want to help you complete your research.”
The vote of confidence made Jayce’s heart pound in his chest, even more than standing on the edge did. To have someone believe in him meant more than he could express, those tears welling back up. “No one thinks it can be done.”
“When you’re going to change the world, don’t ask for permission,” said the man, no longer a stranger. He looked into Jayce’s eyes, golden eyes burning like the sun even in the moonlight. Then, wordlessly, he held out that leather bracelet with the rune embedded. Jayce stared down at his bracelet, that tether to a dream that was doomed to fail. He reached out, hand hovering over the other man’s, questioning if he should take it.
A vision of himself in this same moment burned into Jayce. Maybe it would happen a moment or in another world, but in this idea he took the leather band, his fingers grazing the warm palm of the stranger. How he squeezed the bracelet tight, resolve to forge a better future burning in his soul.
But that wasn’t this reality. Instead, Jayce couldn’t help but look at that spot he pointedly avoided. Blood, soaked up by the wood like it was made to be that rusty black. Heimerdinger’s words rang in his ears, warning of interfering with powers unknown by mortal men. Jayce knew it could be done, seeing it with his own eyes as a child, but… His hand fell to his side.
“I… I can’t…” he conceded, tears falling down his cheeks.
The stranger’s expression fell, looking at Jayce with pity. “What a shame. I thought you and I could really do something extraordinary.”
“Maybe we can,” Jayce let out, breathless, “Even without Hextech. You saw something in me, maybe we can help the world in other ways.”
“Maybe so,” he said, closing the notes and sighing, the darkness starting to creep in, “but that is what man has been trying to do for millennia. I didn’t take you for a person so easily swayed by simple warnings, from fear. With some adjustments to your calculations, I believe it could work. I do not say such things lightly, Jayce.”
Once his name was said, Jayce’s heart ached more. How had someone, a stranger, shown such compassion and belief when he couldn’t extend that kindness to himself.
“I don’t even know your name,” he said, quiet and more pained than he ever knew he could feel.
The man looked up at him, back straight as his eyes shone. So bright, as true as the rising sun that comes at the end of endless nights. “I’m Viktor.”
✷
Despite how smart this man, Viktor, was, there was a rebelliousness that quickly endeared Jayce. Viktor insisted they save as much research as they could, making their own copies of equations before the originals were destroyed. The chalk wall became cluttered with possibilities once again. The pair started to workshop and transcribe the information in new journals, reworking equations with simple corrections that made something fail into theoretically possibilities.
“Are you sure you would not like to test it out?” Viktor asked, eyes trailing the long string of numbers, “by tomorrow, there will be no way to see if your theory is true.”
“Our theory,” Jayce interjected, noting the twitch of a smile as Viktor’s contributions were immediately recognized, “But… Fuck, I don’t know. I’m lucky to still be allowed in the city.”
“Yes, but you are not even part of the academy anymore,” Viktor stated, the fact still stinging, “Any research and equipment will have to be personally funded. Even as someone from the undercity, I know the name Talis does not curry much favor.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Jayce snapped, but he sighed and shook his head, “Sorry, Viktor. I just… A girl died because of my research,” he slumped, gesturing to the red stain, “I don’t know if I should keep going.”
“This is our project now, remember?” Viktor teased, the lightness of his tone greatly contrasting the sad look as he also stared at the blood, “People die everyday, Jayce. Hunger, conflict, illness…” he paused, adjusting his grip on his cane, “Innaction from the city killed that girl.”
Jayce stayed quiet, brows furrowing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from that dark mark.
“Maybe you should go,” he conceded, letting his eyes slip shut.
Viktor’s eyes roamed over Jayce, confusion and frustrated clear as he pouted. “What?”
Jayce sidestepped Viktor and grabbed the fresh notebook, quickly jotting down the series of equations on the chalkboard not yet put to paper. Before the ink fully dried he shoved the book towards Viktor.
“Here, then. You can have my research. I didn’t even sign my name this time.”
“You cannot be serious,” Viktor huffed, refusing to take the notebook before Jayce pushed it forward again and the fellow student took it, tucking it beneath his arm. “You are really giving up?”
“Maybe it’s not my fate to bring Hextech to the world. Maybe Heimerdinger was right and that magic isn’t just for anyone to use.”
That light in Viktor’s eyes faded even as the candlelight flickered, his own resolve challenged. He looked down at the leather bracelet Jayce hadn’t accepted. “I believed in you and your speech. I thought you could fix what was broken. I guess I was mistaken.”
“I guess so,” Jayce sighed, looking away from the sad eyes of the man across from him, now collecting bits of paper and clipping them together before plopping it on the table with a huff. “Take what you like, burn the rest, I don’t care.”
Jayce turned and grabbed the suicide note, still unopened and in many ways more true, even now. Jayce was sorry for what had happened and sorry for his own cowardice, his own failings as a scientist. Before he left he gave Viktor one last, hard look.
“Maybe in another life you and I would’ve been changed the world together.”
✷
Jayce wasn’t one to drink but something about knowing your life’s work was going to, or already had been, destroyed was reason enough. Jayce wandered the streets alone, the suicide note in his pocket crumbled and worthless. Just like him.
Jayce didn’t want to go back to his mother’s house. She was already so disappointed, her eyes sad and it would only be worsened from the stench of whisky on his breath in the middle of the day. He couldn’t help but walk past the academy, eyeing the guards as they chatted amongst themselves. Once one noticed Jayce staring, his academy uniform disheveled and clearly hung over, the pair straightened up and gestured to him.
“Go home and sober up,” the guard barked out, probably given some brief about Jayce Talis and his killing science.
He didn’t have the strength to fight. Maybe another version of him would charge into Heimerdinger’s office and make it work, to prove to him and the council that his work meant something, but that wasn’t this world.