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Chapter Text

The Spirit Blossom Festivities in Ionia rarely allowed for a peace such as this. Usually the streets were alive with celebration, the clamor of reunion and grief, as spirits from beyond were given the gift of walking back amongst the living. Families would share memories old and new, friends would revisit nostalgic hangouts, and some would return just to breathe in the crisp air of fall. 

On one particular night there was no such bustle. When the new moon rose and carried the landscape into total darkness, a strange sort of quiet would descend upon the land. Travelers and mothers alike knew the dangers of the twilight. But the true reason for the tranquility was not born of fear, it was an act of utmost respect.

Every night but this one, the twin spirits of the night were believed to be present to give their protection and oversight to the celebration. The moon hanging distantly in the night sky, reflecting off all the waters of the land, were the watchful eyes of Aphelios and Alune. The two were ancient spirits of folktale rumored to hold unimaginable power.

There had been a time long ago in Ionia’s history when spirits were the only conscious beings to roam. Settrigh, the spirit of challenge, had maintained long standing order among the others, with the help of the spirit badgers who guided his fists. Being born to an Akana father and Kanmei mother gave him the unique opportunity to earn the respect of both forms of spirit. The spirit of challenge would spend his days sorting out issues through brawls that only someone of his physicality could sustain. His nights were spent licking his wounds in quiet seclusion.

While parts of him detested the constant violence, there was an unsaid comfort that came with always knowing your place in the world. Or so he had thought.

“You must be Settrigh,” the woman said softly. Her appearance was almost transient, so much so that the brawler could see the other end of his quarters through her skin. 

The room was relatively gaudy for its purpose. Rose colored doors opened into a stone chamber that stood three times his height. The arched ceilings were decorated sparsely with conquests of his past, leaving room for the many his future would bring, and the walls were covered in shelves of books of all themes. At the far wall opposite the entryway was a plain marble chair surrounded by candles that twinkled with blue flame. Rows of pews lined the walkway in a churchlike fashion leading up to the seat, with one gap on the right end to allow for passageway into the coliseum. He considered it more of a hallway than a room.

“I don’t fight the dead,” Sett scoffed, returning the book he’d been reading to its place. Standing allowed him to get a better look at the new visitor. A blue crescent horn protruded crudely from her skull, a harsh contrast to her gentle appearance and formal dress. Her eyes glowed brightly with admiration. She was an interesting challenger, but not interesting enough to make him reconsider tradition.

“I’m not here to challenge you,” she said.

Sett chuckled, “I don’t fuck them either.” If she was surprised by the comment, it didn’t show. The visitor just began to walk carefully down the aisle, peeking down to the coliseum gate curiously, before approaching the foot of the chair. 

“My name is Alune, and I am Akana.” She turned around to face him, “And I believe we have much in common.” 

Sett took a seat on the bench and gestured for Alune to continue, if this was an opportunity for a break in between fighting, he would gladly take it.

“There aren’t many others who share bloodlines with another form of spirit,” Alune began, studying the ceiling decor with awe, “It doesn’t happen often because they aren’t meant to mix. Oil and water, if you will. Through all the disputes you’ve fought for, I’m sure you have also found this to be true.”

She turned her eyes downwards, “Unfortunately, we don’t always get to decide who shares the blood in our veins. Like a tainted water supply, we are forced to satisfy our thirst with the poison someone has dumped in our streams, otherwise we will be left to die.”

“I came to you, spirit of challenge, not to fight, but to fix,” Alune said. Her words had become breathless, and her eyes hollow. Sett narrowed his in return.

“And how am I supposed to fix it?” He asked skeptically, “It’s not like I can just stop the Akana and Kanmei from mixing altogether, and mind you, it’s because of that that I even exist in the first place.” Alune laughed. It was a gentle sound, like wind chimes dancing freely in the autumn breeze, and along with it some of the life returned to her features.

“How foolish of me, I should’ve mentioned this sooner,” she said.

“You see, I have a unique problem within our shared experience. My twin brother is Kanmei. I love him very dearly, and I am so very glad that he has found his peace. But with him still here, I’m afraid that this,” she felt along her transparent arms mournfully, “can never be fixed.”

“So you came here to hire me to assassinate your twin?” Sett clarified incredulously. He’d received many offhand requests over the course of his career in settling disputes, but none as dishonorable as this. To go behind the back of your own family, to ask for assistance in such an ignoble form of killing, he clenched his fists in anger.

“Need it sound so vulgar?” Alune said.

“That’s what it sounded like to me.”

“Then I don’t think you truly understand what I’m- ” Alune was cut off by the blue badger spirit that lunged forward and clasped its jaws tenderly around her throat. Sett stood slowly. Approaching her, he raised his right arm and the badger spirit followed, pulling Alune to the tips of her feet. She gasped. As he grew closer she was pushed down against the arm of the marble seat.

Sett grew close enough to replace the badger spirit on her throat with his own fist and growled softly, “Don’t ever step foot in here again.”

Before she could speak, the rose doors were thrown open with a bang.

“Alune!”  

The bright glow of the setting sun poured into the chamber, outlining the slim figure of the new arrival. Sett had to squint against the light to make out the form of a young man. There was something smooth and long poised in his arms.

Clink! He was barely able to raise his arm in time to block the bullet.

“Get away from her!” the man cried. 

I can do that, Sett grinned.

He dashed towards the door with lightning speed, making a zigzag pattern over the tops of the pews to avoid being shot at again. What he wasn’t expecting was the bullet that grazed him from the side. His eyes darted to the right to see the same smooth weapon the man had been holding, almost as if it was being held by an invisible wielder, aimed directly at him.

Sett halted his charge with a snarl and threw a punch towards the gun, a purple badger spirit extending from his fist and shattering it like bone. With the immediate threat neutralized he turned his focus back on the intruder. Sett lunged the remaining distance before the man could have another chance to fire and tackled him onto the grass outside. It was the first time he had the opportunity to properly see who exactly he was fighting.

The man’s eyes were a stormy gray, smoldering with intense rage. White and black hair cascaded down to his shoulders, only broken up by pointed ears and a bun. He shared a lopsided horn with Alune, however his gleamed a bright purple, and it matched well with his sharp features. His face looked as if it had been masterfully carved from marble. 

“My twin brother is Kanmei.”

In his hesitation, the man had swung a crimson blade from his side and held it up to Sett’s throat. For a breathless moment, the two locked eyes and said nothing.

“My name is Aphelios,” he growled, “and I invoke your challenge.”

Chapter Text

Sett was used to a challenge. It was his entire identity after all, to rise to the occasion, to beat the odds, to squash the opposition. So why he found himself restless in bed, unable to stop the train of thoughts that were chugging circles in his mind, he could not comprehend.

Initially he blamed it on excitement. From their short clash earlier that day, the kid had proven himself a worthy challenger. He was cunning, ruthless, and had the potential to put up an entertaining fight, a possibility Sett had lost faith in after a long career of unbeatable victories. 

Aphelios . Sett rolled the name around his tongue, flicking a gold coin aimlessly in the air. He wasn’t satisfied with the culprit. Many fights had brought him excitement before, but none had made his heart shudder and pound like a caged bird.

He decided, then, it was the fault of that Alune. She had angered him already with her impudence, and now she would get her way regardless. Because of the nature of the challenge one of them would have to die. As it stood, sparing the other’s life was considered an act of disrespect and shame, showing that he didn’t believe the other was worthy of a fighter’s death. But to add on the severity of the accusations Aphelios had pushed on him, a familial transgression, there was no way around it. Aphelios would have to die. Sett growled and threw the coin against the wall, rolling on to his side. The last thing he wanted to do was grant her request.

With a sigh, Sett rolled around once more and sat up, putting his head in his hands and resting them on his knees. If Ma were here, she would know what to do . He flicked his ear to rid the thought. Missing her wasn’t going to make the situation any better. However, he knew sleep wasn’t going to come any easier the more he ruminated, so he decided it wouldn’t hurt to write her a second letter of the week. He stood slowly, stretching and yawning. 

Sett’s actual home was much more cozy than the stone cathedral he was rumored to live in. For security reasons, he had chosen to construct the small cabin tucked away into the thick woodlands just outside the coliseum grounds. Close enough to supervise, far enough to hide. He kept the furniture light, since it didn’t serve a purpose beyond being a place of rest, and decor consisted of nothing more than a worn rug, a barbell, and a framed photo of Ma on the nightstand. That’s all he felt was necessary to turn a house into a home. He yawned again. 

Blinking any remaining drowsiness from his eyes, Sett meandered over to the desk and took a seat. He grabbed a piece of new paper off the stack and dipped the quill in ink.

Dear Ma, he wrote at the top, and paused. 

It was then he realized he wasn’t exactly sure why he was writing to her in the first place. Sure, sleeping wasn’t an option, but it’s not like she’d be able to solve his problem the night before. She might not be able to understand the problem in the first place. Did he even understand it?

Sett groaned. Just write the damn letter.

I hope all is well with you and Pa. I know it ain’t been long since we last wrote, but some things have happened over here that I really wish I could talk to ya about right now. It’s no use in explainin’ it now because by the time you read this it’ll already be over.

He frowned and scribbled out the last word.

dealt with. I know ya always taught me to follow my heart, but right now it feels like my heart is goin’ against everything else I believe in. But some thing just ain’t right, Ma, it ain’t. I’m gonna have to do some thing I really don’t wanna have to do. Maybe after I can take a break an come down to see ya again. I’ll do my best to follow my heart like ya say I should, I promise. I can almost hear ya sayin’ it to me now.

Another frown, and with it, the whole last sentence was blacked out.

I love you, Ma . 

He signed the paper and set it aside, sighing deeply. He knew that most of the content of the letter was vague, and that it would make her pull her hair out. But for some reason, words to describe his predicament continued to elude him. 

Excitement?  

Anger?  

Neither truly explained what he was feeling. Folding up the letter for the morning and laying back into bed, he sighed once more. Soft snores of the badger spirits joined with the rhythmic chirping of crickets outside to create a well orchestrated nature’s lullaby. 

As the gentle hands of sleep arrived to carry him through the rest of the night, they paused for just a moment to allow one more attempt at clarity to deboard the trains in his mind.

Desire?     

–

“I’m not worried, I have you,” Aphelios said. He turned and gave his sister a reassuring smile before returning to his task of cleaning out his long rifle. The two had pitched a tent alongside the outskirts of the coliseum, one that was quickly being joined by a massing of others. What had once been a peaceful grassy clearing the night before was now a sea of animated fabric as word spread of the upcoming challenge. The great Settrigh rarely fought a challenge in his own stead, so many were eager to see how fiercely he could fight with his own honor at stake.

Alune only hummed in response. Aphelios eyed her wearily, there was another layer to her worry this time, one that he couldn’t quite read. She wouldn’t answer him either when he questioned her visit to the spirit of challenge. 

He felt an overwhelming sense of calm despite the situation. Of all the things he could possibly die for, protecting his twin sister’s reputation was one he was almost happy to accomplish. Aphelios knew how being Akana plagued her. He had vowed to do everything in his power to bring her the peace she so desperately wanted. If this would bring him one step closer, there was no way he could back down.

“Settrigh is bold, he is arrogant, that will be his downfall,” Aphelios continued. “He doesn’t think that he can lose. All we have to do is show him that he can.” He put aside his long gun and reached out his hand expectantly. Alune quietly touched the pristine weapon, turning it a transient shade akin to her own, and pulled it inside her body. She closed her eyes for a moment while the gun faded and was replaced by the crimson blade Aphelios had wielded. With a smile, she placed it into his open hand.

“Thank you,” he said. Sett knew of the two weapons, Calibrum and Severum, as well as the chakram turret of Crescendum. What he didn’t know was the existence of the two others. Aphelios was hoping to be underestimated, it had won him plenty of fights before. It was not like many spirits had a portable moonlight arsenal at their disposal.

“What if I’m not enough,” Alune murmured.

“You are,” Aphelios said firmly. “I can’t do it without you.” 

She gazed out over the crowd thoughtfully, “Do you think any of them will cheer for us?”

At this, Aphelios shrugged, setting down Severum and getting to his feet to stand next to his sister. Maybe Alune’s other worry lay in the eyes of the spectators, eyes that would almost certainly pass right through her to focus on him.

“Does that really matter?” he asked back. “Give me your best, and I’ll give you mine. Then we can worry about what to do with them after.” 

Alune seemed satisfied with his response, flashing him a gentle smile and taking hold of his hand. It felt cold, like dipping his hand in a freezing lake, but it’d been so long since he’d felt any other, that he forgot it was supposed to be warm.

Chapter Text

The crowd roared with anticipation. Usually their calls were faint, raised high above the arena to prevent any chance of collateral damage. But today the stakes were higher. Aphelios, the weapon of the faithful, guided by the moon, had invoked a challenge against Settrigh, the spirit of challenge, guided by his fists. A challenge of severe consequence. A familial transgression. 

Normally, the party represented by Sett would occupy the box below the audience rafters, provided with the best of views to see their accuser (or accused) be faced with retribution. On this day it was empty. Sett could feel the glaring absence it left, the heavy judgment that came with taking his own matters to the stage in front of thousands of gawking spectators. This time, all his decisions were his own. He had never felt so powerless.

Sett could see the moon spirit crouched on the other side of the arena, leaning against that awfully ornate gun of his. He detested everything about the man. There was no room for such elegance in violence. Fists were meant to be bloodied, faces scarred, guns rusted. Even the top he was dressed in was so rudely dignified, a light white complimented by bright pink and gold highlights. Fabric that glowed like blue moonlight draped over his shoulders and fell to the ground in pools, that might just show your reflection if you gazed into them. His wrists looked so unbelievably fragile that Sett could almost forget they held a blade up to his throat the night before. How could he kill something so beautiful?

Sett flicked his ear in annoyance, I am going to crush you. If he had squinted hard enough, he might have been able to catch the faint outline of Alune that was perched upon his opponent’s shoulder.

Trumpets lining the coliseum walls began to squawk a discordant melody, attempting to compete with and silence the clamor inside. When it was evident that the volume could not be lowered any further, the gates opened to allow a yordle carrying a gaudily decorated cannon to waddle into the middle of the stadium. The crowd lowered into a quiet murmur.

“May the best challenger win!” the spirit of chance, Tristana, whooped with a grin. She launched a ball of flame into the sky, followed by herself, clearing the floor for the battle to begin. Upon the explosion of her cannon, the cheers were deafening. 

Sett flattened his ears to block out the noise.

Aphelios had yet to stand up from his squat. He simply eyed the spirit of challenge and waited for his first move. 

Sett was more than happy to oblige.

With a snarl, he summoned the badger spirits to his fists and barreled towards Aphelios. This time he was prepared for the possibility of crossfire and made sure to protect his flanks. Before Sett was in lunging distance, Aphelios leapt into the air effortlessly, brandishing his long gun. 

What Sett hadn’t prepared for was the charkam turret that was waiting where Aphelios had stood. He wouldn’t be able to target one without being struck by the other, so he quickly decided the turret was worth eliminating first. Sett crashed into the turret shoulder first, shattering it as easily as before. The telltale pain of a bullet arched through his other shoulder, proving that Aphelios had capitalized on his opportunity.

Crafty bastard , Sett growled. He whipped around and sprung upwards, winding up the purple badger around his fist. He locked eyes with Aphelios mid air, gray eyes shining with excitement and confidence, and released the punch with a yell. There was a satisfying crunch as fist connected with bone. Aphelios was quickly removed from his sight as he was sent careening into the dirt.

Sett landed with a heavy thud , shaking the dust out of his eyes and hair. He felt the warm trickle of blood down his back and lit up with rage. How dare he let that brat be the one to draw the first blood on his stage.

“You alive, mooncake?” he jeered at the pile of dust that had yet to settle in front of him. 

A burst of blue flame erupted from the cloud. The fire almost caught a shocked Sett in its tongues, adding smoke into the haze now fully obscuring his vision. He coughed and swatted away the fumes.

Streaks of red that began as blades, but soon were mixed with blood, painted the body of the brawler. He found it impossible to punish the artist. Pain seared across his skin with each fresh cut. Sett flung his fists out wildly, unable to rely on his eyes and ears to pinpoint the direction of the assault. With each missed strike, his fury rose, infusing his hair and physique with the power of his spirit.

Focus .

Sett paused for a moment to inhale deeply, closing his eyes. 

He released the breath with a guttural howl and blast of spirit energy. 

The cloud was quickly dispersed, and he heard a surprised grunt as the relentless assailant was knocked into the ground once more. Blood was now trickling down from all sides of his body, and Sett was very much over it. 

He stomped towards Aphelios. Small chakrams danced in a ring around the form of the man flat on his back. Occasionally one would launch towards the impending Sett, only to be caught and crushed swiftly by the maw of the badger spirits.

No more games.

He sent the white badger forth to sink its teeth into the exposed shoulder of Aphelios and yank him upwards. The moon spirit fought hard to keep the whine of pain from escaping his lips, but lost when Sett’s own fist met the wound. He was flung backwards and the remaining chakrams were scattered to the floor, before disappearing into thin air.

“What the-” 

Sett was cut off by the sudden appearance of a purple lotus sailing his way. 

He attempted to swat it out the sky, but both his and the badgers’ attacks simply passed through the flower as it settled above his head. 

Whumph. A heavy pulse emanated from the lotus. 

It was as if gravity itself had changed, increasing its strength tenfold, threatening to collapse Sett under its immense weight. It took all of his will to remain upright.

In the distance, Aphelios crouched. A massive cannon adorned with purple lotuses rested upon his shoulder. He was panting heavily, one eye forced shut and blood spurting from the bite wound. 

He was also grinning wildly. 

Sett’s heart raced. How many weapons does this guy have?

Aphelios stood shakily, dropping down the cannon and brandishing his crimson blade once more.

At least I know which one’s the favorite.

Sett could feel the crushing gravity slowly restoring the spirit energy inside of him. All he had to do was hold out until he was powerful enough to overcome the pressure. He wasn’t so sure, however, that Aphelios would let him have that chance.

The aforementioned was taking his time to approach, spinning in gradual circles to acknowledge the thundering crowd above, proudly showing off as if Sett was simply a circus animal in his show. If he noticed the sparks of energy that had begun to drip from Sett’s hair, he didn’t appear concerned at all. That was his first mistake.

His second mistake was when he came to stand just outside arm’s reach and gloat. Because, unlike most brawlers, Sett was never limited by his arm’s reach.

Sett thrust his arm forward in an explosion of energy, grasping and wrenching Aphelios towards him with the help of the badgers. The channel of intense gravity above him was broken. 

Now, he was in arm’s reach.

Sett clasped Aphelios tightly and threw them both into the air. He raised the other high above his head before twisting and sending them both catapulting into the ground with immense force. 

The ground rippled with the intensity of their impact. Spirit energy pulsated from the contact area, threatening to tear apart the barrier between the physical and energetic states of the universe.

The crowd was silent with shock.

Panting, Sett opened his eyes to see himself positioned atop the limp body of Aphelios, fist poised inches away from his face. It was a wonder the moon spirit was still breathing. Even more striking were his eyes, wide awake, glaring back at him, begging him to finish the job.

But he hesitated.

That was all it took for Sett to realize he wouldn’t be able to do it. That no matter how hard he tried, how angry he was, how many punches he threw, there was no heart behind his actions. 

He could not kill Aphelios.

Sett knew his opponent would be furious, he had every right to be. Aphelios deserved an honorable death for the fight he put up. But something in Sett’s mind had convinced him that, above all, he deserved to live.

Aphelios trembled beneath him. Perhaps with exhaustion, apprehension, or indignance. He didn’t have the strength left to voice whichever it was. Sett wasn’t sure he could find the strength to voice his own feelings either.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. 

Sett pushed off the ground and gathered his feet underneath him to stand. He gazed up into the expectant eyes of the audience. Their lofty view allowed for a much longer period of suspense, unable to tell if his opponent was alive or dead.

“If the challenge is to continue, then let the challenger stand!” he thundered. 

When Aphelios showed no signs of movement, Sett walked towards the stage exit without another word. Half hearted cheers of victory and confusion followed closely behind his heels.

He didn’t want to be there when they inevitably turned to anger and disappointment.

Chapter Text

The weeks following the monumental challenge were the slowest he’d had in years. Sparing Aphelios’s life had irreparable damages on his reputation. How could people continue to trust the judge, jury, and executioner who failed so miserably on the last step of his job? Sett didn’t mind as much as he thought he would’ve. The blow to his ego was quickly healed by the unplanned vacation days that resulted.

The first few were spent recovering. Applying and redressing bandages in solitude, visiting the hot springs a few towns over, and exchanging letters with his beloved mother. A full turnaround on his physical health had still left him restless, but this time Sett knew the cause.

If he had sacrificed so much for the life of one man, it was only natural that keeping him alive was in his best interest. Sett highly doubted that Alune would accept her defeat so easily. This rationale led him to seeking out the twin spirits from the shadows. 

When the sun left behind its stain on the horizon, Sett would call on his badgers to hunt their prey. They would bound down the streets of historic Ionia eagerly, leaving behind a trail of spirit dust that Sett could trace, donning a ragged cloak and robes that shrouded his identity. Fortunately, the lands around his coliseum were full of ragtag fighters who congregated nearby in the hopes of a satisfactory brawl, so blending in was easier than imagined.

Aphelios had been impossible to trace the first week. Sett figured he had fallen under the care of Soraka, the spirit of pity, who often lingered around the nights of his challenges to carry away any potential souls to be saved. She was usually unsuccessful. 

Then, hints began to appear in the forest. A lone purple lotus in a field of lilies, burn scars on trees where there had been no fire, the glow of moonlight that could never penetrate the dense foliage before. Aphelios had reappeared.

Aphelios would only make his trips into town every other night, perusing the markets for supplies, always stopping at one particular storefront to exchange hushed words and a strange looking tonic. It was a routine Sett soon grew accustomed to following, picking up some goods of his own along the way. 

One night, the store owner gestured for Aphelios to follow him into the shop. Sett’s ears perked up in surprise. This was the first time either of them had deviated from the transaction. He quickly concluded his purchase of the freshest seasonal produce a few stands down, thanking the shop owner with a nod and generous payment, before slinging the bag over his shoulder and pushing through the crowd towards the door his target had entered.

His heart pumped nervously, What if this is Alune’s next ploy? Convince Aphelios to buy some odd commodity, befriend the shopkeep, and eventually take him inside to be assassinated. He wouldn’t put it past her. Sett cursed himself for getting too comfortable.

The sign above the store they’d entered read The Fountain in small, mundane font. Thatch fencing blocked the window used for transactions, but the door to the left was propped open ever so slightly. The shop showed all the signs of being closed. Sett hesitated out front. It would be difficult to explain his reason for trespassing. Especially for a man he’d pummeled and disgraced just a month before. Why couldn’t he stop his heart from pounding?

The door was gently pushed open by a pale hand.

“Well, are you going to join us or what?” the hooded man asked, peering out from the opening, a purple horn just barely visible under the cover. Sett froze, words failing to spill out his open mouth. Not only had he let a possible scheme by Alune fly under his radar, but Aphelios had seen him following behind too. He really was losing his touch.

For a few moments more, Sett stood agape, before clamping his mouth shut with a gulp and wordlessly accepting the invitation inside.

The room was small and mundane, just as the font had been, with only a table, two chairs, and a lantern present. Along the back wall was another door that promised the secret riches and wares the shop must hold, but upon first impressions, Sett was unable to work out what the selling items actually were.

“This is Shaahil,” Aphelios gestured to the shopkeep he had shared whispers with, who was leaning up against the corner of the room. “We have him to thank for giving us this private place to speak.” Sett heard faint snores echoing from the man.

“Privacy from himself as well,” Aphelios added. 

He took his cloak off and sat down in one of the chairs, motioning for Sett to do the same. Sett obliged. He scanned the room thoroughly but saw no sign of the transient twin he’d expected to be present.

“And her too. But I’m afraid that won’t last for long.”

“How did you know?” Sett asked, finally able to put words in his mouth.

“That you were looking for Alune? Or that you were following me?” Aphelios asked back. “Well, both have the same answer, because it’s obvious.”

Sett had no response.

“But right now, I’m going to be doing the asking, and you’re going to answer,” Aphelios said, a shadow clouding his expression. He leaned forward onto the table.

“I don’t really care that you’ve been following me. I don’t care to know why, either. Whether it’s just curiosity or you’ve been waiting for the right time to finally finish me off, none of that matters to me,” he stared Sett straight in the eyes. It was a disconcerting, scrutinizing stare, but Sett found himself unable to look away.

“What I need to know,” Aphelios continued darkly, “is why you couldn’t do things right the first time around.”

Sett’s heart dropped. He knew eventually he would have to explain himself, that stalking Aphelios from the shadows could only last as long as the sun didn’t rise. But it always did, each and every morning, it’s light just as revealing as it was blinding.

“I don’t know,” Sett answered simply.

Before Aphelios could speak, Sett raised his hands to stop him.

“Listen, if I knew any better, I would’ve already told you,” he said. “I have no idea what stopped me that day. Or what keeps bringing me back to you.

“It’s like there’s this voice in my head and it keeps telling me that there’s something different about you. Something special. And for some reason it’s convinced that saving you, protecting you , is the right thing to do,” Sett finished, laying his hands flat on the table.

For a while, Aphelios said nothing. His eyes were penetrating, scouring the depths of Sett’s own, perhaps looking for more answers in a soul that couldn’t speak. Then he laughed. If Alune’s laugh was wind chimes, then Aphelios’s could be a symphony. It was robust, full, and made Sett wish he could listen to it for an entire night.

Aphelios stopped laughing but continued to grin while he spoke, “If you really wanted to be around me that bad, all you had to do was ask.” 

Sett had no idea his heart knew how to do a backflip. He was speechless yet again.

“I’ve been an outcast my whole life, Settrigh. My life has been the same after as it was before we fought,” Aphelios explained, taking Sett’s silence for confusion. “But being on that stage was the first time I felt alive. I felt seen .

“At first I was angry, yes. I couldn’t understand why you did what you did. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that just like all those people, you saw me too. Whatever it was that you saw is what made you stop. So that’s why I asked you. I just had to know what it was you saw, what made you stop.”

“I saw you,” Sett echoed. “And you were beautiful.”   

Chapter Text

Sett had been alone for most of his life. He loved his parents dearly and treasured his relationship with them above all. But at a young age, when his spirit had found its purpose, he was forced to leave the comfort of home behind and strike out on his own. From that day on, he became a vessel. His fists were hired, his will was commanded, but no connections lasted longer than their contracts. The nighttimes were his own, independent yet isolated. 

So how he found himself, beaten and bruised after a particularly difficult day of challenges, waiting expectantly outside the guest cabin on Soraka’s property, was unfathomable. Aphelios threw open the door with a frown.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

Sett smiled, “Hello to you too.”

Aphelios stepped back to let him enter the building, which Sett did gratefully, ducking his head under the doorway and nodding in the direction of Alune. If she noticed the greeting, she didn’t acknowledge it. 

“Are you ready to go?” Sett asked. 

“No,” Aphelios answered firmly, guiding Sett to sit on the couch against the back wall of the room. “We are dealing with this first.”

The spirit of pity, a worrisome doctor, had gifted Aphelios the guest cabin (one of a few she had that tended to remain unoccupied) after his challenge months ago. She claimed that he and Alune could live there as long as the space wasn’t needed. It would be a while before that offer expired, so he had taken to decorating the space in simple fashion. The couch Sett now sat on was mirrored by another, divided by a warm rug and brick fireplace that crackled loudly in the night. On the right half of the space, closer to the doorway, was a modest kitchen and table, and another door that led into a single bedroom.

Aphelios disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared with a medicinal kit, to which Sett groaned.

“Really, ‘Phel, I’ll be alright. The shops are going to close soon anyways and-” his protests were silenced by a soft hand on his shoulder. Aphelios stood over him, his eyes said everything his voice did not.

“Lean forward,” Aphelios ordered and sat down beside him. Sett obliged, crossing his arms over his knees and hanging his head in defeat. He heard Aphelios tsk, most likely at the angry red gash that Sett could feel tearing apart his left shoulder blade. Or maybe at the purple and blue bruise that had begun to blossom along his lower back. Or the-

Sett hissed as a cold balm made contact with the open wound.

“Sorry,” Aphelios whispered. “I have to do this, your strength means nothing if it gets infected.” Sett knew he was right, from taking care of his own injuries plenty of times in the past, but he wasn’t about to let Aphelios know that.

“Who did this?” Aphelios asked, attempting to distract from the pain while he rubbed in the disinfectant.

Sett raised his head up and stared out the opposite window, “Some swordsman from the outskirts. Apparently she claimed to be the ‘best in all the land’ and someone wanted to test that theory.”

“So, was she?”

“I’ve fought better,” Sett shrugged, wincing at how it shifted the gash. “But the Noxian brawler who came before her helped even the odds a little.” Aphelios hummed sympathetically. He put away the ointment and pulled out a spool of gauze. Sett’s breath hitched as Aphelios’s arms found their way around his chest to tightly wrap the wound. It was an intimate position, one that he didn’t dare disturb with words. He found himself disappointed when the contact finally ended.

“Take this. Then we can go,” Aphelios said, handing him a small vial filled with a deep green liquid. Sett eyed it suspiciously.

“It’ll help with the pain, trust me,” Aphelios clarified further. With a begrudging grunt of gratitude, Sett took the strange tonic and downed it, ignoring the way it seemed to cling to the sides of his throat on the way down. He returned the vial and looked at Aphelios expectantly. The moon spirit stood and grabbed his coat, a gilded blue that matched the beads on his neck and wrists.

“Thank you,” Sett said, already feeling the potion ease some of the tension in his back and shoulders. He stood and stretched. If they didn’t get to town soon, most of the shops would be closed. 

Sett didn’t bother wearing a disguise anymore as much of the clamor surrounding him had faded away as new events and drama swept the lands up in their wildfire spread. And if there were whispers exchanged about the spirit of challenge spending most nights with his greatest mishap by his side, they were easily silenced by a fist or blade. It wasn’t uncommon for the great fighter to be seen out with a figure of interest anyways, they could only comment on how unusually long this one lasted. Otherwise, his day job had returned in full force.

The two managed to make it before the stands closed down. They made their rounds through the streets, stocking up on food and other miscellaneous supplies that the next days would need, before finally arriving at The Fountain . In his now numerous visits to the shop, Sett learned that it was an apothecary of sorts. At least that’s what Shaahil steadfastly claimed. However instead of providing general medicinal remedies, he tended to favor clients that had more particular needs, Aphelios among them.

“It’s a bonding tonic, he says,” Aphelios had explained once, when they were enjoying a warm meal by the fireplace.

“Twins like us aren’t supposed to exist. So the world tries its best to get rid of one of us. My parents wanted a daughter, though, so they wouldn’t let the world take Alune,” Aphelios stared into the fire forlornly. “They hired Shaahil to find a way to keep her here, and this was the best he could do. Keeping her tethered to the world through me, through this liquid.”

Sett had wondered at the time if Alune was aware of this, if her plan to find peace all along was to cut down the last thing that was tying her to the world. He didn’t entertain the thought very long. Trying to fully understand her motives would be enough to drive him crazy.

“G’evening,” Shaahil said, passing the bottle through his shop window. Aphelios accepted it silently, sliding back two coins and nodding appreciatively. Quiet, succinct, and familiar. Sett observed the conduct as he did every other night, knowing that deviation from the routine would throw the shopkeep into an uncontrolled rage. He didn’t dare to interrupt them anymore.

Aphelios turned and smiled, his signal that they were done. Sett smiled back and led the way through the thinning crowds and out into the less populated woodlands. Despite the full moon above, the trees discouraged most travelers with their foreboding darkness. Luckily for Sett, his badgers easily lit the path, playfully tussling with each other as they did so.

“Let’s drop it all off at my place first. There’s somewhere I want to show you,” Sett suggested. Aphelios looked up at him curiously, features gently highlighted by the spirit glow, and Sett wished that he could live in that image forever.

The walk to his cabin had become just as familiar. Sett couldn’t believe that until mere months ago he had always made it alone. The air seemed lighter, the grass softer, and the sounds sweeter, when there was somebody else to share it with.

They left their bags of goods on Sett’s singular desk before ducking back out into the now complete darkness, following Sett’s lead north down an unmarked path. He’d lived in the woodlands so long that navigating them had become secondhand, even without the stars above to guide him. Aphelios trailed hesitantly behind him.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asked finally, when the direction of their journey had yet to be made clear.

“I’ve been meaning to take you here,” Sett dodged the question. “But I wanted to wait until the full moon. You’ll see.” Aphelios wasn’t satisfied with the answer but continued along. He would’ve been lost long ago without the other’s guidance anyways.

A faint glow on the horizon heralded their growing proximity to the destination.

“Okay, okay, close your eyes,” Sett said excitedly, stopping to face Aphelios. The moon spirit reached his neck to peer around his large form unsuccessfully.

Sett placed his hands on the others shoulders to stop him from moving and looked him in the eyes, “ ‘Phel please, for me?”

“Fine,” Aphelios acquiesced, unable to resist the pleading stare. He squeezed his eyes shut. Sett beamed, taking hold of Aphelios’s hand and slowly guiding him forward, careful to avoid the thick brush and branches ahead.

“Okay, we’re here.”

Aphelios opened his eyes. The dense treeline had disappeared from his view, opening up into a vast clearing bathed in moonlight. Ponds of water flowed organically through the rolling hills and sparse cherry blossom trees. Blue lotuses explored the water freely, dancing and twirling languidly in the light breeze, trailing ripples of the moon’s glow in their wake. His breath was gone, stolen by the natural beauty of the landscape. A mischievous ploy that Aphelios was happy to be a part of, he would gladly give up all the words he would ever say if it meant he could stay in this scenery forever.

“Well, Mooncake, what do you think?” Sett asked, arms outstretched to present.

Aphelios tore his eyes away from the landscape to gaze at Sett, finding that the view was hardly any less admirable.

“It’s gorgeous,” he breathed. The subject was purposefully left ambiguous. He didn’t overlook the burning warmth surrounding his hand from where it had been held only moments before.

“Come on, the water should still be warm,” Sett said, a twinkle in his eye. 

The enclave was a well kept secret of his. If one was determined enough to brave the fearsome woodlands, they would stumble upon a magical treasure unlike any other. Aphelios was now the first to have ever done so besides himself. Sett wouldn’t have it any other way.

He walked down the hillside to where his toes were just barely glancing the waterline. A thin veil of steam was visible on top of the pond, confirming his previous statement. The warm air and scent of flowers wafted into his nose to which he inhaled greedily. He turned and waved Aphelios over.

“Sett, this is…” Aphelios trailed off, ambling towards him.

“Pretty cool, right?” Sett said. 

When they were side by side, he felt Aphelios’s hand brush against his shyly. A suggestion, an invitation, asking him Where will you take me next? Sett answered the question earnestly. He took hold of Aphelios’s hand once more and pulled them into the water together, wading until the small waves lapped at their hips.

In the glow of the full moon, he drew Aphelios close. No phase of the moon could ever outshine the one standing in front of him. He was captivated, entranced, by the figure he held. Aphelios was a work of masterful marble sculpture that should’ve been preserved in a museum gallery long ago, for Sett to enjoy from a safe distance.    

Spirit energy from the forest, flowers, and sky began to swirl around them, forming ribbons of luminescence that danced playfully in the breeze. This time it was not summoned by his pain or agony, but an emotion much more raw and powerful.

Eyes met, lips brushed, and in that moment nothing else existed but two spirits locked in wordless embrace. Sett cupped Aphelios’s cheek tenderly. He opened his mouth, to ask, to promise, to confess, but any words to come were quickly silenced as Aphelios rose to meet soft lips with his own. I know, they told him. Warmth erupted from his heart, like a spirit blossoming.                                                   

It was a kiss that voiced a thousand feelings. 

That hunger for one another began when fists met blades, and was satisfied when the only red remaining was lips and tongues.  

That both were finally allowed to live for themselves, and not just exist as the extension of another. 

That Sett would never again be alone, and Aphelios would never again be invisible. 

Chapter Text

Sett felt a tear roll down his cheek. It fell onto the paper he held, turning a spot of writing into a smear. The handwriting was shaky, inconsistent, and dried smudges revealed where tears had already fallen before. The words he read were knives, piercing his heart with each new sentence.

How could he?  

It was a letter from Ma that he’d received late in the night and sat down at his desk to read. At first it was nostalgic, endearing, recounting their time together as a family. Then it was longing, wistful, thinking what could have been had they continued to live together. Finally it was hurt, abandoned, explaining the sudden reality of Pa leaving her behind.

How dare he?

He left, and she blamed herself.

Sett’s knuckles were white, threatening to tear the letter and all the evidence of her pain apart. The candle on his desk flickered. He closed his eyes and wiped away the wave of tears beginning to form. 

“You have to leave, don’t you,” a low voice said behind him. Sett breathed deeply, preparing to face the transparent observer.

“Let’s talk outside,” Sett whispered, gesturing to the bed where Aphelios slept. “I don’t want to wake him just yet.” Alune nodded and disappeared from his sight. He sighed, pinching out the candle flame and slowly getting to his feet. Sett paused before stepping outside, turning to look at the spirit resting peacefully on his bed once more, a pang of guilt running through him. I’ll tell him later .

The woods were dark and still, the blanket of night resting heavy upon the trees. Alune was barely visible, as she had her back turned to him and her head turned to the sky, perhaps searching in vain for any hints of the new moon piercing through.

Sett began, “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“No one ever does,” Alune responded, turning to look at him. Her eyes were hollow, as he usually saw them, but a tinge of sympathy had begun to creep in.

“I don’t want to go,” he said helplessly.

“No one ever does,” she repeated. “But sometimes we have to.”

He moved to speak again but she waved him not to.

“You don’t have to explain why. Just promise me you’ll see it through, whatever it is,” Alune said. “At least make leaving worth it.”

Sett leaned back against the side of his house, a hand rubbing his cheek thoughtfully. Their relationship was complex. It had begun with complete animosity, but over time had transformed into a sort of begrudging respect for one another, and an agreement to move on. Alune had every right to ask him to agree to that. She also had every right to demand an explanation, reasoning, certainties, but she hadn’t.

“I’ll see it through. I promise,” he said finally, hoping there was enough conviction in his voice to convince her. “But-”

“You don’t have to worry about him either,” Alune smiled. It was the first time since their introduction that he’d seen that expression, a twinkle of affection lighting her eyes for just a moment.

“I’ve learned a lot. About him, about myself. About you, even,” she continued. 

“Besides, I got to see how powerful we could be, together, when he challenged you. I still want to find my peace someday. But now I know there is strength to be had in being troubled Maybe even more than I know. I need him alive to find that out.”

Her justification was vague, foreboding, but Sett was more than satisfied. Dredging up past events wasn’t going to help them move forward, but at least she was able to acknowledge her place in his worries. Before Sett could thank her for the reassurance, Alune winked and fully disappeared into the night. The door beside him opened slowly. 

Aphelios emerged from behind it, eyes bleary with sleep and a slight pout.

“Why are you out here?” he yawned. “It’s cold.” Sett snatched his arm and yanked him into a tight embrace, pressing Aphelios’s head against his shoulder.

“Not anymore it’s not,” Sett breathed. Tears pricked at the edge of his vision. He placed a soft kiss on top of the moon spirit’s head, taking a moment to savor the fresh scent of lotus that lay in his hair.

“Let’s go back inside,” he said sweetly, letting Aphelios pull away slightly to look him in the eyes. Sett didn’t dare let a single tear fall. Aphelios smiled, which was broken by another yawn, before turning to lead the way back indoors.

They climbed into bed once more, as they did every other night. It wasn’t long before Aphelios was fast asleep, chest rising and falling rhythmically, begging Sett to stay just one more night. But every night he wasted was more time that his father had to run, with so many already lost in the time it took for the letter to deliver. If he wanted to catch up, he couldn’t spare even just one more night. His heart was shattered.

In the scattered pieces, Sett was able to find the strength to stand quietly and pack his things. He grabbed only the necessities, hesitating once he reached his desk. Atop it rested the letter and something far more special. A light blue beaded bracelet, gifted by Aphelios after their first night under the full moon, that he’d taken off to avoid breaking during his brawls. Sett picked it up and slid it onto his wrist, silently vowing to never remove it until they met again.

The spirit badgers were awoken by his shuffling, stretching lazily and peering at him with curious eyes. He crouched to give them a quick scratch before summoning them to his fists. He had everything he needed to go.

There was only one more thing left to do.

–

When Aphelios woke, the first thing he noticed was the blinding sun shining on his face. The next was the empty space beside him. He vaguely remembered being woken up in the middle of the night by Sett’s absence, but he thought that situation had been resolved. Aphelios sat up and yawned.

Glancing around the cabin filled him with a building sense of dread. Numerous items were missing, Sett’s faithful spirit badgers included. He stood up with a start.

“Sett?” Aphelios called, walking outside and squinting against the morning sun. The trees rustled slightly but gave no answer. He went back inside to investigate.

The desk to his right was the only place that appeared more cluttered than before. On top of it rested two letters, one open and ragged, the other neatly folded. Aphelios sat in the chair and picked up the closed one, Mooncake written on its front. His heart sank.

What he read inside brought tears to his eyes. It explained everything. Why Sett had to leave, why he had to go alone, how hard it would be, how badly he wished to stay. And Aphelios knew he couldn’t be mad, despite the tumultuous emotions that bucked and thrashed inside his chest.

Their time together he had never taken for granted. He knew that eventually either of them would be called to duty somewhere. Such was the burden of power a strong spirit carried. But for now Aphelios grieved, teased by the taste that a ‘maybe forever’ had left on his tongue.

He read Sett’s final words over and over again. Engraving them into his mind and heart, they were a permanent reminder that he would always exist to someone else, and a mantra that would ultimately drive him to scour the lands in the search of his lover, hoping to spend just one more night together. 

I love you to the moon.

–             

So when the people of Ionia saw the moon disappear from the sky, they would take the night to stay inside and hold their family close. Lights would be dimmed and the streets would be left empty and cold. They would tell their children to not make a fuss just this once, because the moon spirits would watch over them every other night but this one. 

“And why?” the children would ask.

And while the parents would tell all sorts of stories about great spirits of the past, they would be extra sure to explain that during the new moon, the spirit of the moon is away searching. They would explain how he lost something dear to him, something that he loved as much as they loved their kids, and they could all help by staying inside and staying quiet. The kids would eagerly do their best, much to the parent’s relief, and awaken the next day ready to continue the Spirit Blossom celebrations.

If the lights and the noise weren’t so quick to return, maybe one year the people would notice how the next day there seemed to be an unexplained blooming of purple lotuses mixed with trailings of spirit dust. 

And if they did notice, they would secretly turn to their loved ones with a smile and a kiss, and say 

I love you to the moon.