Chapter Text
The fires aren't world ending, but the flames licking their way across the reeds beside the river don't make it obvious. Blood muddies the water and Usan's small group of ex-Kinkou don't bother to dredge up the bodies, Noxian and Ionian alike.
It was a small skirmish all things considered. Violence boils in Usan's veins the more he thinks about it. No honour, no foe to truly test his skills on, just a bunch of Noxian children armed with small weaponry and hopelessly weak Ionian farmers to be cut down. There was no sense to this.
Despite that, the heat burns his cheeks as he wanders the riverbank in search of survivors. The Ionians they'd leave for the Kinkou or any other medics in the area, after some first aid of course, but Usan wanted the Noxian commander. If there even was one. What kind of person could send children no older than nine or ten into war like this...
A yell drags him out of his thoughts. He glances over to one of his allies, whom nods back at him, and they surge forward into the nearby brush; weapons drawn, hopeful that it's the commander.
Instead they find a young child wrestling with another of his men; bloody fury on its face and a dagger in its hands. Mercy is a luxury they cannot afford; Usan grabs the child's hands, uncaring of the serrated edge digging into his gloves, giving the man on the floor enough time to knee the child's stomach and roll free. The child struggles like a wounded animal in his grasp despite the coughing and pained wheezing. Murderer, his mind echoes, as he releases one hand to grap the feral thing by its neck and pin it to the ground.
"You okay?" His voice is rough from the smoke.
"Yeah..." The man is visibly shaken and bears a cut on his forearm but its clearly not life threatening. Usan's knowing eyes can tell he was lucky that the child was untrained and the knife didn't find its rightful way to his neck. "Kid jumped out of the tree, I didn't hear a thing. I think that's the last of them. All we've found otherwise is corpses."
Usan nods and looks back down at the child who is still straining against his hold. He switches to Noxian when he speaks.
"Where is your leader?"
His tone is hard and cold but the young child, probably around seven or eight years old if he had to guess, glares at him from where their head is pressed against the dirt. Now that the immediate danger is gone he can get a proper look at them. Clearly the Noxians didn't deem their younger soldiers worthy of any decent gear, though he's sure noone would make it in sizes so small. The serrated dagger seems like the only possession of note; its wicked edge gleams with gore. Their clothes are now muddy, torn, and wet with blood; their hair has been shorn leaving only a shock of black fuzz on their scalp.
The child does not respond. Usan grimaces.
"What are we supposed to do with this..."
The two ninja stood around him grimace in turn.
They end up taking the child back to their temporary base, an abandoned mansion on the edge of where the conflict broke out. It's not pretty with its scorched wooden supports and floors, some rooms are inaccessable entirely, but it's shelter from the elements and most importantly the Kinkou wouldn't accidentally find them here. The cowards would never go this far into the warzone.
They have no idea what to do with the child. They decided to keep them locked in a room at the back of the mansion, fed and clothed, but the thing speaks no Ionian and speaks Noxian only to hiss and panic when anyone gets close. Keeping them at this temporary hideout is obviously not a great idea, but what else can they do?
Shi meets him in his room a few days after they return.
"Usan."
He turns from his maps and letters to look at her closing the door shut behind her. She's begun to wear a mask outside lately but it's nowhere in sight for now, leaving her haggard and tired face in plain view. Usan already knows what she will say. He sighs and rubs his forehead; he trusts her enough to show weakness, as she does him.
Her lips quirk upwards.
"I'm not here to bother you about that again, yet." The mirth vanishes as soon as it came. "She'd calmed down enough that I tried to bathe her earlier-"
"Her?"
"Yes, the child. As soon as I discovered it she became inconsolable and I had no choice but to knock her unconscious" Shi holds her arm out and pulls the sleeve up, revealing deep bite marks. "I was wondering if you could... try again?"
Usan frowns. "What do you mean?"
"She seems to respect you in a way. If you could try talking to her again or... I don't know. Something must be done. I understand there's no good answer to this but we can't keep a child here and we can't just leave her in the middle of nowhere. If you can get her to cooperate... she'd make a good addition to our ranks."
Shi's eyes are cold when she looks back at him.
He doesn't respond immediately. The suggestion feels like a punch in the face but he can't deny its truth.
"I... see what you're saying." He turns back to his maps.
"Just think on it, that's all I ask. Ysdra and I will support whatever choice you make."
"Thank you." His heart is heavy but he means it, truly.
Usan doesn't look back to see the door being softly opened and closed again, leaving him alone in the heavy atmosphere of his dilemma. He holds his head in his hands.
He visits the child a few days later. He could lie to himself and say it was to give the child time to cool off but it wouldn't change the truth that it was because he didn't want to. By training the child and turning them on their masters he would be no better than Noxus, but the sweet irony... the anger stewing within him knew nothing would be sweeter. Anything to protect Ionia... anything.
He unlocks and opens the door with newfound fire in his veins. Usan would not show his weakness here.
Piercing yellow eyes stare at him from across the room. They'd dressed the child in Ionian clothing to replace the ruined ones they'd found them in and its not like the room was a prison cell. There was a bathroom attached and a bed several sizes too large for such a small creature; probably nicer than anything they'd gotten back in Noxus, Usan thought bitterly.
"Hey." Awkward. He grimaced. "Feel like talking yet?"
No response. Just those eyes boring into him. He vaguely wondered if this was how people felt when he was a kid too.
He decided to try a different angle, any kind of answer was good even if it was hostile.
"Why'd they send a little girl all the way out here?"
"I'm not a girl!" The fury from the riverbank had made a reappearance. Usan had never seen that look on anyone so young before, but the words struck him silent. He understood this anger.
In a world long gone now, when a slave girl forced to work her fingers to the bone pleaded and begged for her mother to understand, a world where someone had reached out and said 'Govos is a boy.' He'd treated Govos with the sweetest kindness he'd ever felt, that he would ever feel. He'd left Govos extra food where his mother had given him none. He'd gotten into fights with acolytes who didn't respect Govos. He'd made Govos' life change from a miserable hell into something worth being alive for.
Usan slides to the floor. "What's your name, boy?"
The little boy looks miserable. "I don't know."