Shot to the Heart

Chapter One

A cool breeze played across Caitlyn Kiramman's face despite the early rays of the summer sun beating down on her. Sweat lined her brow and neck, luckily she had pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail. Yet, wisps of her silky blue hair still escaped their containment and danced around her face in the wind.

Her sharp blue eyes peered down through the scope attached to the top of her rifle - an expression of focus painted upon her face. The fall air crisply nipped her fingers as August entered its final moments, and September crept around the corner. She lowered her aim delicately while she carefully placed her sites on the targets set up in the backyard.

Her hands held the hunting tool steadily, and she cocked the gun into place. Ready.

Click. Pop. The first leather-hard clay teacup that had been propped upon a crate shattered to small pieces, with a light clatter on the hard concrete below.

Click. Pop. The tall floral vase fresh from the kiln exploded into hundreds of fragments as the pieces hit the ground.

Click. Pop. The teapot, crunched under the impact of the bullet. The impact of the larger piece reverberated momentarily before the surrounding yard quickly fell into a deep silence.

Caitlyn sucked a deep breath through her teeth as she took in the momentary delicate quiet in the secluded deep woods. Their summer home on the outskirts of northern Piltover provided a relief from the bustling city life from the downtown her family was so used to.

"Caitlyn Kiramman!"

Her mother's exclamation of anger and shock could be heard throughout the whole house. She silently cursed herself for leaving the back door open when she initially stepped out onto the deck. Not that it would have made much of a difference, especially to her mother who was known for her sharp hearing and stern judgment of Caitlyn's every action.

She lowered the gun and held it against her torso as she surveyed her work. Their efforts towards these ceramic pieces had been hard focused during her summer break. So much so, that her mother had moved for an early recess during the Piltover's council summer session.

Not that it had been much of a contest for her mother. The council had been actively trying to quell a panic that had begun rising in the city at the beginning of the year, and they were eager for a break. The Undercity continued to apply pressure between their shared trading routes, impacting important imports and exports, and Caitlyn could clearly see the toll it had taken on her mother.

Yet, she couldn't help but be disappointed by the work her mother had pushed her to labor over in the past few months. It just wasn't her, creating traditional Piltover ceramics. The days dragged on and on... and her critical eye continued to judge her own mistakes with a sharp edge, undoubtedly the same one her mother had instilled in her and honed slowly, through the many years as her mentor.

Her heart dropped as the clacking of her mother's heels signaled her approach to the back door. She gave one last glance to the tiny details they had spent so many days deciding upon together, but she didn't feel wrong in her decision to destroy them. She was sure her messy mistakes today would feed into better ideas and execution of her pieces tomorrow...

She just didn't know if her mother would see it the same way.

The dainty flower motifs she designed at the edges of the teacup were gone. She'd spent hours deciding what handles would look best with the flower vase, but an overlooked air bubble ruined it, leaving a scar on the remaining vase. The teapot... she had indeed loved, but it was a matter of bad proportions that led to its initial fall from the kitchen counter... Which, unfortunately, left a large portion crushed with no hope of repair. She felt her heartbeat through her stomach but she heaved a sigh of mixed relief and anguish.