A Piltover Academy Student in Demacia (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 9: Saviors & Sacrifices

One day ticked over into the next; the days stretched into a week; the first week spilled over into the second week, and yet there was no sign of Lux, neither sight nor word nor dubious gossip. Sona had heard nothing, and Garen had been temporarily deployed, leading the First Shield of the Dauntless Vanguard to protect in the construction of the first temporary triangulating tower that would serve as a targeting beacon of sorts for the Hexgates (it would eventually need to be replaced with a larger, more permanent control tower, but such work could happen after the three of them had returned safely home). She had no other sources from which to glean any information, even the most baseless of rumors; as far as anyone could tell, Lux had either left the city or fallen entirely off the face of the planet.

It was only as morning dawned on the day that marked the fourth week since Powder had last seen Lux that she finally received any news. Said news came in the form of a letter, delivered without message or instruction by a royal courier. Powder ripped it open quickly, refusing to believe her suspicions, and read through the letter. It was rather short; far too short, Powder reflected bitterly, given the contents within:

"Dear Powder,

There is no painless way to deliver this news, so I will do so quickly and plainly to reduce the agony of anticipation. I have accepted the renewed terms of the crown's offer of betrothal. I shall be returning to the quarters arranged for me within the Citadel of Dawn, and will be staying there moving forward. If important matters arise that would require that we speak, you may request an audience and I shall meet with you, if I am able. Otherwise, I ask that you refrain from trying to reach out to me in regards to more personal matters, either by letter or in person. I do not think an extended farewell would be of any benefit to either of us, so please indulge me in this selfishness. I recognize it is far from fair, and is but the latest of so many unfair actions I have taken against you, but I beg you, do this last thing for me.

I'm certain there is no need to belabor the point, but in the interest of preventing any future misunderstanding, let me be frank: it is over. I am so very sorry, but it is over.

I wish you and your colleagues the best of luck in your endeavors, and I hope you will move on from this to better and brighter things. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I will always cherish the memories of our time together. I am sorry that I could not be what you needed me to be. I hope, one day, that you'll forgive me.

Farewell, my most beloved of jinxes,

Luxanna Crownguard"

Powder set the letter down calmly on the table, then sat calmly on her bed and calmly crossed her legs. She took a deep breath, a calming breath, because she was calm, very calm, so incredibly damn calm that she could create a fucking relaxation routine based on her demeanor. She wasn't going to scream, or cry, or storm into the palace and demand answers. She wasn't going to turn her room upside down in a fit of anger, and she certainly, so very certainly wasn't going to beg for things to be different. This was the way it was always going to go, after all; it had, admittedly, come to pass in a way she hadn't expected, and had been conveyed in a matter that would've warranted a more explosive response... but instead, Powder decided to instead be collected. To take this news gracefully, and to proceed in stride. She would be, above all else: calm.

This calmness lasted for all of thirty seconds before she sent the makeshift alarm clock she'd constructed flying across the room, screaming into her pillow as it smashed against the wall, small mechanical pieces flying through the air and rolling across the floor.

"I suppose, if nothing else, that having an answer is better than not knowing," Sona signed, setting the letter down on the table.

"Sure, I guess," Powder said flatly, slotting a tiny spring back into place within the dented casing of the alarm clock, the remaining loose pieces (at least, the parts she could find) spread out on the bed in front of her. "At least I know I didn't fuck up somehow. Presumably."