The Arcane Trilogy: Better Call Paul - Book 1

Prologue

The smoke had begun to clear. The crimson cloak that had hung over the bridge began to dissipate, with the atrocities committed under its shroud slowly being revealed to the world. The stench of smoke, ash, and blood spread throughout the districts of Piltover unlucky enough to live on the doorstep of the chaos that had just unfolded. Walking through these lower districts was the Sheriff and her most trusted follower. After each step the Sheriff took, she could feel the weight of her badge of office weighing down on her. The cost of her service looming over her as she saw the faces of every man and woman, she put down that day. Behind her strode another enforcer, who's gaze remained firm but cold, seemingly less affected by the death they brought upon the self-proclaimed 'Zaunites'. They had walked in silence since departing the bridge, and that silence continued as they approached their destination. The Sheriff looked ahead to see the exterior of the Goodbrook family home. She stopped a few steps from the door, the faces of those she killed, as well as those she lost plaguing her thoughts. A voice broke through her thoughts.

"I can speak to them if you would like ma'am." Said the voice of the enforcer behind her. His tone remained neutral and firm, just like it was before the fighting began.

"No Mallister, I...I can do this. I need to. I owe it to them, but thank you." Said Sherriff Grayson, her voice faltering for just a moment. Mallister simply nodded as Grayson approached the door. She knocked and the door was briskly opened by an elderly woman, her eyes full off hope for a brief moment. Her eyes darted from Grayson to Mallister before scanning the space behind them, hoping for two more figures to reveal themselves, but no one came. Her eyes returned to Grayson.

"Are they?" started the older woman, her voice trembling as tears began to fall down her face. Grayson simply nodded; her eyes full of regret as the older woman stifled a sob.

"They were both fine officers Mrs Goodbrook, and even better people." Grayson added, putting a hand on her shoulder. Mrs Goodbrook simply nodded, more tears silently streaming down her face. "Is your grandson alright?" asked Grayson, bringing Mrs Goodbrook's focus back to her.

"He's just upstairs. You know what he is like. Sitting at that desk of his from dusk till dawn unless we pull him away from it." She said with a slight life, wiping away her tears. Grayson returns a slight slime to the elderly woman.

"Is it alright if I come in? I...wanted to tell him personally. I owe his parents that much." Asked Grayson as she screamed at every fibre in her being to maintain her composure. Mrs Goodbrook simply nodded before holding the door for Grayson. She turned to Mallister who simply nodded and took up his post in front of the door, rifle in hand. Ultimately, it was an unnecessary precaution, but Mallister took his duty seriously and always remained on alert until the day was done.

Grayson entered the humble home of the Goodbrooks. They were not the wealthiest family in Piltover, but they got by. The warm crackle of the fireplace waft through Grayson's nose, bringing back raw memories of the violence herself and her comrades had just endured. As she climbed the stairs, she noticed Mrs Goodbrook fall into the sofa, clasping her hands to her face to smother the tears flowing through her fingers. No parent should have to bury their child, but this day had cursed the Goodbrook family with that exact fate.

Grayson reached the top of the stairs and caught a glimpse of a mop of black hair looming over a desk. She gently knocked on the door and the boy quickly spun around. His hopeful look turned to one of confusion, but it did retain a hint of happiness.

"Aunt Grayson?" asked the young man.

"Hello Paul. How are you?" she asked in a soft tone.

Paul looked slightly confused but eagerly turned around to show Grayson what he had been working on.

"I've nearly finished that story I was writing for you last time you visited. Look, look." Said Paul as nearly pulls Grayson of her feet to show her his desk. Pencils and crayons scattered all over the desk, with various sheets of paper decorating the desk. "I finally decided on an ending. Lyonel and Duncan have a really long fight, but eventually Lyonel's ego gets the better of him and Duncan sweeps his leg and forces him to yield, winning him the day." Said Paul as his eyes light up with enthusiasm as he recounts his grand finale to Grayson.

"Well now you've just spoiled the surprise. Guess I can't read it now." Said Grayson with a small smile and a slight shrug.

"No, you have to. I started writing this because of you. You can't not read it. I might change it a bit. Give you some more surprises." Replied Paul as he tries to neaten up the bundle of pages in his hands.

"You don't need to do that Paul, I'm sure that it will be a fantastic story." Reassures Grayson.

"I hope so. I still need to run the ending by mum and dad when they get home." Said Paul as he begins to turn to Grayson. "I'm assuming you guys won right? Are they just wrapping things up with the other enforcers?" He asks as he faces Grayson. However, what Paul saw hit him like a freight train. Her warm smile had dropped. She sat back on Paul's bed before lightly patting the covers, calling Paul over to her. As Paul moved over to her side, his thoughts began to race of every possibility.

"That's why I'm here. We won, but things got out of hand quickly. The people from the undercity were far more organised than we initially thought." As Grayson continued, Paul's face began to fall, his worst fears slowly creeping into the corners of his mind. "Your father and mother both fought bravely, like I knew they would. I've always been proud to serve alongside them, but today wasn't in their favour. They gave everything to keep Piltover safe, to keep you safe. I'm sorry Paul."

No more words needed to be said. Paul understood, but he couldn't believe it. For 16 years they had always been the pillar of strength in Paul's life. And now, that pillar had been violently and suddenly uprooted. Paul simply sat there for a moment, his body screaming at him, with various voices fighting for control. After several painfully silent moments, his shell broke and he dropped his head into his hands, as tears began leaking through the cracks. Grayson put an arm round his shoulder, inviting him in for a comforting embrace. Paul accepted, sobbing deeply into Grayson as he felt as if the world was falling away all around him. No words were shared for the next few minutes. Paul wept for a time, with Grayson slowly rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him. Grayson broke the veil of silence born from the tragedy of the day.

"I'll always be here for you Paul, but your grandmother is still with you. This hurts her as well. Help each other, but always remember you are a family. If you need any help, just ask. Ok?" Said Grayson, her voice filled with concern.

All Paul could manage was a muffled "Ok."

Grayson and Mallister departed soon after, leaving the Goodbrooks in peace after their lives were just shattered in front of them. Paul was left alone in his room, deep in thought, trying to understand how this could have happened to him. Loosing people is such an abstract feeling, until it happens to you. Why? Why had they been sent off  to die? That was the question that echoed around his mind, and for the following years of his life, it would continue to do so.