18 Lover/Friend

I stand in the dreamscape, the air thick with the scent of familiar things—the polished wood of the grand hall, the flickering candlelight on the stone walls. The echoes of laughter drift through the air, faint but real, as I look around. I'm home. In Noxus, with my family. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I can almost feel the warmth of love around me.

My father is in his finest suit, his dark eyes shining with pride as he looks over at us. My mother, ever the elegant figure, beams at us in her intricate robes. And there, by her side, stands my brother—young and full of life, like I remember him. His eyes are bright, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

We're all here, together, in this moment of peace. The kind of peace I only ever get to glimpse in my dreams.

Father smiles at us. "Tonight, we shall enjoy a musical play from one of Ionia's finest musicians. A treat for the entire family," he says, his voice rich with love and indulgence. There's a sense of extravagance in the air, a feeling of warmth that comes from being together, enjoying the simple pleasure of one another's company.

I feel my chest tighten. These are the moments I cherish—the only times when everything was right. When everything felt like it belonged, like I belonged. My heart aches with the memories of what was once so familiar.

The music begins, soft and melodic, drifting through the air, filling the space with warmth. It's beautiful. The performance is everything I imagined, a perfect reflection of the world I used to know, the world I thought I'd lost.

But as I lose myself in the music, my mother turns to me, her gaze cold and serious. Her smile is gone, replaced by an unspoken weight in her eyes.

"You should go back, don't you think?" she says, her voice quiet but firm.

"Mother, what are you talking about?" I ask, a sense of confusion creeping into my bones. She looks at me with an unreadable expression, something darker in her eyes now, like a shadow passing over her.

"A wolf doesn't leave their pact behind," she says again, her voice carrying a finality that feels like a closing door.

I feel my heart beat faster. I want to speak, to argue, to ask her why. But the words don't come. Instead, I stare at her, this woman who gave me life, who shaped me into what I am today. Her eyes bore into mine, holding me in place as if she expects me to understand something I'm not ready for. I don't know what she means. A wolf? A pact? What does it all mean?

Suddenly, the dreamscape begins to distort, the warm colors and familiar faces warping and twisting. The music fades, replaced by a horrible screeching noise that fills my ears. The walls of the room crack and shift, the world dissolving into a mess of fragmented images, blurring together like a painting smeared by rain.

My mother's face shifts into something unrecognizable, her expression darkening with every passing second. The figures of my family break apart and fade, the warmth turning to cold emptiness.

I can't breathe. I try to speak, to cry out, but no sound escapes my lips. Everything is gone, slipping away as the world crumbles around me.

I try to hold on to it, to the warmth, to the family I once had, but it slips through my fingers, leaving me with nothing but the void.

Then, everything goes black.

I wake up with a start, gasping for air. My body is tense, covered in a cold sweat. My mind is racing, heart pounding in my chest. The remnants of the dream linger in my thoughts, like a haunting whisper I can't escape. I feel disoriented, like I've been pulled out of something and thrown into another world.

The room is dim, the afternoon sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting thin slivers of light across the floor. It's quiet here. Too quiet. My eyes flick around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. I'm not at home. This isn't Noxus.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, but it's hard to shake the weight of the dream—the sense of loss, of something unfinished. Of my mother's words, hanging in the air like an unresolved question.

I try to sit up, but pain shoots through my body, sharp and sudden. I wince, feeling the sting of new injuries beneath the surface. My hands tremble as I reach for the bandages wrapped around my arms, my fingers grazing over the fresh scars that line my skin. The battle. The fight. It all comes rushing back in an instant.

My eyes move to the chair beside me.

Sevika is there, sleeping soundly, her head resting against the back of the chair. She looks peaceful, her face relaxed in a way I've never seen before. There are battle scars on her too, fresh cuts and bruises, but she's alive. She's here, and that's all that matters right now.

I push myself to sit up a little more, but the movement is sluggish, my muscles protesting. I'm weak, and for a moment, I wonder how much time has passed since the fight. How long have I been unconscious?

I glance back at Sevika, feeling a sense of relief that she's still here. Still with me. She promised me she'd be right behind me. I promised her the same. And we made it. We're still alive.

I reach out, my fingers brushing against her arm gently. She stirs slightly but doesn't wake.

"Sevika," I whisper, my voice rough from disuse. She doesn't respond. I try again, this time tapping her arm more firmly.

"Sevika," I say, a little louder. My heart skips when she finally stirs fully, blinking her eyes open slowly. Her gaze locks onto mine, and the worry in her eyes hits me like a wave.

"Mel," she breathes, her voice thick with relief. "You're awake."

I try to smile, but it feels weak, like it's not enough to convey everything I'm feeling right now. The relief, the exhaustion, the worry.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her hand moving to touch my cheek, her fingers soft but cautious, as though she's afraid I might break if she touches me too roughly.

"I'm fine," I reply, but my words feel hollow. I can feel the sharp ache in my body, the weight of the scars left by the battle. I'm not fine. But I'm here. And so is she.

Sevika looks at me with that intense gaze of hers, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I thought I lost you, Mel. I thought—" She cuts herself off, shaking her head like she's trying to push the thought away. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her jaw. She's trying to hide it, but I know. I can see it in the way her eyes flicker with something deeper, something darker.

I take her hand, holding it tightly in mine. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She doesn't say anything, just looks at me for a moment longer before nodding. Then, her expression softens, and she lets out a long, quiet breath. She leans forward, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead, a small gesture that holds more meaning than I could ever explain.