Arcane ~ Short Stories ~ QUEENDOM

VI ~ The Man of Tomorrow

~ SPOILERS for the 4th episode of Arcane ~

(this is the setting for "The Trencher")

Jayce tried taking a deep breath, fidgeting with the buttons of the fanciest jacket he owned. He attempted to seem confident, staring at his reflection in the gold-framed hallway mirror, but the young man looking back at him appeared just as nervous as he felt. Of course he let Councillor Medarda talk him into coming here, of course Viktor insisted that it would be wiser for him to keep studying the Hextech... Mel swore that his presence at the soiree would make or break his pitch. The future of Hextech was riding on his image, according to the powerful councilwoman. And arriving more than an hour late would definitely not contribute positively to his reputation. After all, ninety-nine percent of the people in that room were already convinced he was simply a brash madman, blinded by youthful delusions. His standing couldn't logically degrade itself, right? He forced a smile upon his face, pulled at a few threads of his black hair and resolutely marched toward the double doors. Jayce waltzed in, thinking about how badly he would have to make Viktor pay for not coming along. While reasoning with himself because he knew that blaming his friend for his discomfort was unfair, he began weaving through the posh crowd in search for the true culprit.

~

Time seemed to pass by so unbearably slowly at this type of events, compared to the hours Jayce could spend tweaking even the most trivial invention of his. Every minute in his workshop felt like a mere second, every minute at this party - if it could even be qualified with that term - felt like an interminable hour. He was standing with his back against a wall, distractedly scanning the richest inhabitants of Piltover as they gossiped, drank, ate far too complex minuscule hors-d'oeuvres and discussed every boring topic under the sun. The clicking of heels against the marble floor drew his attention away from his inner dialogue. He glanced to his right and was stunned, with his eyes wider and his jaw seconds away from falling on the floor.

Most certainly like anyone else in the large room, Jayce had noticed her earlier and his focus had wavered to observe her inhuman beauty. Her clear skin nearly glimmered under the pale and bright chandelier lighting, and her abundant curls swirled past her slim shoulders, braided at the front and tied back above her head, at the exception of two strands that framed her face. It transpired mischievousness and lust, an attractive combination. Her lips, frozen in an eternal smirk, were painted dark red, and black eye makeup matched her unusual dress. At least, unusual for the social scene they were surrounded by. It was turtle-necked and made of a form-fitting material that enhanced her desirable build in ways that should have been illegal. The length was the most "shocking" part, though, since the dress covered around six inches of her upper thigh, at most. Tights, heels and a long-sleeved leather jacket - all the color of coal - covered her from head to toe. Despite it all, including the few bejeweled items that completed her look, it was something else that had captivated him. Soft, long, curved lashes bordered the creature's hypnotizing gaze. Her left eye was dark brown, tinged with crimson hues. The right one was utterly and purely blue, a tint more intense than a cloudless sky or a deep sea, not light and diluted, not greenish nor grayish, not dark and sensual... Strangely her iris was the exact shade of a Hex crystal.

~

Hiedra extended her right forearm to the side, keeping her champagne flute incredibly stable between her fingers. She had entertained herself with the idea that she would get to meet Jayce Talis before any of her sisters. The four of them basically worshiped him. She thought he was indeed interesting, but maybe not worthy of their reverence.

   "Jayce Talis, the man of the hour. I've been waiting a long time for this."

She held out her left hand, he gawked at the rings on her slender fingers and her sharp nails coated in dark gray. Rapidly enough, he turned to face her and shook it politely, uncertain of what he should say.