Arcane: Painted Tapestries

[Northside]

The white-haired boy stared down at Powder apprehensively.

"Who are you?" He asked. "And how do you know my name?"

The woman started to laugh in despair; it was a hollow, empty noise, one that thoroughly spooked the boy crouching in front of her.

This wasn't his world. Heimerdinger was wrong.

Even if it was, she had arrived far too early.

Ekko slammed a gloved hand over her mouth, his brown eyes darting wildly towards the alley's entrance.

"Shh." He hissed, looking back at her. "Not so loud."

Powder started to cry again, this time her tears born from sorrow rather than pain.

They slid down onto the dark-skinned boy's gloved hand, wetting and mixing with the grime that covered it.

This was the wrong world.

There was no way back.

She had lost an arm.

All for nothing.

Ekko stared down at the blue-haired woman sitting beside him, frozen; unable to do anything but watch as she cried silently into his hand.

These tears couldn't only be because of the pain anymore, right?

"Shh." He whispered, wavering briefly before leaning forward and pulling the odd woman into a tight hug. "It'll be alright."

The blue-haired woman melted into his small embrace, not caring about how dirty he was, nor at being put in such a vulnerable position by a stranger.

Ekko's eyes widened as he realised the woman was missing her left arm. She had certainly hidden it well.

Her singular hand wrapped around his back and reached up to his frizzy white hair. The woman's fingers curled around the thick, curly strands, pressing him forward into her thin frame.

The masked boy began to feel a creeping sadness rise in him too.

How long had it been since he was hugged like this?

Not since Benzo had died.

The pair sat entwined in the darkness of the alley, for what felt like an eternity.

A few minutes had passed, and Ekko wryly thought that it was a miracle they hadn't been discovered yet.

"Is… Is Vi still alive?" Powder croaked out, her voice sounding throaty and broken.

Here she was, being comforted by someone a decade younger than her. What a mess she had turned out to be.

But strangely enough - it didn't feel wrong at all.

"No…" Ekko replied softly, separating from the woman. "She died the same night as Vander."

Powder's ocean blue eyes filled with a monumental sadness.

She wasn't alive in this world either. *

It couldn't be his world then.

He had drawn her for him, so she must've lived in his world.

"And… Felicia?" She asked sadly.

"You mean her mom?" The boy said, looking at her curiously. "She died a few years back."

Powder sighed unhappily.

Yeah, she thought that might've been the case.

No harm in asking though.

"Did you know them?" He asked, slowly getting to his feet and edging toward the alley's entrance.

"Yeah." She murmured. "They wouldn't know me though - the kids at least."

Ekko walked back to the woman after confirming the coast was clear. "Who are you?" He asked again, this time much more seriously.

Powder looked up at him furtively. "I'm… It's complicated."

She hated lying to him - to any version of him.

"Call me Blue." She said, momentarily deciding upon a simple nickname. "I knew Vander, Felicia, and Connol well. Very well."

Ekko gestured at her to get up, and she did so obediently, wincing at the pain it caused her.

"Where have you been then?" He probed, helping steady her until the makeshift cane was upright.

"I made a foolish decision," Blue replied quietly. "I met someone - a traveller of sorts. He was everything I ever wanted, but he had to leave us and go home. So, I tried to follow him, leaving the Twin Cities, along with everyone I'd ever known behind."

They walked back into the marketplace, skirting around its edges and disappearing into a more familiar alleyway.

"Did you find him?" Ekko asked.

Blue chuckled sadly. "No."

She idly noticed the boy was leading them in the direction of Southside, or more specifically not toward Benzo's shop.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" His concerned voice broke the woman from her thoughts.

She shook her head.

If Vander was dead, and Vi along with him; then she was truly alone.

"You can come with me then." He replied. "At least until you get back on your feet. Any friend of Vander's is a friend of mine." The boy patted a clenched fist into his chest in what he hoped was a dependable manner.

"Thanks, Ekko." She smiled at him warmly. "On another note though," She continued, slightly curious. "How is Benzo doing these days?"

Blue felt the boy's demeanour contract unhappily. 

He's dead. Same night as Vander and Vi."

Her heart dropped.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't be," Ekko replied sharply. "If anyone should be sorry, it's Silco."

The young pre-teen walked a little faster than before, pulling up his hood and obscuring his short white hair.

Blue could feel the subtle hurt radiating off him in waves.

Her mind wandered as they fell back into the silent rhythm of walking.

Silco… What happened to you?

—

[Mudtown]

Callian exited the Pink Lotus, stepping out onto the cold street.

The man's breath came out misty and frigid, his rapid regeneration had increased his body's temperature too much, and now it was bitingly cold outside.

He hated the Season of Frost.

Thankfully it would soon be over, and the climate would naturally warm up over time.

Until then though, he would have to cope with this awful weather.

"Two hours." Callian hummed, strolling through the relatively crowded streets.

What could he do for two hours?

His uniquely designed mask caught quite a few glances as he walked, causing the blue-haired man to realise he had forgotten to put his hood back up.

He cursed under his breath, subtly moving away into an alley and replacing it back in its usual position.

The man's mind wandered to the oriental gardens they had run through on their way to the Pink Lotus.

He sighed.

It was a start at least.

Callian jumped to the tiled rooftops above, once again navigating the multi-layered maze that was the Redhouse.

Even the underpowered human race could have parkoured across these rooftops with ease, that's how intertwined they were.

It reminded him of the Undercity in that aspect, every winding alley ran over a stark reminder of what he was duty-bound to protect.

"This time around..." He muttered quietly.

The blue-haired man hopped across the last roof, dropping down onto the cold, stiff grass below.

A light white frosting covered this region of the gardens, the cold winter sunlight unable to penetrate through the dark shadows cast by the Redhouse's towering walls.

It was perfectly empty, without a single person in sight.

Callian made his way over to one of the many gazebos dotting this open area of the province, stepping onto the greying stone foundation and coming to sit on one of the benches inside of it.

The man pulled back his hood and closed his heavy eyelids, leaning his head over the backrest comfortably.

Callian's mind drifted, the serene quiet of the gardens allowing for his full attention to be pulled back into the past.

A faint smile swept across his face as he remembered what had led to his 'first time', all those years ago.

That fiasco had also resulted in his recruitment to Silco's cause, so it was unashamedly one of his more precious memories.

Now, how had it gone again?

—

[Westside - The old timeline]

"There he is!" A burly man yelled, pointing down into a dark alleyway. "There's the brat who's been stealing our wares."

His three comrades skidded to a halt behind him, eyes squinting as they stared into the shadowy dead end.

A small, blue-haired boy clad in patchwork attire stood with his back to the wall.

"Shit. Should've known these fuckers would catch on." He swore angrily, berating himself for the situation he was now in.

"The fuck did you call us you goddamn outskirt rat!" The shorter of the men roared, attempting to race at Callian and stab him with his crude metal shortsword.

The third, a skinny one, held the man back; a wicked grin flashing across his tattooed face.

"Nowhere to run now boy." He smirked, slowly walking towards Callian and gesturing his two buddies to walk side by side, blocking any hopes the teen had of darting past them and escaping without a fight. "Give it back and maybe we'll let you go with your life intact. The rest of you however, will be fair game."

Out of all the alleys in this fucking shithole colony, how did he manage to run into the only one with a dead end?

The walls behind and beside Callian were disappointingly devoid of anything he could use to pull himself up and ascend to the next level.

His grey eyes whipped around, scanning the area for any sort of distraction he could use to make his chance of survival any greater.

A light cough echoed from a hefty pile of junk and blankets to his left, and his focus gravitated toward it immediately.

"Alright. Alright." He burst out, slipping the bag of chemicals off of his shoulder and throwing it toward the trio, waving his right hand around desperately in surrender. "Please, don't hurt me."

The blankets twitched, shuddering in what looked like fear.

This subtle movement dislodged a small piece of bent rebar, and it clattered to the ground loudly.

Everyone stared at it for a second, before the skinny man moved toward Callian again, stepping over the discarded bundle and towering over the cowering boy.

He grabbed the flailing child by the throat and slammed him into the wall, pointing his serrated knife directly at the boy's chest.

"I'm going to enjoy this. The amount of Marks you've cost us." He growled, as his burly friend walked over to the pile of junk to investigate its movement.

Callian's left fist suddenly slammed into the man's jaw, the shank grasped in his hand piercing straight through the underside of his assailant's chin and into the roof of his mouth.

The man howled in pain, his final action being a half-hearted thrust toward the boy's chest. 

Callian had already pulled the knife out however, flipping it into a reverse grip and smashing it into the man's inner elbow, causing him to drop the knife to the ground.

The short man screamed in anger, racing to his dead friend, only to fall backwards after the skinny man was launched into his speeding figure.

In the same moment, Callian put his right foot against the wall behind him and exploded forward, darting to the right and clumsily stabbing the falling man in the side.

He yelled out in pain, flailing as his head smashed into the fallen piece of rebar, knocking him out of the fight for the time being.

The burly man was the last left standing, and he was unarmed.

He stared across at the boy in shock, never having expected someone so small to be so vicious.

"Who did it." Callian hissed. "Who leaked that I was going to raid you?"

A traitor.

It was the only thing that made sense.

He had been changing up his methods of attack with every new job taken, and this stupid lot could not possibly have guessed his target so accurately without inside information.

The teen had a sinking feeling he already knew who had done it.

If it was true however…

The burly man backed away, shivering as a deathly chill passed over him.

The boy's grey eyes bore into his own, the hatred within so tangible he could practically feel it.

"It was some slump-rat." He said quickly, desperately trying to appease the little monster in front of him. "He was one of Jason's messenger boys - I'm sure of it."

The short man groaned, attempting to push his taller friend off him and re-enter the fight.

Callian stood stock still, his grey eyes burning with a refined rage.

"That fucking traitor." He snarled, turning around and slamming the blade into the back of the skinny man's head; then pulling it out and sending it downward again, this time through the shorter man's right eye.

Callian turned around to face the still-backing-away man, flipping the shank around and pointing the primitive blade toward him. "You go back to whichever shit-filled crew you come from and tell them this: Jason's the one who's been hiring me to hit your warehouses."

His final adversary's eyes widened in disbelief, his retreat halting as he stared at Callian.

"Yeah, that's right. Now fucking go!" Shouted the boy, sending his shank flying through the air toward the man's head.

He barely managed to duck under the spinning blade before legging it back toward the street and disappearing around the corner.

The teen's rage cooled down somewhat as his attacker ran from the alley, and he bent down to pick up the dead man's serrated knife.

"Mine now." He muttered, wiping his bloody hands on the man's shirt before walking forward to grab the bundle he had dropped as his distraction.

He twirled the knife around in his fingers, testing its sharpness by pricking the blade onto his forefinger's nail.

It sank into the naturally hard surface with ease, leaving a tiny nick behind as he pulled it away.

It had to be Piltovian, no Zaunite blacksmiths had the resources to manufacture something so perfectly sharp.

"And just what the fuck am I going to do with the rest of this shit?" He complained aloud, staring at the useless bundle before slinging it over his shoulder once more.

Jason was his only reliable buyer. It was him who wanted whatever the fuck this stuff was.

Callian still didn't understand why the man had sold him out - he clearly hadn't told his runner to inform the men about how he was the one stealing from them.

Didn't he need this shit?

A slight rustling noise rang out from behind him.

The boy whipped around, knife outstretched, facing the now-moving pile of junk.

A pale hand breached the many layers of blankets lying by the side of the alley.

Callian's eyes narrowed.

"What've you got there?" A muffled feminine voice emanated from underneath the pile of dirty blankets.

"None of your business." He snapped, stowing the knife into his belt and striding past the pile; only to feel the slim hand enclose itself around his ankle and nearly trip him over.

"Get the fuck off me." He kicked the offending hand away roughly.

"They're chemicals right?" The soft-spoken woman finally crawled out from underneath her pile of trash. "I know someone who's interested in that sort of thing."

Callian was caught off guard by her appearance.

This was not the kind of woman you found wandering around in Westside of all places.

She was a rose that was well outside of the metaphorical greenhouse.

Her skin was pale - covered in the dirt and grime of the street yes, but underneath… A perfect, unblemished white.

Her short curly hair was devoid of colour too, and covered in the same filth her skin was.

The woman's odd haircut had made it so that the left side of her face was completely obscured from view, hidden behind a thick curtain of white hair.

She also looked skinny, to the point that her dying of starvation didn't seem completely out of the question.

He laughed sarcastically. "I suppose you'd need a sizeable cut of whatever this trash is worth for hooking me up? No fucking thank you."

"One man's trash is another man's treasure." She said, struggling to her feet.

She was significantly taller than him, not that it would matter if she tried to attack him.

The blue-haired teen snorted, not even sparing the woman another glance as he walked back down the alley.

He needed to clear out before the man came back with more of his friends. They wouldn't underestimate him again.

"Wait." She said, grabbing him by the wrist. She was surprisingly strong for someone who looked so frail. "It's orange, right? With bubbles that float down instead of up?"

Callian paused.

It was in fact orange.

And it did have bubbles that sank downwards.

How did she guess that?

"What if it does?" He said, slowly reaching for the Piltovian dagger he had stowed in his belt earlier.

"I need it. Give it to me." She demanded, her grip on his wrist tightening.

Callian started to lose his temper again.

His newly acquired knife slashed toward her exposed neck; which she barely dodged in the nick of time, loosening her grip and tripping backwards, landing atop the two corpses lying behind her.

"Fuck off." He snarled, his grey eyes boring down into her mud-brown ones.

To Callian's astonishment however, there was no underlying fear contained within them.

All were afraid when they locked eyes with him, he did not know why.

Why… No, how was she an exception?

"Please." She cried out, floundering. "I need it."

"Why?" He asked coldly.

To be honest, he didn't give a shit about the bundle and its contents, nor how much it could be worth.

Money was not an issue for him anymore. He'd only taken these gigs because Jason had insisted on them, and he could make life very inconvenient for him if he refused.

Inconveniences he had no doubt were being put in place as they spoke.

The teen sighed.

His Southside apartment was going to be a no-go then.

If this stray's reasoning was good enough, well… She could take the bundle and all of the troubles that came with it.

She hesitated, before reaching up and parting the oversized bangs that covered the left side of her face.

The skin underneath was horrifically burnt, looking like it had been melted under a hot iron.

It was a recent change too, judging by how prominent the scarring was.

"I couldn't keep working after I got this - they kicked me out." She laughed sadly. "Nobody wants to fuck a whore who isn't pretty."

That made more sense. The whorehouses, especially in Northside, usually spent a pretty penny trying to keep their 'assets' in tip-top condition. It would certainly explain her unusual beauty.

But…

"I find it hard to believe they kicked you out over something so minor." Snarked Callian. A fair few of them apparently wore masks anyhow, at least from what he had heard.

"It's not just my face." She muttered unhappily, dropping her fringe and allowing her hand to swing loosely by her side.

The blue-haired boy stared at her cryptically.

"Who's this buyer?" He asked.

"Don't ask." She said, looking at him dejectedly. "I… Can't tell you that."

Yeah, he expected as much.

She probably wanted him to give her the loot and trust her to sell it and give him a cut.

This meant she was either afraid of being backstabbed after telling him the buyer's name, or she was trying to scam him.

Stupid bitch.

"Then we're done here." He snapped, turning around and storming away.

"Wait, wait." She said again, and Callian heard stumbling footsteps behind him. He readied his knife, clenching the handle tightly. "You- you can fuck me however you want, just please. Give it to me. I need it."

She didn't stand a chance against him in a normal fight, that much was clear by how easily he had taken down those two men.

She had no money and no way to force the activator into her possession. If she didn't get it she was dead.

Her body was the last thing she had to offer.

She needed that vial.

The blue-haired boy actually let out a laugh of disbelief. What the fuck was wrong with this woman?

"If you think one round with a damaged product like yourself is worth what's in this bag then you're fucking deluded. If you actually know what it was then you'd know this too."

Jason had offered a ridiculous total of two thousand Marks for whatever the hell this vial contained, which had made Callian even more suspicious about taking this job.

Maybe it was just bait to make him bite, maybe.

Or maybe it was actually worth that much.

Either way, it was still worth far more than a single night with this woman was, even before her disfigurement.

She looked visibly hurt by his harsh comment but ultimately wasn't dissuaded, pressing forward her agenda.

"You don't look more than thirteen summers old, surely you've thought about it at some point right?"

The woman looked desperate now, he could see it in her eyes.

Callian stopped walking, continuing to stare at the woman with narrowed eyes.

It wasn't the underlying insult that had made him halt, nor the abysmal guess at his real age.

She had said 'summers', not 'winters'.

Only topsiders said that.

It was another one of the stark contrasts between the residents of the Twin Cities; as in, which was the more prominent season to each.

For the Pilty's, it was the summer, a season they looked forward to and enjoyed. So much so that they celebrated being able to live through another one.

For Zaunites, it was the winter, a ruthless season that all dwelling in the Undercity dreaded. So much so that they celebrated being able to survive through another.

The cold claimed countless lives every year, especially down in the fissures.

He decided not to call the woman out her mannerisms for now, but that slip-up had ended up sparking his curiosity.

Who was she, really? Was she even a whore in the first place?

Callian's lip curled. Time to test that theory.

"Fine then. But you have to introduce me to your buyer afterwards - I raid warehouses like this all the time and I'm currently in need of a new fixer, as you might've heard."

Promises of future business would indeed be a worthy investment - that is if this stray was even telling the truth.

The woman flinched at his acceptance but hid it very well.

Why offer in the first place if you didn't want to go through with it?

She definitely wasn't a Zaunite, and she didn't seem like a whore either.

So why did she want this vial, and why was she sleeping in a Westside alleyway in the first place?

It was too coincidental; him turning up with exactly what she was looking for right when she needed it… Almost like she was waiting for him.

The suspicious circumstances were food for thought at the very least.

"Okay." She murmured, still eyeing the bundle urgently. "Where?"

As they re-entered the street, both of them heard multiple sets of thundering footsteps echoing from their right.

"Keep up." Where the only words the teen spared her, before sprinting down the winding street as fast as he could, listening to the shouts of angered recognition resounding behind him.

If it looked like he was going to get caught again then he'd use her as a distraction - or as a sacrifice.

Whatever the situation demanded for.

—

* Vi is alive and arrested, but Cannon Ekko didn't know this until she suddenly returned to the Undercity with Caitlyn after the Timeskip.

—

Lmk what you guys think of the flashback - and a happy new year to all of you.

—

(Total word count: 3930) - The longest so far.