Chapter 13: Finding Purpose

Pov Kylen

Suddenly my eyes opened and I found myself in a soft bed that felt so familiar. The air carried a scent that seemed familiar to me. Perhaps death had found me, and this is what the afterlife looks like. As I rose from the bed, I caught the scent of food, and the heaviness inside me made me grit my teeth to hold back the tears.

Slowly, step by step, I approached the kitchen, a familiar song ringing in my ears:

In this cold hour he will return

The darkness will flee in fear

The glorious warrior will save you.

mmmmmm

It was the song of my Ingun. She stood at the window, as beautiful as ever.

"My husband," she turned around when she heard Kaylen's footsteps.

"Ingun, " I whispered and froze, afraid to move, afraid it could all be an illusion.

"I'm glad to see you," she whispered, coming closer and hugging me.

"Forgive me, I couldn't protect you. I should have...," I said almost shouting. The battles had hardened me, the magic had made me cold, but now I couldn't hold back.

"I don't blame you. You did everything you could. Everything is in the hands of the gods, " she reassured me. But my mood changed drastically at her words, all because of them.

"They are to blame for this. I will destroy them," I said even more vehemently now.

"Don't do it. Give up revenge, just live," Ingun whispered.

"What are you talking about? I died in battle," I said confused.

"No, you went over the edge, but you're still alive. You're only here for a short time," Ingun said, looking into my eyes.

"No, I don't want a life without you, without Asur," I answered, shaking my head. But then I noticed that our son wasn't there. "Where is Asur?" I asked seriously.

"He's still outside, there's still time. But you must leave now," she said.

As her words echoed, my eyes began to close and the scene before me became increasingly distorted. It felt as if I was being pulled away.

"No, I don't want to go," I shouted with the last of my strength until I was completely torn away.

When I came to, I found myself lying on a hard surface, as if thousands of knives were piercing my skin. My body ached from the battle wounds and the harsh awakening. I remembered the dream where I saw Ingun, but her words were blurred and I forgot what we were talking about.

"Ahem," a cough nearby caught my attention. I looked up and saw what seemed to be darkness.

End Pov

Kayle stood over the fallen opponent, her attack deflecting at the last moment and partially hitting Kylen. His body was damaged and he was barely clinging to life. Hearing his name whispered by the person before her, she felt the warmest emotions a human could feel. She was torn by doubts, having recently taken on the duty of cleansing the world of evil in all its forms. But her sister often made her see situations differently, where seemingly evil acts had selfless motives.

"What should I do, Mother?" Kayle whispered, looking at the sword that had come to her in childhood, along with an identical one belonging to her sister.

She decided to spare his life. His fate would be decided later, after she understood what he had done. With her magic, she prevented his death and healed his wounds and injuries.

Gathering the remaining warriors, he entrusted them with his body to keep watch in case he woke up and tried to escape, though the possibility was slim. The journey was not long, and they reached the capital of Demacia.

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They were met by the guards and Kayle's sister, Morgana. A complete contrast, her appearance was full of dark hues. Purple clothing, hair, and eyes. While Kayle only thought about punishing the guilty, Morgana's view of the world was completely different. She knew that there was not just good and evil, and the line between them was so blurred that it was almost impossible to understand the truth.

"Sister, has something happened?" Morgana asked.

"Yes, another bandit," Kayle replied. Morgana just sighed at her sister's answer. She had often tried to convince her that such people were not driven by the vices of their hearts, but by the lives and conditions in which they found themselves. Yes, they had a choice between killing and hiding, but neither was better than the other.

"I see. And who is this?" Morgana noticed the body of the man who had been struck by Kayle's magic and was now in rags. It was strange that she had chosen to take a prisoner.

"I brought him in for judgment," Kayle admitted.

"And what did he do?" Morgana asked, finding it strange to see Kayle's uncharacteristic behavior.

"He killed many people. I see the cruelty and cold-bloodedness with which he committed his sins," Kayle replied.

"Then I will ask him about his life and learn everything," Morgana decided to uncover the secret of this man who didn't look particularly unusual, like an ordinary peasant. As she approached him, she realized she was mistaken. These were the hands of a warrior who had fought many battles, his muscles were lean and his skin was covered with scars. "Take him to the dungeon and bring other clothes; these are too ruined," she ordered the soldiers. In Demacia, they are honored as protectors, and everyone respects them.

"Fine, I have more important matters to attend to," Kayle said as she started to leave.

Morgana just smiled at those words, knowing all too well what those "important things" were. Kayle simply spent her time receiving people's praise, accepting their gifts, and healing their ailments in return.

Deciding not to tease her sister any further, Morgana went home first, gathering several potions she had learned to make through her magic. Despite the common belief that magic was pure evil, she saw it as something else entirely. It was merely a tool, and how it was used was entirely up to its wielder. Thus, she studied books and scrolls written by mages and gained much useful information.

Not understanding her gift at first, Morgana eventually came to see it in a whole new light. No, it wasn't a curse or evil; it was a power given to her at birth, and it was up to her to decide who she would become.

Gradually, her understanding of her own gift deepened, and the limits of her abilities began to fade. She could lift curses, cure illnesses, and heal infections, tasks her sister couldn't always accomplish. While Kayle's gift excelled at healing injuries, it couldn't handle more delicate matters.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize she had arrived at the dungeon. Morgana saw Kylen lying on the floor, coarse straw beneath him. She pulled a piece of soft cloth from her bag and placed it under his head.

"Burns from my sister's magic," she murmured, noting that while they had healed, they were still serious wounds and infection had begun to set in. The blackness of the fabric suggested dead flesh.

"He's about twenty-five years old by the looks of it," Morgana said to herself as she tended to his wounds.

"Ingun," Kylen's lips whispered.

"Looks like you're having a pleasant dream," Morgana commented, feeling his heart begin to beat faster. Even in his condition, she could feel his happy emotions.

After tending to his wounds, Morgana stepped out of the cell and locked it. Despite her confidence in her abilities, she couldn't help but notice that her sister's armor had been damaged in several places. If he had fought with his bare hands and caused such damage, his strength was remarkable.

The patient began to regain consciousness; his eyelids fluttered and a groan of pain escaped his lips. However, he quickly regained control of his body as the sounds around him faded.

"Ahem, greetings, I am Morgana. You are currently in prison. My sister has found many sins in you and has decided to bring your case to trial. Tell me about your deeds, cleanse your soul," Morgana said, drawing his gaze to her.

Kylen rose to his feet without answering. Though pain shot through his body, he stood by sheer force of will. Surveying the room, he realized that escape was impossible. A thick steel bar blocked the way, and the monolithic stone walls offered no hope of breaking free.

"Why should I tell you anything about myself?" Kylen asked.

"Look, I understand you. My sister attacked you and brought you here, but right now your life hangs in the balance," Morgana said, hoping he would grasp the seriousness of the situation, still amazed at how he managed to stand with such injuries.

"I don't care," Kylen replied, turning to face the wall. Life was meaningless to him and he saw no point in it. But what bothered him more was the dream. He felt he had forgotten something important, something lurking at the edge of his consciousness. He needed to meditate to remember the details of the dream. Meditation could unlock the memories buried in his subconscious.

"I don't think you understand. You have a choice: either repent for your sins and be forgiven, or face execution," Morgana said in confusion.

Ignoring his interlocutor, Kylen sank into meditation, needing to remember the dream. Morgana, seeing that he was ignoring her, became angry. She wanted to help him save his life and he was behaving like this.

"If that's the way it is, you will be judged the day after tomorrow, and I will not stand in my sister's way," Morgana said angrily and left.

Kylen, deep in meditation, did not hear her words and concentrated on his memories. Images of his home and Ingun standing at the window flashed by, feelings and emotions surfaced, but the words were blurred and unclear.

"You shouldn't have treated her like that," a voice said from the side. Kylen paid no attention.

He realized that it wasn't a memory, but a new event; at the edge of life and death, the soul could leave the body, and maybe he had managed to see Ingun. This caused him pain, but he couldn't remember anything about his son, his father or his mother. Maybe they were still alive? Kylen thought. Then he must try to find them; maybe all was not lost.

With a newfound determination to live, he stood up again. His interlocutor was no longer near, and he approached the bars, examining them. There was no way out: the steel was too thick, and the lock was out of reach, clearly a complex mechanism.

The lack of options forced Kylen to return to his meditative posture, gathering strength for his escape. As he tried to gather his strength, he heard the clang of metal. Opening his eyes, he saw a soldier walking down the corridor with a cart carrying wooden bowls and a metal pot. Stopping at each cell, the soldier would take a bowl, scoop out some unappetizing slop, and throw it to the prisoners. What exactly was in this concoction is hard to imagine.

When the soldier reached Kylen's cell door, he pulled out a bowl, scooped some porridge into it, and threw it at the prisoner's feet. Some of the porridge splattered, and Kylen looked down in disgust at what he had been given. The food smelled like garbage, and it was full of debris. How he missed his strength; his magic had always sustained him, allowing him to go without food for long periods of time. Even during the hungriest times of his childhood, his clan had eaten far better than this.

"Ah, today's not so bad," commented an old man sitting in the cell next to his. He took the bowl and began to eat. His body was skeletal, his hair unkempt and down to his shoulders. His face was gaunt and many of his teeth were missing.

"Hey, if you're not going to eat that, give it to me," the old man shouted.

Kylen picked up the bowl and deftly threw it into the old man's cell, landing perfectly in front of him.

"Wow, nice skills. Who are you?" the old man asked, taking the bowl.

Kylen ignored the question and continued his meditation.

"Don't you see, old man? He's definitely not an ordinary person. He looks like a noble, though such a person wouldn't be thrown into a cell here. He doesn't look like a Demacian - black hair, pale skin. Looks like our friend is from Freljord," a voice from the side remarked.

"Quite far from home, brother. Your people don't usually like the warm lands," the old man commented.

"Looks like he's one of the refugees. Recently there have been rumors of a great war without a victor," the voice from the side spoke again.

"Ah yes, I have heard of that. We all run from something," the old man chuckled, a mocking tone in his voice.

"I have never run," Kylen said coldly and opened his eyes. His bloodthirsty stare made the old man jump. A shiver ran down his spine, as if a noose had tightened around his neck.

"Careful, they say the Freljordians are strong enough to bend metal with their bare hands. If you provoke him, he might break out and come after you," the voice said cheerfully.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend," the old man apologized.

Kylen closed his eyes and returned to his meditation.

"So, what do you say, our unfortunate Freljordian colleague? We're all dead men here anyway. Do you think you can break these bars?" the voice from the side asked.

Kylen might have been able to do it before, when his physical strength allowed it, but now he was no stronger than an ordinary human. Compared to the Demacians, however, he still had considerable strength.

"No, I can't," Kylen replied.

"That's too bad. We could have tried to escape before they killed us, though we'd probably be killed right outside. There are too many guards here," the voice said.

"Then what's the point of escaping?" Kylen asked.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to try. Someone might make it and enjoy a brief freedom until the Enforcers catch them again," the voice from the side added. "By the way, since you're talking, what's your name? I'm Buck, a smuggler."

"Sub-Zero," Kylen said, knowing that his former life was dead until he found his clan and confirmed their safety.

"Nice to meet you, though not for long," Buck replied.

The conversation naturally died down. The prisoners were subdued as they faced their imminent deaths, and the anticipation of execution was torture in itself. Under normal circumstances, Demacia did not execute criminals; they were sent to work camps to live out their days. But here, those who defied the law or committed serious crimes faced death.

Kylen tried to devise a plan to escape. At first he had no will to live, but now he had hope. The main problem was that he couldn't go home. Anivia's curse was still upon him and working perfectly.

He stayed in meditation until the next day. Early in the morning, soldiers entered his cell. He didn't resist when they took him to a windowless room and chained him to a chair in front of a table.

Soon the door opened again and the girl from his awakening entered. Her dark eyes sparkled.

"Will you remain silent or confess your sins?" Morgana asked.

"My name is Sub-Zero. I was only defending my home from enemies, nothing more, nothing less," Kylen replied.

"You are not lying. So you killed in defense. Did you kill innocent people?" Morgana asked.

"Yes, I was filled with rage and didn't see what I was doing. Now I understand that it wasn't me; it was just a mass of hate. But I let it happen," Kylen continued.

"Again, it's good that you're not trying to lie. I can easily tell the difference. How did you meet my sister?" - Morgana asked. She already knew all about that meeting and decided to see if he could bypass her magic.

"I heard the sounds of battle, saw soldiers fighting bandits. Not wanting to interfere, I left, but I got caught," he replied.

"So you just got caught in the crossfire. Sounds like my sister striking first without understanding the situation. Tell me about yourself, who you were, where you came from?" - Morgana continued.

"I am from Freljord, of the Bear Claw Clan. I was a warrior and a hunter, that was my profession," - Kylen replied.

"Bear Claw? Your clan traded with the Demacian settlements, didn't you?" - She asked.

"Yes, but now I have no home," he replied sadly.

"I am sorry for your loss. We've heard of the war in your region, and I understand that your actions were only driven by a desire to protect your home and avenge your fallen loved ones. You don't deserve to be executed, that's for sure," Morgana added, inferring his motives.

"What will happen to me?"

"Most likely, the Judicators will send you to the mines. I'll try to convince my sister to release you, but I can't promise anything," she replied.

"What's the point of your forgiveness if you're going to kill people in the mines under harsh conditions? They don't rebel out of a good life," - Kylen continued.

"I know, but there's nothing I can do about it now, those are the laws of Demacia," - Morgana replied.

"Then this conversation has been pointless," - Kylen said.

"I'm sorry, but this is all I can do to keep you alive," - Morgana said, opening the door and leaving.

Soldiers entered the room, removed his restraints and led Kylen back to his cell.