Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jayce Talis wondered how it had come to this. Before the war, he had been considered the brightest promise of his city—one of the most brilliant alchemists of his generation. Now he was stuck behind a desk, trying to bring order to the fledgling government Piltover had imposed on newly conquered Zaun. After the incident in the laboratory, he had been given two options: exile or the frontlines. He chose the second, still believing in the ideals of his nation, even though its rulers had turned their backs on him.

Three years on the front had left their mark. At first, he had blindly believed that Piltover was waging war to free Zaun from tyranny. He had been wrong. The so-called City of Progress was only interested in extracting more resources. Besides, Zaun had something that Piltover feared—magic. While magical arts had been strictly banned in Piltover for centuries, Zaun had hosted flourishing schools of magic for millennia.

Jayce had seen them in action during the war. He bore several scars from magical attacks that had barely grazed him. If not for the anti-magic armor he had developed with Heimerdinger, all the soldiers would have died in the first strike. Magic was both terrifying and fascinating.

In the end, Piltover had won through strategy, not military might. After two months of siege, King Vander had emerged from behind the walls to announce his surrender. He had lost sovereignty, but he had saved thousands of Zaunites.

When the war ended, Jayce had tried to return to Piltover. He was exhausted, wounded, and widely considered a war hero. He thought his past sins had been forgiven. However, his old friend Caitlyn Kiramman advised him to delay his return and offered him a position in the new colonial government, of which she had just been appointed commander. “Wait until things settle,” she had said. During the war, some of his detractors had lost influence—but others had risen.

And so he found himself, two years after the war, trying to make sense of his life while dealing with a never-ending line of Zaunites. Only the first few months had been calm. The capital's residents had been too afraid to approach the new government, but over time, they had resumed the old custom of coming to the palace to ask the local authority to solve their problems. Caitlyn was too busy, so the job of dealing with the public had fallen to Jayce. He soon realized that, despite the dark legends spread in Piltover, the late King Vander had been an excellent administrator, and Zaun had enjoyed peace and prosperity during his reign. Things were very different now.

After seeing the last petitioners, Jayce headed to the old throne room, now the office of Commander Caitlyn Kiramman. It was their custom to meet in the late afternoon. Caitlyn always consulted him before making decisions. Over time, she had grown quite distrustful. The young woman clung to the idea of bringing progress to Zaun and feared that other people's interests would hinder her work. She had already rejected countless proposals to exploit the mines or build industrial zones. First, she wanted to earn the people's trust.

That day, Caitlyn looked particularly troubled. As soon as Jayce sat across from her desk, she handed him the scroll she was holding. Jayce examined the document. It was an edict, signed by several counselors, "inviting" the commander to continue the extermination of mages in Zaun's provinces. The scroll listed alleged sightings of dangerous mages in the southern regions.

"Who leaked the information?" Jayce asked.

Caitlyn sighed.

"I still don’t know."

Jayce frowned. It was a delicate situation. Someone in Caitlyn’s inner circle was acting on behalf of a political enemy of House Kiramman. With these moves, they were surely trying to prove the commander unfit for her role, likely to propose someone with different interests.

"This sounds like Salo’s work," he commented. "You know he doesn’t think highly of us."

"That man only cares about getting rich. If it were up to him, he'd sell every Council member into slavery—but that's not the point."

Jayce looked at his friend seriously.

"What do you suggest?"

"We need to address the mage issue. If word gets out, there will be a scandal. You know people in Piltover faint when they hear the word ‘magic.’ Remember what happened to you."

"Of course I remember." Jayce closed his eyes. Five years had passed, and the wound still festered.

"Then this is what I propose." Caitlyn began to speak softly. "You, more than anyone, know the reality of this country. The few mages who survived the extermination, however powerful, live in constant fear of execution. They’re scattered across the provinces and currently pose no threat."

Jayce nodded.

"The reports we received are the result of paranoid soldiers reacting to an incident from several months ago," Caitlyn continued. "Besides, the south is a hostile, inaccessible region. Nothing can survive there."

Jayce nodded again.

"What you’re trying to say is that if there was a magic user there, they’re probably already dead. Right?"

"Exactly." Caitlyn paused. "Still, I want a small squad to go inspect the area. Consider it an administrative task."

"Perfect, the expedition can begin tomorrow. Who’ll be in charge?"

At that moment, Caitlyn’s expression changed, as if she wasn’t sure of what she was about to say.

"I want you to go, Jayce."

Jayce was stunned.

"Me? Why?"

The commander rolled her eyes.

"Because you’re a war hero, an alchemist, you have field experience, and my full trust. Besides, I think this is a chance to clear your name."

Jayce remained silent for a few moments. He didn’t know what to say. He felt Caitlyn was being too optimistic. By assigning him this mission, she was putting herself at risk. Many still considered him a traitor. It was one thing to be behind a desk writing reports on Zaun’s situation, and another to lead an expedition on which the commander’s credibility would depend. But Caitlyn was a smart woman, and Jayce wanted to trust her. She was the only one who had never abandoned him.

He ran his hand along the scar at the back of his neck.

"Alright, Cait," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Besides, I haven’t left the castle in months. I could use the stretch."

Caitlyn smiled—she seemed genuinely relieved. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Jayce."

They spent the rest of the afternoon making preparations.

That night, Jayce couldn’t sleep. Every time he managed to doze off, strange flashes from a magical system appeared in his mind—just like the day of the incident. He awoke in a panic each time. He hadn’t had those dreams since the war.

Before dawn the next day, he set off.

***

It took them several days to reach the site of the supposed sighting. What many still failed to grasp was that, unlike Piltover’s flat, accessible geography, the landscape of Zaun was nature’s chaotic masterpiece. Except for the capital, the entire country was a labyrinth of mountain ranges, tunnel networks, and towering cliffs that hindered communication between regions. Moreover, many roads had been destroyed during the war. With every step he took, Jayce was reminded of the battlefields. The same devastation. The same silence.

The squad had originally consisted of five men. By the third day of the journey, one of them had been attacked by a wild animal, forcing another soldier to escort him back to the capital. Thus, only three had reached their destination: Jayce, Loris — a hulking veteran soldier — and Steb, a young scout. The three had served under Caitlyn during the war. Despite knowing each other for years, none of them spoke much. After all, their shared memories were far from pleasant.

They knew they were nearing their destination when they reached a small village, one of the most remote settlements in the country, inhabited by only a handful of people. Though they wore no insignia identifying them with Piltover’s government, the locals eyed them with suspicion. Most of them were farmers who barely spoke the common tongue. Yet, thanks to Loris’s charm and Jayce’s persistence, a few dared to share some interesting tales.

It had happened a few days after King Vander’s surrender. A traveler had passed through the village. Wrapped in a cloak, his face remained hidden, but they had glimpsed his hands and legs, which were badly wounded. He had rested in the village for only a few hours before disappearing.

A few days later, soldiers arrived, searching for supposed rebels. They intended to head toward the mines, but just as they were about to set off, they claimed to have seen strange lights in the woods. From that point on, none of the soldiers — too superstitious — dared to investigate further. Instead, they spent days intimidating the villagers, trying to extract information. They found nothing.

Jayce couldn’t help but feel guilty for these unnecessary displays of authority. It was clear that this village harbored no dangerous mages. They even mentioned that they had once an old healer, but he had died years before the war. They had nothing to hide.

As for the mysterious traveler, he had likely succumbed to his wounds. Besides, there was no certainty he had been a mage or that he had sought refuge in the mines. Nonetheless, they had a duty to follow the lead and investigate the area.

They hired a local elder as a guide — a man who claimed to know the region well. The old man warned them that winter was near and it was unwise to venture deeper into the territory, but he agreed to lead them to the abandoned mines. They set off at dawn. Despite being a reconnaissance mission, they were well-armed.

It took them nearly half a day to reach the entrance to the first mine. Along the way, they had noticed nothing out of the ordinary. They inspected the entrance for any sign of human presence but found nothing that warranted venturing inside. So, Jayce lingered for a while, studying the ancient runes etched onto the massive stone archway carved into the mountain. The old man seemed to notice his interest.

“Those runes are an old protection spell — to prevent cave-ins and to offer thanks to the mountain,” the elder said, pointing toward the archway. “The mines were abandoned during my great-grandfather’s time, back when Zaun stopped paying tribute to Noxus.” The old man paused, lowering his voice. “The elder mages believed the mountain was angry, so they decided to let it rest.”

Jayce nodded appreciatively. He hadn’t expected such a detailed explanation. He quickly jotted down a note.

“Did you ever enter the mines?” he asked.

The elder chuckled.

“As a child, I sneaked in a couple of times with my brothers,” the old man said. “But we never went far. The mine is vast — easy to get lost in. But…”

Jayce glanced at the elder, who seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Finally, he went on.

“Some mages would come from time to time and venture inside the mines. At night, the forest would light up, like giant fireflies floating toward the sky.” The old man smiled, closing his eyes as if savoring the memory. “On their way, the mages would pass through the village, but we never dared to ask about their rituals. We simply… trusted them. It was a different time, back when the land still spoke…”

Sadness flickered across the elder’s face. Jayce had seen it before. The Zaunites, especially the older ones, often had a sort of reverence for those chosen by the Arcane, a faith that remained unshaken despite Piltover’s propaganda. Jayce remembered the inconsolable cries of the people when the soldiers burned down the Magic Academy.

He scribbled a quick note about the lights in the forest. Perhaps there was, after all, a reason to suspect the presence of a magic user. Then again, it could simply be a superstition. It was too early to draw conclusions.

Dusk was falling when they reached the second mine. Once again, they found no signs of life. The archway resembled the first, except for a pair of runes etched onto the columns — fresher than the others. The elder couldn’t explain their meaning. Nor could he recall if they had always been there. Just as Jayce finished writing in his notebook, the old man warned that a storm was approaching.

They began the trek back as the first snowflakes started to fall. After several hours, they reached a narrow rope bridge spanning a deep ravine. Loris crossed first, helping the elder. Steb followed. But as Jayce set his foot on the first plank, a thunderous crash echoed above. He looked up just in time to leap backward, narrowly missing the massive boulder tumbling from the cliff. In seconds, the bridge was ruined.

From the other side of the ravine, Jayce could see the fear on his companions’ faces.

“Don’t worry!” he shouted. “Go back to the village and complete the mission. I’ll find another way around.”

He saw the elder gesturing, saying something to Loris, as if insisting they couldn’t leave him behind. But Loris and Steb were soldiers, trained to follow orders. Jayce watched as they disappeared down the path. He could only hope they made it back safely.

His mind raced. Night was falling, and it would be safest to return to the second mine’s entrance to shelter from the storm. There, he’d have another chance to study the fresher runes. Tomorrow, he’d search for another way around the ravine. He began walking.

Hours passed. The snowstorm intensified, and darkness swallowed the landscape. He should have reached the mine’s entrance by now, but he couldn’t recognize the path. Panic began to creep in. His feet throbbed, and his back ached from the weight of his pack and his hammer. He didn’t want to admit he was lost. If he’d survived the war, he could survive this. He kept walking.

Suddenly, a sound behind him. He spun around to find a massive cave wolf staring back at him. Jayce gripped his hammer, ready to fight. Then, he noticed more shadows emerging. To kill one cave wolf was a difficult feat. Taking on a pack was suicide. He slung the hammer back over his shoulder and did what instinct demanded — he ran.

He ran as fast as he could. The beasts’ snarls and heavy breaths echoed behind him. They were massive creatures, which gave Jayce a slight advantage in agility. He darted between fallen trunks and scattered rocks, trying to shake them off. After a few minutes, he realized only one remained. He was exhausted, but he was ready to fight. He glanced over his shoulder to size up his pursuer and reached for his hammer.

Then, suddenly, his foot slipped.

Unable to grasp what was happening, he tumbled down the slope, the world spinning into a chaotic blur. The hammer struck his leg mid-fall, a searing bolt of pain tearing through him. A strangled cry escaped his throat as he kept plummeting. It felt like an eternity before his body collided with the ground. In the dying light, he managed to glimpse the steep walls of the ravine rising around him. Then, the world slipped away into darkness.

The storm raged above as a shadowed figure drifted to the edge of the precipice, a staff in hand. He peered down into the abyss, as if searching for something — or someone. After a moment, he stepped back, a glint of certainty in his eyes.

Minutes later, he reappeared at the bottom of the ravine, moving with cautious steps toward Jayce’s limp form. He paused, looming over the fallen man, and pressed his hand to Jayce’s neck. Upon feeling a pulse, he exhaled softly and withdrew.

Raising the staff, he began to weave intricate sigils in the air, each line shining through the night like molten silver. Time itself seemed to hold its breath as the symbols coalesced into a luminous circle, its glow spilling over the ravine.

The figure stepped closer, and as the circle descended upon them, its light enfolding them both, they vanished. Moments later, the snowstorm abated, and the moon broke through the clouds.

Chapter Text

Jayce opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity. He looked around and saw that he was in his old laboratory. The walls were lined with his notes on alchemy. On one wall was the design of his anti-magic armor, the product of his collaboration with Professor Heimerdinger. On another, all the accolades he had received from the Alchemy Academy and the Council of Piltover. Everything seemed in order. A wave of relief washed over him.

Was he dead? Probably, because he had returned to the place where he had been happiest. Or perhaps life had given him another chance. What if it was all a bad dream?

He approached the notes from his most recent theory, his controversial attempt to recreate magical crystals through alchemical methods. He had spent his entire career preparing for this. It was the dream of his life. He believed that with that discovery, he would restore to the citizens of Piltover what they had lost to ignorance. Or perhaps it was just his ego, his secret desire to be chosen by the Arcane.

Suddenly, a surge of anger overtook him, and he began tearing apart his notes. Despite how much he loved that research, it had ruined his life. It had stolen the chance to practice alchemy and the reins of his own existence. As he shredded the scrolls, the room began to fill with a strange blue light. It was too late. The experiment had already begun. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the explosion. Tears streamed down his face.

He woke up with a start. It took him a moment to remember the last few months of his life. The humiliation. The war. His work with Caitlyn. His mission...

He brought a hand to his cheeks. The tears were real. After all, life didn't give second chances. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked around. He realized he had no idea where he was.

From what he could see, he noticed he was in some kind of cave. The rough walls were covered in mold, and tiny crystals seemed to shimmer among the rocks. A small torch illuminated the surroundings. Behind him, there was a wall of solid rock. Beyond that, he could only see complete darkness. The place was utterly silent, except for the faint echo of falling water nearby. The air was thick with a penetrating scent of dampness.

He realized he was lying on an old bed, mostly made of rusted metal. He sat up with difficulty and noticed that someone had removed his armor and dressed him in clean clothes. His body was wrapped in a massive animal hide, probably a bear’s, to shield him from the cold and moisture of the cave. A few feet away from the bed, a campfire was dying out.

Fear began to creep in. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, nor who had rescued him. He thought that Loris and Steb might have come back for him, but it could just as easily have been a rebel group that had found him. If they realized he was a Piltovian envoy, things could go very wrong.

Jayce searched for his hammer with his gaze but couldn’t find it. Just then, he heard the echo of footsteps in the distance. He tried to stand up immediately, but a sharp pain in his left leg sent him crashing to the ground. That’s when he became aware of how weak and sore he felt. Unable to rise on his own, he clung to the bedframe to pull himself up. If it was an enemy, he would not die without a fight.

The footsteps grew closer, and every aching muscle in his body tensed, ready to strike. A silhouette appeared in his line of vision.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that.”

The figure approached slowly. Jayce followed him with his eyes, noticing that he was limping, leaning on his staff. When he was just a few feet away, he raised a hand and pulled back his hood.

He was a man between twenty and thirty years old. He was dressed in a dark robe that covered his entire body down to his ankles. In Jayce’s eyes, his features were strikingly beautiful. He had pale skin and deep-set eyes. His brown hair fell to his neck. Suddenly, Jayce’s survival instincts were overridden by the appearance of the man who had just emerged from the depths of the cavern.

The sight of him made Jayce momentarily forget his injuries, and without realizing it, he put weight on his wounded leg. The pain made him stagger, but before he hit the ground, the other man rushed forward and caught him with his free hand.

“Sit down,” he ordered, lifting Jayce by the arm and letting him drop heavily onto the bed. Before Jayce could recover from the pain, the other man crouched before him to inspect his leg. He carefully lifted the fabric up to the knee, and Jayce could see the bandage soaked with fresh blood.

“I just cleaned this wound,” he exclaimed, irritated. His words sounded even harsher due to his pronounced accent. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get healing supplies these days?” He began to skillfully unwrap the bandage, and Jayce felt the touch of his cold hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said before he even realized it. He couldn’t understand how, just moments ago, he had been ready to beat the stranger to a pulp, and now he was letting himself be handled so easily.

The other man finished removing the blood-soaked bandage, and Jayce finally saw the state of his leg. Of all the injuries he had received during his years in Zaun, this was one of the worst. The lower part of his leg, especially his ankle, was stained with red and purple bruises. A large, jagged wound ran across his calf. Jayce’s breath caught for a moment. The other man seemed to notice his distress.

“In case you don’t remember, you fell off a cliff,” he said in a low voice as he began to clean the excess blood with the bandage he had just removed. “I didn’t see you fall, but from the way you were lying, it looks like you took quite a blow. You had a fractured leg, a ton of wounds, hypothermia, and a head injury that looked pretty bad.”

The man finished his work and slowly stood up, leaning on his staff. Their eyes met. In the torchlight, his eyes appeared to have a strange golden hue.

“In fact, I was starting to think you wouldn’t wake up,” he added.

“How long was I out?” Jayce asked, not breaking eye contact.

“Thirteen days.”

Jayce brought his hands to his face. Thirteen days was too long. He thought about his mission, about Caitlyn, about his companions. By now, they must have already presumed him dead.

“I need to get out of here,” he said. “They need to know I’m still alive.” Without thinking, he tried to stand up again, but the other man’s hand held him back firmly.

“You just woke up from a coma, and if you take a single step, you’re going to tear your leg apart again. You need to calm down.”

Jayce roughly shoved the other man’s hand away.

“You’re asking me to stay calm, but I don’t even know where I am or who you are,” he shouted. “I appreciate that you saved me, but now I need you to—”

He stopped when he noticed how the other man’s gaze dropped to the ground. That’s when he saw the small puddle of blood forming next to his left foot.

“Oh… shit.”

“You just reopened your wound,” the other man said with unexpected calm. “Your questions will be answered later, but right now, I need you to stay still while I go get the healing supplies.” He took a few steps away, then turned around and added, “Unless you’d rather bleed to death and make me waste the two weeks of my life I spent keeping you alive.”

Jayce stayed still. He was right. In his current state, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“All right.”

A faint smile seemed to flicker across the other man’s face. He walked away in the direction he had come from, using his staff to light his way. Minutes later, he returned with a basket and set it down on the bed. Jayce eyed its contents as the other man settled next to him. Most of the instruments were like those a Piltovian army healer would use, but there were also some vials with unfamiliar substances.

“Are you a healer?” Jayce asked.

“Something like that,” the other man replied. “Let’s just say I had to find a way to make a living. Lie down on your side.”

Jayce obeyed, turning his back to him. He felt the man move closer and start pressing carefully on the wound on his leg. The tips of his fingers were icy cold.

“And what are you doing here?” Jayce took the opportunity to ask. “Actually, I’d like to know where we are.”

“We’re in an old miners’ dormitory,” he answered calmly, “part of the cave system in the Southern Sierra of Zaun, right where the mines connect to the mountain’s natural underground.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “What am I doing here? I suppose the same as you.”

Jayce felt the man pour a liquid over his wounds — probably a cauterizing agent. “Running away from the hostilities of the war. I came here while exploring and… I liked the place. Thanks to the thermal energy, it’s a good spot to get through the winter. Also…” The man paused again, rummaging through the basket to grab another of his tools. “Also… no one comes here to bother you, you know, asking impertinent questions.”

A heavy silence fell between them. It was true. In certain areas of Zaun, the mage hunts had grown so ruthless that even the slightest sign of education could mark someone as a potential magic user. Healers were no exception. Sometimes it seemed like Piltover wanted to plunge Zaun into complete ignorance.

On the other hand, he knew nothing about this man. For starters, considering his frail build, Jayce couldn’t understand how he had managed to rescue him. He also couldn’t understand his motives. He knew that healers took an oath to help anyone in need, but even so, he couldn’t shake his distrust. He suspected his savior had similar feelings. He seemed anything but naive.

A sudden sting in the wound snapped Jayce out of his thoughts. Soon, the discomfort subsided, and he felt the healer wrapping his leg in fresh bandages.

He heard the other man placing the tools back into the basket, and Jayce sat up on the bed. Their eyes met again. While they stared at each other, the healer raised his hand and moved his fingers toward Jayce’s face, to inspect his lower eyelid. It was such a sudden gesture that Jayce didn’t have time to react.

As the healer gently examined him, Jayce noticed that the tips of his fingers had a strange violet hue. The digits disappeared quickly, but their touch lingered on Jayce’s skin.

“You look pale. You need to eat,” the healer stated. He gripped his staff and began walking toward the exit of the room. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to prepare something nutritious. Try not to move.”

Before Jayce could respond, the other man was already gone. Several minutes passed, and the Piltovian lay back down on the bed. He was still overwhelmed by everything that had happened. He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if he was dreaming. After a while, a distant scent of food began to reach him, and he realized just how desperately hungry he was.

A few minutes later, the healer returned, pushing a sort of mining cart, flattened on one side.

“I thought this might work to transport you,” he said.

Jayce sat up on the bed and looked at the cart. It wasn’t the most orthodox solution, but it could work. The other man helped him settle onto the cart and began to push it slowly toward the adjacent tunnel. The ground was smooth enough for the cart to slide along without much trouble.

As they moved, tiny lights began to glow along the walls.

“Are those luminous mosses?” Jayce asked. He’d read about them in a book somewhere, though he couldn’t recall which one. The other man nodded.

“I’ve been spreading them through the tunnels where I move around the most and in the areas where I work. They give the impression of natural light. That’s good for the mind.”

That explained the strange white glow that emanated from his staff…

As the healer finished his last words, the tunnel opened, and they entered what seemed to be one of the main chambers of the underground. The space was vast, large enough to fit a cathedral inside. The ceiling of the cave was covered with thousands of luminous mosses, creating the illusion of a starry sky. Jayce was stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

“Why do you think I haven’t left?” the other man replied. At that moment, he clapped his hands, and the ceiling suddenly lit up. Now it looked as though they were beneath a cloudy sky.

Only then did Jayce notice the rest of the room. In the center was a small table with several chairs. On the table, rudimentary cutlery and two glasses of water were already set. In one corner, a cooking fire had been set up, and a cauldron emitted the scent of food. In another corner, several crates filled with scrolls were piled up. Beside them was another table, seemingly covered with study materials.

“It looks more comfortable than the room I used to rent in the city.”

The other man smiled, clearly proud.

“And you haven’t seen anything yet,” he said as he helped Jayce settle into a chair in front of the table. Then he walked over to the fire and returned with what appeared to be a portion of stew. He placed it in front of Jayce, who remained frozen for a moment, staring at the contents of the bowl.

“It’s mushroom stew,” the man explained before Jayce could ask. “I grew them myself. I found a few varieties of mushrooms and tubers that thrive with thermal heat and moss light. I have a garden further down. I’ll show it to you later.” He then pointed at the glasses of water. “The water comes from a spring. It’s clean, filtered through the mountain stones. I’ve been living off it for months.”

Jayce nodded and took a bite of the stew. It was surprisingly good. Not that it mattered — he would have eaten it regardless. The healer sat down across from him, and they started eating in silence. It was strange to be sharing a meal in such a familiar way with someone he had met only hours ago. Despite the man’s explanations, Jayce still had plenty of unanswered questions.

“Are we far from the entrance?” he ventured after a while.

The other man finished chewing a bite before replying:

“Several hundred meters deep.”

Jayce frowned.

“And how did you manage to bring me all the way here?”

“In a cart,” the other man said, without batting an eye. He paused to take a sip of water. “You were lucky enough to fall near the entrance, so all I had to do was drag you a little.”

Jayce thought for a moment, before asking:

“And couldn’t you take me out the same way?”

The other man smirked, a hint of sarcasm in his expression.

“I could take you out and then…”

“Take me to the nearest town.”

“In a mining cart? In the middle of winter?” The healer was beginning to look slightly irritated. “In case you’re wondering, the paths you took to get here are now covered in snow. For now, we’re cut off.”

Jayce opened his mouth, but the other man interrupted him.

“You have to accept it — we’re trapped here together at least until your leg heals or until winter passes.”

A heavy silence fell between them. Jayce felt a tightness in his chest. Even so, he took another spoonful of the stew.

“But…” The other man spoke after a while, choosing his words carefully. “But your time here doesn’t have to be a punishment.”

Jayce was baffled. He simply couldn’t understand how being trapped in a cave with a stranger, with a broken leg, in one of the most isolated places in the world, could have a positive side. The other man continued:

“From what I saw in the notebook I found among your clothes, you seem to have an interest in old knowledge and…” he gestured toward the scrolls piled up in a corner of the room, “and there are hundreds of old manuscripts here.”

Jayce’s eyes widened in surprise. He had completely forgotten about his notebook. It was relatively new, and although it didn’t contain anything about alchemy, it had several mechanical sketches — ideas Jayce jotted down from time to time. It also had notes on Zaun’s history and geography, nothing that could truly incriminate him. Still, he felt violated.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t read it. Just flipped through it,” the other man said, reading his expression. “Your drawings caught my attention. Looks like you like inventing things. Let’s just say I share a similar interest.” The man paused. “Also, thanks to your notebook, I learned your name, but only because you signed your notes. Every single page, actually. A bit… egotistical, don’t you think?”

Jayce scowled at him.

“Are you insulting me?”

“No, no, I was just… intrigued. Anyway, I’ve been here for a few months, and I haven’t managed to classify or review even a quarter of these texts. Your help would be useful, and I might be able to assist you with whatever you’re seeking. We could… collaborate.”

There was no immediate response. Jayce’s gaze traveled around the room before landing on Viktor’s serious face. He had two options: try to crawl his way out and risk the deadly Zaunite winter or collaborate with a stranger whose motives were far from clear. Once more, life had placed him at an infuriating crossroads.

Jayce let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Viktor,” he replied.

They spent the rest of the day going through the first manuscripts Viktor had found. The subjects varied widely — medicine, architecture, astronomy, literature, engineering, philosophy, biology, even alchemy. To Jayce’s surprise, most of them were texts he had never seen before. He was genuinely intrigued. The thirst for knowledge, long dormant, seemed to stir within him once more.

“I have no idea who brought them here,” Viktor said, “but I feel grateful.”

“So do I,” Jayce replied. He smiled. It was his first genuine smile in years.

They talked for hours. A sudden camaraderie had formed between them. Jayce spoke about his drawings — mostly ideas to improve the quality of life for the people of Zaun. Viktor mentioned some of his theories for perfecting his healing techniques.

After all, it seemed they had similar purposes.

Viktor told him that he had been a healer during the war, though not on the front lines. Jayce said he’d fought too but didn’t specify for which side. Neither of them went into much detail about their pasts, but Jayce did mention he had worked in a forge. That was true. After all, the Talis were still considered great blacksmiths in the Piltover kingdom, and before entering the Alchemy Academy, he had learned the craft from his father. Viktor’s eyes sparkled at this revelation.

“We could set up a forge here,” he said. “That way, we could try to recreate your projects, and you could help me design new medical tools.” Jayce eagerly nodded.

“That’s a great idea. That way, our time here will pass more quickly.”

Viktor promised he would try to find the necessary materials so they could begin as soon as Jayce was in better condition.

They keep talking until the healer suggested Jayce get some rest. According to the quartz clock in the corner of the room, it was already past midnight. Viktor led Jayce back to the bedroom, gave him a pain-relieving potion, and helped him wash his face. He fed the fire, placed an empty bucket near the bed for his bodily needs, and set a bucket of clean water nearby. Lastly, he placed a small bell on the bedframe so Jayce could call for him if there was any issue. Jayce thanked him for his care.

“I promise I’ll repay you when I’m better,” he said. Viktor smiled to himself, wished him good night, and began walking toward the exit.

At that moment, Jayce suddenly remembered his hammer. He hadn’t seen it anywhere, and the healer hadn’t mentioned it either.

“Hey Viktor… When you found me, did you happen to see my Warhammer?” he asked. “I’m sure it must have fallen into the ravine as well.”

Viktor paused and seemed to think for a moment.

“No,” he simply replied. “Good night, Jayce.”

Jayce watched him walk away before he could ask anything else. Suddenly, he felt nervous, but the sleep, enhanced by the pain-relieving potion, began to take over him.

As his companion fell into a deep sleep, Viktor silently made his way down the mountain.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Jayce woke up disoriented. He had dreamed of the incident again. This time, Mel Medarda and Professor Heimerdinger were in the dream, calmly chatting in the middle of the laboratory. Then, as always, the explosion happened, and the dream ended.

He tried to remember if Mel and the professor had ever actually been together in that place. Then it struck him: he hadn’t thought about Mel in years. Even Caitlyn made a point not to mention her in his presence.

As he regained a sense of himself, he heard footsteps approaching through the adjacent tunnel, and Viktor appeared, dressed in a blue robe. He carried his basket of medical supplies over one arm, and atop it, what looked like several neatly folded garments.

“Good morning, Jayce,” his name sounded odd on Viktor’s lips, “I’m here to check your wounds.” Their eyes met, and Jayce felt a flutter in his stomach. He couldn’t understand why he felt that way.

“Good morning,” he replied quickly. Without waiting for instructions, he sat up on the bed, letting his legs dangle over the edge so the other man could examine him. Viktor knelt slowly and repeated the same procedure as the day before to remove the bandage. He seemed satisfied with what he saw.

“After yesterday’s treatment, it’s healing well,” he said. Then he gently pressed on Jayce’s swollen ankle. “The bones seem to be setting, and the swelling is going down.” He passed a damp cloth over the wound to clean it, then wrapped the leg in a fresh bandage. Standing up slowly, he gestured toward Jayce’s torso. “Now I need you to take off your shirt.”

The request caught Jayce off guard. He froze. Sensing his discomfort, Viktor pointed to a spot around his ribs.

“You had a deep cut on your mid-back. You probably got it from a rock when you fell. I just want to make sure it didn’t reopen after all the movement yesterday.”

Jayce sighed in resignation and complied. He turned slightly to give Viktor his back and removed the shirt. A moment later, he felt the healer’s cold fingers pressing a spot beneath his shoulder blades, and a dull pain flared up.

“It’s almost completely closed now, but for the time being, you need to avoid any strain.”

The healer’s fingers left his back and moved to the back of Jayce’s head, as if searching for something. Jayce remembered Viktor had mentioned a blow to the head. He felt a little uneasy but allowed the healer to continue.

“All done,” Viktor said, pulling his hands away. “Everything looks in order.”

Jayce turned around and noticed Viktor’s gaze lingering on his torso. His heart skipped a beat, but he tried to convince himself the man was simply assessing his physical condition. Before he could reach for his shirt, the healer gestured to the clothes he had left on the bed.

“I brought you clean clothes. I think they’re your size,” he said. “If you want, wash up a bit, get changed, and call me when you’re ready—or if you need help. After that, I’ll take you to breakfast. We’ve got work today.”

“Work?” Jayce asked. “But you said I wasn’t supposed to exert myself.”

Viktor smiled.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

He stepped out of the room, and once his footsteps faded, Jayce began carefully removing his pants, mindful not to strain his ankle. Then he stretched to reach the bucket of clean water. As he leaned over it, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He looked haggard, with several bruises on his face. His beard, once meticulously shaved, now covered much of his jawline. He was in rough shape.

He began to understand why Viktor had been so insistent on making him rest.

He took a sip of water, then splashed some onto his face. Carefully, he began to rub it over his body, trying not to get the sheets wet. He wasn’t surprised to find himself covered in small bruises and scrapes—it was the natural consequence of a fall like that.

“Looks like I really was lucky,” he murmured to himself.

He proceeded to get dressed. When it came time to put on the pants, he was tempted more than once to call Viktor for help but resisted the urge. He wanted to preserve what little privacy he had left, though he couldn’t help but think that the healer had probably changed his clothes several times while he was unconscious. The thought made butterflies flutter in his stomach again.

Surprisingly, the clothes fit almost perfectly. The outfit looked like an old miner’s uniform, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Once he was ready, he rang the little bell.

***

Breakfast was another strange recipe that, somehow, tasted surprisingly good. Their eyes met several times as they ate, but neither dared to start a conversation. The silence between them was comfortable.

Once they finished eating, Viktor helped him onto the cart. Jayce assumed he was being taken back to his room, but instead, his companion led him down a different tunnel.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“You’ll see.”

This tunnel was longer than the one that connected his room to the main chamber. The glowing moss lit up as they passed. They entered a chamber nearly as spacious as the previous one, and Viktor clapped his hands sharply, causing the ceiling to illuminate. Then Jayce understood why the healer had said they had work to do.

In one corner of the room, a table had been set up, and the scrolls they’d studied the night before were spread out on top. Two chairs had been placed in front of it. In another corner stood a metal bookshelf filled with what looked like hundreds of documents. Across the room, a small anvil sat alone. Jayce’s heart sped up.

“I prepared this space for our studies,” Viktor explained. “Everything’s nearby, so you can reach it easily.” Then he pointed toward the other side. “That’s where we can place the forge, near the anvil. I want you to design it, so I can start looking for the materials. There are a lot of things here in the mines that we can repurpose, but…”—he gestured to his cane— “I’ll need time to find them.”

Suddenly, Jayce felt a pang of guilt. Designing the forge was the least he could do to repay Viktor’s kindness. And besides, he wanted to make the most of his partner’s enthusiasm.

“Your wish is my command,” he said. Viktor smiled. They spent the rest of the morning excitedly planning the forge, until the healer had to step away to prepare lunch and tend to his garden. After eating, they returned to the study hall.

That night, Jayce fell into a deep sleep before the pain potion could even take effect. The mental effort of the day had left him drained. He didn’t even have time to feel nervous.

The same dream returned.

***

The following days followed a similar rhythm. Viktor would come to see him early in the morning, check his wounds, and bring him clean clothes. Then they would have breakfast and move to the study chamber. Viktor didn’t always stay with him—he had other responsibilities, like tending the garden, doing laundry, and preparing meals. He also made occasional expeditions into the mines, which could take several hours.

Sometimes, Jayce caught himself worrying during Viktor’s prolonged absences, but his companion always returned with something new that made him forget his concerns.

On occasion, Viktor would show him materials that didn’t seem to have been buried for decades—or centuries—inside a mine. Whenever Jayce questioned him about their origin, the healer dodged the details.

“Smugglers must’ve brought them,” he would say. “Or maybe it was a traveler.”

Jayce still harbored a trace of suspicion, but he forgot all about it whenever he saw the forge begin to take shape. The same happened with the old scrolls. Many seemed far too advanced. He couldn’t understand why there were so many documents on alchemy, especially since it was never a discipline that had truly flourished in Zaun. Whenever he was alone, Jayce would pour over the manuscripts with growing fascination. He never did so in front of his partner—he didn’t want to raise further questions about their origin.

In his search, he had come across an alchemical theory on metal synthesis that was vaguely related to his last experiment. Without even realizing it, Jayce began to construct ideas in his mind, though he didn’t yet dare commit them to paper.

However, when working with Viktor, their efforts were more focused on ideas that could improve life in Zaun. He thought about cleaning the river, still polluted from the war, and about designing some form of mechanical transport to link the capital to its outlying regions. He had also begun crafting prototypes for Viktor’s new medical tools. Meanwhile, Viktor often focused on his own medicinal research. He was remarkably skilled at mixing ingredients—perhaps that was why he was such a good cook.

One afternoon, Viktor was gone longer than usual, and Jayce began to grow restless. He had spent most of the day alone and realized he genuinely missed the other man’s presence. He was beginning to enjoy the time they spent together. Besides, if Viktor disappeared, Jayce had no real way of surviving on his own down there.

When the healer finally returned, pushing a miner’s cart loaded with supplies, Jayce felt an enormous sense of relief.

“You were gone a long time,” he said, trying not to sound worried. “I thought you might’ve gotten tired of me.”

Viktor smiled.

“I could never tire of you,” he replied.

Jayce swallowed hard.

***

Midway through the second week, Viktor triumphantly announced that Jayce’s wounds had fully closed and that he could begin light activity. Together, they crafted a pair of makeshift crutches to help him move more easily.

“You have to be careful,” Viktor warned him. “Some tunnels are slippery, and we don’t want another accident.”

It took Jayce several days to get used to the crutches. He had lost strength throughout his body. He took his first steps under Viktor’s watchful gaze, who caught him a couple of times before he could fall. Each time, he felt Viktor’s body close to his, and it left him more unsettled than he cared to admit. Little by little, he grew more confident moving around. By the fifth day, he was able to reach the study chamber on his own while Viktor was tending to the garden.

Cautiously, he made his way to the forge. He decided to light the furnace—the one he had designed himself. He would try to repair a broken knife Viktor had left near the anvil, along with some other metal scraps. It took him a while to manage. He still lacked strength, but the moment the hammer struck the anvil, Jayce felt completely at home. These were the sounds of his childhood. The first craft he had ever loved.

When Viktor returned, Jayce was cooling the newly repaired knife, drenched in sweat and covered in soot. At first, the healer looked alarmed. He rushed toward him to inspect his injuries.

“Don’t worry,” Jayce said quickly. “I didn’t hurt myself. I’m just sore from the effort.”

“And you’re absolutely filthy,” Viktor noted. He looked him over from head to toe and seemed to think for a moment. Then he added, “There’s no way around it—you need a proper bath. The bucket and cloth won’t cut it today.”

Jayce blinked in surprise. He’d been there for two weeks and had never seen anything resembling a bath, only the buckets of hot water Viktor would bring.

“Do you remember I told you about thermal energy?”

Jayce tried to recall.

“I think so… but you never mentioned hot springs,” he replied.

Viktor sighed.

“Wait a moment—I’ll go fetch some clean clothes and take you there myself. I think, in your current condition, we should be able to make it without trouble.”

The Zaunite returned shortly, and they began walking slowly through a tunnel Jayce had never seen before. Then they descended a kind of stairway. He found it oddly amusing how they moved together—he leaning on his crutches, and Viktor on his cane. They were, without a doubt, a peculiar pair.

They walked for a while, taking short breaks, until Jayce began to hear rushing water more clearly. He’d heard similar noises in nearly every tunnel, but he hadn’t imagined that water flowing through the caverns would gather in such a large pool. Lit by the glow of luminous moss, the water shimmered in a strange shade of blue. Beside the pool, he noticed rows of fungi and tubers. Viktor had finally brought him to his garden.

“So, this is where you grow the food,” he said.

“That’s right,” Viktor replied. “The heat from the hot springs helps, and the water is rich in minerals.”

Jayce stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the space. He examined the garden carefully but didn’t dare to approach. The crops were neatly planted in wooden crates, organized by size and species. That was Viktor—meticulous in everything.

“You are truly wonderful,” Jayce blurted out, without thinking. The moment he realized what he had said, he blushed. He looked at Viktor and saw that he, too, was flustered by the unexpected compliment. His cheeks were tinged with red—a color even more striking against his pale skin. His gaze was fixed on the floor.

“I’ll leave you to bathe,” Viktor said after a pause. “I assume you can manage on your own, but if you need help, I’ll be nearby.” He set the clean clothes on a raised ledge beside the pool and walked away.

Jayce waited until he was out of sight and then gave himself a light smack to the forehead. He’d made Viktor uncomfortable. He hoped he hadn’t offended him. Carefully, he removed his clothes and unwrapped the bandage around his foot. Then he stepped into the pool. The water was deliciously warm. He felt his muscles relax at once. He lingered there for a while, simply enjoying the sensation, until he remembered how filthy he was.

That night, he fell asleep quickly—but the pleasant memories of the forge had stirred up others he would rather forget. He dreamed of the incident in the lab with vivid clarity, more intense than ever before.

He awoke to a jolt. Opening his eyes, he saw Viktor leaning over him, a serious look on his face. Jayce let out a relieved sigh.

“You were shouting,” Viktor said. Embarrassed, Jayce looked away. Viktor’s bedroom was on the other side of the main chamber, but the tunnels carried sound easily.

“I was dreaming about the war,” he lied. Viktor’s expression softened.

“I understand,” he replied. “I have those dreams too. Some things are hard to forget.”

Jayce felt guilty. He should have been dreaming of all the atrocities he had witnessed on the battlefield—not of an old incident buried in his past.

“Sorry for waking you,” he whispered.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

They sat in silence for a while. Sleep tugged at Jayce’s eyelids.

“It’s still early,” Viktor said. “You should try to get a bit more sleep.”

“I’m not sure I can,” Jayce admitted. Viktor seemed to think for a moment.

“If you want,” he said, his voice slow and measured, “I can stay here with you—just until you fall asleep.”

Jayce didn’t respond immediately. They had already shared physical contact, but this was a different kind of closeness. Still, Viktor’s presence had a calming effect on him—and more than anything, Jayce just wanted to rest. He nodded.

At once, he felt Viktor settle onto the bed beside him, just inches away. Their bodies didn’t touch, but Jayce could feel the other man’s warmth through the fabric of their clothes. Viktor was wearing a white tunic, thinner than his usual attire, and it revealed just how lean he truly was. Suddenly, Jayce felt the urge to hold him. He wanted to protect this man who had worked so hard to keep him alive—and who now shielded him even from his nightmares. But he didn’t dare.

They began talking about trivial things—how many weeks remained until winter ended. Then Viktor spoke about his childhood, and Jayce followed suit, careful not to reveal too much. He was drifting off. Just before sleep took him, he felt Viktor’s cold fingers gently brush his cheek.

When he woke hours later, he was alone.

***

Several more weeks passed.

At times, Jayce didn’t know what to expect from Viktor. There were days when the Zaunite was incredibly kind—tender, even—and others when he was severe, almost harsh. It had become a habit for the healer to lie beside him each night, helping him fall asleep, with a familiarity Jayce couldn’t quite explain. It kept the nightmares at bay. Viktor never stayed through the night. Jayce knew that sometimes his partner’s work stretched on into the early hours.

That day, Viktor had scolded him harshly for putting too much weight on his still-healing foot while working at the forge. He had just begun sketching designs for new medical tools and had gotten carried away with excitement.

Viktor had warned him that his leg was almost fully healed but still required caution. In his enthusiasm, Jayce had forgotten. The healer had come running at the sound of a cry of pain.

The reprimand left him feeling guilty, and he spent the rest of the morning away from the forge, studying the schematics of the tools in silence. Around midday, Viktor appeared with a bowl of broth infused with pain-relieving herbs. Afterwards, he suggested that Jayce bathe early—the hot water would help ease the tension in his foot.

By now, it was routine for Viktor to accompany him to the pool. He would wait nearby while Jayce bathed, then escort him back to his room. Afterwards, the Zaunite would return to the pool alone for his own bath, a process that always took him a while.

When they reached the pool, Jayce noticed how particularly tired Viktor looked. He’d had to run around more than usual because of Jayce’s recklessness. Before the healer could leave him alone, Jayce stopped him.

“Viktor,” he said gently, “why don’t you stay and bathe with me? You look worn out.”

The healer hesitated for a moment.

“I left my clean clothes upstairs,” he replied.

“You can just put the ones you’re wearing back on and change later. It’s no big deal.”

Viktor fell silent. He looked a little nervous. But at last, he aggreed. The Piltovian assumed he must truly be exhausted.

Jayce turned his back and began undressing. He could hear Viktor doing the same. He slipped into the water, and seconds later, the soft splash of his partner entering the pool followed. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Viktor’s back. Much of his thin frame was covered in strange, purplish marks. Viktor noticed his gaze.

“They’re from magical attacks,” he explained. “I got caught in a crossfire near the end of the war. I know they look awful.”

“They don’t,” Jayce replied quickly. ““Your scars are proof that you’re alive—that you made it through.”

Viktor lowered his gaze and smiled faintly.

“I suppose so,” he said.

Later, as they dressed and Viktor began fastening his braces, Jayce caught the reflection of the Zaunite’s bare body shimmering on the surface of the pool. His heart raced. That image etched itself deep into his mind.

That night, Jayce pretended to be asleep, waiting for Viktor to leave. In truth, he couldn’t sleep at all. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Until now, Viktor had simply been his loyal partner, his caretaker—but Jayce was starting to see him differently.

Maybe it was just being trapped in a cave with him for so long. Still, he remembered thinking Viktor was beautiful the moment they met. He tried to recall whether he had felt anything similar when he’d met Mel.

That night, there were no nightmares, only dreams of Viktor, his hair wet, swimming alone in the vast underground pool.

***

Two months had passed since Jayce’s arrival. His leg had healed, and he had begun taking his first steps with the help of a cane and an orthopedic device that Viktor had helped him design. In turn, he had started working on several upgrades to improve the braces his companion wore on his back and right leg. Viktor insisted it wasn’t necessary, but Jayce wanted to make his life more comfortable.

He had also begun developing various prototypes to replace his lost hammer, though he still lacked the tools needed for such a monumental task. A larger forge would be essential. And without access to the Academy’s resources, it was practically impossible to recreate the anti-magic coating his old weapon had once possessed.

He was nearly done crafting the specialized tools Viktor had requested. They spent much of their time working side by side—Jayce at the forge, Viktor preparing his mixtures. Whenever the healer left him alone, Jayce returned to his alchemical theories. He had new ideas, fresh approaches to correct his earlier failed experiments—at least in theory. Of course, Viktor didn’t know a thing about any of it.

Thanks to his newfound mobility, Jayce had been able to accompany Viktor on a few of his explorations, though his leg still troubled him. They had taken to dining together, their conversations drifting between work and life. On more than one occasion, Viktor had mentioned the alchemists of Piltover—something that made Jayce deeply uneasy. He wondered if the healer had already guessed that he was secretly revisiting his research. But if he had, he never said anything.

Their closeness had grown over the weeks. Viktor still soothed him to sleep each night, and they had begun bathing together. It had also become common for them to exchange small gifts. Jayce would forge little trinkets, while Viktor brought him odd treasures discovered during his walks through the mines. Day by day, Jayce found himself more drawn to him—but he resolved to do nothing about it. Despite the tenderness Viktor often showed him, there was no clear sign that his feelings were returned.

One afternoon, Viktor gave him a brilliant blue crystal, no larger than a fingernail. It was beautiful—but all Jayce could see was its uncanny resemblance to the alchemical crystal he had created years ago. The one that had caused the explosion. He thanked Viktor, doing his best to mask the unease in his voice. That night, he went to bed early and told the healer he didn’t need to stay with him.

As he had feared, the nightmares came.

This time, he saw Viktor in the laboratory. As the explosion began, the man turned to him and said, “You already know the truth.”

He woke up completely shaken. He had no idea what time it was, but decided to get up. He began walking toward the main hall. Halfway through the tunnel, he heard a strange, low hum —like a pulsing energy source. The sound led him toward the study hall, and Jayce realized it was coming from one of the tunnels that stretched out toward the garden. He paused, unsure whether to follow the sound.

Before he could decide, the hum stopped. A moment later, he heard footsteps—and then Viktor stepped into the room. His hair was tousled, and his eyes had a strange glow. Sweat glistened on his cheeks, as if he had been engaged in intense physical exertion. He was wearing his thin sleeping robe. Disheveled like that, he looked unreal—like a creature out of a fairy tale.

Jayce was so overwhelmed by the sight of him that he completely forgot about the mysterious hum. He found himself lost in Viktor’s golden gaze. The Zaunite was watching him intently.

“Jayce,” he said softly.

The Piltovian moved closer. For a moment, they simply looked at one another. Then, without a word, Viktor reached up, cupped the back of Jayce’s neck, and pressed their lips together.

Chapter Text

Without saying a word, Viktor raised his hand, took him by the nape, and pressed their lips together. The world stopped. Jayce wrapped an arm around Viktor’s waist and pulled their bodies close. He could feel the cold fingers of his companion tangling in his hair.

The kiss lasted what felt like an eternity. They pulled apart to catch their breath, and Jayce took the chance to look at him closely. His lips were slightly parted, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. His eyes shone with intensity. It had to be a dream.

“Viktor, I…” The other man raised a finger to his lips, asking him to remain silent.

Then he took his hand and led him out of the chamber. Jayce followed obediently until they reached Viktor’s room. They had never been there before. There wasn’t much to see. It looked almost identical to Jayce’s, save for a few details. And yet it felt different, intimate. As if Viktor were letting him glimpse a new part of himself.

Viktor let go of his hand and lay down on the bed. The Piltovian settled beside the healer, unable to take his eyes off him. They lay face to face, and Viktor began to caress his cheek. Jayce closed his eyes at the sensation.

“Viktor… I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he began. “What I feel is… I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” the other man replied. “I feel the same.”

Jayce opened his eyes and met Viktor’s golden gaze. He loved how Viktor could understand him without words, as if he could read his mind. They kissed again. Then they nestled into an embrace. Jayce kissed Viktor’s forehead and closed his eyes. He felt the other man’s hand once more gently stroking his face.

“Rest, Jayce.”

When he woke up, Viktor was still lying beside him, fast asleep.

***

After the kiss, their dynamic remained much the same. They continued working together on their projects most of the day, either in the forge or poring over scrolls. Viktor monitored his recovery and conducted his regular explorations of the mine, while Jayce pressed on with his secret research into alchemy.

But over time, physical contact became part of their routine. Sometimes it was just the soft brush of their hands. Other times, it was a hug from behind when Viktor seemed distracted. At night, the healer would guide Jayce to his room, kiss his forehead, then his lips, and hold him in a long embrace. Though Viktor still rose early to attend to his duties, they often woke up together.

Those days were difficult for Jayce. Feeling his companion’s body so close to his own made him wake up with an uncomfortable morning erection. Sometimes he would simply take a deep breath and summon unpleasant memories. Other times, he pretended to stay asleep until Viktor left, so he could take care of his desire. He conjured images of Viktor’s body, naked in the underground pool, and finished quickly. He could only hope the healer ignored his activities. If he had noticed, he didn’t seem to mind.

One afternoon, Jayce found him in the forge. Normally, Viktor kept his distance from that area, limiting himself to giving instructions from the far corner of the room. It took Jayce a moment to realize what he was doing: trying to weld a sickle—one of his gardening tools. The instrument was broken clean in half, and from what Jayce could tell, the healer was struggling with the task. Viktor noticed his presence and sighed. He was visibly frustrated.

“When I see you work, it looks so easy.”

Jayce couldn’t help but smile with pride.

“It is easy,” he replied. “You just need a little practice.”

He approached and inspected the tool. The metal was quite thick—it looked hard to break.

“How did you manage to split it like this?”

Viktor looked away.

“An accident in the garden.”

Jayce knew he wouldn’t elaborate.

“To start with, you need to turn up the heat. With that flame, you’d barely be able to melt cheese.”

The remark made Viktor smile. He began to follow Jayce’s instructions. As expected, the healer learned quickly. But when it came time to hammer the metal and fuse the two halves, Jayce noticed he struggled with the weight of the tool.

“Here, let me help,” he said. Without thinking, he stepped behind him and took his hands, guiding them with practiced ease. After a few moments, he realized Viktor’s breathing had grown shallow. Only then did he notice how close their bodies were—his hips pressed against the other man’s backside. A warm pulse ignited low in his belly, and he stepped back. They continued working in silence.

When it was time to cool the piece, Viktor plunged the blade into the water with too much force, splashing his own face in the process.

“Shit.”

Jayce burst into laughter and stepped forward, wiping Viktor’s face with the back of his sleeve.

“You need to be more careful,” he said. “You could cause an accident.”

A mischievous smile tugged at Viktor’s lips.

“Good thing I have a strong and capable partner to protect me.”

In that moment, Jayce forgot what they were doing. He leaned in and kissed him. They kissed with growing urgency, as if something fragile between them had finally broken loose. Viktor’s fingers clutched at his shirt, pulling tight as if trying to tear it off. Jayce’s hands found the small of his back, then slid downward.

Viktor let out a soft moan, and Jayce couldn’t hold back anymore. He lifted him into his arms. The healer protested, squirming.

“Jayce… put me down, you’re not supposed to be lifting yet—”

He ignored him and carried him across the room. He laid him carefully on the study table and kissed him again. His erection pressed insistently against Viktor’s pelvis. Without thinking, he pushed up the tunic and let his hand slide down along Viktor’s leg, between the metal supports of the brace. He felt the healer tense.

“Jayce… wait, no…”

But before he could pull away, Jayce’s fingers brushed against something strange—an unfamiliar roughness beneath smooth skin. He looked down, confused, and saw a thick bandage wrapped around Viktor’s thigh. It was soaked through with a deep purple substance that reminded him of the other marks he’d glimpsed on his body.

Jayce froze. The desire in him vanished in an instant, replaced by a sick twist in his stomach.

“How did that happen?” he asked.

“An accident in the garden,” Viktor repeated, voice flat and rehearsed.

Jayce blinked, taken aback.

“It looks serious.”

Viktor glared at him.

“You forget I’m a healer. I’m more than capable of treating my own wounds.”

Jayce sighed. There was nothing more he could do. Once Viktor turned defensive, it was impossible to reason with him. He returned to the forge and silently finished mending the blade, while Viktor gathered the scrolls they had crushed in their rush. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the afternoon. At bath time, Viktor kept his back to him, shielding the wound from view.

At bedtime, Jayce climbed into bed alone, not waiting for him. He still felt stung by Viktor’s lack of trust—but more than that, he felt guilty. Perhaps he had rushed things. Maybe he had misread the hunger in Viktor’s kiss. Their relationship was only beginning to take shape, and he didn’t want to push him. After so many years of feeling like he didn’t belong, Viktor was the first person who made him feel at home.

He knew Viktor was hiding something. But he wasn’t being entirely honest either. Viktor had never asked where he came from, and he seemed to assume Jayce was just a curious blacksmith from some obscure corner of Zaun. If he wanted Viktor to open to him, Jayce would have to tell him the truth.

He couldn’t begin to imagine how Viktor might react. What if he threw him out of the cave and left him to freeze to death? What if he lashed out and tried to kill him? The thought of seeing disappointment on his partner’s face filled him with pain. He had made up his mind to tell Viktor the truth—but not yet. Not now.

To his surprise, Viktor joined him in bed a few minutes later, curling gently against his back.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m just… not used to that kind of contact.”

Jayce turned to face him and pulled him into his arms.

“I’m the one who should apologize. I rushed things. I didn’t know you were hurt.”

Viktor lowered his gaze, as though carefully choosing his words.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Jayce… but promise me you won’t judge me.”

Jayce’s heart began to race.

“I would never judge you, Viktor.”

The healer pulled away and sat up in bed. Then, lifting his tunic, he revealed the bandage.

“As you’ve probably guessed, I was born with a deformity. Still, I’ve always managed to get by on my own,” he explained. “But during the war, I was hit by something that severely damaged the nerves in my leg.”

He paused, pointing at the injury.

“What you see here is an intervention I performed on myself, trying to repair the nerve tissue. It’s not the first time I’ve done it. I’ve been using the instruments you crafted and my knowledge of medicine to attempt a recovery. I know it’s not exactly orthodox, but I don’t have another option.”

He turned to Jayce, meeting his stunned expression. Viktor went on:

“I’ll understand if you find me repulsive now, if you don’t want to be close to me anymore. After all, I’m just a crippled healer.”

The last words echoed in Jayce’s mind. He sat beside him and gently pressed Viktor’s head against his chest.

“Don’t say that, V. You’re perfect—the most beautiful man alive.”

“But I’m broken,” Viktor replied. “I don’t know if I’ll ever heal. The war left me shattered.”

“No matter how broken you are, I want to be with you,” Jayce said. “I was completely lost when you found me… and you healed me. I want to do the same for you. You’re strong, resilient, determined. I thank the day I fell off that cliff, because it led me to you.”

He paused. The words burned in his throat.

“Viktor…”

Their eyes met. There was no turning back. He let the words rise freely.

“I love you.”

A deep sense of relief washed over him as he said it. At last, he had dared to speak the truth. A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

Viktor was silent for a moment, as if absorbing what he’d just heard. Then he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Jayce’s lips.

“I love you too, Jayce. Thank you for finding me.”

They slid beneath the covers and drifted off to sleep.

***

The days that followed felt like a strange kind of honeymoon. Viktor began to share his medical experiments with Jayce, and Jayce managed to make him promise he wouldn’t attempt another procedure so extreme. That moment of honesty between them had eased much of the tension. Now, the Piltovian felt more connected than ever to his companion. And yet, guilt lingered. He still hadn’t found the right time to tell him the truth.

Viktor’s confession had cleared away most of Jayce’s doubts, but not all. Now and then, the unease crept back in. He heard the strange hum again, once or twice in the middle of the night, when Viktor slipped out of the room. He didn’t follow. He respected the healer’s privacy.

One night, Viktor asked him to go to bed without him. He had work to do. Jayce obeyed and waited patiently in the dark. But his partner didn’t return. The hum echoed in the distance, and Jayce found no sleep.

When the sound finally stopped, he checked the clock. It was nearly morning. He got up quickly and stepped out of the bedroom. In the study, Viktor sat before a scroll, staring blankly at the page. A pen hung limply from his hand.

When he saw Jayce enter, he looked up and smiled. He was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and hair falling wildly over his face.

“Sorry, Jayce. I lost track of time.”

Jayce eyed him with suspicion.

“What were you working on?”

Viktor stood and started walking toward the exit.

“Nothing worth explaining. Just… looking for answers.” He paused, glancing at the clock. “I’ll go get ready.”

When his companion left the room, Jayce took a glance at the parchment Viktor had been writing on. At first, it looked like his usual slanted cursive—difficult to decipher, even for him. But as he leaned in, Jayce realized these weren’t ordinary letters. It was a complex pattern of runes that, for some reason, seemed familiar. He skimmed through the parchment. It was a text on energy creation—more alchemical than medicinal. He hadn’t known Viktor was working on anything like that. He tried to find the rune pattern within the text itself, but without success. The healer must have copied it from somewhere else.

A sudden loud noise snapped him out of his thoughts. He hurriedly set the parchment aside and followed Viktor into the adjacent room. He didn’t dare ask about it.

Later that afternoon, while leafing through a scroll on Zaunite architecture, a memory struck him. He remembered where he’d seen that rune pattern before. It was eerily similar to the inscriptions carved into the archway of the second mine. He rushed to find his notebook and returned to look for the parchment, hoping to compare his notes with Viktor’s markings. But no matter how hard he searched, the document was gone.

A nervous feeling began to gnaw at him.

Still, all doubts melted away when Viktor fell asleep beside him, exhausted from his sleepless night, after letting Jayce kiss him for what felt like an eternity.

***

One afternoon, Viktor returned from one of his excursions with a surprise for Jayce—a delicate white flower. At the sight of it, the Piltovian stood speechless.

“Where did you get that?” he asked. He knew Viktor’s garden well and was certain he’d never cultivated flowers.

“I walked all the way to the mine’s exit today,” the Zaunite replied with a smile. “It’s a snowbell. Winter’s nearly over.”

They both laughed and cheered at the news. Jayce spoke about how much he missed sunlight, no matter how cozy the mine had become. Viktor promised to take him on a picnic by the river, so he could bask in the warmth of the sun.

But the mood began to shift when they returned to a subject they had carefully avoided in recent weeks: what was going to happen to them?

Viktor had mentioned, more than once, that he intended to stay in the cave until his leg healed fully. Outside of it, he had nowhere to go. Meanwhile, Jayce needed to return to the capital, at least to let Caitlyn know he was still alive. Their separation felt inevitable. Then, an idea formed in Jayce’s mind.

“What if you came with me to the capital? I just want to make sure my friends are safe. After that, we could come back here or find somewhere new to spend the spring. Once we’re out, I could sell some of the tools and buy you a mount. That way, you wouldn’t need to walk.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a flush of embarrassment. It sounded like a proposal. A promise of a future.

Viktor remained silent, then gave a wistful smile.

“I’d love to go with you, Jayce… but I don’t know if it would be wise.”

Jayce didn’t push. If there was one thing he’d learned about Viktor, it was that he became defensive when he felt cornered.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said gently. Then, he kissed his partner’s forehead and returned to his work.

That night, Viktor slipped into bed beside him as usual, but Jayce noticed he was carrying a parchment. He seemed nervous.

“It’s a text I just found. I wanted to show you,” said the healer.

Jayce took it in his hands and began to read. A blush crept over his cheeks. It wasn’t an academic treatise. It was a literary piece, an erotic tale about two lovers’ encounter. There weren’t many narrative texts in their collection, let alone anything of this kind.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

He turned to look at Viktor and found his golden eyes staring at him intensely under the lamplight.

“You know exactly what I want.”

In seconds, he was on top of him, kissing him with hungry passion. Viktor responded with eagerness, his hands sliding along Jayce’s back. Jayce felt his fingers slip beneath his shirt, and he knew the moment had come. He pulled back.

“If you want me to do that, you’ll have to take off your clothes.”

Viktor shot him a mischievous look.

“Take them off for me.”

With trembling hands, Jayce lifted the tunic, letting his fingers trace the curve of Viktor’s torso. Then, he removed his brace. The metal clattered to the ground, and suddenly, he was there, completely naked beneath him, bathed in the warm glow of the torchlight.

He had seen his body before, many times, but never like this. His eyes lingered on his abdomen, where his erection rested.

He was perfect. Entirely, undeniably his. At last.

Before he could continue touching him, Viktor tugged him by the shirt.

“Take yours off too,” he commanded.

Jayce obeyed, shedding his clothes as quickly as he could. Then he lay back down atop Viktor’s body, and they kissed again. He could feel the healer’s hands tracing his neck and back, trying to follow every line of his muscles. They stayed like that for a long while, until Jayce couldn’t hold back anymore and let one of his hands wander down to Viktor’s thighs. Gently, he stroked him. The other man let out a low moan.

“If you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll stop.”

Viktor looked at him, eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t stop.”

Jayce wetted his lips and wrapped his hand around him. He began to stroke him slowly, deliberately, drawing out the moment as long as he could. At the same time, his own arousal throbbed urgently, pressed against the inside of Viktor’s thighs.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered against his neck.

Viktor closed his eyes, head tipped back, lips parted.

“If you keep going… I’m going to come.”

Jayce quickened his pace and soon felt Viktor climax in his hand. Seeing him like that—undone, utterly consumed by pleasure—set something loose in the Piltovian. He gripped himself, the ache unbearable now. A few moments later, Viktor opened his eyes and bit his lower lip at the sight of Jayce.

“Is that how you touch yourself when you’re thinking of me?”

Jayce’s breath caught for a moment.

“You’ve been spying on me,” he said.

Viktor slipped out from under him and turned around. He leaned in close and pressed a delicate kiss to the head of Jayce’s cock, then looked up.

“Maybe.”

That single word was enough. Jayce let out a gasp and gave in, pleasure crashing through him under the weight of Viktor’s golden gaze.

“You’re incorrigible.”

***

The release of sexual tension between Jayce and Viktor was like a breath of fresh air. During the day, they worked as usual, but at night, they made it a point to find new ways to please each other. Jayce felt like he’d reverted to his teenage years.

To his surprise, despite Viktor’s claim that he wasn’t used to physical closeness, he seemed remarkably experienced—or perhaps it was just a natural talent. Jayce didn’t dare ask. He didn’t want to picture anyone else touching his lover. As for himself, he hadn’t been with anyone since his exile. His last relationship, with Mel, had burned bright at first, but quickly fizzled out. And yet, in just a few days, he felt he’d learned more with Viktor than in the entire year he’d spent with her.

Viktor liked to explore. He started with soft touches, teasing games that made them laugh and moan beneath the sheets. Then one night, he proposed something more—he wanted Jayce to take him completely. He had prepared a special oil, infused with calming herbs, warm to the touch. He poured it over his fingers with the precise calm of someone mixing a remedy.

The first time was slow and careful. Jayce, always afraid of hurting him, moved as though walking on glass. But Viktor guided him, soothing him with whispered reassurances, with fingernails raking lightly down his back.

With time, their bodies learned each other’s rhythms. On certain nights—the longest, quietest ones—Viktor would climb atop him with a kind of mastery that went beyond the physical. His hips swayed in a hypnotic rhythm, and Jayce, helpless beneath him, could only grasp his waist and lose himself in the cadence of his movements.

Sometimes, Viktor would pause just before the peak, only to lean down and bite Jayce’s neck or lick a bead of sweat from his chest. He brought him to the edge with surgical precision.

There were nights when they went again and again, until they fell asleep still joined, trembling, clinging to each other as if they were the only two people left in the world.

After the pleasure came the silence. They caressed one another slowly. Viktor curled up against Jayce’s chest, tracing invisible patterns on his skin with the tip of a finger. Jayce kissed his hair, damp and tangled from the effort.

Outside, beyond the mine, spring was drawing near. Jayce could feel his body growing stronger every day. Soon, he’d be able to walk freely and that thought, which had once been a beacon of hope, now tasted bitter on his tongue.

The goodbye was approaching.

One night, after a particularly tender session of long kisses and slow movements, Viktor sat on the edge of the bed. Jayce caught the melancholy in his eyes. It took him a few minutes to speak.

“If I told you that, before I met you, I believed everything in this world was already lost… would you believe me?”

The Piltovian sat beside him and studied his face.

“I’d never stop believing you, V.”

Viktor smiled sadly.

“And if I told you I’m not what I seem…”

Jayce moved closer and took his hand.

“Then show me.”

Their eyes met, and Jayce waited for him to go on, but Viktor only reached out to caress his face.

“Let’s get some rest.”

Jayce slept uneasily. Winter had come to an end.

He was jolted awake by a nightmare. It was the first in weeks. When he slept beside Viktor, dreams were always peaceful. But this time, he had dreamed of him in the lab, adjusting the magical crystal. Then, he watched him vanish, turned to dust by the explosion. He searched for the healer’s body, but realized he was alone.

He decided to get up and look for him. He knew it had just been a dream, but he needed to find his companion, to make sure he was all right. He walked toward the study, and that’s when he heard it—the strange humming sound, louder than ever. He took a deep breath and told himself to go back to bed, but he needed to see Viktor.

He reached the garden and noticed the sound coming from another tunnel, deeper into the underground. Viktor had never taken him that way. He always said there was nothing there, only shadows and damp stone. The path was dark, and once again, Jayce considered turning back. But something pushed him forward. He advanced, feeling his way along the walls, guided only by the hum. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

He walked for what felt like an eternity, until he saw a strange blue glow. He stopped, unable to take another step. Deep down, he didn’t want to know what lay beyond. He sensed that there would be no turning back. He had to summon all his strength to move forward.

The glow blinded him for a moment. When his vision returned, he lost his breath.

He was standing in a vast chamber, as tall as a cathedral, its walls carved with ancient symbols. On the floor, he saw strange markings—a magical circle, drawn with immaculate precision. At its center stood Viktor, his back turned, his staff tracing runes through the air. In front of him, a massive blue crystal pulsed with every sigil.

In one corner of the chamber, Jayce saw his hammer, hovering above the ground. Without thinking, he rushed to it and grabbed it by the handle. In that instant, a wave of energy ripped through the room. The enchantment shattered.

Viktor turned slowly. His eyes were glowing brighter than Jayce had ever seen.

“Welcome, Jayce. It was about time you found your way here.”

His voice sounded deeper, unfamiliar. The blue light cast him in an almost fearsome aura.

Jayce tightened his grip on the hammer. His pulse was unsteady. He felt like he was trapped in a dream. He struggled to speak.

“What… what are you?”

Viktor smiled.

“You already know.”

Jayce felt something break inside him. He raised the hammer.

“You’re the mage from the report.”

He felt ashamed to hear his own voice shake.

Viktor stepped toward him, unafraid of whatever Jayce might do.

“I’m not your enemy, Jayce. I can explain everything.”

Jayce shook his head. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you. You’ve lied enough.”

The mage let out a dry, bitter laugh.

“And you think you haven’t lied to me? You think I didn’t notice what you were investigating behind my back? You thought I believed you were just some blacksmith from Zaun? You never had the courage to tell me the truth.”

“That’s different,” Jayce shouted. “You kidnapped me. You manipulated me. You just played with me. I—”

“I healed you. I cared for you. I loved you,” Viktor interrupted. “When I found you, you were so broken I thought you’d die. That head wound was serious—without my magic, you wouldn’t have survived. I brought you back.”

He raised a hand and pointed at one of the scars on his arm.

“These marks…I got them trying to save you.” He paused, looking down. “Everything I told you about our love is true, Jayce. At least that part is real. If you let me explain, I promise it will be worth it.”

Jayce couldn’t think. His hands began to shake. Viktor stepped closer.

“But if you still believe I need to be destroyed…” The Zaunite lifted his gaze and spread his arms. “…do it. It’s in your hands.”

Jayce closed his eyes to hide his tears. He could do it. Just one blow. Caitlyn would applaud him. The Council would forgive him. He’d return home a hero.

But—he had slept beside that body. He had loved it. He had let those hands heal him. And now, that same figure looked like a stranger.

In the silence of the chamber, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

He lowered the hammer.

Chapter Text

Jayce lowered the hammer. He had made his decision. He stepped back into his role as Piltover’s emissary and tried to forget that he was still in love with the man standing before him.

“You’re going to answer my questions,” he said coldly. “If your words don’t convince me, I’ll have to execute you.”

Viktor looked almost pleased.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Jayce, the mage-slayer. Did you know that’s what they called you during the war?”

Jayce glared at him.

“Don’t change the subject. First question: who are you, really?”

Viktor sighed.

“It’s a long story. Where should I begin?”

“Start with how you became a mage.”

Viktor nodded.

“I didn’t lie about my birth. I come from an isolated province in Zaun. Since I was a child, I felt the call of the arcane and began learning magic on my own, with old schoolbooks. That caught the attention of my first teacher—Singed. I trained with him for a few years, but his methods were… questionable.”

He paused, as if remembering something unpleasant. Jayce raised an eyebrow.

“Questionable?”

“Human experimentation. On others and on himself. Ethically indefensible.”

Jayce nodded grimly.

“Go on.”

“When I reached adolescence, my parents spent all their savings to send me to the capital. I studied at the Academy of Magic. I was an excellent student. After graduating, I received an offer from Silco, King Vander’s consort. He wanted a gifted mage to serve the crown. I also got along well with Princess Jinx. I was happy there—had my own lab, resources for my research. But it all ended with the war.”

Jayce was stunned. He vaguely remembered hearing something about a brilliant young mage who’d served in the palace during Vander’s final years. He never would have imagined it was the same man.

“And what did you do during the war?”

The shadow that crossed Viktor’s eyes was immediate. These were memories he clearly wished to forget.

“Fought,” he said. “Until I could fight no more. As a royal mage, I had to lead by example. These scars aren’t from enemy blows, but from overusing magic.”

Jayce swallowed hard but kept his face stern. As furious as he was, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.

“And what happened when Zaun fell?”

“We knew, months before, that we couldn’t win. We tried to protect the royal family. Vander sacrificed himself, but we managed to secure Silco and the children’s escape.”

“So, the royal family is still alive,” Jayce interrupted.

The mage lowered his gaze.

“Who knows. It’s been two years.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not telling me everything.”

Viktor sighed.

“You know I can’t.”

A tense silence settled between them. Jayce broke it.

“Keep going.”

The mage nodded.

“We prepared our escape. It was a flawless plan. But someone betrayed us. I stayed behind to draw attention away and ended up hiding here. I was wounded and couldn’t fight back against the anti-magic armors”, he met Jayce’s eyes. “Your designs.”

Jayce flinched.

“How do you know that?”

Viktor let out a bitter laugh.

“I didn’t always live under a rock. You were famous across the continent. The golden boy. I admired your work. Before the war, I even went to one of your lectures.”

“That’s impossible,” Jayce replied. “I would’ve remembered you.”

How could he forget that face?

Viktor smiled, wistfully.

“Back then, you only had eyes for Medarda, and the place was packed. Besides, they didn’t let me ask questions. They didn’t want a crippled Zaunite bothering the man of progress.”

Jayce looked down for a moment. The words weighed on him more than he wanted to admit. Viktor continued.

“When you were expelled from the Academy, I was genuinely intrigued. I couldn’t understand how, after everything you’d done for Piltover, they’d turn on you so cruelly. I began investigating the reason and managed to find fragments of your manuscripts on the magical crystals,” Viktor sighed. “It was truly a revolutionary idea.”

“So… you recognized me when you found me?”

“Yes… but not right away,” Viktor said quickly. “The night you fell into the ravine, the arcane called me to you. It was a feeling I couldn’t ignore. I didn’t know what it was—I just knew I had to follow it. It led me straight to you. And when I saw you, all I wanted was to heal you… Later, I realized who you were.”

Jayce’s hand trembled on the handle of his hammer.

“And when you realized who I was, you decided to use me.”

Saying the words hurt. He was afraid of the answer. Viktor looked away.

“Yes.”

Jayce clenched his jaw.

“I’ve heard enough,” he said, turning toward the exit.

“Wait,” Viktor called out, desperation in his voice. “At first, I wanted to use you, yes—but then…”

Jayce turned slowly.

“Then what?”

Viktor closed his eyes.

“I fell in love.”

Jayce dropped the hammer and buried his face in his hands. He didn’t want to hear those words—not in this context. Not when he no longer knew if he could believe them.

Viktor continued.

“Our love is real, Jayce. You gave me back my hope. Before I met you, I was only searching for power—enough strength to take revenge. But after you, I realized there are other possibilities. We could work together to do good. Your crystals could make it happen.”

“My crystals have only ever shown their potential to destroy,” Jayce replied. “The one test we ran blew up half a building. People were hurt, Viktor. People who will never forget.”

He would never forget.

“But all destruction carries the seed of creation,” the mage countered.

He gestured toward the massive crystal behind them.

“Look at this natural crystal. For centuries, mages used these cores to restore their energy and gain insight. They brought the manuscripts here,” he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “The crystals are alive, Jayce. They’re part of the world. I’ve heard their voice, and their energy helped me heal. The legends about their power are true. And you—you tried to create one.”

“Yes. And I failed.”

Viktor shook his head.

“You didn’t fail. It simply wasn’t the right time. You needed to come here. You needed to learn from your mistakes. You needed to find me,” he paused, his face brimming with emotion. “With your knowledge and my magic, we could complete the experiment. We could create a new source of energy. A new alchemy. No more battles for resources. No more wars. Haven’t you ever dreamed of finishing what you started?”

Jayce swallowed hard. It was true.

“How do I know you’re not just manipulating me for your own ends?” he asked.

Viktor looked at him gently.

“Give me the chance to prove it. Just stay a few days.”

Jayce paused. He was afraid. He wanted to run, to forget everything, as if it had all been a nightmare. But after everything they’d lived through together, he also wanted to believe in him again.

He nodded.

“Two days,” he said.

Then he picked up his hammer and disappeared down the tunnel. He spent the night in his room, away from Viktor’s warmth. He didn’t sleep. How could he, after a revelation like that? His world had crumbled again.

The night passed slowly. When it was finally time to get up, he grabbed his hammer and headed to the study. A smell of rust and incense greeted him. Viktor had already started working. In just a few hours, he had assembled—crudely, but effectively—the basic setup for an alchemical transmutation. On the worktable were several types of minerals and other reagents Jayce couldn’t quite identify. The mage was deeply absorbed in his notes.

When he heard Jayce enter, he looked up.

“What do you think? I know it’s not Piltover quality, but it’s the best I could do. I’m no alchemist, but I tried to recreate your system based on the fragments I recovered from your theory.”

Jayce tightened his grip on the hammer and stepped closer, inspecting the reagents carefully.

“The measurements are off. Do you have a scale?”

Viktor nodded and fetched the balance he usually used for medicinal mixtures. As he approached to hand it over, Jayce took two steps back.

“Don’t come closer,” the Piltovian ordered.

The mage gave him a disdainful look.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I already would have.”

Jayce gestured to his hammer.

“Remember, I have an anti-magic weapon. By the way—what were you doing with my hammer?”

Viktor smiled.

“Let’s just say I kept it safe… and studied it a little. I’d never seen an anti-magic weapon up close without being in mortal danger.”

Jayce frowned.

“And what did you find?”

“I discovered the frequency it operates on. With some practice, I might even learn how to counter that kind of weapon.”

Jayce shivered. Viktor’s danger didn’t come only from his magical power, it came from his mind. He used to admire that intellect so deeply. Now, it terrified him. Before he could ask anything else, Viktor set the scale on the table and stepped back.

“Enough, Jayce. We don’t have to fight. I just want to finish this. I promise I won’t try anything.”

Jayce hesitated, then let go of the hammer. It was true, he had promised to give him a chance. He decided to focus on the work, pulling out his notebook.

“We need to adjust the quantities like I wrote here,” he said, pointing to a page covered in scribbles. “You start with the minerals. I’ll handle the catalysts.”

They worked in silence for a long time, entirely absorbed in their tasks. It felt almost like a normal day in the cave, though the truth now hung between them. The quiet between formulas was strangely comforting—almost like before. For a moment, Jayce forgot he was working with a fugitive mage. He only saw a focused colleague. Viktor glanced up from time to time, watching him with admiration. Eventually, the mage broke the silence.

“Why didn’t you ever dare show me this side of yourself?”

Jayce sighed.

“Because I thought I’d left it all behind. Now I see I was only lying to myself.”

Viktor brushed his hand gently.

“I’m glad you haven’t given up on it.”

They remained like that for a moment. Then Jayce pulled his hand away.

A few hours later, they took a break.

“Looks like everything’s ready, but we’re still missing a power source strong enough to start the transmutation,” said the alchemist, eating quickly so he could get back to work.

“Don’t worry,” Viktor replied. “You’re looking at it.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not following.”

The mage pointed to himself.

“I’ll be the power source.”

***

A few hours later, Jayce was finishing the transmutation circle under Viktor’s watchful gaze. Once the intricate design was complete, he approached the mage.

“Go over the instructions again.”

“A precise electrical discharge,” Viktor recited from memory. “Like a lightning strike but concentrated in the center of the circle. I’ve got it.”

Jayce looked at him, worried.

“You sure about this? I don’t want us crushed under rubble.”

“I’ve done far more complicated things. I wasn’t court mage for nothing.” He pointed at the transmutation diagram. “Besides, these rune patterns are pretty similar to the ones we use in magic. I’m used to this.”

Jayce took a deep breath.

“All right.”

They took their positions. Viktor stood by the circle, and Jayce took shelter in a far corner of the chamber.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The mage raised his staff and began tracing runes in the air. A deafening crack rang out, and the room filled with light, but Jayce didn’t close his eyes. He wanted to watch Viktor—watch him in the full radiance of his magic. He was absolutely stunning.

When the light faded, they found two small blue crystals lying in the center of the circle. Viktor stepped toward them, but Jayce grabbed his arm.

“They must be handled with extreme care. They’re highly volatile.”

That had always been the end of his experiments. He’d never managed to get past this stage. The crystals always exploded with the slightest trigger.

Viktor saw the shadow in Jayce’s eyes and squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s all right. We’ll stabilize them. There’s still work to do.”

That night, Jayce went to bed alone again. He tried to sleep, but the nightmare returned, more vivid than ever.

He was back in the Piltover lab. In front of him was the device he’d used to try to stabilize the crystal. Then, everything turned to light. The crystal detonated. Energy tore through him like fire. A scream filled the air—Viktor’s scream. Jayce saw him fall, consumed by blue flames, the metal supports of his leg melting into his flesh.

“No!”

He woke up drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. The hum of the crystal still resonated in his chest. Footsteps hurried toward him, and then he saw Viktor at the doorway, concern written all over his face.

Jayce reached for him, eyes brimming with tears.

“Vik… I’m so sorry.”

The mage rushed to embrace him, letting Jayce cry against his chest.

“It’s all right. I’m here,” Viktor whispered, stroking his hair.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jayce said through sobs. “I saw you die, V. It was my fault—the crystal’s fault. It’s a sign. We must stop.”

Viktor pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes.

“No, Jayce. It’s a sign we need to finish this. Only then can you put that part of your past to rest.”

He pressed his forehead to Jayce’s.

“Trust me. Together, we can see this through. I promise.”

Jayce wiped his tears.

“I just want everything to go back to how it was.”

Viktor looked at him with quiet sorrow.

“So, do I. But progress can’t be stopped.”

Jayce nodded. It was the truth. There was no turning back.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, as they had so many nights before. But when Jayce woke, he felt like he was lying next to a stranger.

***

That morning, they began preparing to stabilize the crystals. Jayce shared his most recent theories with Viktor—the ones he’d developed during his months in the mine. They debated for a long time, failing to reach a consensus, until finally, after several hours, they drafted a plan.

“We might be able to stabilize them using different frequencies,” Viktor said. “It’s like what I found with your hammer. Change the vibration of a material, and you can alter its internal structure.”

“And for that,” Jayce continued, “we’d need to rotate it at varying speeds and subject it to different pressures. In theory, it could work. But we don’t have the mechanical devices to test it.”

“I could manipulate the crystals myself.”

Jayce fixed his gaze on him.

“You think you can pull that off? I mean… I know you can do incredible things, but this is extremely complex.”

The mage thought for a moment.

“If we calculate the frequencies precisely, I think I can manage. It’s worth trying.”

“Then let’s start the calculations. We must be exact—if not, this cave becomes our tomb.”

Viktor nodded.

“A romantic way to die, don’t you think?”

Jayce chose not to respond.

They spent the rest of the afternoon working through formulas. Afterward, Viktor carried out several dry runs—no crystals involved. By the time night fell, they were ready. They began their final preparations, and Jayce prayed for the first time in years. He felt the rest of his life hinged on this moment. And he wasn’t wrong, if the calculations were off, or if Viktor failed, the crystals would explode and the cave would collapse on top of them.

He watched the mage take his place, a tight knot forming in his throat. His legs were shaking.

“Viktor… in case something goes wrong, I want to thank you for saving me. I don’t think I ever said it out loud.” He sighed. “And I want you to know these months with you have been some of the best of my life. Don’t forget that.”

The mage gave him a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have time to talk about it. Just remember what I promised you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Viktor focused and began his intricate dance. Jayce could see him spinning the crystal in multiple directions, weaving magic with intense precision. It was the longest moment of Jayce’s life. Sweat was pouring down Viktor’s face, and for a second, Jayce feared he might not be able to finish the spell.

Then everything started to tremble.

Suddenly, the room filled with a blue light, so similar to that of the crystal from the depths, and everything began to float. It took Jayce a moment to understand what was happening—until he saw Viktor smile.

Their eyes met, and they both burst out laughing, spinning together in the air, bathed in the crystals’ magical glow. They had never felt so happy.

They’d done it.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” Viktor said through laughter.

They kept floating, dancing in midair, until the crystals’ effect slowly faded. Once back on the ground, Jayce ran to Viktor and threw his arms around him.

“We did it, V. We actually did it.”

Viktor staggered from the force of the embrace. He hadn’t yet retrieved his staff, but Jayce held him up in his arms.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and for a moment, Jayce was about to kiss him. But something stopped him. Watching Viktor wield his magic had been beautiful—breathtaking—but also terrifying.

That night, they shared a bed once more, but didn’t hold each other. They had achieved their dream, but the truth still hurt.

In the early morning hours, Jayce opened his eyes. His body was resting, but his mind was not. The crystals had stabilized, but his thoughts kept circling endlessly.

He sat up in bed and watched Viktor sleeping peacefully beside him, exhausted from the strain of his magic. Jayce knew he was still in love with him—he couldn’t pretend otherwise. And he knew, deep down, that Viktor loved him too. But he also knew he wasn’t ready to forgive him. Or forgive himself.

Jayce sighed. Things would have been so much simpler if he hadn’t been a Piltovian alchemist, and Viktor a Zaunite mage. They might have met under different circumstances. He imagined them in another life, working side by side, him at his forge, Viktor preparing medicinal remedies. The two of them living in a cabin, in some village far from Piltover and Zaun, with no ambitions of greatness. Just happy.

If only things had been different…

In the world they lived in, there was no place for love between them. They were enemies by design. He gently brushed Viktor’s cheek and watched him stir. Deep down, all he wanted was to protect him. That’s why the best thing he could do was leave. He had to return to Caitlyn.

He rose quietly and walked back to his room. He changed clothes and packed a few garments for the journey. Then he went to the study and took a couple of tools—ones Viktor never used. If he was lucky, he’d be able to sell them in the village. After that, he moved to the kitchen and prepared something light with the leftover ingredients from their last meal. Before leaving, he wrote a short note. He left it on the dining table, beside an unwashed cup.

Then, he picked up his hammer. He didn’t want to leave like this, not really, but he knew that if he spoke to Viktor, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He walked toward the exit, his path lit by the glow of his hammer. When he reached the great stone threshold, he recognized Viktor’s rune pattern etched into the arch. The wind greeted him harshly, and he squinted against the early morning light. He was beginning the journey to find himself again.

Meanwhile, despite Jayce’s careful movements, Viktor had heard every step of his preparations. He was dying to run after him, to beg him to stay. He would have given up everything to stop him from leaving. And that was precisely why he didn’t move. He stayed lying down for a while, staring at the ceiling, his mind blank, until he was certain that Jayce was gone.

Then, he got up and walked through the cave. Everything reminded him of Jayce. Some of his clothes were still in their room, and most of his tools remained in the study. When he reached the dining area, his eyes fell on the note resting on the table. He opened it carefully.

Inside was one of the two stabilized crystals, along with the dried petals of the snowbell Viktor had once given him. On the paper, a single line:

Our love couldn’t exist in this life, but I hope that in another world, we’ll find each other again.

Viktor pressed the crystal to his chest, as if he could feel Jayce through it. He had been a coward. They could have defied the world together. And yet, he couldn’t blame him. That was Jayce: flawed, stubborn, deeply principled. And he had loved him for all of it.

“In another life,” he whispered.

His eyes filled with tears.

Chapter Text

The road back to the capital was not an easy one. Spring had only just begun to bloom, and many paths were still covered in ice. The cold made his wounds ache—both the new ones and the old. Despite his efforts to regain strength in his leg, he still struggled to keep a steady pace. The weight of the hammer made things worse.

His journey was slow, almost like a farewell. He had time to take in the landscapes and watch winter give way to spring. He remembered arriving in those lands during autumn. He would likely never see them in summer.

Every now and then, Jayce would glance toward the mountains etched on the horizon and imagine Viktor. The ridgeline grew more distant with every step, but the memories remained as vivid as ever. Whenever he thought of his golden eyes, he clutched the crystal tied around his neck. It was the only keepsake left from his time in the mine.

Upon arriving in the village, he had sold everything else—even his clothes. Now he dressed in a way that helped him go unnoticed. No one in the town asked too many questions. Even the old man who had led them to the mines seemed to accept his story without resistance. Jayce had survived the winter alone, thanks to the shelter of the cave. He never spoke of the fall, or of Viktor.

The old man informed him that Steb and Loris had searched for him for several days before giving up and returning to the capital. Since then, no one else had come back. Jayce felt a wave of relief. That meant Viktor would remain safe.

When he finally reached the capital, he headed straight for the palace. The guards looked at him as though they’d seen a ghost. They led him directly to Caitlyn’s office, where she received him with her mouth agape before throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“It can’t be… Jayce. We were about to declare you dead.”

The alchemist gave her a weary smile.

“You know what they say—the devil looks after his own.”

They stayed in the embrace for a moment, and Jayce was pulled back to the days of their childhood, playing in the yard behind her house. Back then, they had been so close they might as well have been siblings. So much had changed since then. They pulled apart, and Cait studied him carefully.

“You look awful,” she said. “Like you crawled out of hell itself.”

Jayce gave a faint, sad smile. In truth, it was quite the opposite. Leaving the mine felt like a return to that cruel world, where the devastation of war still lingered beneath every surface. A world fueled by ambition and vanity, so far removed from the ideas he had shared with Viktor.

Caitlyn insisted on taking him to the palace physician and stayed by his side as the doctor performed the examinations. Though his friend clearly cared for him, Jayce could tell she was also watching him. He knew Cait sensed something strange. All he could do was hope that her suspicions would fade with time.

After a thorough evaluation, it was determined that Jayce was in good health. He was advised to rest. Caitlyn herself escorted him to his old quarters, which had remained untouched, awaiting his return.

“Please, take your time. Don’t rush back to work. Someone’s been covering for you while you were gone, so don’t worry about that,” she said before taking her leave.

Jayce decided to listen to her—at least for that afternoon. In his room, the first thing he did was take a long, hot bath. It did wonders for his aching muscles, though not quite as much as the thermal waters used to. After washing, he stood before the mirror, studying himself. His hair was longer now, and a beard covered half his face. New scars crossed his skin.

He raised a hand and touched his reflection. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the man on the other side of the glass.

“What have you become?” he murmured.

He considered shaving, trying to reclaim the polished, radiant Jayce of the past, but it felt like a betrayal. He trimmed only what was necessary to no longer look like a specter. He was no longer the man he once was.

That night, he lulled himself to sleep with the soft glow and gentle vibration of the magical crystal. That blue light, once the substance of his worst visions, was now his source of comfort. The old lab nightmare hadn’t returned. Now, he was haunted by a different kind of dream. Dreams where Viktor was always the main character.

The next day, he hid the crystal deep inside the wardrobe and put on his uniform. Everything fit perfectly. The golden emblem of House Talis gleamed as if it were brand new. And yet, when he looked at himself in the mirror, he felt as though he were in costume, playing the role of someone else.

This isn’t me, he thought, running his hand over his chest, just above the insignia.

It was as if his reflection were trying to remind him of who he was supposed to be. Not who he had become.

He gathered his strength and made his way to his old office. Despite Caitlyn’s orders to rest, he began drafting the report on his mission in southern Zaun. He wanted to get it done as soon as possible. He needed to put an end to his story with Viktor.

It took him several hours to finish. Dozens of pages detailing everything he had found during his exploration and how he had survived inside the mine. He made a point of being especially tedious with the details, trying to convey the impression that there was nothing of interest in that place. Every possible mention of Viktor was carefully erased from the narrative. He had spent four months alone in an abandoned mine.

His former partner was safe.

In the afternoon, he went to greet Steb and Loris, who had already heard of his return and welcomed him warmly. Loris even apologized for not having searched harder, to which Jayce responded, “The mission was the priority.” He couldn’t imagine what might have happened had they found him in the mine with Viktor. Things had turned out for the best.

He said goodbye to his comrades and headed straight to Caitlyn’s office. As soon as she saw him walk in, the commander frowned.

“I told you to rest.”

Jayce gave her an apologetic smile.

“I know, Cait, but I really wanted you to see this. I couldn’t wait.”

He handed her the report, and a flicker of nervousness ran through him as Caitlyn immediately began to read. He tried to analyze her expressions, but the commander kept a perfectly neutral face as she scanned the document. When she finished, she seemed satisfied with the quality of the information.

“This is excellent work, Jayce. I’ll submit it to the council right away. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think this clearly proves your dedication to Piltover.”

Jayce felt a wave of relief, until he noticed Caitlyn’s gaze had turned somber. She continued.

“Still, you must know there’s something that doesn’t add up. I’d like to understand how you sustained those injuries to your head and leg.”

Caitlyn opened a drawer and handed him a document. It was his medical report. Jayce skimmed it quickly and felt a chill as he read the words “signs of severe trauma to the leg and head”. It was obvious now—he was hiding something.

His friend seemed to notice his discomfort.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to ask you to include those details in your report. I’m sure there’s a reason you chose to leave them out. But I’d like you to tell me what really happened. Think of me as your friend, not your boss.”

Jayce remained silent under Caitlyn’s scrutinizing gaze. He knew there was no point in trying to lie. She would get the truth out of him eventually. She was too smart, too perceptive. After all, she was a war veteran—and the governor of Zaun. He sighed in resignation.

“The reason I couldn’t return with Steb and Loris was because I fell into a ravine,” he confessed. “I was trying to escape a pack of cave wolves. It was a pretty nasty fall.”

Caitlyn winced.

“Gods, Jayce. I thought the doctor might be exaggerating.”

The alchemist shook his head.

“I survived. That’s what matters.”

Neither of them dared to continue the conversation, and for a moment, Jayce thought Caitlyn was satisfied with that. He was wrong.

“So…” the commander began, “I suppose, given the severity of your injuries, someone must have helped you…”

Jayce went pale. He didn’t want Caitlyn to reach that conclusion. He took a moment to think through his response. He decided that a half-truth was better than arousing further suspicion.

He told her the beginning of his story with Viktor. That he had been in a coma for several days and had woken up inside the mine. He said his rescuer was a Zaunite healer, a war refugee. He insisted the man was completely harmless. He had cared for him for several weeks, and Jayce, in return, had helped with the chores necessary to survive the winter. When spring arrived, he had chosen to return to the capital. That was all.

“I didn’t want to include it in my report, because you know the prejudice that exists against Zaunites. If the Council finds out about him, they’ll go after him without a second thought.”

Caitlyn looked at him with confusion.

“But you say he’s harmless, so there shouldn’t be any issue with questioning him to corroborate your story, right?”

Jayce flinched. Without meaning to, he had trapped himself. There seemed to be no way out.

“Yes,” he answered mechanically.

The commander gave him a serious look.

“Relax, Jayce,” she said. “This is all hypothetical. You know I’d never endanger someone you care about. In fact, I’d like to meet him. You know, to thank him in person for…”

Jayce cut her off by slamming his fist on the desk.

“No! I don’t want you to look for him. He doesn’t deserve that. Promise me you won’t go after him!”

He regretted his outburst immediately. He looked at his friend and saw the alarm in her eyes. That’s when Jayce realized he had just ruined his own cover.

“I’m sorry, Cait,” he said quickly. “We spent a lot of time together down there… you have no idea how important he became to me.”

He kept his head down, unable to meet Caitlyn’s eyes. She sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers, visibly troubled.

“You’re putting me in a difficult position. It’s obvious that man did something to you—something you don’t want to talk about. It hurts that you don’t trust me, Jayce.”

The alchemist placed his hand over hers.

“There’s nothing else you need to know. Just promise me, Cait. Promise you won’t send anyone to the mines. Do it for me.”

Faced with her friend’s pleading gaze, the commander gave in.

“I promise.”

That afternoon, something fractured between them. She allowed him to return to work, and little by little, they resumed their old routines. But Caitlyn never treated him with the same easy familiarity again. He had lost her trust.

Jayce thought about telling her the truth many times, but he simply couldn’t. He knew his friend too well. If she found out he had spared the life of a Zaunite mage, it would be the end for both of them. Caitlyn had been fully consumed by her role as governor of Zaun.

A few days after his return, Caitlyn invited him out for drinks. They spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing about old times and chatting about recent political developments. Nothing especially remarkable, except that Mel Medarda now appeared to be leading the Council.

When Caitlyn mentioned her name, she glanced at him with concern.

“I hope you don’t mind me talking about her.”

Jayce smiled.

“I couldn’t care less. It’s been a long time. I guess we’ve both moved on.”

Cait took another sip of her drink.

“I suppose so,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “She’s married to her work, and you… you’re in love with Zaun.”

In that moment, Jayce knew she had already guessed the truth.

***

Weeks passed. Then a month. Life went on for Jayce, as if under some kind of anesthetic. He thought about Viktor constantly, though he kept convincing himself he was slowly forgetting. Every now and then, he would take the crystal out from the back of his wardrobe and look at it. He remembered floating under the cave ceiling with Viktor and smiled.

At night, he remembered Viktor’s body—his cold hands, his hair, his hips. The feeling of being inside him. Sometimes, he gave in to his impulses and ended up moaning his ex-lover’s name. Afterward, he felt more wretched than ever.

He considered taking out his desires on someone else more than once—but never did. He remained strangely faithful to the mage, no matter how much he tried to deny it. Even his most desperate efforts to forget him were in vain, Viktor remained ever-present in his life. Those four months together had marked him forever.

So, Jayce buried himself in work. He took every mission he could. He suppressed a few uprisings. Inspected distant towns. All of it, to forget Viktor—and to regain Caitlyn’s trust.

One afternoon, the commander summoned him urgently.

“Pack your things. At the end of the week, we’re going back to Piltover.”

Seeing Jayce’s stunned expression, Caitlyn explained that three of the councilors had just been removed. Evidence had surfaced linking them to slave trafficking, magical contraband, and other less notable crimes. The Council now rested in the hands of Mel Medarda and Cassandra Kiramman. Caitlyn’s presence was immediately required.

“Don’t worry, I already spoke with my mother about your case. You’ll be publicly exonerated. There’s nothing to fear. I could really use your help in Piltover.”

Jayce swallowed hard. He had just heard what he only dared to dream: after six years of exile, he would finally return to his hometown, his reputation restored. He felt he ought to be happy, but instead, he was terrified.

“I don’t know, Cait. Your mother has always been generous with me, but this… this is too much.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to let your pride get in the way of an opportunity like this. Besides, I think you’ve spent too long in Zaun. It’s clouded your judgment.”

At those words, Jayce had nothing more to say. He thanked her and retired to his quarters. It was true, he needed to get away from Zaun, from Viktor. No matter how much he tried to deceive himself, deep down, he was constantly struggling against the urge to see him again. By putting more distance between them, he hoped the ache of his absence would start to fade. And besides, Caitlyn was the only one who knew about his existence. With her gone, Viktor’s chances of survival would increase.

Within a few hours, he packed up everything he had acquired during those six long years. When he retrieved the crystal from the back of the wardrobe, he held it for a while in his hands, feeling its soft hum. He pressed it to his chest and closed his eyes.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he heard his voice. Viktor’s accent, the murmur of his thoughts while studying, the sound of his breath as he slept. The desire to go back to him gnawed at Jayce’s body, but the weight of guilt kept him frozen. He gripped the crystal tightly. There was no turning back now.

At the end of the week, they set out for Piltover. As he rode back to his homeland, the crystal glowed softly beneath his armor.

***

In the first few weeks, Viktor didn’t dare touch Jayce’s belongings. Everything remained in place, as if waiting for its former owner to return. His tools, his mug, the last scroll he had been studying. Even his old crutches still stood in a corner of the study.

To keep himself from being overwhelmed by the loss, the mage clung to his old routines. He had lived alone for a long time. He needed to reacquaint himself with that feeling. Every day, religiously, he followed the same schedule: breakfast, scroll studies, crystal studies, lunch, leg treatment, mine exploration, dinner, attempt to sleep.

Sometimes, after walking through the mine, Viktor would half expect to find him at the forge, rhythmically hammering a piece of metal. In those moments, the silence was crushing. He had grown used to Jayce’s noise—his voice, his laughter, his footsteps. His warmth.

He tried not to dwell on it and kept himself busy. Still, many nights, no matter how exhausted he was, sleep never came. On the morning Jayce left, Viktor had washed the sheets of his bed, trying to erase any trace of the man’s existence. It was the only place he had dared to change anything. In fact, he still hadn’t brought himself to enter the alchemist’s old room.

One sleepless night, he could no longer resist. He crossed the tunnel that led to the bedroom and stepped inside. Despite the days that had passed, it felt like Jayce had just been there. The bed still held a crease in the blanket where he used to sleep. Viktor sat on the edge and picked up his pillow. He pressed it to his face and inhaled deeply. Beneath the smell of damp stone, he could still make out the scent of his former partner—metal, wood, and a trace of sweat.

He lay down on the bed, promising himself he’d stay only a few minutes. He woke there the next morning, dried tears on his cheeks.

That same day, he decided to store all of Jayce’s belongings in one of the farthest chambers of the cave. He needed to let him go. Every object seemed to hold a fragment of the alchemist’s soul. The edge of his tools, the scent of the sheets, even the poorly washed mug. Jayce was still there, even if his body was hundreds of kilometers away.

Before putting away the forge tools, he set the small magical crystal as best he could and tied it around his neck. He told himself he kept it for research purposes—though deep down, he knew he cherished it because it made him feel connected to Jayce. He also tucked the note he’d left into the bottom of a drawer, alongside the dried snowbell petals. The only remnants of their love.

Life went on. Viktor resumed his efforts to heal his leg. He spent long hours working with the massive crystal from the depths. After a few months, he felt that his leg was finally recovering. He still walked with the help of his staff but no longer needed it for support. One afternoon, he ran through the mine until he was out of breath. The euphoria stayed with him for days. If only Jayce had seen him like that. He pressed the small crystal to his chest and tried to imagine the look in his eyes.

With his strength slowly returning, he tried to be useful. He returned to the studies Jayce had left behind. He considered crafting new crystals and continued refining his theories to overcome anti-magic weaponry. Yet, each time he attempted to cast enchantments, his hand would tremble. The runes turned erratic, unstable, as if something deep within him were fractured. After all, the arcane was fickle.

Viktor became obsessed with his magic. He tried desperately to regain his powers, to no avail. Sometimes he forgot to eat for days, and sleep evaded him entirely. With each failed attempt, the cave turned colder, quieter—sterile.

At the end of each day, he would slip into the hot spring with his eyes closed, trying to ease the pain in his exhausted body. The place always reminded him of Jayce’s laughter, his hands beneath the water. Then, he would sink beneath the surface and hold his breath until his chest ached. Sometimes, he opened his eyes underwater and imagined not coming back up.

He didn’t want to admit he had lost his way. Before, his purpose had been vengeance. With Jayce, he had truly believed they might build a different future—a future where life could be improved for everyone, regardless of race or origin. Now, he had nothing left to cling to.

He thought of seeking out Silco and his followers. He knew they must still be somewhere on the continent, regrouping, preparing to reclaim Zaun. Surely, they would welcome his help. But in his current state, Viktor was utterly useless. He would only weigh them down.

Some nights, in a futile attempt to fall asleep, he tried to touch himself the way Jayce had. He mimicked his caresses, imagined his body moving over his, his kisses, his gasps, his scent. The memories were so vivid he reached climax quickly. Afterward, only emptiness remained. Then, he would curse the arcane in silence. Curse the day it had brought Jayce into his life.

One night, dozing at his desk, worn down by fatigue, he thought he heard him. A laugh. Footsteps. He turned abruptly and saw him walk into the room. Viktor’s eyes lit up.

“You came back.”

He stood and threw himself into his arms, welcomed by Jayce’s strong embrace. Jayce smiled and kissed his forehead.

“How could I ever leave you alone, my love? My home is wherever you are.”

Viktor clung to that voice, so vivid, so real. He caressed his face. That face he saw everywhere, asleep or awake.

“Stay with me, Jayce. Please don’t go.”

It was the plea he had buried in his chest since the morning the alchemist had left. He leaned in to kiss him and felt Jayce pulling away. Viktor reached out, tried to hold him, but his lover’s body dissolved like smoke between his fingers. He fell to the floor, hard—and awoke. He realized he was lying alone in the middle of the room. It had all been a hallucination.

He covered his face with his hands. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. Where to? It didn’t matter. He just needed to get out. No matter how much he tried to deceive himself, everything in that place reminded him of Jayce. Those brief months they had shared were etched into the very stone.

He gathered what he needed to survive outside the mine and prepared to leave. Before stepping out, he caught his reflection in a bucket of water and saw the face of a hollow man. Sunken eyes, purple shadows beneath them, skin even paler than usual. His robe hung loosely from his shoulders, as though his body no longer filled it. He adjusted it, uncomfortable with the feel of his own ribs. Carefully, he tucked the small crystal into the folds of his clothing, close to his heart.

He needed to find a new beginning—something to guide him, something to drown out the echo of Jayce’s voice in his mind.

Outside the mine, the sun shone brightly. He closed his eyes and let the warmth of the air wrap around him.

Summer had come.