An Immovable Object Versus An Unstoppable Force (Mostly New Evelynn Lore)

**The Dance of the Dark** The dark figure ghosted towards the dimly lit grounds of the keep. Merging with the all-embracing patterns of light and dark, the individual continued to calmly advance towards the locked door. These patterns thrown by the crescent-moon caused the interloper to blend into the fabric of the night. She gracefully matched the sway of the tree's shadow, and the lingering, gloomy shade cast by the clouds. The assailant had been carefully studying the gait and the walking path of the sentry posted to Taki Akati's keep – she had noticed that every hour, the sentinel would wander off into a grove and pull out a cigar, one of Scherzen quality no doubt judging by the pungent yet sweet aroma. This scent was redolent, and she was reminded of childhood dandelions; however few there were in the Shadow Isles. This so-called ‘guard' held the cigar close to his body as if he didn't want to share his brief moment of tranquillity. Orange flickers of light illuminated the silver wolf head emblazoned upon the hilt of the dirk buried inside his crimson jacket. This would have to be kept in mind when breaking into the keep, in the case of other guards. This sentry's addiction and lack of work ethic would be his saving grace since the assassin disliked murder when not necessary. The recent assassination of Ionian senator Xiali Nao was a mere stepping stone for the Noxian invasion into Ionia to gain access of the Catalyst: the key to Noxus' victory over Demacia. Senator Akati was like the final boss – a guardian into the chamber of triumph. The second death of a senator would frighten Ionia into giving up the key needed to unlock the already-stolen super weapon, unless Ionia would like a string of neutralisations of course. The subsequent invasion was to take place in 3 weeks after the death of Akati. Talon and Katarina were currently unavailable, due to some other business. Evelynn wriggled her fingernail into the lock and twisted. A satisfying ‘click' resonated around the area. She treaded into the dwelling, leaving the shattered remains of another sentry's glass lantern behind. Ironically, the moon's glint reflecting on broken glass continued to provide some illumination. The numerous mini-ponds reflected the thousands of shimmering pinpoints of light, stars ignited perhaps, that were the formation of Aurelion Sol; such stars were a sign of the good luck that would come to one, even if the Star Forger was frowning upon Evelynn's actions from deep within the illustrious heavens. Betrayal filled the dragon with abhorrence, as he was once deceived, and Evelynn was following into the Targonian's footsteps. Swain's paycheck of three-million Ducae was of no justification, Aurelion Sol would see to where this would lead. She studied the living room of the senator as she slinked towards his room. Through the corridor, a painting of a field became apparent; deep and rich purple and red flowers sat atop a vibrant green field. A painting so realistic, it was like a portal into a new world, you could almost pick one of the petunias. Evelynn looked into the bottomless painting, and she couldn't fathom what she was about to do, and for money of all things. But it was too late now. Evelynn looked weary as if she could sense the chirps of robins in the trees, and the feel of grass tussocks, a uniform green, rustle under her feet from the painting. For whatever reason, she could now taste the copious amounts of sickly sweet cream she had smothered on her cakes as a child. She could still remember the indelible words her mother had woven into her heart. Evelynn gathered up her emotions into her cage-like heart, locking the steel bars with a key of regret that had to be thrown away. Swain would destroy her if the assassination was failed; he would tear her up limb by limb if he wished so, a ravenous flock mutilating her, millions of lacerations and gashes. She could disappear into the dawn if she liked, but to what avail? She steeled herself, for the regret of a lifetime. She approached the body of the man, falsely protected by a cocoon of blankets. She could feel a voice of light struggle push her away; it felt like it was knocking her back, away from a mistake. His closed eyelids concealed the eyes of a tormentor. These tired eyes would not see the endless oblivion, the dark passage into eternity that would ensue. Neither a twitch, nor a spasm in this body was present. Generally, Evelynn would use a hate spike as a final blow, a sign of dominance perhaps, possibly a marking of her marvellous, virtuoso-like orchestration of death. But she was clearly instructed to show no sign of who was here. She traced the wrinkly jaw line with a pinky sharp enough to fissure diamonds. A simple, lengthways cut to the throat would have to do. "Sorry Father...." she gasped as tears flooded the openings into her clockwork mind. But a golden twinkle became apparent, possibly a glimmer of hope? She tugged out a radiant, luminous, incandescent card from between the man's ribs; a torrent of lifeblood followed through the laceration. The card was festooned with a short chain, and it was a royal gold, symbolic of riches and money. Evelynn was stunned. "Twisted Fate...?" she whispered. The words "That's right hun" shot towards her as another card of gold slammed into her back, jarring her into place as she toppled over. Albeit bewildered at the unanticipated encounter, the silky-voiced swindler thought he was dealing the cards into his own hands. Overconfident and cocky, Twisted Fate blinked out of the keep, thinking his job was done and Evelynn was moribund, and he had pocketed a jackpot of at least four-hundred-thousand from the home. Evelynn helped herself up from the wooden floorboards using the still warm hand of the dead body, slightly longing for there to be a consistent pulse. She smirked as she thought of how vexed Twisted Fate would be. She snaked out of the house and slipped into a grove of trees seventy metres from the cottage. She would have to wait until later to leave, as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon and there was the ever-present Vermillion Guard that patrolled past here at dawn. The darkness painstakingly surrendered to the light. The sky was no longer an abyss of black, speckled with light, but rather a dance of bright and dark hues. The friendly face of the sun propelled arcing spears into the twilight depths. These first orange spears kissed the clouds and sent happiness to whoever the soft glows touched. Evelynn no longer felt atrocious or abhorrent. She found the smell of cigars still lingering and wafting throughout the air, but it was strange now after her father died. She vividly remembered her father smoking those cigars. They stung her nostrils now and the smell bred contempt. She was back to square one, torn between love and hate, the sun no longer comforting. She hid patiently until an opportune moment. She left quickly, hidden in plain sight, and deftly manoeuvred through alleyways. A translucent energy, barely visible in her peripheral vision, followed her around, it was much a reminder of her success and reward as it was of her betrayal, even though her father deserved it. Such energy only appeared when her emotions were unleashed, and she was the demon of demons when she was toyed with during this period. She reached Noxus, with the job done and a head in her satchel, however morbid that may be. She fiddled with the apparatus that allowed access into one of the many secret entrances straight to the city centre. She found it ironic that she killed her father as ‘The Widowmaker'. The door creaked open with a muffled voice, and allowed entry into the weaving, winding catacombs of the labyrinth. She scraped her long fingernails along the dirt walls as she set off, building up a barrier of irremovable dirt under the nail. Her thoughts at this point in time could pierce the heavens, and whatever hells there may be. Over an hour later, she swaggered out with a pocketful of three-million Ducae - the old war-tactician had surprisingly kept his word. The clouds were ablaze with the lights of dusk as she waded knee-deep through a stream. Pebbles whisked about underfoot like embers after a hearty fire. A galaxy of dragonflies buzzed through beams of light, wings a blur as their magical luminescence brought more happy memories. Overhead, an exodus of birds frolicked throughout wispy clouds and swooped through low-hanging leaves. This joy was contradictory to the soon to ensue chaos. An immovable object nestled in mountains versus an unstoppable onslaught that was the epitome of power. Who would win during this cacophony of an average day in Runeterra? Aurelion Sol simply looked on from the heavens. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Hey all, I really hope you enjoy 'The Dance of the Dark', it's sorta meant to be some new Evelynn lore considering Evelynn is one of many characters that doesn't have a comprehensive lore (that I knew of anyway). The text is 1499 words long and does have a lot of fragmented sentences, but it's meant to be like that because it is my writing style. There are are lot of references and new links between characters that should be picked up if I've done my job correctly. Any constructive feedback or any comment at all would be appreciated even though I'm not allowed to write another story for this competition. Also, a lot of these characters are of my own creation, just for clarification. Also, I was wondering if anyone knew who exactly these would be judged by the community, because not everyone will read all the FanFiction submissions. Thanks, Dylan :3
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