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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a partner. This truth is so fixed in the minds of our countrymen that the moment such a man settles in a new neighborhood, he is considered the rightful property of two incompatible sorts of suitors awaiting to discover what manner of man he is: the handsome sort in want of a spouse, or the proud sort in need of a business associate. There is, of course, the rare fellow who seems suited to both descriptions, and Piltover County’s rare man was Mr. Jayce Talis.

It was commonly a surprise then that Mr. Jayce Talis remained tragically uncoupled, a situation largely imposed by his uncompromising focus on his work and the truth that the only neighborhood he ever stepped foot in was his own. He had a few failed love affairs in his history, but even those were few and far between for a man so generally accepted as being distinguished and handsome. Everyone populating his meager circle could see the tragedy of it.

“Mr. Talis, come to my family’s ball tonight. We must find you a partner. I cannot stand seeing you alone much longer.”

It was an ironic statement coming from Miss Caitlyn Kiramman, whose unfortunate singleness nearly rivaled Jayce’s. Caitlyn’s excuses were far more sound, however. She had lived as a caged bird on her family’s grounds, hardly ever freed to visit the world outside. Her parents' misguided treatment had backfired now, as she had become much too old to be a lady acceptably absent a partner.

“Did my mother put you up to this?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But she only thinks of what is best for your house.”

It was an annoyance as much as it was a truth.

The House of Talis had not long been settled in Piltover. Nor was it a noble house, but it was well-connected and had existed respectably in a manner to attract the good graces of those nearest to them. Jayce and his mother, the sole inheritors of the name, resided at a modest estate constructed from the spoils of their families' long-established business and erected with much credit to the family’s products. For the Talises were renowned toolsmiths, and the hammers and nails that preserved the integrity of many of the estates across this countryside were engraved with the three-pointed cross of the Talis crest.

Mr. Talis regrettably did not achieve the advanced age his widow did, and Mr. Jayce Talis was his single heir at the time of his passing. This, perhaps, was the House of Talis’s biggest fault: only two residing in Piltover bore the family name. There lay the justification for Mrs. Talis’s constant prodding of her son to marry and start a family of his own. The need exceeded expectation or the customary compulsion, it was an unequivocal necessity.

“I assure you, however, the event wouldn’t be solely for your mother’s benefit, Mr. Talis. My family is expecting me to find a partner at this ball and I would appreciate it if you accompanied me through it. Any endeavors you pursue on your own would simply be a further benefit.”

“I will consider it. Is that truly the purpose of the event?”

“Yes. The farther branches of our tree convinced my parents. It seems there were no other suitable options anyone could devise. One of my uncles suggested I should marry you , of all people.” 

“I presume you struck him across the face, then?”

“That is not proprietary of a lady , Mr. Talis. If only I had my pistol on me at the time, so I might’ve unloaded its contents into his chest. I find that more respectable.”

“Agreed. I might’ve dished out a large sum to see it.”

A shout echoed behind them.

“It seems I must let you go,” Caitlyn sighed. “See you at the ball then?”

“We shall see.”

Jayce bowed and left her to her own devices.

Once Jayce retired to his home and mentioned the event to his mother, his attendance became inevitable. At least there was always the possibility of finding fine men interested in doing business, or interested in agreeing to do business at a later date in a room with a much damper spirit and quieter air. 

The Kiramman hall was tall and long, already lively in spite of Jayce’s early arrival. Caitlyn and her mother greeted him soon enough, and spoke with both extensively on vacillating points relating in large part to business and the weather, before a hidden glance was passed to him by Caitlyn. With inconspicuous words, Jayce swept Caitlyn away from her mother and freed her to join the dancing as was always planned, away from her parents’ watchful eyes.

The line of well-dressed dancers grew quickly, but Jayce made no effort to join. He simply wandered the far parts of the room, boring himself with quick greetings to familiar faces. It remained so till he set his bored eyes on another familiar face, one whose mere sight delighted him. His skin was pale, but his features downturned with darkness and a striking sharpness, all framed by a wash of brown hair that appeared as soft as it most certainly felt.

“My goodness, if it isn’t Mr. Reveck!”

“Viktor, please.”

That familiar harmonious accent, which at that moment he couldn’t quite remember the origin of, ran like honey over his hungry ears. He carried no hesitation in wrapping Viktor in a long-overdue embrace, a gladness brewing within him with the potential to make the entire affair of the ball justifiable.

“How long has it been?”

“Not too many years.”

“It has felt too long all the same. Life chooses when to be slow and when to be quick at random, it seems.”

“How come you aren’t enjoying the dancing, Mr. Talis?”

“I cannot dance if my life were bet on it,” he claimed. “And why are you not joining in the dance? Oh, of course, your leg.”

“What of it?”

“If I recall correctly, your right leg has some weakness.”

“No. It is perfectly fine.”

Viktor stretched it out as if to prove it.

“But I’m certain you used to walk with a cane.”

“Only for show, Mr. Talis, only for show. Gentlemen often use them.”

That did not feel right in the slightest, and an element of it unnerved him greatly, but Jayce decided not to press the issue in the case of appearing odd. Usually his memory served him well.

“In that case, why are you not dancing?”

“I prefer to dance with a partner, and tonight I have none.”

“I am quite surprised you still do not have one after all this time, but I’m quite sure you could pick someone up. I cannot be sure you know this, Viktor, but you are an exceedingly handsome man.”

“Thank you, but I have no intention of going hunting. I enjoy the spectacle of it all well enough.”

“I could dance with you,” escaped Jayce’s mouth before he could leash it. Cherry red bled through under his cheeks.

“I couldn’t possibly bother you with such a thing.”

“I am not accompanied either. I would love to join you.”

Viktor’s mouth bent into a soft pout as his eyes wandered along the paths of Jayce’s body, studying him in a similar manner to his examinations of Talis tools Jayce had attempted to sell him.

“I would be remiss to refuse such a generous offer.”

Jayce smiled without abandon as Viktor showed him away. The music had slowed to a pace in which sentimentality outweighed gaiety, but the slugishness was appreciated by Jayce’s unpracticed dancing feet. They joined the line of couples and partners, moving in time with the band. Jayce kept his gaze off of Viktor’s as not to embarrass them both, but Viktor was kind even in his silence, and shushed Jayce’s apologies and curses when his steps landed on Viktor’s.

As his eyes darted around the room, refusing to settle on Viktor’s, Jayce caught sight of Miss Kiramman’s dance partner further down the line, a handsome and imposing woman with blush-pink hair. He forced himself to take notice of trivial details, but his eyes did wander back to Viktor every so often for the necessity of the dancing, and each time Jayce was reminded of another striking feature of Viktor’s figure.

The pair were a more agreeable-appearing match than Jayce would have ever suspected, and the impression he received was that he was not the only one to take notice. His gaze discovered many attendees already looking his way, including those whose words made waves such as Mrs. Kiramman. He studied the unjust beauty of Viktor’s features once again, merely scientifically, of course. They were both quite handsome men. The patrons might have already assumed them to be coupled.

When the song ceased, Jayce left the hall’s center with such immediacy that he nearly tripped, bringing Viktor along with him to the benches at the side. The two watched the many undoubtedly romantic couples who joined in at the next song while Jayce held Viktor’s back, which, for a reason unknown to him, seemed to match the shape of his hand perfectly. Dread festered in his chest as he spotted loving glances between the pairs, reminded only that he would soon return to his mother with nothing to show of the occasion. When he looked away from the throng and settled his eyes on the profile of Viktor’s face, he developed an unequivocally terrible proposal.

“I have an unequivocally terrible proposal,” Jayce uncovered, drawing Viktor’s eyes to him.

“Well then, I must hear it.”

“Pretend to be my partner,” Jayce begged. “And not a partner in business, but a lover.”

“Pretend?”

“Yes. My mother’s desperation for me to find someone grows each morning and I can no longer bear it. I only ask that we all have dinner. I shall parade you around until her, and my neighbors, frankly, are temporarily satiated.”

“Are you quite set on this idea?”

“I am.”

“It might be best to take this into further consideration, but for reasons unknown to me, I require no such compulsion. I shall be your…partner.”

“Bless you, dear Viktor, you are an angel sent by Janna herself! If you shall allow me, I may present my thanks in an allowance of your specification.”

“No compensation is necessary. You are a dear friend. Now, I must be off. I suppose we shall see each other in due time…partner.”

Jayce thought himself insane on his carriage home and had all but decided to retract his words to Viktor by the morning. But when his mother hastily found him, as she often did, the look of expectation in her eyes disarmed him.

“When are you inviting him over for dinner?”

“I sent the invitation this afternoon.”

Later, when Jayce was in his office in the company building, it was not long before Viktor came to meet him. Jayce relieved him of his coat promptly, but greeted him with not much more than a bashful smile. Viktor’s vest pulled snugly around his body, but his shirt and sleeves had a fullness that only highlighted the thinness of his arms. When the silence had stretched too long, Viktor took it upon himself to rectify it.

“Need I remind you that you invited me , Mr. Talis. I am expecting more than silence.”

“Jayce.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Jayce. Never Mr. Talis.”

“Apologies, Mr.— Jayce , I meant no offence.”

The sound of his given name on Viktor’s lips, despite its impropriety, washed him of much of his anxiety.

“And none was received. I only mean to remind you that we are friends, Viktor. No formality is necessary. We are friends, are we not?”

“We were, Jayce. In lives before these. In this life, we have hardly been acquainted.”

“Now you’ve stumbled into the reason for your summoning. We must catch up, close the gap we’ve built.”

“For this farce to make believers out of anyone?”

“Quite so.”

They plainly detailed the intricacies of their current business and estates, avoiding eye contact and awkwardly refusing to sit. At least in Viktor’s mouth his words were far from boring, and Jayce did his best to not bore Viktor in return. When it seemed they had finally reached their limits, Viktor finally settled himself on a sofa and Jayce moved them along to other matters.

“I suppose we should acquaint ourselves with closeness.”

“Uh, yes,” Viktor softly agreed.

“Do you mind if I join you on that seat?”

“Of course not.”

But when Jayce stepped forward, Viktor at once appeared nervous. And when Jayce settled next to him and slid closer, he seemed positively flushed. He had always been diffident, but far less commonly in Jayce’s presence, at least until that moment. The absence grown over the years, compiled with the sudden intimacy thrust upon them, must have been the wellspring of the timidity spilling off him at Jayce’s unsteady approach. 

Their connection was interrupted by the sharp rap of knuckles on the office door, resulting in both focusing their attentions elsewhere immediately.

“Enter,” Jayce beckoned.

The door turned on its hinges to reveal one of Jayce’s associates.

“I apologize,” he said immediately. “I did not know you were occupied with company.”

“No, please, join us,” Jayce insisted, against his better judgment. “I’m pleased to introduce you to Mr. Viktor Reveck, my partner.”

“Oh? What is the new venture?”

“No, not business partner. Partner .”

“Oh! How wonderful it is to meet you. I’m called Nicholas Sloane. Jayce has not mentioned one word of you to me. How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Many years,” Viktor said, at the exact moment Jayce replied, “Only recently.”

Viktor’s eyes widened as concern and confusion took shape, the necessity of their planned meeting becoming more apparent with each passing moment.

“Our relationship is recent,” Jayce offered. “But I suppose it feels as if we’ve been partnered much longer, as we’ve been acquainted for so long.”

“Indeed, they have,” a new voice called from the door. From its squeakiness and high timbre, one might initially assume that the voice belonged to a small child, but the gravely drawl layered over it hinted at much more advanced age.

“Professor Heimerdinger!” Viktor exclaimed before Jayce could.

“I am quite pleased to see you here, my boy!” the short Yordle in a well-tailored suit greeted Viktor. 

“Mr. Reveck, you’re acquainted with the Professor?” Nicholas asked.

“At present, he is practically family. He is the master of the estate at which I currently reside.”

“Yes indeed!” the Yordle confirmed. “He was my student at the academy, and I have gladly taken him in.”

“Have you just completed your schooling, then?” Nicholas asked Viktor.

“No. It has been many years since I attended the academy. It’s not been since Mr. Talis also attended.”

“And such began the beginning of a prolific business partnership,” Professor Heimerdinger recalled. 

“I have heard it is no longer simply a partnership in business,” Nicholas revealed.

Heimerdinger’s eyes dashed back and forth between Jayce and Viktor’s blushed faces. The light in them grew with each pass, as did the surprise.

“Is that so?”

Jayce and Viktor engaged in a form of silent communication derived from a language they had both taught each other long ago. An agreement was signed in the twitch of Viktor’s soft brows.

As an act of proof, Jayce took Viktor’s hand and held it with a firmer grip than was likely appropriate. However, the gesture brought him more comfort than he had expected from one of the largest moments of performance they had attempted yet. He was struck with the unexplainable sense that Viktor’s small hand seemed to fit beneath his. Once Nicholas and the Professor’s faces flashed with a significant amount of satisfaction, Jayce freed Viktor’s limb. He did not wish to hinder Viktor’s comfort much more in an already awkward situation.

“I must be off then,” Nicholas announced. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reveck.”

Once Nicholas was gone, Heimerdinger wrapped both Jayce and Viktor in a detailed discussion of a book all three of them had read. At the discussion’s end, the professor finally sighed and looked at the pair of his former students with nostalgia.

“Well,” Mr. Heimerdinger breathed. “I daresay I’m a wee bit disappointed.”

“Pray tell, why?”

“I appreciate your romantic partnership, but my heart was holding out hope for a return to partnership for the two of you. In science and business, I mean. It has always disheartened me to know life pried you apart so.”

Jayce politely nodded, but he could not locate any memory that could explain why they had fallen out. It was a bizarre feeling to have an undeniable benchmark planted in his memory, but no context surrounding it.

Once Professor Heimerdinger said his goodbyes, declaring that Viktor “sees far too much of him already,” Jayce developed a new concept for their interrupted meeting and laid it forth plainly.

“Perhaps our questions should not center what our lives have become in our separation, but what pried our lives apart to begin with. I am embarrassed to admit that I do not comprehend it.”

Viktor’s eyes were tinged with sadness as they peered up into Jayce’s. He was a step closer than would typically be proper, but Jayce couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“The simple truth is that you moved forward, and left me chasing your coattails. I never had the strength to match your stride.”

Viktor’s wound was suddenly obviously apparent, and the knowledge that Jayce’s actions had carved it froze the blood in his body.

“I was a fool not to see it,” Jayce lamented, starting to pace around the room. “How can you stand to still speak to me after such a thing? Why agree to my foolish plan?”

“Unfortunately for me, you are exceedingly charming and well-mannered.”

“I’m sorry. I shall compensate for it every day.”

“Such grand promises are not needed, I assure you.”

“Then perhaps an offer is more in order.”

“An offer?”

“Indeed. When our charade has ceased, and we no longer call ourselves partners, perhaps we could still be partners in business. I would be overjoyed to associate with you again, Viktor.”

His vision settled on Viktor’s eyes as he waited, and he finally believed the often-spread idea that they acted as windows to one’s inner life. Jayce wished to spend his time learning every corner of the vastness of collection and thought that waited beyond those panes.

“You are a good man, Jayce. How could I not agree?”

On his horse ride home, Jayce felt the words penetrate every corner of his mind. It felt so good to know that Viktor still thought of him as a good man, even after his indefensible actions. It seemed Viktor was very forgiving. Jayce had only relieved Viktor of duty following a delighted hour in which he and Viktor aligned the passages of their story and planned their new charade as they’d plan any other business venture.

“Mr. Talis,” a voice called, belonging to a moderately older woman clutching a bouquet of wildflowers. Jayce recognized her as Isabella Connor, a woman who lived very near the Talis estate. “I heard news of your engagement and decided a celebratory gift was in order. Plucked from my own garden.”

“I appreciate that very much, Mrs. Connor, but I’m afraid you are mistaken. There is no engagement. Mr. Reveck and I are simply courting each other.”

“You’re not engaged?”

“‘Fraid not.”

It was somewhat terrifying how far news of his and Viktor’s entanglement had already spread. The rumors were clearly losing track of the true shape and reality of the situation. He was far from understanding why the idea of engagement heated his flesh beyond the nervousness brought upon by the sudden realization of just how serious their situation had become.

“But you do wish to ask him for your hand, do you not?”

“I cannot be sure,” Jayce lied. “I wouldn’t even know what qualities would make a person appropriate for a request of that nature.”

“I can assist you in that area.”

“You can?”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Connor delighted. “Humor my questions. Is he well-read? Does he read novels with a light that excites you, one not just behind his eyes, but behind his words? Does he look at art and see more than just pigment on canvas, delighting your mind to a more beautiful view of the world? Does his face light up with a deeper understanding when he studies the wonders of science, and does yours illuminate in turn when he speaks of it?”

“Yes. Yes. To all inquiries.”

He surprised himself with not only how quickly he answered it, but how deeply he believed it. Viktor provided all of those qualities, if not exceeded them to the point that he made Mrs. Connor’s threshold seem laughable. 

“Then, Mr. Talis, in my experience, that is all you truly need.”

Jayce took the flowers and departed home, eager to rest. Tomorrow was his and Viktor’s dinner with his mother. He would need all the stamina he could muster.

Yet, as the day arrived, and the hour grew near, Jayce felt far from rested. His nerves were uncharacteristic, yet probably expected of anyone lying to their dear mother so blatantly. However, he suspected it partially derived from the fact that, despite all of this being for Jayce’s benefit, he felt an absurd desire to avoid disappointing Viktor.

Jayce waited, sitting in a stiff chair near the door. His leg shivered and trembled in anticipation. He shot at once onto his feet when he discerned the door’s opening tremor.

“Presenting Mr. Reveck,” their servant announced, unveiling a glee-coated Viktor.

“Mrs. Talis,” Viktor greeted with a bow. “How lovely it is to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“Viktor,” Jayce jumped in, catching a scowling look from his mother. “Or rather, Mr. Reveck. Please join us in the dining room.”

“Not yet, Jayce,” Mrs. Talis corrected. “All of the guests have not yet arrived.”

Jayce could not place who this was in reference to, but as if prompted, a servant again entered the room.

“Presenting Mr. Kiramman, Mrs. Kiramman, and Miss Kiramman.”

Caitlyn removed herself from the entryway, her mother and father at her sides. After exchanging bows, Jayce addressed his mother.

“You did not inform me the Kirammans would be joining.”

“Oh, please, Jayce, they are practically family.”

Jayce led them all to the dining room, which Jayce now noticed had settings for six. Jayce sat at one head of the table, and Mr. Kiramman the other. His mother sat beside Caitlyn on one long end, and Viktor sat next to Mrs. Kiramman on the opposing.

“I will say, it was a surprise to us to hear that Jayce was being courted, and by Mr. Reveck of all men,” Mrs. Kiramman explained as servants placed food before them.

“Not to I,” Mrs. Talis said. “Jayce used to ramble on about him during his days at the academy, I suppose I should’ve expected he was interested in more than companionship.”

They conversed as if Jayce and Viktor enjoyed their dinner in another county that night and not at a setting beside them. When they finally did acknowledge either of pair, Mrs. Talis’s attention solely rested on Viktor. Jayce’s mother began her extremely formal interview of sorts, which Jayce had prepared Viktor to correspond with. Enumerated details about his current life and living situation were brought out of Viktor, including his present arrangements with her son. Many of his words were untruths, but Viktor delivered them naturally and comfortably. Jayce regretted making Viktor lie so heavily more than he regretted allowing lies to pass over his mother’s ears.

The Kirammans asked for clarification here and there, but Caitlyn remained silent, having been previously witness to such a display many times. Jayce hoped, however, that she was minding their words as an act of preparation for her inevitable presentation of her new pink-haired wooer to her parents.

Soon his mother’s river of inquiries dried up, and it was the Kirammans’ turn to thread their line of questioning. These, he had not primed either himself or Viktor to respond to, and he’d admit his leg trembled at the thought.

“So, from where did you move, Mr. Reveck? What intentions do you possess here at this situation?” Mr. Kiramman asked directly.

“How long have you been introduced to each other, Mr. Talis?” Mrs. Kiramman asked, as if her question was far more paramount than her husband's. “And why are you not engaged as of yet?  

Viktor parted his lips as if a practiced line were preparing to emerge, but he soon realized he knew not what to say. Viktor looked to Jayce for assistance, the man simply chuckling as a distraction.

“What Viktor means to say is, we met…”

“Yes, and I moved from…”

“And we were introduced...Yes, we met…”

Jayce and Viktor reach for explanations and answers, but come back empty-handed.

“Well? Moved from where? Why? Met when?”

“Patience, Mrs. Kiramman,” Jayce’s mother scolded. “They are laying their story’s foundations. Let them recount it.”

Jayce and Viktor offered polite smiles, but it provided no substantial distraction from the current awkwardness. Jayce again attempted to actualize a response.

“Our story…”

“What exactly is your story?!” Mr. Kiramman demanded.

Mrs. Talis appeared unsettled. Jayce suspected she now wished to advance from the topic at hand.

“Leave the poor couple alone!” Caitlyn insisted.

“It’s a simple enough question—what is your tale? What goals are laid out for your future here? What is this situation of yours?”

Jayce had no answer. Viktor had no answer. The true power in the room at that moment was silence, and the Kiramman couple, especially Tobias, were trembling with lividity. He slammed his clenched fists against the table as his tirade expanded.

“Dammit! I say, what is—”

It is then that Cassandra Kiramman starts choking. It feels intentional at first, like she is just trying to interrupt her husband. But some of her limbs are shaking. And her husband is as still as a marble statue, staring at nothing. It cannot be on purpose.

“Oh, mother!” Caitlyn cries, grinning. “Stop it!” 

But she doesn’t stop. 

“Oh, stop it, mother! Oh, stop it…”

Jayce and Viktor watch in horror as Cassandra lurches up out of her chair, clutching her throat, and falls behind the table. Jayce feels like he is glued to his seat, helpless, and when he looks to Viktor, he knows he feels the same. 

“Stop it!”

Jayce’s mother keeps eating, Tobias remains still, and Caitlyn does not stand as Cassandra struggles for her life. Caitlyn sighs and shakes her head, as if embarrassed, her smile never wavering as she speaks, but her words sound wrong.

“Stop it ! Stop it.”

Ximena Talis shovels food in her mouth as Cassandra gasps for air on the floor beneath her. Caitlyn's words don’t stop, and instead become maniacal. 

“Stop it, stop it, stop it....”

She makes eye contact with Jayce, her eyes desperate and pleading. Terror takes hold of Jayce as Caitlyn rambles on. He looks at Viktor, who is staring down at Cassandra to his side.

Jayce finds the words.  

“Viktor—” 

The name draws Viktor’s attention to him, his golden eyes waiting for more.  

“Help her,” Jayce orders. 

Viktor doesn’t hesitate to spring into action, standing immediately and stumbling over to Cassandra Kiramman before dropping to the hard floor. He places his hands in front of his body and gestures toward Cassandra’s mouth, telekinetically pulling the offending item up her throat and out of her mouth. Jayce stares as Viktor props her up so that her torso is upright, holding her as she comes back to herself. Viktor stands and offers his hand, which Cassandra takes as she stands and started to rein in her unsteady breaths so that they might be more comfortably controlled in this condition.

Soft, warm, smiles returned to the tight lips of everyone settled in a dining chair, their food on the china before them hardly so much as mussed, certainly not consumed.

“Steady on there, ma’am,” Viktor encouraged as his small and sturdy hand steered Mrs. Kiramman in her seat’s direction. However, the woman resisted being seated once again.

“My, goodness, look at the time!” Mrs. Kirmman said.

“Yes, we had better be on our way!” Mr. Kiramman chimed in. “Come along, Caitlyn.” 

 “Are you all alright?” Jayce asked, but bright smiles were plastered on all of their faces.

“We had such a lovely time, Mrs. Talis,” Caitlyn insisted. “We must do it again sometime.”

“Thank you for joining us!” Mrs. Talis yelled after them as they hurried along. Her head then turned to Viktor. “And thank you for joining us as well, Mr. Reveck. Did you find dinner agreeable?”

“Indeed, I did. And you have such a lovely home.”

Viktor stood and bowed to Mrs. Talis, before Jayce rose from his seat to join him. 

“Let me show you out.”

“Of course.”

Jayce strode across the room and through the house, desperate to swivel his head back in Viktor’s direction, but only allowing himself to hear the soft, uneven steps of Viktor following him. 

“Farewell, Jayce. I shall see you soon.”

The pair exchanged slow bows, and Viktor made his exit.

Jayce returned to the meat of the house and found his mother in the sitting room by the fireplace. His mother was silent for far too long, seeming much calmer regarding the night’s events than Jayce.

“Have you been attending church frequently?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“That surprises me. The gods have given you an unparalleled gift in Mr. Reveck. You are a very lucky man.”

Jayce’s heart fluttered and a sigh escaped his mouth as he watched her walk away. She approved of him. Of his Viktor. At last her prodding and matchmaking would cease. 

But it could not endure. It would not endure. His mother could envision a life for Jayce at Viktor’s side, but at one point or another he it would be necessary to reveal the truth.

The next ball requiring Jayce’s attendance arrived far quicker than he had expected, largely due to a busy schedule and a newfound obsession with writing to Viktor. Jayce could not explain why he spent ink on discussions likely more suited to a diary than a correspondence with a business partner, but was delighted to receive Viktor’s words. It only compounded Jayce’s anticipation of seeing Viktor again at this new ball thrown by a Mr. Dmitri, a man known to him.

He immediately scoured the ballroom for that familiar slim figure, eventually catching a glimpse of that swoop of brown hair behind the wall of well-dressed bodies. There stood Viktor, donned in the most handsome and well-fitting gray suit Jayce had ever seen, but his heart dropped when he noticed that Viktor was engaged in conversation with Mr. Dmitri.

The longer he inconspicuously observed, the more undeniable the situation became. The close profile in which they stood. Mr. Dmitri’s smile at every word Viktor said, his coy humor in response to every line. Mr. Dmitri seemed to take every chance he could to touch Viktor slightly. Grasping his shoulder, patting his face, brushing his hand. The sight made Jayce ill, and his body responded independently.

“Mr. Dmitri, it’s been a long while since our last meeting, has it not?” Jayce asked as he physically put himself between the bothersome man and Viktor. He did not wait to hear an answer. “I see you’ve found my partner, Mr. Reveck.”

“Your partner?”

“Yes,” Jayce said, settling his hand on that well-fitting spot on Viktor’s back. “We are courting each other.”

“Is that true?” Mr. Dmitri requested of Viktor. The thin man simply nodded.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Dimitri,” Jayce added in a manner that informed him he, in actuality, had no say in the matter, “I would like to steal Viktor away for a dance.”

Jayce provided no time for deliberation or enquiry before sweeping Viktor away from the flimsy grasp of Mr. Dmitri’s gloved hands toward the whirling heart of the ballroom.

“Jayce, what is the—” Viktor cried, shushed by the swell of music as they neared the merry dancers.

Jayce’s mind centered only on entering the thrall of the dancing, certainly not on his irregular and unexplainable actions, nor the crawling fury that had heralded them, nor the green monster of jealousy set free by Dmitri’s hand on Viktor’s form, nor the haughty valiance that had possessed him with the spirit of a knightly savior, nor the current thrum of his heart out of time with the music from Viktor’s gentle and uncompromising touch, nor the impending realization that all of it drew only one conclusion.

This ball was centered around a much slower dance, not divided into lines as the Kiramman dancing had been, instead, partners revolved around each other and took no hesitation to touch the other while orbiting an invisible centerpiece. Despite Jayce having led them to the floor, Viktor was the one who shouldered the duty to lead their dance, guiding Jayce and providing a clarity to his movements he never would have hoped to achieve otherwise. It took him much too long to finally take stock of Viktor’s hand clasped against his side and his other hand clasped around his own, and he was struck with a bout of dizziness at the awareness of it, but he fought to keep his composure around Viktor.

Jayce found the dance easiest when he emptied his busy mind and maintained his attention on the gold of Viktor’s eyes, allowing his feet to feel as if they moved with their own mind. His eyes wandered as other eyes found their way to them, but he soon learned to cease his examinations of others, helped by the soft squeeze of Viktor’s hand that brought their eyes into alignment each time.

Their insularity and intimate comfort limited his senses to the boundaries of their own steps and prevented him from taking notice of the moment when their song ceased. Confusion spiraled through him when Viktor brought their dance to its conclusion, before being quickly met by comfort and understanding as Viktor took his other hand.

Jayce was a man of science, and such men were expected to humor their compulsions to test various hypotheses that tormented them from all parts of their lives. Viktor would understand if Jayce were to perform an experiment to test the imperative current theory hammering against his skull.

Without explanation, Jayce led Viktor away to the estate’s gardens, feeling that familiar thrill and comfort that breathing the night air imbued him with. He took no care to look back at Viktor as they walked, as he trusted the man sufficiently so that his hand in his was enough. Among tall hedges and billowing piles of flowers, Jayce discovered a small white bench that he set them both down upon.

“Viktor,” Jayce breathed, savoring the taste of the name. “I am being tormented by a question, one of my own making, one which the events of this night have prohibited me from ignoring.”

“Jayce,” Viktor responded, empathy in every letter. “I’m on the verge of being frightened. This manner of yours is unlike you. You must not let this query torture you to insanity. I am here to help you answer it, as I will always be.”

“I am frightened. I am a scientist. I should not be frightened by what is not known to me. And yet, when I am with you, the unknown brought by your very presence terrifies me more than any fear I’ve ever felt.”

Jayce lifted his palm and delicately slotted it against Viktor’s cheek, the cool touch of the skin wracking him with a slight tremble.

“I have always known you to be a brave man, Jayce Talis. Conquer your fear. Ask your question. Be brave.”

Jayce never denied Viktor’s orders.

He slowly leaned in, and Viktor’s body remained still, not even trembling, until Jayce pressed his lips to his. Then all at once, Viktor held Jayce’s head and kissed him with a tenderness that no man would mistake as anything other than ardent fondness. When Jayce allowed himself to understand the response of his body and discovered he was reciprocating the kiss with a tenderness to rival Viktor’s own, he realized in a single moment that he had retrieved his answer.

He loved Viktor.

And in that moment, he could not imagine that the thought had ever been untrue. He could not accept the idea that any of the feeling burning in him at that moment had ever been successfully buried by pretense. He could not believe he had lived so much of his life without intrinsic knowledge of the feeling of Viktor’s lips on his, and now that he knew it, his life divided into the time before Viktor’s kiss and the time after it. Time halts as the pair enter a cycle of crashing their lips into each other and separating, the latter done with the simple intention to lay eyes on the other again.

“Have I ever told you how enamored I am of that mark above your lip?”

“No,” Viktor gasped.

Jayce laughed, the sound transforming into a desperate moan.

“How could I have? I hardly knew myself. I had buried it in scientific fascination, but it wasn’t that. None of the details I have catalogued about you were merely fascination.”

Jayce’s hands traced the curves and divots of Viktor’s form and figure, settling at his waist, thin enough to allow Jayce’s wide hands to encapsulate it entirely.

“But yet there is so much I have not laid eyes on, so much to become enamored of.”

“Now,” Viktor growled.

“What?”

“Undress me. See it all now, in the moonlight, as you take me for your own.”

“Are you quite sure?” Jayce asked, but the idea had already buried itself in his mind, torturing him with visions of his lips on the rest of Viktor’s body. “You desire it here, in the gardens?”

“I find it rather appropriate to be deflowered among the flowers.”

Jayce muffled a gasp.

“Then who am I to deprive you of it?”

Jayce’s hands raced to the buttons of Viktor’s coat faster than his eyes could witness, the flattering tightness that had undid him so now a torture as he slowly peeled it off. Searching for assurance, his eyes wander up to Viktor’s, with the man only giving a frustrated nod of endorsement. He pressed himself forward into Jayce’s neck, kissing at the skin there as Jayce utilized the closer distance to hasten his undressing of Viktor.

“Please,” Jayce whines, but Viktor has already given his permission. His hand shook as he undid all of the mocking buttons. “Please, please.”

Viktor is removing Jayce of his trousers and pants with a wandering hand before Jayce can even realize, and when Viktor is finally shed of the cruel barrier, Jayce is exposed too. He expands the distance between him and Viktor with an easy wrestle, not to stop him, but to see him in the starlight. Just the sight of his smooth skin, lithe limbs, and the constellations of moles across them was nearly enough to send Jayce over the edge. But that night he was far more concerned with Viktor’s pleasure than his own, promising himself he would make a cherished memory of their first time.

He kissed down Viktor’s neck as Viktor arched against him. Jayce savored the whimpering and gasps released when he took one of his nipples into his mouth. Viktor was straddling him now, clearly hungry and desperate, a state only enhanced when Jayce’s fingers wandered low and worked Viktor open with a harmony of whines.

When he got the chance, Jayce hoisted him up, requiring little strength as he held him in his arms. He carried his Viktor to the short end of the bench and laid his back along its length, his hair spread wide and mermaid-like, as if floating in a brook. Jayce was arrested by the beauty of the sight laid out before him, left unable to do anything but stare as Viktor begged for him with soft whines.

Jayce was the first person to see Viktor like this. And if his will meant anything to the vast universe, he would be the only one. Not Dmitri, nor anyone else would have him the way Jayce had him. No soul would see those golden eyes the way Jayce saw them.

“My mother said you were a gift from the gods, but she was mistaken.”

Jayce surged forward and ravaged Viktor’s lips again with his own, only pulling away to whisper in his ear.

“I know now that you are among their pantheon.”

Jayce lifted Viktor’s legs and sturdily held himself against Viktor’s entrance.

“You have deprived me too long already,” Viktor growled. “I cannot wait any longer.”

“You are aware that this will hurt.”

“I care not. Hurt from your body is no hurt at all.”

Jayce entered him slowly, carefully, studying Viktor’s body to take account of his reactions. When it seemed that Viktor was finally used to the feeling of him, when his eyes fluttered with pleasure instead of fear, Jayce lost all of his control, moving within him at an ever-quicker pace as Viktor squirmed and moaned, nothing to grasp hold of save for Jayce’s large body over his. 

A scientist at heart, Jayce could not stop analyzing what movements brought out the most pleasurable reactions in Viktor and wielded them against him, stabbing him with a dagger of pleasure over and over until tears streamed from his eyes and he could only mutter Jayce’s name. Jayce’s pace barreled even faster as Viktor careened toward completion, and as Viktor’s body grew stiff under him, the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“I love you.”

Viktor screamed as he thrashed against him, holding his body against Jayce with meager rocking as the waves of pleasure rocketing through Viktor’s body subsequently brought Jayce to completion as well. His body seized up as he finished inside him, until he collapsed and both of them went tumbling onto the grass. They trembled as their lips found each other once again, clinging to each other for many gasping minutes until Viktor pulled back and locked his golden eyes on Jayce’s with a laugh.

“Jayce, how shall we return to the ballroom in such a state?”

“We won’t return. Accompany me to my carriage and I shall show you to my estate. You can sleep in my bed, and be lured into Dream’s realm in my embrace.”

“I would like that very much.”

Not returning would certainly alert the guests to their actions, but Jayce cared not. Most already possessed the knowledge that the two of them were coupled, if Mrs. Connor’s words were substantiated. And Jayce was quite delighted with the idea of Dmitri knowing that Viktor was in Jayce’s care, and only his.

Jayce called forth his carriage and driver before leading Viktor within. His coachman set them on the path home, and Jayce and Viktor clasped each other’s hands in their newfound privacy. 

After a handful of minutes on their journey had been performed silently, Jayce’s body moved with no forewarning to his mind, and rested his head on Viktor’s shoulder, prompting the other man to pile his mass back onto Jayce. The carriage rolled on, and Viktor’s spinster’s hands caressed Jayce’s body, a sensation so perfectly scorching that it barred him from sleep.

Everything that had not been solved by the titillation and sentiment released during his and Viktor’s confluence was solved by Jayce’s sound mind in that carriage. The facets of their connection that Jayce had neglected to consider were considered deeply, and the true shape of it all that had been buried by friendship, business, and their false courtship rose to the surface.

When the carriage came to a rest at the Talis estate, Jayce took the personal pleasure of helping Viktor off the vehicle. The dark night was luminous in Viktor’s presence, but Jayce charged ahead in the direction of the grand entryway, intending to open it for Viktor.

“Jayce,” Viktor asked, his voice hampered. He released his words with such an immediacy that Jayce suspected Viktor did not believe it right to enter his home with them unsaid. “Did you speak those three words when we…at the end…intentionally? Was there truth to them?”

Jayce’s body swung around to face Viktor, taking keen notice of the empty air Viktor had stretched between them.

“Oh, my dear Viktor, I apologize,” Jayce replied, and Viktor’s head lowered in disappointed resignation. “I should have spoken stronger words. Three words were not nearly sufficient. I shall gladly recommit them.”

Viktor’s head lifted in an abrupt lurch. Jayce did not halt his words, and spoke each with a grand and undeniable intention.

“You have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul. Somehow, you have distorted what should have been fiction into reality using only your words and touch. But I allowed the falsities to ensnare me and reshape me, as in the buried chambers of my heart, a secret even to my own mind, I wanted it, yearned for it, so ardently that no feeling I have or ever will have could surpass it. You have made me a jealous man. A nervous man. A lusting man. And perhaps one less intelligent than I would resist or rebuke such transformations, but not I. I see the gifts that they are. I see the gift that you are, and I am deeply ashamed that I did not truly know it until now. I mourn the years I spent tormented by yet ignorant to the feelings that a man as studied as I should have as recognized as undying adoration. With my ignorance forsaken, I am a reborn man, a man of freedom entranced by a felicity he knows not how to wield.

“So the answer to your question, dearest Viktor, is yes, I love you. And I carry no intentions to cease loving you.”

A droplet waited in Viktor’s luminescent eyes as his lips pressed into a determined smile.

“Then, my dear Jayce, I love you too.”

Viktor threaded his fingers into the fitting sheath of Jayce’s and the pair walked to their bedchamber hand in hand.

My dearest Jayce,

I recognize that we agreed for these writings to be reports and nothing more, but I would be remiss not to tell you that I have been longing for your touch. The absence of you stings each morning I wake. The Kiramman estate is nice and well-tended. They have been very hospitable. But no bed or bath can soothe the ache to be in your arms.

Do not mistake me, I understand why you needed to stay behind to handle the legalities of our other cases. You need not explain it to me again. But I wish to be open with you. 

And yes, my loneliness has not been the only thing that has defined this stay. As always, I have been committed to the task you assigned me and thus have been committed to snooping. This is a strange case indeed, one that speaks to foul play, but the neighbors I’ve scoped out as you’ve instructed and the fellows at the Kiramman estate I’ve befriended are surprisingly normal. Surprisingly, I note, but not excessively.

The first neighbor I met was a fellow called Mr. Havert Rowland. He approached me as I walked and was wonderfully welcoming. He appears to be a widower and live alone, but he does not seem unhappy, and other neighbors say they always find company in him. Mr. Rowland admitted that he had been hearing strange sounds at dusk and night that spooked him greatly, and that many of them sounded comparable to a hound’s howl. He rattled off a wide berth of alternate theories, from a stray dog to werewolves. Mr. Rowland says he is a former businessman in the south of our city, a profession which would seem to suggest a practical man. It certainly makes his notable fear of the mythical beast all the more interesting.

The next was a woman we both know. Mel Medarda is in the county for the wedding, and is staying in her family’s oft-abandoned manor nearby. I noticed immediately that there was a nervousness to her and eventually eked the reason for it out of her. She’d stayed in the city centre before coming here. And yes, I told her that if we’d known, we would have met her, or she could have ridden the train back with Violet. Her not arriving here until after Cassandra’s death would likely absolve her of suspicion, but the fact that she did not come to visit us in any sense brings me doubt. 

According to Ms. Medarda, while staying at her central hotel, she received a letter written in words cut out from a newspaper and pasted into a letter. It read: “As you value your life or your reason keep away from the wedding.” Only the word wedding was written in ink, in a bizarre scribbled hand. I had our friend Nicholas track down the edition of the newspaper the clippings originated from and quickly found what words had been cut out: they were from an article about the legacy of Zaunian science and an article about an overnight spike in pet deaths. I did not find anything relevant or of note in those articles.

Outwardly, the neighbors all seem friendly, but I can discern that the perceived murder by a vengeful demon has instilled fear in all of them. I would not be surprised if they all believe the supernatural theories to be true. I know at least an elderly neighbor called Mr. Brighton believes the tale. Frankly, that was the most I gathered from our brief conversation. The old Mr. Brighton is hard to talk to, not because he’s unfriendly, but because it doesn’t seem as though he has much to say. I did glean from the various telescopes and spying equipment dotting his home that he, at least at some point, was a hunter.

Now we return to the matters at the estate itself. I’ve scoped out the murder site and found nothing of interest, it certainly all swept away by time. The wedding and the subsequent ball are proceeding, as I’m sure you already know. Most are excited, except for Tobias, who seems indifferent to it all and consumed by grief. From our brief dismissive conversations, I would say he seems very disillusioned with the idea of Caitlyn and Vi’s marriage. If he is truly not supportive of their union, Lady Cassandra was likely not either. If this is the case, it would certainly give the engaged pair motive. I hope that is not the case.

I look forward to the wedding ball, and not only because you will be joining me. The event will bring other potential suspects more immediately into the Kirammans’ orbit, which should make them easier to interrogate. I am glad I will have your assistance.

Ever yours,

August 30th.

Kiramman Hall.

Dearest reader,

I awoke this morning at last with Jayce Talis at my side. I will never tire of the grasp of his strong arms around me, and I will never feel truly safe without feeling it. It was not long before I took him under me, and while pleasing myself added more to the patchwork of blemishes I made the night before, leaving my mark on him. With Jayce, I am now far more possessive than I ever expected myself to be. Perhaps this is why the thought of marriage refused to leave my mind, certainly not helped by the sight of Jayce still wearing that ring he had donned as a falsity.

Unfortunately, the rest of our morning would see us split from each other. Jayce traveled to the home of old Mr. Brighton, suspecting that a man with so many telescopes and spyglasses might have seen something of the beast. As I had relayed he was a quiet man, Jayce wondered if the old man simply did not wish to speak on it. Meanwhile, after Mrs. and Mrs. Kiramman left around noon on their honeymoon, I could more freely search the house for clues. There was still Tobias to dodge, though he held up in his bedchamber most days, and the limited servants to avoid, but I had decided not to waste the opportunity.

After coming through Mrs. Kiramman’s office, with its many cabinets, Miss Caitlyn’s office and bedchamber, and the sitting rooms, I had started to suspect my search was in vain. However, once I was certain Tobias would not be emerging from his chambers, I let myself into his study, which was much busier with letters, books, and the like. But what caught my eye was a tiny yellow dot in the study’s fireplace. When I removed it from the side of the cold hearth, I discovered the scrap to be a corner of a letter, the rest of which had clearly been burned. All that could be read on what remained was ‘Dear Lady Kiramman.’

I at once realized the scale of this discovery. From the color of the paper, the letter was certainly written by the same person who had written letters to Ms. Medarda and Mrs. Connor. It was also curious that it had been addressed to Lady Cassandra, but was burned by Tobias. I collected the paper and spent the rest of my day finishing my search, waiting to be joined by either Tobias or Jayce. I found nothing else remotely interesting, and was surprised to be joined first by Ms. Medarda, who Caitlyn and Vi had asked to join us for dinner to keep us company while they were away. She had decided to come early, and the two of us had a delightful conversation about her happenings since her arrival while having a smoke.

Jayce soon arrived, that endearing yet frenzied, excited look donned on his face. 

“They sure lock homes here, don’t they?” he had said. “The servants kept this estate locked, and old Mr. Brighton’s was sealed tight too.”

“I suppose that is to be expected when stories of demon beasts are running rampant.”

“Ms. Medarda,” Jayce greeted. “Lovely to see you. Might I steal Viktor for a moment?”

Jayce pulled me out of earshot to speak.

“My outing has been only moderately successful, my love, how went yours?”

“Productive, I’d think. But likely not much more so than yours.”

I relayed my findings, and we both agreed to confront Tobias when he came out for dinner. Jayce had learned from old Mr. Brighton that the old man had seen the beast every night, and noted that it was always running in the direction of the Kiramman estate.

“It is certainly targeting the Kirammans,” Jayce decided.

“Then perhaps it is our mythical hellhound.”

“Perhaps. Let us see what this dinner holds.”

It primarily held a reaquainting between Mel and Jayce, both discussing how lovely the wedding ball was, and Jayce trying and failing to unearth the reason for her move. I suspect she simply did not want her large and glorious family home to be left abandoned. Tobias was silent the entire dinner, clearly only there for the food.

When it was done, I went to accompany Ms. Medarda out while Jayce kept Tobias occupied at the dinner table.

“The company was very appreciated,” said I. “Thank you for coming.”

I opened the door with a bow, and she responded with a curtsey and a shiver.

“It’s quite cold out, isn’t it?” Mel noted.

I at once turned to the coat hook and found one that would surely fit her.

“Vi left it behind again,” I chuckled. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you borrowing it.”

“Thank you, Viktor. Hopefully we see each other again before you return to the city!”

“Yes, of course. Good-bye, Ms. Medarda.”

When I returned to the dinner table, I produced the slip of yellow paper and placed it in front of Tobias. He did not respond, but Jayce spoke up.

“Would you mind telling us what this letter is, and why you burned it?”

There was a silence.

“We are giving you a chance to clear yourself of suspicion,” Jayce continued, which finally seemed to get his attention.

“I thought she was having an affair. She was sneaking around, having all these meetings. I finally intercepted this letter, which wished for her to cancel her rendezvous. It thought it confirmed these secret meetings, and therefore the affair, was real. So I burned it, hoping she’d attend her little meeting and think herself stood up.”

“She was not engaged in an affair,” Jayce revealed. “She was helping Mrs. Connor initiate her divorce. That was not something Mrs. Connor wanted her to advertise too much, especially not to someone friends with Mrs. Connor’s husband, as I suspect you are, Tobias.”

Tobias gave us a silent acknowledgment.

“This was no true murder. Someone knew the path of the beast would lead toward the Kiramman estate, toward where Lady Cassandra and Isabella Connor were meant to meet. They were warning her off the path of the beast.”

Tobias’s face fell as he realized that he had inadvertently been responsible for his wife’s death.

“Who wrote that letter, Mr. Kiramman?”

“It was addressed as Mrs. Connor, our neighbor. But it was not her hand. I knew that. It reminded me of Mr. Rowland’s hand, however, and I recalled him once writing me a letter with a similar stationery.”

“So you were certain it was Mr. Rowland?”

“I was and am certain.”

We at once dismissed ourselves and headed off to our own devices.

“We must speak to Mr. Rowland tomorrow,” said I.

“I’m not sure that will be necessary.”

“Why not?”

“We know the beast is tracking a scent, but I questioned what scent our beast would be following, and I suspect I’ve uncovered it. Old Mr. Brighton’s timeline of the beast’s arrival, and something speaking of the letters reminded me of, might confirm it. The hound did not arrive until Vi Kiramman moved into the estate. In addition, Ms. Medarda’s letter was carved from a newspaper printed shortly after Vi visited us in the city centre, with a story about a sudden overnight swath of pet deaths that previous night.”

“It followed Vi to the city centre and ate the city’s pets to sustain itself while there.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“It’s following Vi. But why?”

Jayce finally finds what he’s looking for, the newspaper with the articles about Zaun science and the pet deaths.

“Read the memoriam, at the end of the article regarding Zaun science, the list of people believed dead in connection to it.”

I did not follow his logic, but I did as he asked. I cannot recall the names now, but at one of them, Jayce stopped me.

“Say that last one again.”

“The local business-owner Vander.”

Jayce’s face lit up. “Viktor, do you know Vi Kiramman’s maiden name?”

“It was on the wedding invites. Vanderson, I believe?”

“Yes. But that is a manufactured surname, referencing her father. His name must have been Vander.”

“Interesting indeed, but I’m still not sure I follow.”

“According to this list, Vander went missing in Zaun, believed dead, very near the people or places where this science was conducted. What if he didn’t die? What if he was transformed into this beast, and drawn to this place by Vi’s scent? It would’ve been drawn to the estate the night of Lady Kiramman’s death because Vi was there. And it need not have attacked Lady Kiramman. She had a heart condition and a familial inherited fear of ‘The Hound of the Kirammans.’ The sight of the beast alone might have given her enough fright to stop her heart.”

I was frozen with shock, only eventually reanimated by a dreadful, horrifying realization.

“Jayce,” I gasped. “I sent Ms. Medarda off into the night wearing Vi’s jacket. She’s wearing Vi’s smell.”

I have never seen such seriousness in Jayce’s eyes.

“We must go. Now.”

We departed immediately on horseback, my body finding relief against Jayce’s back and my arms clutching his waist as Jayce brought the horse into a full gallop, in the direction of the Medarda home, tracking her path.

“Hold tight, my love,” said he, and I obliged. We had no true plan for stopping the beast if we found it, but strapped to Jayce’s side was a forearm-length battle hammer he had hurriedly ripped from the Kiramman estate’s walls, and strapped to mine was my pistol.

We eventually spotted the carriage in the bitter dark. At first it appeared alone, but then glowing green eyes illuminated out of thin air as a living shadow of a beast emerged from the darkness. Fire shone in its face and magma ran through its veins, a creature of misshapen metal and bone on fire as if having just crawled from the fire of hell itself. I could not help but wonder if Jayce was wrong and the Hound of the Kirammans was indeed here.

I had no time to waste to find out.

I fired my pistol at the beast, the bullets bouncing off its burning skin as if I had just fired at stone. The beast roared and the sound made Mel’s driver immediately stop the carriage, which was frankly the opposite of what he should have done at that moment. Jayce and I leapt from the horse, working in tandem to distract the beast with our presence. Our distraction worked. The beast ran at Jayce as Mel opened the carriage's door, worrying for the safety of both. Jayce was too close to the man-wolf for me to fire my pistol again. But I should have known not to doubt my partner.

“It’s following the jacket!” I screamed to Mel as Jayce dodged the beasts’s slashes. “Leave it!”

She removed it and dumped it without a word, but still remained frozen.

“Run, Mel, run!” Jayce yelled, and ran she did, her coachman darting off into the darkness with her. 

As Jayce kept himself just out of the beast’s grasp with his scrambling and kicking, I still found myself in a position where I would be unable to ensure Jayce’s safety if I fired at the monster again. With horror, I watched as the beast lunged forward with a bite that would surely latch onto Jayce’s leg.

“Vander!” I yelled. The beast stilled and pulled away from its bite. It turned to me and stared, and I swear I saw something human in those green eyes. But the human could not keep control for long, and the cruel anger of the beast at last resurfaced. I dashed off, but I had never been a very good runner. I did my best to fire at it to keep it back, but those limbs of tar and fire moved at a pace I could not dare to meet.

And then Jayce shouted. A name. I had not heard it well over the sound of the roaring and my own heartbeat, though I knew he had not said “Vander.” Whatever it was, it drew the monster to Jayce just like the name Vander had drawn it to me, and I again feared for his life.

Luckily, my Jayce had always proven to be a capable man, and after some desperate wrestling, he reached the handle of his hammer and slammed the head of the weapon into the beast’s skull with a strength impossible for any human to muster, knocking it out, cold.

“What happened?” said I through an exhausted cough as I tepidly walked toward the fallen beast’s side. “What name did you say?”

Jayce held his arm out to the beast as he flipped it onto its back with his leg.

“Viktor, I present to you Mr. Havert Rowland.”

“Was that the name you called?”

“Yes.”

“Then it must be him…but how can this be?”

“Mr. Rowland knew to warn Lady Kiramman, Mrs. Connor, and Ms. Medarda with those letters and knew that the beast was going to go on a rampage because he was the beast. He knew what he was and lived alone in his large, empty home to isolate himself. But he was not in control. I suspect he could not prevent himself from being compelled by the scent of Vi every night when he transformed. It was a biological protective instinct drawing him to her.”

“How did you know this?”

“Well, besides the obvious realization that whoever wrote the letters must have been deeply involved with the beast, if not the beast itself, I remembered something from your report, which I committed to memory. Mr. Rowland so far forgot himself as to tell you a true piece of autobiography upon the occasion when he first met you: he was once a businessman in the south of the city. The south of the city holds the Zaun neighborhoods, and the article in the paper called Vander a ‘beloved business-owner.’”

“Was that all?”

“Also in your report, you said Mr. Rowland seemed scared, and offered up theories on the beasts, including the myth of werewolves. He was trying to warn you.”

“How long have you known who it was?”

“I was not completely sure until he responded to the name.”

I laughed. A hearty laugh of relief and adrenaline that led me to wrap myself up around Jayce. I was deeply happy with our teamwork, as I am now. I knew that we were meant to be partners. I knew that we could solve anything together. And I believe Jayce knew it, too.

“Should we chase after Ms. Medarda?” I finally asked.

But it was not to be. All at once, the creature awoke with a start, its eyes turning from green to red. It dashed away, now completely ignoring the scent of Vi’s jacket, as if something else were compelling him. Jayce and I leapt onto our horse and followed immediately into the far reaches of this neighborhood, but even the stallion’s strong legs were no match for the beast’s. We were only so lucky as to catch up to the creature due to the sudden stop it made at a hidden corner with many grates in the road and a gap leading down below the city.

I could see the curiosity spark in my partner’s mind. Jayce dismounted and reached for one of the nearby grates. When opened, it revealed a large chasm into a glittery, unfocused sight that one could’ve sworn was an entire other city underneath this one. But such an idea was preposterous.

Jayce and I watched in silent shock as the creature growled and pawed at the gap, as if some invisible force were stopping him from crossing the threshold into the undercity, toward whatever scent was calling him through the mist. I then noticed a shadow growing firmer in one of the grates, a figure that lifted it open. From below stepped up a pale figure draped in a veil or shroud, who simply stared at us until

In Jayce Talis’s younger and more vulnerable years, when his father was still alive, Jayce received some advice that he’d spend a much later morning turning over in his head.

“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” Jayce’s father had told him, “or criticizing your circumstances, remember that all the people not just in this country, but in this world, haven’t had the advantages you’ve had.”

On that morning, the day before his wedding, he could count the abundance of advantages he had on all ten fingers and all ten toes, and still not complete the list. Perhaps this was the reason his father’s words rang true, for once he said his wedding vows, he suspected he would perfect his life. Not many could share the sentiment. 

It was also likely that the memory of his father was so pervasive that morning because he had hardly remembered he’d had a father until the memory of those words had slipped through. His memory had been strange as of late, but he was not frightened. Every time he remembered how little he remembered, he found himself caring less and less about it. After all, Viktor’s memory issues were also abundant. He also could hardly remember long-past details, but Viktor also frequently repeated phrases and sentences he had very recently spoken as if he had never said them before.

It must be normal.

And strange things weren’t uncommon in this city. In a day not long past, Jayce spotted their next-door neighbor, Shiela, cutting her hedges and then continuing to cut the empty air in a rhythm long after the hedge line had ended, not stopping until she reached the road. But Jayce wasn’t taking note of such things, of course.

His wandering mind was eclipsed when he joined Viktor for lunch on the mansion’s terrace, a beautiful view of the river Pilt lay out before them. They spoke of the antics of the wedding preparations, and they joked, as every couple did, that they would run off and do the whole affair all alone. Every day, their talks, their meals, their nights, their lives, were closer to becoming forever. This was the perfect dream that Jayce had hardly known or imagined, yet now would never choose a life without.

They swam together in the pool soon after, in water of an ideal warmth that calmed both their senses. They floated together in each other’s arms and kissed as they bounced around. After spinning and frolicking until they tired, they rested their bodies and eyes while the water wrinkled their fingertips.

“It’s getting late,” Jayce realized all at once after spotting the sun. “We won’t have the time to get ready before the party.”

Viktor gave the tiniest little groan before relenting, floating over toward the steps.

Caitlyn and Vi had insisted on throwing a stag party for them and had, of course, volunteered Jayce and Viktor’s house for the venue. It wouldn’t be a proper stag party, considering both husbands-to-be would be in attendance, but considering the Kirammans would not have the opportunity to pay for a honeymoon instead, Jayce and Viktor accepted their gift.

They had wanted to have a honeymoon, but when they spoke to their friends and neighbors about suggestions and ideas, they were hit with “there’s no need to leave,” “I’d suggest you just stay here,” “you know how hard cities like this truly are to escape,” and  “you have everything you need all around you.” It was a unanimous chorus, and they had relented to the pressure.

They dried each other off without much care, rustling striped towels in the other’s hair and over their bodies. They dried hurriedly as they heard the sound of the caterers and staff welcoming people in. Viktor wore a sleek royal blue pinstripe suit, while Jayce donned an unpatterned pink suit that was perhaps blindingly bright. When Viktor saw it, he tilted his head with slight confusion and doubt. It was garish, yes, but he could tell Viktor found it undeniably fun, even if he did not wish to admit it. 

“I hope you’re wearing something more subtle for the wedding,” Viktor joked.

“I hope you’re not.”

Neither had seen what they’d be wearing on the actual day, and neither would until they met at the altar.

They chose matching bow ties and both slicked the front of their hair back, as they had little time to try any other style. They walked out into the parlor arm in arm, immediately finding themselves wrapped in crushing hugs by Caitlyn and Vi. Once released, they wandered around to greet the guests, comprised of most of the wedding party and all of their friends, including Mel Medarda.

The differences between this event and the ball where he and Viktor had danced and confessed their interest struck him all at once. It was even much more modern than any party Vi and Caitlyn had thrown for their wedding, including the one Jayce attended. How quickly times change in these parts!

After greeting the guests, Jayce and Viktor had no more interest in “making the rounds,” deciding instead to dance together, watch the performers, play games, and of course, sit around and drink in smoke. Eventually, Jayce sat beside Viktor on a plush seat in their parlor, talking lazily with Caitlyn, Vi, and Mel who were sitting across from them and were much more drunk.

“This all reminds me of those parties you used to throw, Jayce” Viktor realized. “I can’t believe I didn’t make that connection until now.”

Jayce could feel the blush creeping over his cheeks.

“Wait, what parties?” Mel asked.

Viktor smirked, somewhat proudly. “How ironic it is that you ask that Ms. Medarda.”

“Wait, what is the story with Jayce’s parties?” Vi asked, quite drunkenly.

“I remember those parties,” Caitlyn chimed in.

“No, I’m serious, what do you mean?” Mel said.

“I would be more than happy to tell the story,” Viktor announced.

“Why don’t we skip it, Viktor,” Jayce pouted with a blush.

“Jayce, don’t be embarrassed. It is the night before our wedding! It is the perfect moment to tell the tale of how I first began to love you.”

* * *

One October day many years ago—(said Viktor the night before his wedding to an audience of Jayce, Mel, Caitlyn, and Vi, while sitting languidly on the parlor seat)—I found a blue-enveloped letter slid under my door addressed to me from Mr. Jayce Talis. I found this odd, primarily because despite the youth of Jayce and I’s business partnership, we saw each other for our work frequently and could have easily passed on any message in person.

It is important to note, I think, that not only was our partnership new, but I had only recently begun residing in Piltover on a more permanent basis. I had been living in academy dorms, but once my official apprenticeship to Mr. Heimerdinger had finished, a young man at the academy suggested that we take a house together in a commuting neighborhood. He found the house, a weatherbeaten cardboard townhouse at eighty a month, but at the last minute, he was ordered away, and I moved in alone.

I had heard music and seen much excitement coming from the low penthouse a few blocks down on a few occasions through those autumn nights, but I had no idea Jayce was their host until I received that blue letter inviting me to one, signed ‘JT’ in that majestic hand I recognized from his notes.

I departed for his building dressed in white flannels around seven on the date specified, and when I finally climbed to the penthouse, I was unsure whether it belonged to Jayce or was simply the locale of his parties. 

I was immediately greeted with a more lively and gay scene than I had laid eyes on in years, filled with well-dressed and moderately-mannered people dancing to loud jazz music. I immediately felt out of place, and not only because dancing was out of the question for me. These were the exact sort of Piltovians I resented, and I had no connections with any of them besides the host.

Therefore, I spent the next hours slowly wandering around, spotting some considerably famous people, but no Jayce. When it seemed that I had checked every room, and had been all but shooed off by all attendees who at least minutely knew who I was, I retreated to one of the bars to drown myself in a good drink. My mind swirled, and I was considering leaving, but I soon heard a man sit next to me at the bar. I had no interest in conversation. I did not turn to look at him.

“Is that drink any good?” he asked.

I nodded.

“What’s it called?”

“I don’t remember. It was offered to me.”

There was a pause.

“Are you having a gay time?”

I huffed.

“This is an unusual party for me. I haven’t even seen the host. I live over there—” I waved my hand in the direction of the building, “and this man, called Talis, despite being my colleague, sent over a letter of invitation.”

“Viktor, it’s me,” he said. “It’s Talis.”

My head shot to look at him, and I saw that it truly was him. I cursed myself for being too inebriated to recognize his voice.

“I beg your pardon,” I pleaded.

“No, I apologize. I’m afraid I haven’t been a very good host.”

When he smiled, it finally confirmed for me that it was one of the best smiles I would ever see before I left this mortal plane. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it that, when turned outward, could charm the entire world if need be, but when turned on you had an irresistible prejudice in your favor and a deep understanding of you in the exact way you wished to be.

For the rest of the night, Jayce paraded me around, introducing me to every guest. Most of the guests acted like they weren’t even sure Jayce truly existed when he introduced himself, but Jayce shed layer after layer of mystery. He brought the eyes of many onto our ever-developing work with just a few quick words. And he always included me in the conversation being had, saying:

“Viktor, my dear partner, what did you think of the latest trade reports?” or “What do you think of her dress, my dear partner?” or “My dear partner, have you tried the tarts?” or “Well, old sport, I would have never made it as far as I have if it weren’t for my dear partner here.”

That was the other thing. For some reason still unknown to me, Jayce had developed the habit at that time of calling every one “old sport,” even if they had only just been acquainted.

“How is that drink, old sport?” he’d say, or “you look well, old sport,” or “look here, old sport.”

But that night, he only addressed me, as “my dear partner.” Every other guest was “old sport” but I was his dear partner and I could not make heads or tails of it, nor the flushed feeling that grew in my chest every time he addressed me so. 

When we were both more than sufficiently drunk, the crowd had begun its thinning, and the night had long since made itself known, Jayce led me away to a closed-off study, only occupied by a sleeping old man. He presented his favorite books to me, ranted and raved about them while I smiled brightly, entranced by his descriptions and obsessions, before he joined me on the sofa and fell completely silent.

“She didn’t show,” Jayce said, as if realizing something for the first time.

I asked him immediately who he spoke of, but he deflected and shut me up with curt noises. 

“It’s no matter,” Jayce decided. “You’re here. And we will have way more fun.”

“Jayce, do not drag me to my feet again.”

“The night is young!”

We tried and failed to dance, before quickly moving to sit somewhere and listen to the music, bodies relaxed and resting slightly against each other, heads nodding along. It was a brand new jazz piece Jayce loved that if the whispers surrounding us were to be believed, had been played many a time already that night.

And then, at some point, time had passed far too much. I do not know whether I accidentally slept or whether the drinks removed my memories, but all at once the place was nearly empty, the music stopped, and the faint sounds of the final guests leaving echoed from the other rooms. I leaned forward to stand, but Jayce shooed me back and secured my company by handing me a cigarette.

“Jayce?” I asked after a while. He responded with a prompting nod and worry-filled eyes. “I had a wonderful time tonight. And each time you speak with me you light up. But now, in the quiet moments, a deep sadness and disappointment fills you. Make no attempt to deny it.”

“You, as you often are, are correct. And as I trust you in business, I see no reason not to trust you with my personal endeavors.”

He drunkenly massaged my aching legs as he explained that ever since he’d seen “Councilor Medarda,” as he said, and ever since he helped her, he had slowly been falling deeper and deeper in love with her after every meeting between them. My heart dropped at this reveal, despite expecting a similar confession, and at that moment, I did not understand why.

He went on to clarify that he hoped his newfound wealth would impress her, or at least allow a woman of her status to consider him, and that he had been throwing these dazzling parties with every notable person in Piltover invited in the hopes that she would one day show. Perhaps then they would truly connect and get to know each other deeper than any professional manner. And yes, he admitted, perhaps then she would fall in love with him.

I largely kept quiet as he spoke, and was somewhat endeared that he explained the whole situation the same way he explained scientific and mathematical problems, but I nodded at appropriate points. However, this meant the room fell silent when Jayce finished. 

“I know what you’ll say,” Jayce said. “I should give the whole effort up.”

“Well, Jayce, you did pick the most unattainable woman in Piltover. And besides, there are rumors of marriage.”

“There are always rumors of marriage.”

I laughed. “I suppose that’s true.”

I thanked him for telling me, and the amount of relief he seemed to feel afterward gave me a strong sense of purpose. Despite his embarrassment, he still seemed incredibly comfortable around me, and I still saw his smile. Once I realized it was far too late for me to still be out, he showed me to the door and suggested I come again if he threw another party. I made no promises, but for the first time in a long while, there was a party I wanted to attend.

After marching through the dark night along the pristine sidewalk, slow enough to remain steady the whole way, I finally reached my building. I turned back in the direction I had just left, and there was the small image of Jayce, waiting at the street’s edge, still watching me. He waved as I opened the doors to my building, and I awkwardly waved back as I shuffled inside.

And how near he was to my house at the time would only increase his allure, but none of it was necessary to confirm my feelings. Because that October night, at his party, was all I needed to know that I loved Jayce Talis.

* * *

As Viktor recounted the events, Jayce could see the memory of that night in his mind just as clearly. But as he turned over the party in his head, for a moment, the memory shifts and glitches, and instead of an art deco smattering of flapper dresses and pinstripes, the scene was suddenly simultaneously modern and steampunk, with stark neutral colors. Before Jayce could get a grasp of it, the image soon reverted to normal.

Soon, Viktor’s story was over, and the entire audience in the parlor was stunned and enthralled. When silence fell, Jayce spoke.

“I used to sit on that penthouse balcony, and look to the building I knew was owned by you, Mel. I would see the light in the window and feel connected to you somehow. And eventually, when I had given up all hope of you ever taking a romantic interest in me, I started looking to Viktor’s building. I could see the light in the window that I knew was his apartment, and I would be at once comforted.”

Tears welled in Viktor’s eyes now, in all of the eyes watching him truly, and Jayce wrapped his arm around Viktor even tighter.

“I mean no offense, Jayce,” Mel said. “But how were you so very blind?”

“I ask myself the same thing every day.”

They all talked more and more to the point that Jayce reached a familiar state of his mind being more interested in the mundane things around him than words. That was how he noticed that the glasses near everyone were close to empty. All except Viktor’s, which was not only completely full, but still seemed to be one of the first glasses of champagne passed out at the beginning of the night.

“Viktor?” Jayce asked. “You haven’t had anything to drink all night. You haven’t even touched the champagne. What’s going on? Wait—”

Jayce’s time spent as a detective sent his mind spiraling to an impossible speed as he recalled different details he had overlooked, all leading to one conclusion.

“I knew I couldn’t keep it from you long,” Viktor admitted. “That brain of yours is just too powerful. Ever the scientist. Ever the detective.”

“So you’re—”

“Yes, my love. I’m pregnant.”

Jayce froze for a long moment before surging forward and wrapping Viktor in an excited embrace as he frenziedly kissed at Viktor’s cheek. He couldn’t stop the tears that flowed as he held his future in his arms.

“This is the best day of my life. And I thought tomorrow would be the best day of my life.”

“Perhaps it still will be.”

* * *

It was. With the start of the ceremony fast approaching, Jayce’s mother placed a garland of blue flowers over his crisp white suit and trousers, his heart racing faster the nearer the moment became.

“Don’t cry yet,” Jayce ordered when he noticed tears at the corners of his mother’s eyes. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and there will be plenty of time for that later.”

She tried her very best and rested her hand on Jayce’s arm. After giving him a once-over, checking his hair, suit, and demeanor, her eyes grew very serious.

“Are you ready?” she asked, as if such a question was easy to answer.

“I don’t know how I’d know.”

“Reach down into your heart of hearts, your mind of minds, beneath all this, ignoring all influences, all pressures, all expectations, and ask yourself, do you want this?”

The pure, untainted string of Jayce Talis at the center of his being thrummed a single word:

“Yes.”

“Then, my son, you are more than ready.”

His arm in his mother’s, Jayce passed through the grand oak doors onto the crowded rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in Piltover, the glittering view of the ever-changing machine that was the city sprawled out around them. The chairs, floors, and arches were decorated with goldenrod and lilies and purple hyacinths. Sunlight danced through the crowd as the pianist began playing the wedding march, and the attendees all rose to their feet like a shimmering wave. All eyes were on him, but Jayce’s eyes were only on one person.

Viktor stood at the manufactured altar, gorgeous in a dark red blouse and red pants, all adorned with stripes and swirls of gold.

They were House Talis colors, Jayce realized, as his mother led him down the aisle and all faces followed their path.

When they reached the wedding arch, Jayce all at once realized the rest of his surroundings and turned to his mother, kissing her cheek before she took her seat in the front row. He then turned to Viktor, a sly smirk on his face but an endearing wetness in his eyes.

“You look…” Jayce started, losing his words.

“So do you.”

Viktor looked out at the guests, and Jayce followed his gaze. It was a sea of friends and loved ones. Caitlyn sat with Vi in the front row by Jayce’s mother. Mel was here, as was Professor Heimerdinger, Nicholas, Mrs. Connor, old man Brighton, Sheila, Tobias Kiramman, and even a very human Vander was sitting with Mr. Dmitri of all people.

Jayce and Viktor turned back toward each other and held each other’s hands as tightly as if they were holding onto life itself. The officiant began speaking, but Jayce and Viktor did not take their eyes off each other even once. “I do,” was muttered and meant each time it passed their lips, enshrining their love in a promise that they would not break. He would have him, love him, honor him, cherish him, in sickness and in health for the rest of their lives.

Before long, Jayce cried as he slid a glittering silver wedding band onto Viktor’s finger, and Viktor slid a matching one onto Jayce’s. 

And then, finally, the officiant said, “You may now kiss.”

Jayce pulled Viktor into a powerful kiss, and his heart was suddenly ablaze, his senses alight as he kissed his husband for the very first time. His future was here. Viktor’s touch grounded him, wedding bells blared, and the crowd was cheering, and all of a sudden, Viktor pulled away and screamed.

“Viktor!” Jayce panicked. “What happened?”

“I think the baby’s coming.”

“But you’ve only been pregnant for…”

“Jayce. It’s coming.”

He leapt into action immediately, the ceremony and festivities forgotten. They would not make it to any doctor or midwife in time, so they instead went home, deciding that Mel and Ximena, who both had experience delivering babies, would help them. Caitlyn was driving, and sat with Vi and Mel to her right on the bench. In the back, Jayce and Ximena sat on either side of Viktor, trying desperately to comfort him.

Or at least Ximena was. Jayce was arguably panicking in equal measure.

“How did you get so far along so fast?”

“We’ve both touched the Arcane, Jayce,” Viktor wheezed. “We have it…in our blood. Hopefully this is the only ramification of that.”

“However it happened, we’re still woefully unprepared. All we have is a crib still in pieces.”

“It is certainly happening concerningly fast. We haven’t even come up with a name!”

“Actually, I that is the one area in which I have some ideas.”

Viktor couldn’t help his smile.

“Will?” Jayce offered, after opening his breast pocket notepad to read. “Or William. After Shakespeare. ‘All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.’ Or even Billy!”

“Maybe.”

“I also have Leo, like Da Vinci. Or Acen. Or Thalen.”

While Caitlyn sped ahead, Jayce listed more names slowly, as if weighing them on his tongue.

“What if it’s a girl?” Caitlyn asked over her shoulder.

“Oh, of course,” Jayce said as he flipped a few pages. “I have Wanda, Celosia, Talina, Lorna, or Ximena, obviously after you, Mama. I can explain the others too, but there’s also—”

“Jayce, this has been a wonderful distraction, but I don’t think we’re going to settle on a name before we get home.”

Jayce looked around. They were approaching the driveway.

After the car came to a screeching halt, Jayce lifted Viktor and laid him across his arms, getting him inside and putting him in a robe. After Caitlyn laid down some towels, Jayce lifted Viktor onto his back on the bed. Mel and Ximena slowly talked Viktor through his pain and nerves as minutes and then hours passed. At one point, the sight of Viktor’s neck tensing and body straining made Jayce shiver with worry for him.

Jayce suddenly screamed.

“What?” the whole room cried at once.

Jayce looked down at himself. If that contraction hadn’t been proof enough, the significant bump at the bottom of his abdomen that he’d somehow failed to notice settled it.

“I think there’s another baby coming.”

Jayce did not have time to think about the fact that the last time he checked, he did not have the right equipment to have a baby, before he was ushered to the bed and laid down next to Viktor.

“You just…had to…steal my thunder,” Viktor wheezed between labored exhales. Jayce started to laugh, but was interrupted by another wave of overwhelming pain.

Jayce could barely speak, but squeezed Viktor’s hand in comfort. 

“You’re doing so well!” Mel told Viktor. “It’s going great. Now both of you, look at Mrs. Talis.”

His mom led them both in breathing exercises, but then Viktor faltered.

“I can’t do this,” Viktor cried, and Jayce clutched his hand tighter as his heart broke.

“It’s time to start pushing,” Mel told Viktor. “Are you ready?”

Jayce could feel Viktor shake his head.

“You’re ready. You’re ready. Push, Viktor, push!”

Viktor screamed louder than Jayce had ever heard him, the sound so loud it felt like it messed up his senses and everything around him briefly moved and shifted.

And then Viktor started breathing normally again as Mel finished delivering the baby. But another contraction rocked Jayce’s body to remind him that it wasn’t over yet. He did some more breathing exercises with his mother’s guidance, and then he knew it was time.

“Okay, my son,” Ximena said. “Your turn. Push.”

Viktor squeezed one of Jayce’s hands, and Caitlyn squeezed the other. He was eternally grateful to have them at his side for this moment. He pushed, and a pain so terrible it blocked out his memory of the moment tore through him, the same swirling of his senses the only thing he could remember before suddenly his mother was placing a baby in his arms, and he turned and looked to see Viktor with one in his arms too. Jayce looked down at the beautiful ball of love, its paler skin making it certain it was Viktor’s child.

After resting like that for a long while, and trading babies back and forth, Vi came in to announce she had finished putting together the crib. Hours later, once they eventually had both babies settled in it, Viktor and Mel sat next to the crib, watching them. Jayce decided he wanted to walk the others out, despite his mother’s protests, as Caitlyn and Vi were heading to help settle all of the wedding plans, and his mother was going to pick up all the supplies they could need.

A few seconds after Jayce left, Viktor half-heartedly chuckled.

“I suppose I have you to thank for all this, Mel,” Viktor realized. “If he hadn’t thrown those parties for you, I’m not sure we would have ever fallen in love. I’m not sure we would have ever even become close friends.”

“You would have,” Mel assured. “Anyone can see that.”

“I miss those times. Inventing together. Facing the world. Just me, Jayce…and Sky.”

Mel turned somberly, watching as Viktor’s body tensed up and his legs trembled slightly. His eyes were unfocused, as if he were lost in memory.

“She was killed by the Hexcore, wasn’t she?”

Viktor’s body stilled at Mel’s words, and his head swiveled to her.

“What did you say?”

Mel just blinked at Viktor for a long moment.

“I said, ‘Viktor, you’re so strong!’ Should I say it again for good measure?”

“No. What did you say about Sky?”

“Sky,” Mel nervously chuckled, wiping her hands on her dress. “Uh…hey, why don’t I take a shift rocking the babies?”

“No, I think it’s time you left.”

“Oh, Viktor, don’t be like that,” Mel begged as she backed away slowly.

Viktor tilted his head as something clicked in his mind.

“Why are you here? Where did you come from? What are you doing here, really?”

* * *

“Is Mel inside with Viktor?” Nicholas asked Jayce once Caitlyn, Vi, and his mother had left. 

He searched around for the source of the voice, finding their neighbors Nicholas, Mrs. Connor, and Sheila gossiping at the hedge line dividing Jayce’s property from Sheila’s. 

“Yes, why?”

When Nicholas didn’t respond, Mrs. Connor spoke up.

“She’s still very new to town. Newer than anyone else. There’s no family. She has no occupation.”

“And no husband,” Nicholas added.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Jayce insisted. 

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“But she has no home,” Sheila chimed in, practically whispering. Jayce could not get the image of Sheila cutting the air out into the street out of his head. He did not want something like that to happen again.

There was a silence as all three avoided Jayce’s eyes.

“What do you mean she has no home? She lives at the Medarda manor, near the family Kiramman home.”

“The Medarda manor doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, it does, Sheila, she was on her way there when that beast was following her, when Viktor and I tailed her from the Kiramman home.”

“To the Medarda manor?”

“Yes.”

“But did you ever actually see the Medarda manor?” Mrs. Connor asked.

“No,” Jayce realized. “I suppose I didn’t.”

It didn’t prove anything, but it unsettled Jayce nonetheless.

“She came here because—” Shiela blurted out, before stopping herself.

“She came here because…” Mrs. Connor tried to finish for her, but her words also failed.

“She came here because we’re all…”

“Because what?” Jayce yelled at Sheila. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“She came here because we’re all—”

“Stop it,” Nicholas cut Shelia off, his eyes wild and scared. He turned to Mrs. Connor, and silently pleaded with her, too.

Jayce stared at them, utterly confused and terrified. His body was aching, and this was not what he needed after just giving birth due to a cryptic pregnancy. 

“Well, I better get going,” Nicholas decided, walking to the sidewalk. “My wife has dinner waiting.”

“Until next time, Mr. Talis,” Mrs. Connor chimed in, before also turning and walking away.

When Jayce turned back to Shiela, she had already turned her back and was speeding toward her house’s door.

After being stunned by surprise for a long moment, Jayce turned back toward his house and slipped through the door. Viktor was rocking the babies’ crib with his back to where Jayce stood at the entryway.

Mel was nowhere to be seen.

“Viktor? Where’s Mel?”

“Oh she left, my love. She had to rush home.”

The words didn’t sit right, but Jayce had no time to consider that, because when Viktor turned to face him, his face had no color and his torso was mangled as if crushed and scarred by an awful wound, with skin and clothes that appeared covered in ashes. Jayce blinked and Viktor’s body was now purple, glowing with energy and ornamented with gold sections, as if made of metal and magic.

Jayce blinked again, and Viktor was as he had appeared earlier, in much more fitting clothes, with a beautiful smile now on his face.

Jayce moved over to the crib and lifted the baby not being held by Viktor into his arms with a smile. He and Viktor shared a loving look, and he tried very hard to keep his face from faltering. For now, he decided to ignore his misgivings and complaints as they blared in his head, and enjoy the gifts he had. It was like his father said: many did not have what wonders he did.

He and Viktor walked outside and sat together on a long chair facing the pool. Their babies were held tight as they looked out at the marvelous view. They must’ve been the happiest family in Piltover.

“NO!” Jayce screams. “We’re not done here.”

“I’m going to bed,” Viktor decides.

Jayce plants himself in Viktor’s way and holds his shoulders.

“I have to believe that this, whatever this is, was subconscious at first and that you only recently became aware of it.”

“I’m not listening to this.” Viktor bristles, pushing past him.

“Vander hasn’t seen his family, Viktor!" Jayce yells. "His family is here, and he can't speak to them because you won't let him!”

Viktor rounds on Jayce.

“I don't know what you're talking about!” Viktor lies, desperate to avoid the entire conversation.

“Stop lying to me!”

They shove each other apart and stare the other down as Viktor’s fingertips start to glow.

“No more yelling!” Vander whines, standing and running out of the room, with Silco following him silently.

“This, all of this, is for us,” Viktor insists with labored breaths. “So let me handle it.”

“What is going on outside of Piltover?”

“You will regret knowing, I promise you.”

“You don't get to make that choice for me, Viktor!” Jayce snaps.

“This has all gone too far. You went too far, and now you’re taking it out on me.”

“You’re the one who wanted me like this! Who set up the entire night from the situation to the damn ambiance to make us hurt each other! To make us fight! To make me angry for some deranged plan to get all our conflict out of our system in one night!”

“Well you shouldn’t still be acting like this now. I’ve never seen—You never used to act like this.”

“Used to act? When? I can hardly remember my life! I barely know who I am! It’s all loose bits and pieces, and I'm scared!”

“You are my husband. You are a father. Isn't this all enough for you?”

“I’m a father to fake children. Children who are in college now and don’t need us.”

“Jayce.”

“And with them all grown up, I’m not sure there are children left in Piltover.” He glances outside. “I never see kids outside, kids with parents, ever. Why is that?”

Viktor drops himself onto the couch as his body trembles with energy and exhaustion, and holds his horror-stricken face in his hands.

“Do you truly believe that I am controlling everything? That I—I am somehow in charge of everyone and everything in this city? I'm puppeting people and doing their daily tasks for them, I’m writing storylines, I’m changing the ambiance, I’m creating life? I mean, I…”

Viktor tries to chuckle, but can’t. Because Jayce can believe it. He believes Viktor can do anything.

“My memories aren’t right either,” Viktor admits. “It’s all there, just sometimes out of reach. I only have flashes of what initiated all this in the first place. I don’t know how.”

Noticing Viktor’s wide eyes and trembling body, Jayce moves to his side and leans over the armchair.

“Viktor,” Jayce coos, holding Viktor’s cheek with one hand. “This isn’t right. What you’re doing here is wrong.”

A deafening roar echoes throughout the house. Jayce turns to Viktor with suspicion.

“I didn’t,” Viktor protests. “That wasn’t me. I don’t know—”

Vander, in his horrifying wolf form, smashes through the living room wall, and his roar echoes throughout the house as the hellhound of flesh and fire tears through the furniture without warning. Viktor raises his hands, summoning white and purple energy in an attempt to hold the beast down telekinetically, but it resists and comes bounding toward Jayce and Viktor.

“Jayce, get your hammer,” Viktor groans as he uses a purple energy shield to hold back the beast, an impossible level of power that Jayce has never seen from him before.

“What?”

“Call it to your hand, it will come.”

Putting his trust in Viktor, Jayce holds out his hand, causing an oversized mallet-like hammer to come flying into Jayce’s palm and eject an electric pulse as it makes contact. The center of it glows blue, and lightning flows around it as Jayce’s feet lift off the ground slightly.

He moves on instinct, racing forward and slamming the hammer into Vander before his claws can reach Viktor, unleashing a pulse of lightning that knocks Vander back through the front wall and onto the front yard. Jayce flies, actually flies outside and Viktor follows him to meet the rampaging beast. As Jayce tries to get it to stand down with a constant lightning pulse, Viktor does his best to hold it down telekinetically. Yet the beast doesn’t stay down and won’t let up, and neither do they.

Viktor trips the beast as it runs by lifting pieces of the ground up under its feet, while Jayce knocks it down over and over with strikes from his hammer against its impenetrable skin. As Jayce and Viktor almost pass Vander back and forth with their powered attacks, neighbors step outside their houses to watch. 

When the beast eventually gets too close to Jayce, he tries to fly away, but it catches him under its paw and pins him down. Jayce screams as Viktor terrifyingly tears apart the house and the lawn to launch various objects at the beast telekinetically at a speed as fast as bullets. But before he can make any progress, Viktor spots a hand reaching out from under Vander’s head, holding something up to his nose. Whatever it is makes the beast pass out instantly just from smelling it, its body shrinking and changing back into the shape of Vander’s. As it collapses, the short woman standing behind it, holding whatever sent it to sleep, is revealed.

Viktor stares at their savior, frozen in place. Jayce only watches his husband.

“Your oldest friend just saved your husband’s life,” the new arrival tells Viktor. “Aren’t you going to hug me?”

It can’t be. But it is.

“Sky?”

The woman nods. Viktor flies forward and sweeps her up into a long embrace, tears in his eyes. Eventually, she pulls her head back and looks around.

“Hey, looks like your kitchen’s still intact. Mind if I grab a snack?”

“Not at all.”

Sky and Viktor disappear into the wreckage of the house while Jayce shifts his focus to Vander, a man left ashamed, disappointed, and terrified. Small elements of his wolf form still linger on his body, and he seems equally scared of Jayce as Jayce of him.

“I should go,” Vander says.

“Yes,” Jayce agrees. “You probably should.”

“Where’s Silco?”

Jayce looks back at the house.

“I think he already ran.”

“Was that…even really him? Am I really his fiancée?”

Vander’s words reopen a thought in Jayce’s head that he’s been distracted from, having unwittingly provided him with a solution to an erroneous detail.

Vander and I were at your wedding, Silco had said earlier. But Silco hadn’t been at his wedding. He had hardly known him then. And Vander was at the wedding with…

It suddenly all makes sense. The long hair. How young he appeared for his age. And the pure annoyance and sense of threat he gives Jayce just from his very presence. A true blurring of reality and illusion.

Dmitri. He was always Dmitri.

“No,” Jayce reveals. “It wasn’t him.”

Vander just nods solemnly. 

“Y’know, you and Viktor…remind me of me and Silco. The good, and the bad. I don’t know if you know this, I don’t think I even fully remembered till now, but our story ended in tragedy. Don’t let the same thing happen to you two.”

Jayce swallows and nods as Vander pats him on the shoulder. Now fully human, he takes off into the faint light of dawn.

Jayce follows Viktor back into the remains of their house and watches as Viktor simply lifts a finger or two to make its broken parts come flying back together like nothing was ever broken. He smiles at Jayce like nothing between them had even snapped. Jayce shivers, drops his hammer, and collapses on the floor.

He can hear Sky rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, looking for something to eat. After the Silco revelation, he finds himself terrified that not only what he’s seeing, but who he’s seeing, may not be real. Is she just another illusion designed as a distraction? 

Jayce hears her sing to herself, a familiar tune only barely audible from the other room.

“Who’s afraid of the Arcane Herald,
the Arcane Herald,
the Arcane Herald…”

“That’s how it went!” Viktor exclaims, looking down to where Jayce is sitting for approval. “The song at the party.”

Viktor sings softly as he works, casually putting the house’s many sections and facades back together with merely the power of his mind as if it’s normal, as if any of this is normal.

“Who’s afraid of the Arcane Herald,
the Arcane Herald,
the Arcane Herald?”

“I…am…Viktor,” Jayce whispers.

“Who’s afraid of the Arcane Herald…?”

“I…am…I…am…”

the new adventures of

the Defender and Arcane Herald

My name is Viktor Talis.

My name is Jayce Talis.

I did not want to be a superhero.

I’d be lying if I said I’d never wanted to be a superhero.

But ever since superpowered beings were seen battling a werewolf in Piltover, supervillains have been stepping up everywhere to challenge us, forcing our hand. The city needs heroes.

Now, I couldn’t be more grateful that my husband and I can still live ordinary lives despite our powers. We were lucky that so few people put together that Viktor and I were the super beings fighting the werewolf that fateful night. 

I’m enjoying our new lives more than I ever thought possible.

Being a hero is a dream come true, but it feels nothing like I imagined.

When I was a kid, I’d read superhero stories and see all the peril they had to face, all the impossible world-ending villains they had to defeat. I’d remind myself that my life was hard, but at least it wasn’t as hard as those of the heroes on the pages.

When I was a kid, I drew a picture of myself with a cape and a massive, powerful hammer. I dreamed that I would help everyone in the city and be loved by all. I don’t remember much, or where that dream really came from, but I think that wish to be a savior drove me throughout my life.

Now I see that being a superhero is a gift. To experience such thrill and adventure while making the world a better place is all anyone could ask for.

Now I know that being a superhero is a sacrifice, one that I don’t take lightly. But it’s worth it to help and protect everyone in our city.

It’s not easy.

It’s hard.

But I don't do it alone.

In the tallest building in Piltover, and the only one with a massive spinning globe-like ball at the top of it, Jayce sits at his desk, typing away at his next article for the Hexgate Gazette. It’s not long before his desk neighbor, and coincidentally his real-life neighbor, Nicholas Sloane, rolls his chair over to him.

“Hey Jayce, we’re getting some reports of an enhanced attack on the west side of town that might need some of your field reporting.”

Jayce jumps to his feet and heads toward the stairwell, Nicholas trailing after him.

“I’m on my way. Start writing up the article!”

Nicholas had known Jayce’s secret identity ever since he watched Jayce and his husband battle a werewolf up close on his front lawn, but luckily, he’s willing to keep it a secret.

“How come you always make me write the super attack stuff?” Nicholas whines. He lowers his voice as he continues. “You’re the one who always gets such up close details.”

“Sorry, Nick,” Jayce shrugs as he steps into the stairwell. “I’ll get you that exclusive interview after!”

After closing the door on Nicholas, Jayce takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches the ground floor of the building and races out into the street. He spots cars speeding away from the west side of town as he ducks into the nearest telephone booth, leaving the door open just enough to allow his hammer to fly inside and land snugly in his palm. Pure arcane energy, electric and powerful, flows through his body, transforming his clothes and empowering every cell in his body. When he steps out of the booth and takes off into the sky, he is no longer just Jayce, he is:

The Defender.

In one of Piltover Academy’s pristine lecture halls, Viktor is lecturing a wall of eager students on mechanical engineering when he hears soft buzzing on the lectern in front of him. He keeps talking as he tilts his eyes down, reading the message scrolling across the vibrating pager.

…disturbance on the west side of Piltover. Woman, enhanced, rampaging through…

Viktor finishes his sentence and claps once.

“That’s all for today. I’m ending class early. I will see you all for the quiz!”

Viktor hurriedly walks toward his office as a stream of students flow toward the exit door. 

“And make sure you do the reading, you will fail if you do not!”

Viktor ducks into his office and immediately lunges for the staff hidden behind the desk before heading out the back door, sneaking away to an out-of-sight place enclosed between two brick buildings. Once he confirms the coast is clear, he lifts both of his arms out and begins to spin. A bright sphere of white light engulfs him as he turns, and when it recedes and he stops spinning, his clothes have been completely transformed. A purple and black armored suit covers his body, a blue cape flows behind him, and a metal mask covers his face. As he leaps into the sky, he is no longer Viktor, he is:

The Arcane Herald.

Viktor flies over the scene, spotting the supervillain and the trail of destruction left in her wake. Cops and medics swarm the area, and Viktor spots Jayce speaking with Vi.

He lands next to his husband, startling him much more than he means to.

“Janna, Viktor,” Jayce swears before catching his breath. “Vi was just telling me about our villain.”

“Who is she?”

A booming voice echoes throughout the street nearby, setting off a chain reaction of screams.

“I am Sevika, the Left Hand! You will all face my vengeance!”

“There’s your answer,” Vi supplies.

“Was she here all this time?” Jayce jokingly asks Viktor. “Where were you keeping her?”

“Eh, what?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Anyway,” Vi continues with urgency. “Her left arm is some sort of enhanced device that allows her to summon all sorts of weaponry and projectiles.”

Jayce turns to Viktor.

“You ready? Cloud Girl can’t hold down the fort forever.”

“Sky is here?”

“C’mon, you knew that.”

He hadn’t. Sure enough, as Viktor flies closer, he spots the nebulous form of his childhood best friend taking on Sevika. Sky is always surprising him. She has the power to transform her body into a living cloud of anything she can imagine, from water vapor, to stones, to thorns, or just dust.

“Took you two long enough,” Sky groans as she returns to human form beside them. Her costume is an iridescent body suit with colorful pink, white, and teal swirls covering it. Gold goggles with lenses sit on her face. 

Sevika launches a missile of some kind, and Sky turns her arm into a cloud of rocks, extending it outward to intercept it and make it explode long before it could reach them.  Jayce launches forward to slam his hammer into Sevika, but Sky also dives after him, putting herself between Jayce and Sevika’s arm. When Cloud Girl goes shooting into the air at her touch, Jayce does his best to kick Sevika away from him before she can charge up her updraft power and launch him too.

Sky turns herself into a storm cloud, and a torrent of rain precipitates from it until there’s nothing left. Now a puddle on the street, Sky reforms, and flashes Viktor and Jayce a smile.

“So yeah, don’t let her touch you,” Sky reminds him. “You’ll be stuck hovering up there much longer if you can’t transform like I can.”

“Good to know,” Jayce grunts.

“Just like that time we got lost in the fissures, huh Vik?” Sky reminds him while dodging the random items soaring at them. “Those vents launched us up with enormous force. You were so fascinated.”

“Not exactly how I remember it,” Viktor admits. In fact, he doesn’t remember the two of them ever doing that, and unlike his other missing memories, he’s pretty sure this one never actually happened.

Viktor charges up some lasers from his third mechanical arm and fires them at Sevika, forcing her to dodge wildly, but even with her larger figure, Viktor can’t get a shot off.

“Hey!” someone yells from behind him, turning to see Caitlyn in her full officer getup.  “They’re all coming down! You need to catch them!”

That’s when Viktor spots all of the people Sevika had launched in the air already, who were left hovering thousands of meters up. He recognizes three of them as his neighbors, Shiela, Mr. Dmitri, and Mrs. Connor, as they start to fall back down to the ground, one by one. Viktor speeds around the area, catching people with both his hands and telekinesis, trying his best to move them to safer areas before someone else drops.

Although Jayce and Sky have taken over fighting Sevika, he pops back in here and there to help, distracting her with lasers, knocking her off her feet with a kick, or holding back a stream of fire launching from her arm toward Jayce with telekinesis until Sky can put the fire out with a rainy cloud.

While Viktor speeds after another plummeting civilian, Sevika returns her arm to a regular shape and charges toward Jayce and Sky. Jayce spins and swings his hammer toward her for a powerful strike, but she just grabs it with her metal hand and squeezes it tight. Before she can break it, Jayce launches a stream of Hex energy from the hammer that sends Sevika shooting up into the air like the civilians. But she comes down much faster, landing on Jayce and grappling him to the ground. The two wrestle as she desperately tries to make her updraft attack charge faster, but when Jayce slams into her and leaves her unsteady, Viktor swoops in to throw her off Jayce with his mind and land nearby.

Sevika quickly shifts her focus to Viktor, firing entire cannonballs at him. Viktor leans back and lifts into the air, making himself completely flat and adjusting so that none of the projectiles hit him.

Sevika must realize she’s losing now, or at least losing control of the situation, because she goes for a desperate play in the form of a massive distraction that will occupy all of them. Approaching the few cops around, Sevika fires a sound cannon at all of them, tearing up the road with deafening noise and sending deadly chunks of it toward them.

Viktor, Jayce, and Sky swoop in to save them and the civilians they’re trying to evacuate from the scene, grabbing Caitlyn and two others and bringing them over to safety. Jayce sets Vi down next to Caitlyn and the two launch into a desperate, adrenaline-filled embrace from their near-death experience. The way they hold each other, kiss and caress each other, reminds Viktor that everyone is truly happy in this place, and helps soothe the doubts trickling in.

It also worries him that Jayce hasn’t been that open with him in a while.

More screaming pulls his attention, and Viktor quickly devises a plan that he speed-relays to Jayce and Sky as the trio bolt toward Sevika. 

Turning into a cloud of sand, Sky descends on Sevika and swirls it around, temporarily blinding Sevika. While she’s distracted and blind, Jayce sneaks up behind her and uses his super strength to grapple her to the ground. Sevika panics as she tries to figure out what’s going on and blindly launches her boxing glove attached to a rope toward Sky, who uses a cloud of nails to pin the glove, and thus her arm, down.

With Jayce holding down one side of her and Sky holding down the other, Viktor activates his arm laser and fires it at her shoulder to slowly saw the arm off.

“I apologize for this,” Viktor tuts. “We’ll get you a new one. A much safer one.”

The second before it’s sawed completely off, she transforms it into an extending arm and touches Viktor with it, activating her updraft and sending him shooting straight up into the air feet first. Once he’s higher than the clouds, the momentum stalls, and he’s left hovering, blood rushing to his head. Even with his powers of flight, he can’t descend or really move at all.

Luckily, it isn’t long before the Defender’s mighty hammer carries him up to his husband. Noticing his upside-down state, Jayce moves to line up his eyes with the lenses of Viktor’s mask.

“You alright?” Jayce questions.

“Yes. What about—”

“Don’t worry, Sevika the Left Hand is being taken into custody as we speak.”

“That’s very good.”

“Where she’ll get a full, fair trial, right Viktor?”

Viktor hates the prick of fear he spots in Jayce’s eyes every time they speak, any time they get close. He wants to soothe it and make it disappear more than anything else. He needs Jayce to trust him again.

“Of course,” Viktor nods wearily. “Congratulations, Defender. We saved the day.”

Jayce smiles and reaches forward instinctively, hesitating for a moment when he realizes what’s he’s doing before relenting and grabbing Viktor’s mask. He pulls it down toward his forehead just enough to reveal his lips before leaning in and kissing them.

And from the slow, soothing rhythm of their upside-down kiss, Viktor wonders if what’s important isn’t getting Jayce to trust him, but to make Jayce feel good like he always wants to.

Viktor pulls Jayce up with help from his telekinesis until his face is in line with Jayce’s crotch. Jayce gasps and flinches as Viktor rubs his face against it. The effects of Sevika’s updraft will wear off soon, and he wants to make the most of it.

“We’re above the clouds, Jayce. No one can see us.”

Jayce looks down, swallows, and nods.

Viktor smiles. He undoes Jayce’s belt until he can pull down Jayce’s pants, and Viktor thrills at the sight of his husband laid bare. Without hesitation, Viktor takes him into his mouth, feeling comforted by the fullness he can now say is familiar as Jayce fills him.

Perhaps it sounds a bit silly to admit, but it also makes him feel fulfilled inside. He lives for the sweet noises Jayce makes as all his anxieties and inhibitions fade away, leaving him whining at the mercy of Viktor’s mouth. His excitement only grows as Viktor works, leaving him grasping for something to hold onto, but only finding Viktor’s body in the empty, glowing sky.

As Jayce approaches his climax, Viktor feels him pull his hips back as he reaches forward, grasping for the waistband of Viktor’s pants and pulling them up toward his feet. Desperate and wild, Jayce dives his face forward and takes Viktor in his mouth, too, wrenching a muffled moan out of him.

As they both work each other toward their climax, Viktor feels the most at peace he’s felt since their fight. He’s aware of how ridiculous this is. But the undeniable ecstasy makes it worth it, and the utter peace within and without is all he’s ever hoped for. Maybe this new level of fantasy and insanity would keep them both sane.

Viktor and I are in a bit of a bind.

Which is to say we’re swinging from the top of a building, trapped in magic fishing nets. 

The man responsible calls himself Aquaticman, and is apparently a former cop turned water-based supervillain. He has green fish-like skin and can breathe underwater. Using his hydrokinesis, he swims through a tube of water up to where he’s caught Jayce and Viktor, before staring them in the face.

Frankly, I’m annoyed, because this specific supervillain had interrupted me when I was trying to tell Viktor that I would need to be away for a little while…chasing a story. 

I suspect Viktor triggered this confrontation in the first place to keep me around.

No one could survive falling from this height, and Aquaticman knows that. With Jayce’s hammer and Viktor’s staff separated from them, both are powerless to escape. If Viktor cut himself free with his mechanical arm, he’d fall, and might not be able to summon his staff to him before he went splat on the pavement…or so he says. Every time Jayce tries to summon his hammer or even just twitches, the magic net tightens, and the pain of the constriction is already near unbearable.

Floating in a ball of water, Aquaticman smiles serenely, as if this is all just a relaxing outing. “It’s time for you both to take a dive.”

Do they all have to be this ridiculous?

A bright light in the sky draws Jayce’s eye. When he looks closer, he spots two flying figures descending toward them, one bathed in light and one glowing with darkness. Together, the two men were like a living eclipse, and were remarkably similar. Each wore a domino mask and a sleeveless jumpsuit that matched the other’s, one black with a white triangle logo, and the other white with a black wing-shaped logo. But most striking of all were the wings strung from the bottom of the one in white’s arms, connected to his side like a bird’s. They seemed to be made out of incredibly reflective metal plates that were glowing all on their own.

Jayce recognized them as the novice superheroes Blacklight and Lightwing. But he knew them better as Will and Leo Talis, his and Viktor’s twin sons.

Before Aquaticman can even think about dropping Jayce and Viktor from their nets, Lightwing, Leo Talis, swoops down at an impossible speed and slices his dagger-sharp wings through the top of the net. As the net falls away, and Jayce starts to fall with it, Lightwing pulls Jayce out of the net and sets him on the roof, allowing him to call his hammer to him again. 

Jayce looks over to see that Blacklight, Will, had used his power-channeling bracelet to create an energy construct of oversized scissors. Will’s constructs are black colored, like shadows, yet thrum with the energy of creation all the same. Once Viktor falls out of the net, the scissors disappear in a puff of smoke as Will summons a small platform to catch his father.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Viktor scolds their sons as he moves to the roof.

“Shouldn’t you be at school, father?” Will refutes with a mocking tone. Jayce chuckles and fist-bumps him.

A split second later, Aquaticman speeds toward them riding his waterspout, but Will summons a massive hammer and whips it into his side, sending him tumbling onto the roof. He charges with a cold glare as he fires a series of bullet-sized harpoons toward them, but Leo holds up and swings his bulletproof wings to block all of them.

Jayce looks over to Viktor with pride, and his husband stares back with an inscrutable expression. If Jayce had to guess, Viktor is still frustrated with him for aging up their children against his wishes, but Jayce refuses to pay it any mind. Things between them have been smoother now that they work separately, and Jayce hadn’t minded the change from professor to reporter. Besides, being a reporter allows him to gather clues about what Viktor’s doing here, clues that point to Piltover being some sort of bubble isolated from the outside world. His plan, that had been so rudely interrupted, is to find a way out of here and find help.

“Wait,” Leo calls out. “Someone’s coming.” That’s one of Leo’s other powers. If the light from his wings touches you, he can sense you.

Will is occupied by Aquaticman, and Jayce and Leo don’t have time to react before a large man in horrifying bat skull-like mask barrels into both of them and sends them flying onto the roof of the neighboring building. Using his wing-like cape, the newcomer with gray skin and bat-like ears glides down to them. Although he doesn’t know how, he knows it’s the supervillain known as Batskull.

The masked villain lobbs a flurry of punches toward Jayce, and after eating two, Jayce dodges the next two and redirects the rest. After he takes a boot to the chest, he swings his hammer, but a bo staff extends into Batskull’s hand, intercepting it. Leo is up now, flapping around, circling like a vulture so that he always stays in Batskull’s peripheral vision. For if anyone lays eyes on Lightwing, he can do more than sense them, he can read their minds.

Leo calls out the moves Batskull is going to make before he makes them, allowing Jayce to almost always prepare for them and dodge or counteract them. Batskull wails against Jayce’s empowered hammer with his staff, lobs Earangs, and levies kicks, but can’t get more than a few weak hits on him thanks to Leo. Once Batskull gets frustrated, he closes his eyes and launches toward him with his glider outstretched, knocking Jayce off the roof and moving their fight into the air while Leo joins close behind.

As Leo uses his impossibly fast flight, telepathy, and shield-like wings to take over the fight, Jayce spots Will and Viktor fighting Aquaticman above a nearby building. Will creates a funnel with a tube to send the water Aquaticman’s shooting back at him, and Viktor telekinetically throws hunks of rubble so that the nets Aquaticman is launching wrap around them and not him. They make a great team, too.

Jayce notices at that moment that the fights with both Aquaticman and Batskull are barreling toward the Hexgate Gazette building. After sweeping through it to tell Nicholas to start an evacuation, he returns in time to intercept a punch Batskull is sending toward Lightwing’s jaw. 

Not letting up, Batskull deploys a gas bomb of some sort to knock the pair off of him, before careening toward one of the spires on either side of the Hexgate Gazette’s massive globe fixture.

“He has a laser saw on him somewhere,” Lightwing warns, having clearly read the supervillain’s mind. “We can’t let him—”

But it’s too late. Batskull slices through the bottom of the Hexgate spire as he soars by, sending the massive comb-like structure teetering off the edge toward the busy street below.

“Go after him,” Jayce orders. “I’ve got this.”

Jayce dives through the air and manages to reach and grab one end of the spire with his super-strength. Luckily for him, Will appears out of nowhere, floating inside a stories-high construct in the shape of a human, and uses its massive hands to catch the other end. However, Aquaticman knocks Viktor into Will and shatters the construct, sending the three tumbling to who knows where and leaving the other end of the spire to fall.

Jayce considers letting it fall into the street before he notices the woman running underneath it. She’s not going to make it before the other end swings down onto her. He drops his end and speeds toward her, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her into the air out of harm’s way. Once he checks that the spire hadn’t hurt anyone, he lands on the roof of a nearby building. 

It isn’t until he sets her down that he realizes the woman he saved is Mrs. Connor. He hardly recognizes her. After all, at some point, Mrs. Connor had suddenly appeared much younger out of nowhere, and Nicholas had suddenly appeared much older. But now that he’d seen them back to back like this, he’s realizing that it seemed like their ages were mixed up or swapped, dark hair to gray hair, wrinkles to smooth skin. Had Viktor made a mistake at some point? Was he losing control? Or was this just another way Viktor had transformed people’s entire lives to fit his little story?

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Jayce asked Mrs. Connor once they were safely on the roof.

“Yes,” she huffed. “Thank you for saving me, as always, Jayce.”

She didn’t look well, however. Her youthful limbs hung with elderly exhaustion.

“Are you sure? You don’t look your best.”

“I’m just tired. Having to be saved all the time really takes it out of you, I suppose. How many times is that now?”

Jayce’s breathing hitches. It’s been an unreasonable amount of times, and all for Viktor’s little game that Jayce had to keep pretending wasn’t suffocating all of them.

“I’m so sorry you’ve been in so many perilous situations.”

“I can only be grateful you’ve saved me each time,” she tries to smile, but she says the words like they’re a mandate, not her true feelings.

Had Viktor really dressed an old woman up in a young body and forced her to go through all this?

“Until the next one.”

She walks away, and Jayce launches into the air, but he can’t escape the guilt. This had to be torture for her. For all of them. He really couldn’t let this nonsense go on much longer, but the constant emergencies were sure a great way to keep Jayce here. Jayce couldn’t tell if Viktor was doing it to stop him from carrying out his plan, or just out of sheer codependency. Speaking of which…

“Jayce, help!” Viktor shouts as he and Aquaticman crash into him, dousing Jayce with water and sending the three of them tumbling through the air. Viktor steers them telekinetically enough that Jayce can grab onto a building and steady them.

Aquaticman knocks the couple off him with the butt of his spear almost immediately, hitting Jayce hard in the stomach. Hovering in the air, he grunts as he ducks and weaves around the jabs of Aquaticman’s spear, while Viktor holds off a torrent of water being launched toward him with a telekinetic shield.

But Aquaticman tires quickly, especially after Jayce gets a few hits in with his hammer, and raises his net launcher gun instead.

“By my count, you only have one net left,” Viktor taunts. “Who’s it going to be?”

The fish man hesitates and points the barrel back and forth between the two of them before firing toward Jayce. Viktor stretches out his arm, and the net never reaches him. It’s left floating in front of him thanks to the power of Viktor’s mind. While Viktor holds it taught telekinetically, Jayce grabs the other end of the net and circles Aquaticman, moving through the air at lightning speed as he wraps him up tight.

“It was a trick question,” Jayce gibes. “We would have gotten you either way.”

Viktor holds the supervillain up by the net and shakes his head.

“Your reign of terror is over, Aquaticman,” Viktor declares, and Jayce can’t help but scoff at the notion that Aquaticman is the one doing any reigning around here.

“I’ll take him in to Caitlyn,” Viktor decides. “You keep things under control over here.”

Jayce nods and Viktor zips away, leaving Jayce alone to clean up the streets and make sure everyone’s okay. Right when he decides to check on the boys’ progress against Batskull, the twins swoop in and land in front of him.

“Dad, he’s dead,” Will says with terror in his voice.

“Batskull?”

“No,” Leo clarifies dully. “He’s tied up and Vi’s taking care of him. But while we were restraining him, a flurry of rubble from the building came down on us, and it lethally struck a civilian we were protecting from Batskull.”

Will grabs his dark hair. “I made a wall to block it but I missed, I just missed—”

“I should have swooped in and snatched him out from under there, but I was too focused on keeping Batskull restrained. An unforgivable failure on my part.”

“We’ve never lost someone in the field before,” Will almost whispers. “And it was our fault.”

“No,” Jayce growls. “No, it’s not.”

This is all someone’s fault, all of this, and it’s not the twins.

“Of course it is, we were—”

“Boys,” Jayce interrupts. “Did this really happen?”

“What do you mean?” Will asks.

“Did this actually, truly, happen, or is this just your father? Is this just the game? The story?”

Will looks to Leo with confusion in his eyes, but Leo keeps his eyes trained on Jayce.

“Yes,” Leo pleads. “It did.”

“Show me.”

Leo lifts his wings, Will raises his bracelet, and Jayce holds up his hammer, and the three of them launch through the air, Jayce following the twins' lead. They show him to the side of a building, where Officer Vi is monitoring the scene.

And there in the rubble is a man lying dead, and while his children look to him, Jayce can only stare with pure fear.

It isn’t long until Viktor flies up beside them.

Will is crying now. “I’ve never lost someone before. Neither has Leo. This can’t—”

His voice breaks, and so does Jayce’s heart.

“You can fix anything, can’t you, father?” Will realizes, turning to Viktor with desperation. “Fix this. Bring him back to life.”

“What?” Viktor reels. “No. Even if I could, I can’t—”

“Why not?” Leo asks, genuinely confused.

“There are rules in life,” Viktor insists, putting his arm around Will and his hand on Leo’s shoulder. He almost looks like he’s steadying himself rather than comforting them, however. His voice shakes as he says every word slowly and carefully. “We can’t reverse death, no matter how unjust or sad it is. No matter how much it hurts.”

Viktor looks up at Jayce with tears in his eyes, and Jayce just stares back blankly. He feels a guilt he can’t explain. A recognition or sympathy he can’t explain. It’s unsettling. It’s all so familiar, and it’s all so far away.

Viktor wipes his tears and forces a smile. “Some things are forever.”

Jayce has no idea if Viktor even believes what he’s saying. Viktor had long since made himself a hypocrite, but he can’t be sure. It’s hard to tell what’s real anymore.

The only thing he knows is real is his love for Viktor, and perhaps that’s what scares him most.

He should comfort the boys, but he can’t bring himself to. It feels too personal, too close to his heart.

Besides, the fight is over now. He needs to get out of here. Out of Piltover. He needs to find out what’s going on and get help.

“Time for me to head out,” he tells Viktor, kissing him on the cheek.

“How come?”

“I was going to leave before this whole fiasco started, remember. I’m chasing a story for the Gazette.”

“Can you not stay a little longer?”

“I’m late enough already.”

“But I don’t understand, this wasn’t what you were supposed to—”

When Jayce widens his eyes and tilts his head, Viktor catches himself, left without anything to say.

Jayce gestures to their sons and the dead man.

“Help them with this, please.”

Jayce steps back, and looks over to his sons as he starts to walk away.

Leo gives Jayce a strange, mournful look. Jayce has no doubt that Leo had overheard some thoughts in Jayce’s head earlier. He looks worried for his father, but also sympathetic, and keeps his mouth shut.

Whether he knows what Jayce is planning or is just still messed up from the man they’d failed to save, Jayce can’t be sure. But he has his suspicions.

Part of him wants to confide in his sons. They might be the only ones who can truly understand what he feels, the contradiction of his love and confusing existence. But he cares about them too much to bring them into this. This is his path, and his path alone.

My name is Will Talis, better known as Blacklight.

My name is Leo Talis, alias Lightwing.

With the help of my focusing Hex Bracelet, I can create shadow-like constructs of anything I can imagine. They just project out of my bracelet into existence, limited only by my imagination and determination. Although, I can’t really do two at once. I can usually only manage it for a few seconds.

I have wings beneath my arms that do more than let me fly. They glow and reflect light, and if the light hits you, I can sense you and see your most basic emotions and thoughts. But if you look at me while they’re out, I can completely read your mind and your memories. Maybe even control it. I’m still tinkering with that part.

My favorite part about being a superhero is the strength it gives my spirit. This line of work helps me become better, stronger, and smarter every day.

The best perk of being a superhero is the glory. The admiration. Knowing that you are the one who changed someone’s life for the better.

But with all the craziness that comes with our super-powered lives, it feels like they’ve gone by so fast and I can’t stand it.

Well, we haven’t been superheroes very long.

Dude, can you stop reading my mind?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leo replies.

“You said that out loud,” Will grins.

“Shit.”

Stop looking at me then.

Will shivers, as he always does when Leo speaks to him telepathically, but smiles. He liked having his own special way to communicate with his twin brother.

You’re standing right next to me. It’s hard to keep you out of my periphery.

“Ugh,” Leo whines snootily, trying and failing not to roll his eyes.

“This mind-reading thing you two do always freaks me out a bit,” Sky nervously giggles.

“Sorry Auntie Sky,” Will intones. “He’s just being annoying.”

Sky continues the training session she’s currently leading them in, having taken it upon herself to help cheer them up after their earlier failure. Just thinking about that poor dead man makes Will want to vomit. Sky’s been launching clouds of objects at the boys, forcing Will to summon creative means of hitting them away and Leo to dodge and redirect them with his wings. Here in the backyard, it feels good to transform his sadness into aggression like this.

“Make yourself strong,” Sky calmly instructs Will as she launches shards of glass toward them. “Don’t let them shake your confidence.”

Will summons a suit of armor around him to punch it all away.

“Be conscious of every part of your body,” Sky tells Leo as she switches to a cloud of dust. “Even if you can’t see, know every move you are making.”

As Sky shifts to a cloud of small, hard rubber balls, Will swaps between his suit of armor and all sorts of melee weapons to smash them away, imagining beating up Batskull for what he caused to happen. Will is screaming and growling into his punches when someone else walks in.

“That’s enough,” Viktor’s voice booms. “Sky, can’t you see that you’re only upsetting them more?”

“Sorry,” Sky replies feebly. “I sometimes get too caught up in treating people like projects.”

“Join me, boys,” Viktor gestures toward the house. “You go back to school tomorrow, so let’s make the most of this time we have together. Movie?”

“I’m in,” Leo agrees before Will can say anything. “He is too.”

They find an already-started cheap superhero movie on one of the channels, and gather around the little square screen to watch it. Sky joins them soon after, and they all make fun of all the goofs and laugh about the differences between being a superhero in the movie and in real life. It’s nice.

Once the movie’s over, Viktor turns to his sons with pitying eyes. The events of the day come flooding back to Will, but they hurt less now. Although he does wish Dad were here with them.

“I told you that death is forever, and it is the truth,” Viktor reminds them. “But family is also forever. We are forever.”

“And I’m always here for you guys, too,” Sky chimes in. Will catches a slight wince in Viktor’s face that he doesn’t understand. It’s moments like these he wishes he had Leo’s power. But then he makes an extended arm to grab a bag of snacks from the kitchen and knows he wouldn’t trade that.

Viktor wraps his arm around Will and pats Leo’s head, and Will wants to feel embarrassed that his father is doing this, but it’s really sweet, too.

“This family will always have each other.”

I can’t shake my nerves as I hurriedly walk Piltover’s streets, deciding not to fly to avoid too much attention.

It seems to be working so far.

I’m heading south, which, as far as I can gleam, is the only direction where Piltover isn’t bordered by water.

I need to see outside. I need to see if there is an outside.

After enough walking that Jayce starts to wonder if the city ever ends, he finally spots what appears to be the end of the buildings in the distance. As he rushes forward, someone waves to him. He politely returns the wave and continues. But then the woman waves again.

And again.

And again.

In an endless loop. Like an automaton. Or a golem in a factory.

The next person he spots is wiping their window, over and over again, their face blank. Their skin is pale and gaunt, simultaneously stretched too tight and hanging too loose, as if they were melting. Jayce can’t look anymore. Can’t get distracted. He just rushes forward toward the clearing where the buildings thin out and grass spreads in all directions.

He spots something moving in the corner of his eye, something moving way too fast. The few and far between buildings out here are all abandoned, so the sight unsettles him. For a moment he wonders if he imagined it, but then there’s a blur of brown and gray streaking across the hills, like a vehicle speeding way faster than could possibly be safe.

With no one around, Jayce calls his hammer to his hand and activates his powers, taking off flying toward whatever the thing is. From above he can see the circle it’s moving in, almost certain now that it’s something running in a circle…like a crazed animal.

Jayce descends quickly and lands right in the creature’s path, forcing the familiar shape to stop and stare at him.

“Hi, Vander. We just can’t stop running into each other, can we?”

The beast stares for a long moment, before its hair recedes, its muscles shift, and it transforms back into a man. He doesn’t say anything, but he looks pained.

“Are you alright?” Jayce asks.

“Out here things are even worse. I have to keep moving or I’ll be like a statue, like all of them over there.”

He gestures toward the edge of the town, and Jayce is reminded of how uncannily still everyone had been this far out.

“I should be dead. You should be, too.”

“What?”

“You’re dead. Or you’re supposed to be. I can feel it. Maybe we all are.”

“No, no, no,” Jayce decides. “Don’t give up on me. I’m trying to find the way out of this thing. I can help you get away from here.”

Vander gives him a toothy smile.

“You really are a hero.”

Jayce wants to vomit.

“I try,” he manages as guilt he doesn’t even fully understand eats him alive. “Follow me.”

It’s completely dark by the time Jayce spots the shimmering in the air, snakes of what looks like reality itself slithering in a sponge-like pattern from the ground to the far reaches of the sky. A barrier. A massive bubble around the city.

“What do we do?” Vander asks as they approach.

“What else is there to do? We go through.”

Without hesitation, Jayce reaches his hand into the web of light, but the flesh-like projection resists him greatly. Even with his super strength, the effort is untenable.

“Can we pass through?” Vander asks.

“We should be able to. But I think we should get a running start. The momentum should be helpful.”

“I’ll shift to wolf form, too. I’m stronger that way.”

Jayce nods, and the pair moves to line up some couple dozen meters from the wall. Jayce brandishes his hammer, and Vander transforms into wolf form. They hold each other's gaze for a long moment. Before Jayce can let his anxiety grow too distracting, he nods, and the pair take off toward the barrier.

Despite the fact that Jayce is flying, Vander’s enhanced running still carries him faster. Jayce winces as the wolf man reaches the wall first, but feels a millisecond of relief when he passes through it like a knife through butter. Jayce braces himself to pass through the barrier, but when he collides with it, it is as solid as concrete. Jayce is flung backward twenty meters, and his vision goes black as he crashes onto the grass.

Something is very wrong. I can sense it.

My brain is a constant flurry of words, thoughts, and memories, even when my wings aren’t out and my telepathic powers aren’t activated, but this is a whole other phenomenon.

Someone is in trouble, and I have a strong suspicion of who.

My brother is looking at me strangely. Even if I couldn’t read his mind, I’d know he’s onto me. He knows I know something.

But he’s not the one I need to tell.

“Father!” I yell as I approach him and Sky sitting and talking on a couch.

“Is everything alright?” Sky asks. “You seem quite worried. I could—”

“Not the time,” Leo snaps before training his eyes on Viktor. “I don’t know how I know, I shouldn’t be able to know, but dad’s in trouble, overcome by agony somewhere out there.”

“Jayce,” Viktor mutters in fear. “Leo, go outside, do a city-wide scan with your wings.”

Leo nods, races out the door, and extends his wings, flapping as he soars into the sky. Once he’s high enough, he makes his wings glow, brighter and brighter like a newborn star, until there’s not a locked safe anywhere in the city that the light couldn’t penetrate. He has to hope no one will go blind, but that’s the least of his worries. He has to find his dad.

But he can’t. He feels every mind in the city, senses every single person that his light touches, but Jayce isn’t one of them. 

Leo feels the flood of Viktor’s mind open up to him, meaning his father is looking at him now.

He’s not here, Leo relays to Viktor telepathically. If he was here, I would feel him. I know it. He couldn’t escape my light.

Leo lowers the intensity of his wings' glow for safety, keeping his light at a level where it can reach anyone not inside a building while he waits for Viktor’s instruction.

He’s outside, Viktor thinks in response, and Leo only just catches it before his father turns away. 

Viktor’s staff flies into his hand. With a spin and a flash of light, Viktor transforms into the Arcane Herald, though without his mask, and flies upward, stretching out his hands and his staff.

Viktor closes his eyes, and something shifts in the air. Leo doesn’t know what Viktor’s doing or how he’s doing it, but he can feel the result.

Their home is expanding. And he can feel his dad. Jayce is now back inside the boundaries Viktor told him and Will never to cross. 

And soon enough, an entire base of people on the other side of a bridge has joined the fray. Hundreds of new souls glow in Leo’s mind, growing every second until Leo hears an exhale next to him and the expansion suddenly stops.

Leo looks to his father.

Viktor’s callous eyes open, and all is as it should be.