Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mystical beings were rampant in all parts of Runeterra; human-animal hybrids called Vastaya roamed the streets freely, krakens the size of ships resided deep underwater, Minotaurs enslaved and forced into gladiator rings as a popular form of entertainment in some parts of Noxus. Among all walks of life, selkies were considered the most coveted creatures. Known for their ethereal beauty and magnanimity towards sailors. But what made them so sought after was because one could very easily have these beautiful sea creatures for themselves, if they only got a hold of their seal coat.

Since Jayce was a child, he'd heard many tales of selkies like him getting their coat stolen and forced into a loveless marriage with a human. One of the toughest lessons he had to learn was that for his kind, freedom was not a right but a privilege―once that could easily be taken away at a moment's notice.

His mother had gone through great lengths to keep him from straying too far from her side. He was not to stay on land for too long, or to shed his coat no more than twice a year. Most of all, she had expressly forbidden him from mingling with land dwellers. Jayce had been an obedient son for the most part, staying in his seal form and avoiding humans like the plague. His lack of knowledge and stinginess towards humans was somewhat of an oddity among his peers since sentiment towards land dwellers had grown somewhat lukewarm over the years. It wasn't uncommon for some selkies to shed their skin to pose as humans just for a day; dancing to their music, drinking their beer, indulging in the commoners' practices for the fun of it. Sometimes they would even take one to bed before disappearing into the sea come the morning, leaving their lover with only memories of their passionate encounter and the faint musk of kelp and brine lingering in the air.

Recollections of these encounters had slowly chipped away at Jayce's ingrained wariness, giving way to a burning curiosity. As he grew older, he began pushing against these restrictions that had been imposed on him his entire life. He started spending time in his human form more, sunbathing along the sandy beaches and bathing in lakes with his more adventurous friend, Caitlyn. Then he got bolder, letting some humans catch glimpses of him but never letting them get close enough to touch.

There was a certain kind of thrill in toeing the line of danger but never truly crossing it, and Jayce could not lie and say that he hadn't let it go to his head. There had been a few close calls, but none had ever succeeded in stealing his coat.

Until now.

The ship rocked back and forth with the water's current, the wood creaking and moaning as waves crashed into it as if the ocean itself had recognised the unfamiliar object treading its surface and was trying to eliminate it.

The salty taste of the sea filled Jayce's tongue even while separated from the water. Just listening to the rhythmic sound of the waves, muffled as they may be from inside the ship, was enough to make his heart sing with longing. It must have been hours since he'd been taken from his pack. He surmised based on the change in the sliver of light he could see from the crack beneath the sealed door and the shuffling feet of sailors as they retreated to their sleeping quarters that it was now evening. But this piece of information, rather than providing comfort, only made dread build in his gut.

Shivers wracked his frame, a harsh reminder of the loss of his coat. In his seal form, the thick layers of blubber and fur made it so the cold was never a problem even in in the most frigid temperatures. Such was not the case for Jayce's human form―fragile as the beings were―and now even so much as a breeze made his body tremble unpleasantly. He tried to curl in on himself, only to be tugged by shackles around his wrists mid motion. Jayce huffed in frustration, wrapping the threadbare blanket covering his bare body tighter around himself. Those bastards stripped him of his coat, trapped him in his human form, and they didn't even bother to give him anything substantial to cover himself with.

The door slammed open, causing Jayce to startle. A girl with electric blue hair strode in, her braids swishing at her feet with every step. She held a lantern in one hand, lifting it up to illuminate her wide, manic eyes. Jayce scrambled back―as much as he could with the shackles tethering him to the floor―as the girl skipped closer, growing even more nervous when the girl grinned at him.

"Hello!" she crouched down to his level, cooing at him as if she were talking to a cute animal, "Aw, don't be shy."

She reached out her free hand towards him, and he bared his teeth at her in defiance. She retreated her hand, but there wasn't any fear in her eyes. If anything, she only looked joyous. 

"Woah, feisty! I like it." she sat back on her haunches, alarmingly nonchalant for someone who was talking to their captive, "I thought I'd drop by, you know, give you some company. It gets awfully lonely down here."

Jayce simply glared at her, still trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm sure your friends are out there looking for you. Not that they'd have much luck, but, well, it's the thought that counts."

The mention of his pack made Jayce's chest feel heavy with grief. To think he'd only been sunbathing on the shore with pack earlier in the day, their coats left out on the sand to dry. None of them saw the ship approaching until it was too late. Jayce was glad the rest of them managed to escape, even if it was him who got left behind.

And his mother. Oh, his poor mother. He wished he at least had the chance to say goodbye to her. He could only trust that Caitlyn would take care of her in his absence.

The girl clicked her tongue, bringing Jayce out of his thoughts, "Not much of a talker, are you?"

Jayce felt even less inclined to give her a verbal response. Rather than be incensed by his uncooperative behaviour, the girl's grin stretched wider, her sharp canines poking through chapped lips, "Aw, the seal pup is still throwing a tantrum?" she giggled at Jayce's deepening scowl, "That's alright, I can talk for the two of us. Not like you have a choice anyway, considering...you know."

"Jinx." a low, raspy voice called from the doorway. Jayce flinched, recognising the cold voice that had been barking orders at his crew when Jayce had been dragged onto this ship.

It was the captain.

The man stepped forward. The shadows seemed to tremble and swirl around him with every advance he made. His thin frame was backlit by the yellow light from the hall, casting deep shadows over his front half. Only his single, glowing eye broke through the dim room, burning with an unnatural bright red. It reminded Jayce of the lure of an anglerfish, beckoning its prey before it unhinged its jaws and swallowed them whole.

The captain exhaled through his nose in exasperation, "What are you doing?"

The girl―Jinx―sprung to her feet, seemingly unaffected by the captain's intimidating presence, a comically innocent smile on her face, "Just thought I'd check on the pup."

"I told you not to call him that," the captain's good eye flitted towards Jayce for only a second, "It will do you no good to get attached to our...cargo."

Being referred to as 'cargo' made Jayce bristle but he kept quiet, less out of defiance now and more out of genuine fear.

Jinx huffed, crossing her arms like a child getting scolded, "I'm not. I just wanted to see."

The captain looked at her for a long moment, before he shook his head and let out a tired sigh, "Go play with your gadgets. I need to have a moment with him."

Instantly, Jinx's eyes lit up. She waved goodbye to Jayce as if they'd just concluded a pleasant conversation, "See ya, pup! Hope Silco doesn't eat you alive!"

She swung the door closed on her way out, shutting out the light from outside. All that was left was the lantern she left behind and that horrible red eye staring down at Jayce. Unlike Jinx, Silco didn't bother crouching down, electing to remain standing a few feet away from Jayce, far enough that the lantern's glow barely reached him.

Jayce suddenly found himself entirely bereft of the open resistance he had before. He couldn't bring himself to look the captain in the eye, focusing instead on the tips of his shoes―the only part of him that was within the light's reach.

"You've caused us quite a bit of trouble, selkie." Silco said at last, his tone betraying no emotion.

Jayce found it in himself to muster a small smirk, barely a twitch of the lips before it quickly disappeared. Silco crept closer, and although his steps were light, they seemed to echo in the room.

Now that he was closer, Jayce could make out some of his features in the dark. A long, hooked nose, an angular face, and harsh age lines slicing through the corners of his eyes and hollow of his cheeks. Most notable of all was the scar surrounding his glowing eye; skin blackened and resembling charred flesh, and long, precise lines running all the way down from brow to cheek as if someone had taken a knife and cleaved the skin there. The sight appalled Jayce, making him wonder who―or what―must have been cruel enough to disfigure this man in such a way.

"It was hard enough to find a selkie out in the open, much less get ahold of one before they swam away. But, as luck would have it, it appears that Mother Serpent is on our side."

Jayce swallowed and forced his mouth to open, "Where are you taking me?" he asked, figuring that was a good place to start.

Silco was silent for a long moment, enough that Jayce started to doubt if he'd ever get a response, "You've been there before." he stated, making Jayce frown in confusion. His mind was already running with possibilities when Silco continued, "Do you recall the name Salo?"

At once, all the oxygen left Jayce's lungs. He did. He did remember that name. It was the name of the man who had tried to capture Jayce years ago, and had nearly succeeded if not for the incompetence of his crew. The ship they had embarked on didn't have its sails set at the right angle, causing the ship to get blown off course. In the commotion and subsequent panic as they tried to right the sails, Jayce had grabbed his coat and set off to the sea.

"He paid you to capture me again?" Jayce said in disbelief. The man's tenacity would have been admirable had it not been for the fact that he never did any of the work himself, he always had to hire other people.

Silco let out an affirming hum, as if they were discussing the weather―as if Jayce's life wasn't on the line. It made the hair on Jayce's neck stand on end.

"I'm sure you're more than aware of the lengths people will go through to covet a selkie, allured by the tales they've heard, about your otherworldly beauty, your ability to bring good fortune to sailors when they set out to sea." Silco scoffed derisively, "I am not one for such tales. Nor do I have any interest in bedding a sea creature. But, there are a handful of people who would pay a pound of gold to get their hands on one such as yourself."

Jayce clenched his jaw as the words washed over him, his heart pounding in his ribs. He understood it now; the reason why Silco was being so blase about all this was because for him this was just a one and done thing. It was nothing personal. The act of selling Jayce off to a despicable man was simply his way of earning a living. Somehow this only made Jayce feel worse.

Silco lingered, giving time for everything he said to fully sink in, making sure that not a single word escaped Jayce's mind. Finally, he took a step back, effectively ending their exchange with that simple action. On his way out, he picked up the lantern Jinx had left behind, taking away the only light source in the room. Jayce felt a rise of indignation, ready to voice his protest, when Silco spoke again.

"I reckon it will take us a while before we reach land. Do try and make yourself comfortable in the mean time."

Jayce glanced pointedly at his bound wrists, although, he did not doubt that Silco hadn't forgotten about that particular detail.

Silco gripped the handle of the door, pausing in the doorway as he took one final look at Jayce.

"Welcome aboard."

That was the last thing Silco said before he slammed the door shut. Now bathed in darkness once more, Jayce collapsed in on himself, curled up on the cold wooden floor. For the first time since arriving here, he felt well and truly helpless.

The eviction notice was going to go down as the worst birthday present anyone had ever received in the history of Runeterra.

Viktor had been rudely greeted that morning by a piece of paper being slid under his front door. Before he even had the chance to read it, he was hit with a heavy feeling of dread, as if he already knew what it was. His suspicious were confirmed when he finally sat down to read it, and just like that, his entire day had gone up in flames before he even had his morning coffee.

Viktor slammed the paper face-down on the table, pinching the bridge of his nose so hard that it stung, "Fucking hell."

He couldn't say he was shocked. He'd been barely scrounging enough money all month to afford a full meal, much less pay rent, but the fact that the notice arrived on his birthday specifically was just the final kick in the balls. Viktor would prefer actually getting kicked in the balls compared to this.

He needed to think of a plan now if he didn't want to freeze to death out on the streets. Perhaps he could stay at an inn for two or three days at most while he searched for somewhere he could take up residence in the long term. Worst case scenario, he became a nomad and took up a job as a travelling bard. He was no good with crowds however, and his singing would probably cause an avalanche, which meant that idea was off the table.

Outside, the sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, shining the first morning rays into his small sitting room. With it came the distant sounds of the coastal town waking up to the start of a new day; doors and windows being opened to welcome the morning breeze, shopkeepers setting up, and scattered voices of people ready to start the new day. Once upon a time, Viktor had loved the calmness of early mornings. There was a certain peace during this specific time of day, one that was lost when the morning transitioned into noon and the streets were busy and flooded with people, then into the almost oppressive silences at night as the workers walked home and all the lights had been blown out.

Today, however, Viktor couldn't bring himself to enjoy it. Incredible how a single piece of paper could do so much damage.

He heaved a sigh and rose from his chair, grabbing his crutch from where it leaned against the edge of the table. His leg twinged in pain as he stood―as it did more often these past days. Not enough to keep him from getting through the day, but certainly enough to be inconvenient.

His eyes roamed over the various tools placed about in his small sitting room. Graphite pencils and half-empty bottles of ink littered the desk, fine chisels for carving into woodblocks with engraved images, scrolls bearing nautical charts and topographic maps of every geographic location in Valoran Viktor could gather information on. He'd spent years, decades even, gathering all this knowledge, had begged to the academy on his hands and knees more times than he could count so they could fund his travels. And where did all of that lead him? Penniless and in the midst of being driven out of his own home.

The thought of seeking asylum at the academy crossed his mind, but he shut down that line of thought as quickly as it entered. The academy was only so giving to their students so long as those students could give back. Even after all these years, Viktor still hadn't been able to pay back his debts, and he certainly wouldn't be able to now. If he were to come knocking on their doors in his sorry state, he'd imagine that their reactions would be less than kind.

Viktor ran a hand through his hair, fingers getting caught in the tangles. He mentally tallied up the prices of his tools, taking note of the pricier ones and the ones that were in less than stellar condition from constant use. If he sold his tools to the pawn shop, it would probably grant him a dozen coins to pocket. Not enough to last him more than a day, but enough to at least book a room at an inn. He'll worry about food after.

He opened the closet under his stairs, barely even a foot wide, in search of a bag big enough to hold everything. But when he picked up a chisel, his hand wouldn't move despite his brain's input. The chisel remained in his white-knuckled grip, the familiar ridges of its handle beckoning Viktor, reminding him of many a nights spent cutting blocks of wood, carving shapes of archipelagos into the grains and painting it over with ink. The pride and satisfaction as he pressed the wood against the sheet and ink bled into the paper to form a map. He would never go through that process again.

Foolish, he chided himself in his head. A chisel was not more important than being able to afford basic shelter. What use would any of his work be if he allowed himself to die out in the streets?

With his mind made up, he gathered all his belongings into the bag and set out to the pawn shop.

"Happy birthday to me." he muttered to himself.

The pawn shop at the next street over used to be run by an old, burly man named Benzo. After his untimely death, the ownership was passed down to his young apprentice, Ekko.

Ekko, despite his young age, had eyes that glinted with a certain kind of solemnity, the kind that Viktor only saw on soldiers returning from battle and on elderly people who decided they'd had enough of an eventful life and retired to the coastal town right at the edge of Piltover so they could spend their remaining days in peace. It was this exact trait of Ekko that made Viktor warm up to him when he'd otherwise prefer to keep himself occupied with his charts and maps all day rather than interact with a living being. He was aware that it said less than flattering things about himself when the closest person he could call a friend was a teenager.

The shop was nearly empty this early in the day, save for Ekko himself and a stout old man he was locked in a rather loud dispute with. When the door jingled upon opening, announcing Viktor's arrival, Ekko didn't even spare him a glance.

"Listen, you can't possibly convince me that this pile of junk are the real bones of Gangplank's severed arm. This is obviously just something you hobbled together with sticks and clay."

"This is no fake, I'm telling you," the old man insisted, "I knew the doctor who amputated his arm before I got a hold of it. Just ask him! He can vouch for me."

Ekko sighed and dragged a hand down his face, "Look, even if it's real―which it definitely isn't―I don't want someone's bones in my shop!"

Viktor cleared his throat loudly, which finally made the two notice his presence.

"Good morning, Ekko. I see you're having a productive morning," Viktor said as he smoothly cut in front of the old man, ignoring his sputtering protests, "In any case, I've got something for you. Hopefully it will be more of interest to you than what he's offering."

"Excuse me?"

Ekko huffed in amusement, completely ignoring the old man in favour of turning his attention to Viktor, "Alright, what you got there?"

"My life's worth accumulated into one place," Viktor replied shortly, struggling to lift the bag over the counter, "And it's all yours now."

Ekko rifled through its contents, frowning as he lifted a map of Piltover and turned it over in his hands. He looked back up at Viktor, the levity in his eyes disappearing.

"Viktor, what is this?"

"I've been evicted and I need the money to buy me somewhere to stay for a while." Viktor said without preamble. He saw no use in beating around the bush, and anyway, Ekko likely would have seen right through any deflection he could have made.

"So, what, you're just going to sell your life's work?"

Viktor sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I've already lost my home, Ekko. Losing these would be a drop in the bucket in comparison."

Ekko was silent for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he shrugged, "Then you need a new job, and I've got one in mind just for you. Think of it as my birthday gift to you."

Viktor raised a brow incredulously, "You're asking me to work at your pawn shop?"

Ekko barked out a laugh and shook his head, "Oh, no, you'd be terrible." he said, causing Viktor to frown. He completely agreed with Ekko, but he couldn't help but feel vaguely insulted. "I'm asking if you'll be up for helping the Firelights out on a mission."

Viktor froze. The Firelights were a ragtag group of bandits Ekko led when he wasn't busy manning the register or haggling with customers over prices. The group didn't really cause much trouble except for being a constant thorn in the enforcers' side, and they never targeted any of the downtrodden or plain ordinary folk. They, of course, did what any bandits were known for; stealing from nobles who had too much to spare and intercepting transportation of goods. But if Viktor were being frank, he didn't see what they were doing as too great a crime, and really, they made the city a little less boring. 

"A mission?" Viktor echoed, not even bothering to hide his disbelief, "And what am I supposed to do?"

Ekko leaned his arms on the counter, pinning Viktor with a weighty look, "We're being paid to track down some pirates and bring them to Piltover, alive, preferably. Can't try a criminal when they're dead, after all. The person who hired us―not allowed to say who―promised to pay us eight hundred gold coins if we succeed. With that offer, every single Firelight member will be set for life. Only problem is, the Firelights have never travelled by sea. We've hijacked ships, of course, but we've never sailed one. That's where you come in.

"We need a navigator. Someone who knows the entire map of Runeterra like the back of their hand, and who has some experience manning a ship so we don't sink to the bottom of the ocean. We split the money between us, and you don't have to sell any of your stuff."

The offer was tempting; Viktor could earn a small fortune without having to work himself to the bone or sell every piece of his life. Perhaps if he'd still been in his teens or early twenties―self-assured and raging at the world―the idea of leaving everything behind to go adventuring with a bunch of outlaws would have stirred some excitement within him. Now, he was in his mid-thirties, and he'd grown weary and hardened over the years. He'd lost the hunger of his youth, the unquenched thirst for something greater. There was also something about it that gave him pause. If the Firelights were being paid so much for catching a pirate, then it could only mean that this crew of pirates were of great importance. And the fact that Ekko still hadn't revealed exactly who this pirate was made Viktor wary.

"I'm still here!" the old man protested from behind him. Viktor had completely forgotten about him, to be honest.

"Come back when you have something better to offer." Ekko shot back without missing a beat.

"So, who exactly is this pirate?" Viktor asked.

The sudden hesitation on Ekko's face spoke volumes. There was a pregnant pause between them as the boy weighed his words, before saying something that made Viktor's heart drop straight into his stomach.

"Silco, the Captain of the Eye."

Viktor's response was immediate, "No."

"Viktor―"

"No, no, absolutely not."

"Ah, the Pirate King Silco," the old man breathed out in an almost reverent tone, "Some say that people who look into his glowing, red eye will have their souls sucked out of their body, turning them into husks of their former selves."

"Oh, great," Viktor drawled sarcastically, "So death isn't even the worst part, I could also get my soul stolen."

"Hey, that guy tried to scam me a minute ago, I'd take any word he says with a grain of salt." Ekko pointed out.

"My cousin Johnny fought him once," the old man continued as if Ekko hadn't said anything, "They strapped him to the hull of their ship and sailed around with his body exposed to the elements."

Ekko paused, "...Okay, now that―that might be real. I've heard he does do that."

"Come to think of it, I believe he also collects the bones of the people he's murdered in his office as trophies."

Ekko shot the old man a glare, "Alright, you need to stop talking, you're not making this easier for me."

But Viktor was already moving to pick up his bag. He would not typically call it hubris for someone to try and capture a pirate, but to believe they could capture the Pirate King went far beyond hubris―it was downright stupidity.

"If you won't buy from me, then I'll just try my luck elsewhere." he said, grunting from the effort as he threw the bag over his shoulder.

Ekko sighed, "I'll give you twenty-five percent of the pay."

Viktor hesitated for a second, the rational part of his brain forcing him to consider it in spite of everything else. On one hand, he would likely die in abject poverty if he didn't take this job. On the other, he could earn a small fortune if he did take on this job, but he would surely die in the process. One was clearly a worse option than the other.

"Nope. Goodbye." he said briskly, turning around.

"Thirty-five percent."

"I am not putting a price tag on my life―"

"Fifty."

Viktor swivelled around and held his hand out for a shake, "You have yourself a deal."

~~~

Had he believed his words would have any influence and had he not been in such a desperate situation, he would have advised Ekko against going through with this mission at all. But Ekko was not a child he could control, and Viktor suspected that he had not been a child for a very long time. 

They trekked deep into the seedier part of town, south of the Entresol district where Viktor's house was, where Ekko said the Firelights' hideout was located in. No one paid them any mind as they walked past ramshackle buildings and dark, narrow alleyways that just beckoned trouble for anyone who walked in. The sight did not perturb Viktor the way it would for any other person; after all, he grew up in these streets before he went on to study at the academy. He'd left this piece of his past behind in search of greener pastures, only to come back decades later in search of something that could get him out of the mess he'd found himself in. The irony was not lost on him.

Viktor didn't know what his expectations were, but for Ekko to pry open a manhole and climb inside was decidedly not one of them. Viktor simply stared in bafflement, unmoving. After a beat of stillness Ekko poked his head out and raised a brow, as if to say, 'are you coming or not?'.

Viktor sighed and climbed in after him. Fifty percent, Viktor, he reminded himself over and over again.

His feet landed on the damp ground, soaking the soles of his shoes. Viktor opened his mouth to make a dry comment about how unfortunate it would be if a case of foot fungus was the one that did him in before he even had the chance to face the Pirate King, but he stopped himself when he saw Ekko place a finger on his lips. Ekko then rapped his knuckles on the wall, knocking in the tune of a sea shanty Viktor would occasionally hear the sailors chanting as they drunkenly stumbled out the bar doors. It echoed through the tunnels, and for a while, no other sound came except for the lonely tune.

Then, a set of heavy footsteps resounded from deeper into the tunnel, the slosh of water accompanying them. Viktor tensed up in alarm, but upon seeing Ekko's calm expression he forced himself to relax.

A woman rounded the corner a second later. Her bright pink hair stood out starkly in the dingy sewer, and even from this distance Viktor could tell that she had the build of a fighter―broad shoulders and wiry limbs, with the thin outline of veins running down her arms. The sleeves of her jacket were rolled up to reveal tattoos across her forearm, the intricate swirls of ink resembling inner components of a machine.

Her gaze sharpened when they landed on Viktor, "Ekko," she said cautiously, "Who's this?"

"Relax, Vi, he's a cartographer. He's going to help us catch Silco."

"He's an outsider," the woman―Vi, hissed, "No one except our people are allowed inside. You know this."

"Why are you reminding me like I wasn't one of the people who enforced that rule?" Ekko retorted, "You know me, Vi, you know I wouldn't let anyone in unless I knew we could trust them. We can trust Viktor."

Ekko didn't seem at all intimidated by her. The same could not be said for Viktor, who could tell from the bandages wrapped tightly around her hands that there had been plenty of unfortunate souls who got well-acquainted with the back of her knuckles. If Viktor didn't play his cards right, she very well could easily pummel Viktor's sorry ass into the ground if she deemed him a threat. 

"Er, if I may," Viktor interjected, raising his hand as if he were in class again waiting to be called by the teacher, "I'm only here for the job. I do not intend to, eh, reveal your hideout nor do I expect to be made a part of your group. I'm in quite a dire situation, you see, and I was promised by your friend here that I would be getting a cut of the pay if I helped you on your journey. Once the mission in finished, I will be back to minding my own business."

Vi's eyes narrowed as she scanned him for any cracks in his explanation. 

"It's also my birthday?" Viktor tried after a beat of silence.

Vi snorted, "Happy birthday." she said dryly.

"Thank you." Viktor replied. From his periphery, he could see Ekko shaking his head at them with a dumbfounded expression, mouthing 'what the hell is happening' to no one in particular.

"So, you're not gonna rat us out to the enforcers?"

Viktor shrugged, "I just want my money, if I'm being honest."

Vi exchanged a look with Ekko, and whatever she saw there made her sigh and loosen her stance into something less defensive. "Alright, fine. Just don't try anything."

Viktor glanced at Ekko, to which the boy simply shrugged in response. He supposed that was as good a confirmation as any.

All in all, the worst part about traversing through the sewer tunnels wasn't even the filth. It wasn't even the stench of rot and fecal matter, or the shallow puddles of dirty water submerging his feet, or the sludge made up of of god-knows-what that clung to Viktor's leg brace as they trudged through the sewers; it was the nonsensical layout. Had Ekko not been taking the lead, Viktor was sure that he would have easily been lost in the dark, labyrinthine maze of tunnels.

Viktor recalled one expedition with a research team to a secluded area in central Valoran, east of Shurima, aptly called the Silent Forest. He'd gotten separated with his team at one point, and he'd been wandering the thicket for miles and miles until the sun began its descent beneath the horizon. Wherever direction he went, all he could see were trees and bramble packed together so tightly that he'd almost been tricked into thinking he hadn't left his initial spot at all. Even his compass had wonky, its needle spinning erratically, pointing every which direction. It had felt as though the forest itself had been actively working against him, attempting to purge him out of itself through sheer force. It had been one of the more unfortunate expeditions he'd been on, and in the end, none of them had found what they were looking for to make the trouble they'd gone through worth it.

Viktor shook off those thoughts with a shudder. Ekko glanced back at him, brows furrowed in concern. He must have been unnerved by how silent Viktor had been the entire time, or maybe he had somehow sensed the man's unease.

"You alright?" he asked.

Viktor shook his head, smoothing his face out into a neutral expression, "How much closer are we?" he redirected.

"Not too far now," Vi answered, "You'll know when you see them."

Viktor didn't have the chance to ask who 'them' was because as soon as they rounded the corner, he got his answer.

Dozens and dozens of firelight bugs were buzzing around, producing a toxic green light from their bodies that bathed the entire tunnel in vivid color. Viktor mused idly that this must be why they named themselves the Firelights. 

"Everyone thought they went extinct." Viktor watched one whizz past him with barely contained awe, "Were they hiding down here this whole time?"

"They're one of the few things that can thrive in the pollution," Ekko said, "They hatch their eggs in the runoff and they get carried around by the pipes, dispersing them throughout the entire underground. You'll find no shortage of these guys here."

"He never misses the opportunity to monologue about them to new recruits. Everyone and the sewer rats have heard everything there is to know about the firelights." Vi said with amusement.

Ekko rolled his eyes at her without any heat, "He asked."

True to Ekko's word, more and more firelight bugs popped out from the dark the deeper they went, some even attaching themselves to their clothes, curious of these giants encroaching on their territory. The walls of the tunnel broadened, and just when Viktor was starting to get fed up with the amount of turns they were taking, the passage gave way to a large opening in the wall. Bright light filtered through from the other side, looking out of place in the rundown sewer and the bioluminescent glow of the firelight bugs. 

Viktor had to blink repeatedly at the light assaulting his vision. The presence of such light in itself was odd considering where they were. The next thing he registered―and equally odd―was the unmistakable sensation of a warm breeze washing over his skin. When his vision cleared enough for him to take in his surroundings, stretching out before him was an entirely different world.

Far from the narrow, dingy tunnels they'd traversed through to get here, on the other side of the opening led to a tall, cylindrical structure built into the sewer system. The area was illuminated by a hole at the very top, allowing the natural light to shine down on even the filthiest part of the city. The next that drew Viktor's eyes were the colorful buildings that lined the walls, seemingly constructed by whatever sturdy materials they could access; wooden planks and sheets of metal for the walls and roof, copper railings lining the sides of the bridges connecting the homes together. At the center of it all was a single sapling glimmering beneath the sun rays shining down upon it.

Viktor must have looked quite foolish the longer he stared. He could even see Vi and Ekko's amused smirks from the corner of his eye, "This...was not what I was expecting."

Vi snorted, "What, were you expecting an evil lair?"

"No, not that exactly. It's just so much more ordinary than I thought it would be. This looks more like a community than a hideout."

The pride in Ekko's voice was unmistakable, "You're right about that. Every single person you see here has lost something. Their family, their dreams, their home," he shot Viktor a meaningful look as he said the last part, "So we created a place that will accept them. None of these guys are bad people. They've made mistakes, yes, but for the most part they're all just desperate people trying to get by. That's why we do the things we do, so that the money can go to the people who actually need them."

Viktor understood―he'd never understood anything more in his life. And that was making it really hard to linger on any doubts he had for this mission. He wondered if the reason why Ekko was so quick to enlist his help was because, in his mind, Viktor was just another person in need. He would already be helping Viktor just by giving him half of the pay, but the implication that he was offering him a new home with the Firelights as well...Viktor wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. He still felt like―and was, in all respects―an outsider. He didn't think that feeling would ever go away with time.

He glanced over at Vi, who had been uncharacteristically quiet while Ekko spoke. Her eyes were distant, as if she'd retreated into to some far-off land. When she caught him looking, the shutters went back down and she shrugged one shoulder in dismissal as if to make up for the brief slip. Viktor knew better than to pry.

Ekko stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew out a shrill whistle, commanding the attention of the rest of the Firelights bustling about. Most of them had noticed Viktor right away and eyed him with blatant suspicion. But what really got Viktor was how young most of them were. Some looked the same age as Vi or Ekko, while a few might have even been younger than that.

Viktor tried to wave at one of the kids, and they gave him the middle finger.

Viktor grimaced, putting his hand back down. Okay, yep, message received. 

Their cold disposition didn't let up considerably as Ekko introduced Viktor to all of them. Ekko kept it brief and clinical, leaving out the part where Viktor had just been evicted from his home and mostly just including his expertise in his field. For that, Viktor was grateful; he wouldn't have wanted this to turn into a pity party so soon after his life got upended, and he'd rather have the Firelights trust in his skills rather than to base their opinion on him off of his misfortunes.

"So, you make maps?" a girl with similarly colored hair to Vi questioned, voice dripping with scepticism.

"That's a gross oversimplification, but yes." Viktor answered.

"And how exactly are you going to help us track down Silco?"

"Well, considering we have no way of knowing his exact location at this exact time, I can only make approximations," Viktor reached into a pouch strapped to his belt and unrolled a map of Runeterra, gesturing for the others to come closer and take a look.

"Most likely, he's in Bilgewater Bay, though how we'll get there is another challenge entirely. You see that border surrounding the island?" he pointed at the map, "That area is full of rocky cliffs jutting out of the water. When the sea is at high tide, you won't even notice them until your ship is crashing right into one. If you try to avoid them by taking the west passage, you'll come across another problem, which is the storms. These vicious things can take out an entire war vessel. They're not impossible to survive through, but if we want to make it back to shore with our ship in one piece, they are best to be avoided."

Vi heaved a sigh, "Great. So basically we're screwed either way."

"Not exactly," Viktor said, "There are ways to avoid the cliffs, which can be possible if you're travelling with a relatively small vessel. One that is also easily maneuverable." he paused, looking around, "We do have a ship, don't we?"

All the Firelights chuckled to themselves as if he'd said something outrageous. Viktor had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.

Ekko had a smirk on his face that only spelled trouble, "Not yet." 

And that was how Viktor found himself hiding below the harbour, his limbs awkwardly contorted as he balanced himself on one of the wooden beams holding the pier aloft. One hand gripped his crutch while the other held onto the beam for dear life. All his previous thoughts of this is a bad idea this is a bad idea this is a bad idea, have since transitioned to think of the money think of the money. The first thing he was going to spend it on was a cottage in the woods. It will be a lovely cottage and he was going to have a garden in the backyard and he will never wish for any excitement in his life ever.

The rest of the Firelights were not too far, though they seemed to have a much easier time finding purchase on the beams than Viktor was. It was an odd feeling, to be the oldest person in the group while also being the most inexperienced for once―inexperienced in crime, yes, but inexperienced nonetheless.

All of them were deadly silent so as to not give their position away. The pier creaked and moaned loudly above their heads as people walked on it, and each one of them held their breaths every time someone passed by. 

Like a bubble bursting, they were alerted by panicked yelling in the distance. They all sprung into action, climbing out from under the pier―except for one boy, a Chirean named Scar, who stayed behind to give Viktor a hand and haul him up.

"Thanks." Viktor muttered, though he wasn't sure if Scar heard him over the commotion. Around them, dock workers were running about in panic while bewildered spectators gaped slack-jawed as a Frigate was detached from its cable. Vi stood at the helm, steering the vessel away from its station. Viktor was in no place to make assumptions, but he believed it wouldn't be wrong to say that the woman's many skills did not include steering a ship.

"Grab the line!" Ekko yelled from atop the deck. At his call, the other Firelights on the ship uncoiled the rope from its spool and threw it down to hang over the side of the ship. The enforcers had been called, and they were now hot on their heels, yelling at them to halt as if that would somehow make them turn around and surrender themselves.

Viktor let out a long-suffering groan. Now he was really starting to regret this.

"Alright. Suppose I just have to run for it," he muttered to himself, "I can do that."

He could not, in fact, do that. If it weren't for Scar pushing him ahead, he likely would have planted his face onto the ground. His leg burned with every movement, a crushing ache radiating from his calf to his hip, but he pushed on anyway, even as he stumbled like a newborn fawn. As he neared the rope, he glanced back, immediately regretting it when he saw that the enforcers were advancing on them.

Scar turned to him with urgency in his eyes, "Give me your crutch."

"Um...I kind of need this to move."

"Just give it to me. You can't climb up while carrying that thing."

He had a point there. Viktor reluctantly handed his crutch over to Scar. His bad leg burned with the additional weight his body was putting on it.

One by one, the Firelights climbed up the ship, hoisting themselves up. Viktor managed to grasp the end of the rope before the ship had completely drifted away from the shore. Viktor cursed as his feet were lifted off the ground, a hair's breadth away from being grabbed by one of the enforcers.

The sound of the Firelights cheering and hollering reached his ears as he hauled his exhausted body onto the deck, just barely keeping himself from collapsing into a heap on the floor. While he crouched on the ground catching his breath, the end of his crutch entered his line of sight. He looked up and registering a second later that Scar was offering his crutch back.

Viktor accepted it gratefully, "Thank you." he wheezed, still out of breath. Scar acknowledged him with a nod.

"Got your stuff," Ekko approached, lugging around the bag full of Viktor's tools over his shoulder. Among those things were a map of Runeterra, as well as a much more detailed map of Bilgewater, his compass and telescope. "You think this is everything we need?" Ekko asked.

"I believe so. And, anyway, it's a bit too late to go back for something."

"We can always steal whatever we need along the way." Ekko answered nonchalantly.

Right, bandits, how could Viktor forget.

"Hey, congratulations on your first step to becoming a Firelight." Vi called out, walking up to them with a crooked grin, "You good, though? You look like you're about to keel over."

"That's because I am." Viktor deadpanned.

Vi chuckled, "Come on, don't tell me you've already had enough. This is just the beginning."

"Vi," Ekko groaned, "Who's steering the ship?"

Vi waved a hand dismissively, "Ah, it's fine, Eve's got it."

Ekko groaned even louder and sprinted off to make sure his crew didn't crash the ship before they even got to their destination. Vi gave Viktor a brief pat on the back, before following after Ekko at a much more relaxed pace.

Viktor huffed and shook his head. He looked out into the distance, watching Piltover grow smaller and smaller, the townsfolk looking almost like ants this far away. His mind wandered to his tiny, shambling house near the docks, then to the eviction notice left abandoned on the table in his haste to leave.

All of it was miles away, separated by the blue expanse of the sea. Soon on their journey, there would be nothing but the sea. He'd be overcome with this feeling of restlessness and exhilaration before every one of his expeditions, without fail. Even after a decade, the feeling never failed to overwhelm Viktor with its intensity, doubly so now that he was uncertain of his destination―if they would even make it.

He sucked in a deep inhale, feeling the sting of sea spray go down his lungs. It felt like the first full breath he'd taken since that morning.