Chapter Text
“Viktor!”
Siria poked her head outside of her home, looking around for her brother. “I found something for us to eat.”
Viktor appeared from behind a boulder, giving her a small smile as he limped over to the small, broken down shack where they lived. She held the door open until he was inside, then let it fall shut behind them. It was wintertime, and their home was cold enough already, without leaving the door open. She’d learned to keep the place as warm as possible, otherwise her brother’s health would be noticeably worse for the next week. He’d never asked her to, but she knew that they had to keep an eye on each other otherwise they wouldn’t make it. She was still young, but she already knew a lot about surviving in the undercity.
“What did you find?” Viktor looked at her with gentle curiosity, setting down some sort of metal machinery that he’d obviously been tinkering with while he’d spent the afternoon down by the river. Their home only had two rooms in it, and Viktor’s toys and tools were covering nearly every surface of it. Sometimes Siria was surprised that she’d never found one in her bed, since it was only a few feet away from their only table in the room. They were used to living in cramped quarters, but she was starting to realize that they were running out of space. They had more screwdrivers than food in the house, even on a good day.
“Some apples! Someone was selling a few baskets of them along one of the streets. He wasn’t paying attention, so I grabbed a few and took off before anyone noticed.”
Siria pulled an apple from her pocket and held it out to Viktor, who quickly accepted. He grinned as he took a bite, the juice trickling down his chin. Down in the Fissures, it was hard to find food that wasn’t potatoes or stale bread, so fruit was always something special. Siria pulled another apple out of her pocket and started eating it as she sat down on her bed. She knew that they had a few potatoes and an onion left in the cupboard, but now that she’d found the handful of apples, she’d be able to save some of the potatoes for the next day’s meal. Stealing had never been something she was proud of, but sometimes it was necessary for them to stay alive.
“I saw some enforcers today, Siria. They’ve started spending more time around the Fissures. I want you to be more careful,” Viktor sighed. He took a few steps towards her, paused for a moment, then sat down next to her on the edge of the bed. Not even the excitement of the apples she’d found could make Viktor drop his seriousness; not even for just a moment.
Siria frowned, taking another bite of her apple before she responded. “I’m 12 years old, Viktor! I know what I’m doing. It was just a couple of apples, anyway. I’m totally fine!” She gave her brother a confident look, straightening her posture for a moment. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. It’d been a few years since they’d lost their parents, and she wasn’t the scared child that she’d been at the time of their deaths. She’d grown up a lot since the day their mine shaft had collapsed.
“Siria,” Viktor started, narrowing his eyes at his sister. “Please. For me.”
Siria huffed, rolling her eyes. “Okay,” she said, then finished off her apple. “I’ll be more careful. But I’m not going to stop stealing food, you know.”
She hopped off of the bed and tossed the apple core into their trash, then turned back towards her older brother. Viktor was always so protective, and she just wished he’d have more faith in her. She looked up to her brother, and she knew how smart he was, but she sometimes wished he’d give her more credit.
Viktor took another bite of his apple, then stretched his legs out along the mismatched wooden floor. He began massaging his left leg, the one that was always stiff and causing him pain. Siria knew that she’d been born luckier than her older brother. Ever since she was little, she could always remember him being bedridden for days at a time with a cough. Once he’d entered his twenties, his leg had started to trouble him too. She’d had her troubles with the bad air down in the Fissures, sure. Sometimes, she’d fall into a coughing fit for a few minutes, before eventually recovering. But it’d never been too bad for her, and she hoped that it didn’t get worse as she got older.
Siria grabbed the jug of water that lived on their table and poured her brother a glass, handing it to him once he looked up from his leg. “What did you work on today? You were gone all day.”
Viktor drained the cup and handed it back to her before responding. “I’m making progress on fixing our lamp. I found some parts outside of that madman’s laboratory, over in the cave that’s down the river from here. I think I’ll be able to finish it tonight, so that we can have some light again. ” He gestured at the lamp that sat in the corner of their room. Their house only had two rooms- the main room and the bathroom- and they only had one source of light for the place. It’d been broken for a few days now, so Siria was excited to have light again soon. It’d been really hard to do anything after the sun went down, and she’d had to give up on reading her book before going to bed.
“That’s great!” Siria grinned at him. “I really missed being able to read my book.”
Viktor nodded at her. He knew how much she loved reading. Not every kid in the undercity could read. In fact, Siria figured most of them probably couldn’t. But she’d grown up with a talented brother, who’d taught her when she’d been little.
Viktor had taught her a lot of things. He wanted to become a scientist someday, and Siria wasn’t sure how people became scientists in the undercity, but she figured if anyone could do it, it was her brother. He was always fixing things around their house and making new trinkets and devices. Most people probably would’ve had to go buy a new light, or pay someone else to help, but Viktor could always fix things like that by himself.
Viktor gave his leg one last stretch before he stood and grabbed the contraption he’d set on the table earlier. Then, he selected a screwdriver from the table and got to work, unscrewing parts and screwing them back in on the lamp. Siria watched for a while, then reached for the sweater that was draped across the foot of her bed.
“I’m going out for a bit longer. I might be able to find some more food before the sun goes down. And maybe by the time I’m back, we’ll have a light again,” Siria said to her brother.
“Maybe,” he offered her, then went back to work. She gave him a little wave, then slipped out the door, latching it behind her.
As Siria started to walk, she took in her surroundings. The sun was getting pretty low in the sky, but she figured she still had at least an hour before it got too dark too walk around safely in the Fissures. They didn’t get a lot of daylight down there, so she wanted to take advantage of what she could get. Besides, once the sun went down, it’d start to get dangerous in the undercity.
Siria and her brother had always lived on the outskirts of the Fissures, which technically was just downhill from Piltover, but still just as polluted as the rest of the undercity. She liked being on the outskirts, because it meant that she could choose to explore near the river, where she sometimes caught fish for them to eat, or venture further into the undercity, where she could find all sorts of interesting things.
Sometimes, Siria or Viktor would find work in the Lanes, where there were a handful of shops and businesses all lit up with neon signs at night. Siria liked going to the Lanes because that was where she sometimes found other children to talk to or play with. But she knew that there were also dangerous gangs that patrolled the Lanes, and she was always watching her back when she was down there.
Since it was still light out, Siria decided to take her chances in the Lanes. She followed a path in the dirt to the right, walking past other shacks and piles of boulders that she sometimes climbed on. There were a few other people out walking around, and Siria knew the names of some of them, but she’d never really become close with anyone. Down in the undercity, everyone was on their own at the end of the day.
Eventually, the path led away from the river and around a corner, opening up to the beginning of a road. Along the road there were some of the less popular establishments in the Lanes, stuck on the outskirts of the community. Siria walked past them, making her way further into the Lanes until the streets started to fill with people and noise. She was always dazzled by the way the Lanes could feel so lively compared to the rest of the undercity. The Fissures were always so quiet and lethargic, like Viktor, but the Lanes were bright and loud and full of energy. Sometimes, Siria wished that she’d grown up in the Lanes instead. She figured it would’ve been much more exciting.
Siria reached of the larger establishments, lit up with a warm golden sign: The Last Drop. She knew all about The Last Drop. It was the home of Vander, the Hound of the Underground, who had once led an attempted rebellion against Piltover. He’d failed, and Siria knew that many people hadn’t made it, but she’d heard people talking about how he was still the protector of the underground, even after the rebellion. He owned The Last Drop and seemed to run a tight ship, both there and around the Lanes. Siria knew better than to steal anything from his bar. But she could still sneak in and take a look, at least for a little while. It’d be more fun, and way warmer, than hanging around the river.
Siria walked over towards the entrance to the bar, trying to subtly scope out the entrance. There was a tall, strong-looking guard leaning up against one of the wooden posts that framed the doorway, with his arms crossed. He was dressed in dark, patchy clothing, in the typical underground style. Siria didn’t think she could get past him without him noticing that she didn’t belong in a bar, but she figured maybe she could sneak in behind some other people.
There were a few other bars, restaurants, and shops along the street, so Siria walked over to a shop on the other side of the street and picked a section of wall to lean against, waiting. A breeze floated through the street, and she pulled her well-worn sweater tighter against her body. Siria wasn’t as thin as her brother, but like most children in the undercity, she still had a certain frailty to her that came with the lack of food, polluted air, and dangerous conditions in the undercity. Despite the thick sweater wrapped around her, she still felt some of the cold air on her skin as the breeze swept past her.
Siria stared down at her shoes, crossing her arms over her chest. She was just starting to think about giving up and turning around to head back home when she saw a couple of women walking down the street towards The Last Drop. Perfect. Siria pulled her hood up over her head and quickly fell in line a few steps behind them in the street. The women reached the guard outside the door and he gave them a smile.
“Lovely to see you both again,” he grinned, then tilted his head to the side, his eyes falling onto Siria. Uh oh. “Is this girl with you?”
The women both spun around, noticing Siria. The taller one frowned at her, narrowing her eyes. “No, she isn’t. You should go home; this place isn’t for children.”
Siria stood up a little taller before answering. “I’m old enough! I’m not going to buy anything, anyway.”
The guard shook his head, chuckling. “Doesn’t matter. Beat it, kid.”
Siria sighed, then turned her back on The Last Drop. She’d have to figure out something else to do with the rest of her day. She dodged a few people on the street and decided to keep making her way further down into the Lanes, at least for a few more minutes.
She walked past a food stall selling seafood in cheese sauce, and her stomach growled at the intense savory, greasy smell. Occasionally, Siria and Viktor would have enough money to be able to afford a meal out, and they’d get dinner at a stall like this one. She faltered for a second, considering the idea of swiping a snack from the stall in front of her. Her stomach rumbled again, but she just sighed and kept walking. She was still too close to The Last Drop to do anything risky.
After another few minutes of walking, Siria came across another food stall. This one was selling potatoes. Now that was something she could really use. Siria licked her lips and stalked over to the stall. The attendant was busy reorganizing heads of lettuce along the other side of the stall, so Siria waited for the man to turn his back then darted in, crouching down as she reached the shelves of the stall. She spent half a second eyeing the shelves. Then, she grabbed two handfuls of potatoes, stuffed them into her pockets, and turned to run. The attendant didn’t even see her, but she still knew she’d have to get away quickly.
Siria was so focused on getting away from the stall without being noticed that as she went to turn a corner into an alleyway, she ran face first into something hard. She stumbled backwards, and looked up, meeting the eyes of a tall, dirty young man.
“And where do you think you’re going with those?” He asked, putting his hands on his hips as he stared down at her. He looked to be somewhere between her and her brother’s age, with a face full of stubble and dirt and grease covering his clothes. He was probably working in the mines; maybe the same place where Siria’s parents had once worked before they’d died in a collapsing tunnel. Siria knew that the mine workers were usually physically strong, but their lungs were weak. She could try fighting him if she needed to.
“I need them more than he does, and it’s none of your business,” she quipped, waiting anxiously to see how he reacted. The man rolled his eyes at her.
“Whatever. Just give them to me, and I’ll leave you in one piece.” He stretched his arms out and cracked a knuckle, smirking at her.
Siria took a step back. Maybe… she was a bit in over her head. She wasn’t sure what to do.
“No,” she breathed, taking another step back. Maybe she could get out of there and keep the potatoes. If she got even a scratch on her, Siria knew she’d never hear the end of it from Viktor. But she had to be strong.
The man took a step towards her, then without warning, swung his arm out and grabbed onto her collar. His hand wrapped around the side of her neck, and she felt her heart panic. Siria grabbed onto his arm with both of her hands, grasping at his sleeves unsuccessfully. She couldn’t get him to let go of her, so she decided to change tactics and threw her best punch into his chest. The man let out a cough, and she felt his grip falter. Siria jerked backwards, and felt his hand leave her neck. She turned to run, but before she could take a step, the man swiped outwards again, this time grabbing her shoulders and throwing her against the wall.
Siria felt the breath get knocked out of her body, which was just what she was trying to do to him a moment ago. She yelped, swinging her arms wildly trying to land a hit on his body. She made a couple before he threw his hand into her stomach. Siria felt the impact and immediately gagged, falling into a coughing fit.
“Let me go!” She shouted, spitting towards his sharp face. Siria tried wriggling out of his grip once again, but she couldn’t get anywhere. Suddenly, she heard the scuffle of boots nearby.
“What’s going on here?”
The man dropped Siria immediately, and she crumpled onto the ground. A pair of enforcers stepped into view, one twirling his baton in his gloved hands. Siria stayed quiet. She knew she wasn’t in any situation to speak, if she wanted to make it back home safely. She’d have to do her best to seem harmless to the enforcers, or else they might get her in trouble too. Luckily, her attacker spoke up.
“Just dealing with this little street rat,” he sneered at them, brushing his hands against his pants. “She took something from me.”
Siria furrowed her brows, curling her arms closer to her body. “No I didn’t! He’s lying!”
The enforcers looked at each other, then both reached their hands down to grab cuffs from their belts. “Seems to me like you’re both street rats that need to be dealt with.”
The man suddenly took a step forward and swung his fist out towards the closer enforcer. It hit the enforcer’s jaw with a sickening snap, and Siria leapt up to run.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the second enforcer snapped, lunging towards her and pulling both of her arms behind her back in one sharp movement. She screamed as her arms were twisted painfully into the cuffs.
“I didn’t do anything!” She cried, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle out of the cuffs. She’d never been handcuffed before, but it really hurt.
“That’s what you trenchers always say, but you’re always trouble. This place’ll be better off with you behind bars for a few years,” the enforcer said, tugging her towards him. The second enforcer had started to beat the man with his baton, and Siria watched as the man fell against the wall with a thud.
“Okay, okay, I’m done, please” he pleaded, and the other enforcer tucked his baton into his belt and roughly handcuffed the other man. The enforcer pulled him to his feet, then turned to the other cop.
“Well, that was an easy day. Let’s get these two topside.”
The enforcers forced Siria and the man in front of them, and they started walking. Siria wasn’t sure what to do. She figured maybe she could wait and see what happened next, then find some way to escape later. As long as she got free before they took her to prison. Siria had heard about Stillwater, and some of the smaller prisons, that were found around the outskirts of Piltover. She knew escaping was nearly impossible. She just hoped she’d be able to figure something out before it was too late. She didn’t want her brother to worry.