Arcane: Ekko and Powder

Ambessa Medarda woke to the sound of cawing ravens. Their cries echoed in the dimly lit chamber, the shadows cast by flickering torches playing tricks on her mind. She blinked, her head pounding as she tried to piece together what had happened. The last thing she remembered was Ekko standing over her, his weapon raised, victory in his grasp—only for a shadowy crow to snatch her away.

As her vision cleared, Ambessa's gaze fell upon a figure seated across the room, his silhouette imposing despite his calm demeanor. Jericho Swain, the Grand General of Noxus, was unmistakable. His crimson cloak draped over his broad shoulders, and his demonic arm pulsed faintly with an eerie, otherworldly glow. His eyes, one of which glowed an unnatural red, regarded her with quiet intensity.

"You're awake," Swain said, his voice low and gravelly, carrying the weight of authority. "Good. We have much to discuss."

Ambessa sat up slowly, her body aching from the battle. "Swain," she said, her tone sharp despite her weakened state. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Ionia?"

Swain's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Ionia can wait. Darkwill's obsession with immortality has left the empire vulnerable. I've come back to set things right."

Ambessa's brow furrowed. "And rescuing me was part of this... plan?"

Swain stood, his movements deliberate as he approached her. The ravens perched around the room seemed to follow him, their beady eyes glinting in the torchlight. "You are still useful, Ambessa. Despite your failure to crush Piltover and Zaun, you are a Medarda. Your influence runs deep, and your strength, when wielded properly, is an asset to Noxus."

Ambessa scoffed, though her expression betrayed a flicker of doubt. "I was defeated. My army scattered. What use could I possibly be now?"

Swain's glowing eye seemed to pierce through her, as if reading the secrets of her soul. "Defeat is merely a lesson. You are alive because I will it, and because Noxus still has need of you."

Ambessa's pride bristled, but she held her tongue, studying the man before her. Swain had always been a figure shrouded in mystery, even among Noxians. Rumors of his exile, his miraculous recovery, and his newfound powers were whispered in hushed tones throughout the empire. Now, seeing him up close, she could feel the weight of his presence—a force that was both human and something far darker.

"What happened to you?" she asked finally, her voice quieter now. "The last I heard, you were left for dead in Ionia."

Swain's expression hardened, and his demonic arm flexed instinctively. "Boram Darkwill sent me to die," he said, his voice laced with venom. "His greed for immortality blinded him to the true threats facing Noxus. But I survived. I saw through the lies of LeBlanc and uncovered the darkness that has plagued this empire for centuries."

He gestured to his arm, the twisted, clawed appendage that radiated raw power. "Raum," he said simply. "An ancient entity. It preys on the dying, consuming their secrets. But I am no ordinary victim. I bent it to my will, and now its power is mine to command."

Ambessa stared at him, her disbelief warring with a growing sense of awe. "And you intend to use this... power to overthrow Darkwill?"

Swain's smirk returned, though it was colder this time. "Darkwill is already dead."

Ambessa's eyes widened. "You killed him?"

"Not directly," Swain admitted. "But his reign was short-lived once I returned. The Black Rose—LeBlanc's cult—thought they could manipulate me as they did him. They were wrong."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Noxus has been ruled by cowards and sycophants for too long. It is time for true strength to guide us. Strength born of unity, not division."

Ambessa frowned, her mind racing. Swain's vision for Noxus was bold, even by Medarda standards. But it was also dangerous. "And where do I fit into this grand vision of yours?"

Swain straightened, his gaze never leaving hers. "You are a Medarda. Your influence in Piltover and your ties to Zaun make you invaluable. The Hextech that Piltover has developed could tip the balance of power in their favor if left unchecked. You will help me ensure that doesn't happen."

Ambessa's pride flared again, but she couldn't deny the logic in his words. "And if I refuse?"

Swain's smile was chilling. "You won't."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. A Noxian soldier entered the chamber, saluting crisply. "Grand General, the scouts report no sign of pursuit from Piltover or Zaun."

Swain nodded dismissively before turning back to Ambessa. "You see? Even in victory, they are weak. They do not yet understand the cost of defiance."

Ambessa crossed her arms, her mind working furiously. "Piltover and Zaun may be fractured, but they are not weak. Ekko... that boy is stronger than you realize."

Swain's expression darkened. "I have heard of Ekko and his Firelights. They are resourceful, yes, but they are also young and inexperienced. Their time will come."

Ambessa hesitated, then decided to take a gamble. "He nearly killed me, Swain. If you think he'll be an easy target, you're a fool."

To her surprise, Swain chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "You misunderstand me, Ambessa. I do not underestimate him. In fact, I welcome the challenge. Noxus is at its strongest when it faces worthy foes."

As the conversation drew to a close, Swain gestured for the soldier to leave them. He turned back to Ambessa, his expression unreadable. "Rest, Medarda. You will need your strength for what comes next."

Ambessa watched him go, her thoughts a whirlwind of anger, fear, and reluctant respect. Swain was not the man she had known before his exile. He was something far more dangerous—and perhaps far more powerful.

As she lay back on the cot provided for her, the cawing of ravens echoing in the distance, Ambessa couldn't shake the feeling that she had just made a deal with a devil. And yet, she couldn't deny the truth in Swain's words.

Piltover and Zaun were growing stronger. If Noxus was to maintain its dominance, they would need to act swiftly and decisively. But even as she resolved to play her part, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of her mind.

Who, or what, had truly saved her from Ekko's blade? And what role would they play in the battles to come?