The musty scent of dust threatened to reawaken his allergies. Senior Summoner Garrow futilely waved a hand across his face in an attempt to remove any unwanted particles from the vicinity of his nose and continued to trace his old pen over the ink-laden words of the scroll, crossing out a word here and there and replacing it with one more suitable to his eyes.

Garrow had low hopes for the success of a "League of Legends," as the High Councillor put it and even less faith in the integrity of the beings chosen to represent it. He failed to see what sort of virtue an animated monolith taken from some faraway planet could possibly bring to the table, yet he kept his robes draped over his face and continued to spend his time editing. The mind-numbing task which cost him countless hours poring over lengthy documents hardly provided any meaningful entertainment, but he had found his vocation over thirty years ago and chose to stick with it till the end. Sometimes, if the weather for that day and his respective mood aligned just right, he almost found an inner serenity in his work.

The door on the far end of the room slammed open, scraping against the wall despite Garrow's best efforts to keep the room unblemished. They did not own the office, and he would have to compensate any damage caused to it during their tenure from out of his own pocket. The contours of his face tightened into a frown as he looked up from his study and found the summoner who shared the working space with him, a sandy-haired youth who seemed more energetic today than usual.

"Summoner Garrow, did you watch the match earlier this morning? I've never seen a man fight like that!" a youthful voice rang out.

"I haven't." Garrow turned his attention back towards his document. He cared little for actually observing the battles between the oddball fighters, dismissing it as no more than some barbaric spectacle to appeal the simple-minded. "I do not waste time on gladiatorial cage fights, Stefen. The Fleshing more than satisfied my tastes."

The younger man gave him a sour frown. "But people actually die in the Fleshing, Garrow. The High Council has done something completely different from those death matches down in Noxus. Here, combatants can actually prove their mettle fighting as fiercely as they can without worrying about the quandary that is their own mortality. And that one man sure proved he belongs here." Stefen threw a stack of papers onto the older man's already crowded desk, no doubt more documents to examine. "Look at that. Not two hours have gone by and the High Councillor's already issued a restriction on weapons."

Garrow lifted the first document to his eyes, adjusting his spectacles to read the long, flowing writing, a trademark of Councillor Relivash. "Use of the Rageblade upon the Fields of Justice is prohibited until further testing by the Research & Development Department." He set aside the manuscript after a while, the dull look on his face showing his indifference.

"Don't tell me you're not impressed!" Stefen exclaimed. "Bah, you don't seem to react to anything. Guinsoo, on the other hand.. oh, he won't be pleased. Well, I'm off again. Celica - I mean, Summoner Millein wants me to help her conduct experiments with the steam golem. It's a real wonder, that Zaunite invention. Anyways, I'll see you later!" The door slammed shut, a sound which made Garrow cringe in frustration. He put a hand to his head, sighing in frustration at the lack of seriousness with which his coworker acted, treating the daily events at the Institute like some kind of amusement park. Garrow even doubted the boy's romantic quest would make any headway - the girl belonged to an influential family of Piltover and her parents always looked to set her up with some up-and-coming inventor, not some errand boy who had just upgraded from his previous slot as an intern for the Institute.

Picking up the paper which Stefen had indicated to him earlier, he took a closer look at the document. The mercenary who had utilized the Rageblade had racked up an impressive scoreline on the Fields, surprising even his summoner when the three-man ambush set up by the opposing team turned sour when the mercenary simply turned on them and methodically eradicated them. Even the irksome Garrow had to acknowledge the man's skill. Still, he wrote it off as just another prizefighter, once again tossing the request aside. He would get to proofreading the document when its time came.

For him, Senior Summoner Garrow, it was time to get back to work.

Veterans called it "the island." Though one of the oldest members of the League himself, he had not come up with the name; rather, the demigod of the sands had first brought it up in casual conversation, and it found its way into the vernacular of the champions. Hidden away from the commotion which filled the rift, the well-worn path sparsely patched with grass didn't attract many visitors, but that was exactly why its denizens preferred its location. The old haunts seemed to attract veterans of battle, weary souls whose eyes looked generations older than the bodies in which they resided.

Twirling his weapon around his fingers, he smiled to himself. It had graced him with a thousand victories on the Fields, and he could feel it itch for more. He walked forward onto the familiar rough field, an amused expression lying under the hood which had covered his face since his first day fighting on the Fields of Justice, and quietly strode into the thickets bordering the side of the narrow corridor. He watched his opponent take her first steps into the area, hesitant but unafraid. From the cover of the bushes, his blue eyes knew their observance would not be returned for a brief few seconds. A quick calculation revealed that she did in fact spend a couple of seconds aiding the enemy jungler through the first clear of the jungle camps, and his eyes acknowledged this with the confidence to know that no unwanted disturbance would pass by the area for quite some time. That was perfectly fine, as he never liked the concept of a person sneaking around the trees and bushes, interfering with the natural progression. Nothing to lay testament to their bout of single combat besides the earth beneath their feet, the sky above their head, and the familiar feel of the lamppost. The halcyon atmosphere provided the components he required for him to enjoy their contest – a true duel.

A small smirk emerged on his unseen lips as he emerged from the thicket, weapon in hand.

"Bring it on."

The bladesman expressed his gratitude, and she left his company with confidence in his abilities and her own but a shade of doubt in her allies'. "You need only to call for me, and I shall lend you my aid," he would promise before every match, but after many instances of partnering up on the rift, she knew his actual strategy would waver quite significantly. The master of the Wuju style enjoyed traipsing around the jungle, defeating the monsters which lurked in its shadows, but his zeal for strengthening himself came at the cost of leaving his allies to fend for himself. The enemy jungler would find their flanks unopposed and often tilt the state of the game into their side's favor as the swordsman focused on defeating each set of monsters, occasionally wandering towards the dragon's den and slaying the monster by himself. Often, the misunderstanding between her countryman and their allies led to complaining and the eventual loss of the game when their team began to fall behind, but if capable teammates could keep the game in equilibrium long enough, she could testify for the strength he possessed when he deemed his training in the jungle sufficient. Entire enemy teams would go fall to his sword in the blink of an eye, and she could not even follow his agile movements as he extended his fury towards the enemies' towers and eventually their nexus. She deeply hoped she would see the latter take place.

She expected her slightly tardy arrival to mean that her opponent would have a slight edge to start the lane, but surprisingly she didn't see the presence of anyone else besides the minions who mindlessly pelted each other with small particles of energy. Warily eyeing the brush, she walked over to them and commanded her blades to swipe at them to see if she could take down a few early. Any advantage, however small, might make the difference in the long run.

As the first of her own minions was about to fall, however, a hooded figure swiftly made its entrance from out of the bushes hugging the end of the lane. After quickly felling the minion with a simple thwack of his weapon, he immediately turned on her, swinging the lamppost at her with more poise than one would expect a person would have wielding such a bizarre weapon. Not willing to let his aggression go unanswered, she returned the favor, willing the blades floating at her side to attack her enemy and wounding him with two quick slashes. Immediately her assailant changed his stance into what she knew was the dangerous Counter Strike, being able to dodge her subsequent attacks as well as the aggression her own minions now directed towards him. Trying to keep her distance from the whirling figure before her, she backed away towards the tower which would protect her from his assault, but she could not quite reach a safe enough distance before the lamp came down on her.

She felt a sharp jab of pain in the side of her head as she reeled from the impact, stunned for a second as he got a few more hits in. He had gotten the better of her during their short little exchange of blows, and she tread more carefully as she returned back to focusing on the minions who had also stopped attacking the two champions and resumed their little slap-fest. His technique would be down for quite some time, so she had little to fear at this point until he could bring it up again. What wasn't down, however, was the mild taunting her opponent threw at her as they faced each other.

"Never going to learn, are you?" he joked.

"I should have known better, but you're usually not one to resort to cowardly tactics like waiting for me in the brush, Jax," she replied.

"That's the beauty of battle," he remarked. "You'd never see it coming." As he ended the sentence he had reached level two before her and instantly jumped on her again, but as she leveled up at the same time, she prepared herself for his tactics. A dose of quick thinking allowed her to give him a taste of his own medicine by unleashing her own stun on him and then dashing away towards a minion, dodging the swinging lamp which aimed for her head. She closed the gap between them, sending two of her blades into his side.

After a few blows they disengaged from each other, both respecting the other's strength. "Better."

She smirked. "We're not too different, you know."

"You think so? That may be true. But I'll remind you why I've had the longest streak on the Fields to this day," Jax answered as they resumed fighting.

The two found each other quite equal in strength for a few levels, both remaining quite healthy due to their natural resilience, until the time when they hit level six, where she took advantage of Jax's Counter Strike just barely missing to pursue him towards his tower. Jax desperately tried to leap away to one of his friendly minions going up the lane but she turned her weapon into a projectile, unleashing the four blades at him like spears as they grazed past his skin. Attempting to dodge them as best as he could, he endured three hits but succumbed to her when the last one barely clipped him, wiping out the last of his energy and sending him crashing down to the ground.

"Well played," he gasped as he was sent back to the summoning platform to respawn. His counterpart merely gave him a knowing smile as she herself recalled, having dropped low on health herself after the encounter.

With the slight lead, Jax was forced to play a bit more cautiously, but as the resident Grandmaster at Arms, he knew he would eventually take back his advantage as time went on if he could procure enough gold to get the items he needed. After a few more levels went by without incident, Jax was able to catch his opponent greedily overextending and wasting most of her abilities in an attempt to take him down. Glad he had saved his Counter Strike for this moment, he masterfully dodged all of her attacks and struck back with a stun. Tapping into a well of fortitude, he unleashed his Grandmaster's Might to strengthen his resolve as this time, he was able to outduel his opponent to bring her down and even up the score.

"How'd you like that one, kid?" he jabbed as he continued his onslaught towards the enemy tower. She didn't respond this time either, leaving a wistful look on her face as her body was sent back to her own base.

By this time their intense one on one in their own little world had basically ended and their teams were calling on them to group up to help them move around the map. Jax's team was falling a bit behind, but he was confident in his ability to become even stronger yet, as he still had a few more items he would like to acquire. His counterpart, on the other hand, was quite content with the level of power she had reached and took it upon herself to build more defensively in order to survive longer in drawn out fights.

Eventually, despite his best efforts to mount a comeback, even being able to sneak in the destruction of the other team's nexus turrets, the combined efforts of the enemy team was able to finish off the game just a bit quicker than Jax could on his own. As proud as she felt for defeating such a tough opponent, she knew her one victory meant little against the impressive pedigree the fighter had built for himself. She heard of stories from the beginning of the League before she had joined, special restrictions created to limit his power because he had won so many matches in a row. Apparently the summoners had reigned in his power, as he served as a rare unorthodox pick by top ranking summoners, but she could still pick out the remnants of his former domination. In his current state, she supposed, a loss every now and then was inevitable, but despite his infrequent appearances, he still sported a stellar record. The other champions all knew this too, treating him with a good amount of respect when their paths crossed. And when the newcomers to the League first saw his power in battle with simply a lamppost, she could plainly read the shocked expressions on their faces: What if he had a real weapon?

Her surroundings turned to white as she closed her eyes and prepared for her return to the main summoning platform. She opened them once more to find the members of the opposing team standing on a similar platform on the other side of the room. Clambering down the set of stairs, the two teams met each other with the customary shaking of hands, well-wishing, and utterances of "good game." She knew the casual atmosphere in the room only arose since the match they played had little consequences on the politics of Valoran. The rights to a few miles of fishing spots off the coast of Demacia shouldn't have caused a great deal among the champions on the losing team, who merely shrugged off their losses. She sought out her opponent from the top lane, but Jax came across her first, offering a gloved hand as a sign of good will. "You were alright out there, kid," he said in his typical good-natured yet confident tone. "Made a few fancy moves, although your general technique could use some polishing."

She met his outstretched hand with her own and chuckled. "But who ended up winning that game, huh? Last time I checked, it was my team."

Jax merely laughed. "It was a team effort. I got pretty close on my own – wait till we get more evenly matched teams. Next time will be different, kid."

She looked at him testily, eager to prove his premonition wrong when next they met. "You can't blame your team on that loss. I thought they played well. And I have a name, Jax."

"Nah, I just like to give Lee a hard time. And don't take it personally, I do that to everyone. Anyways, I was heading over to Gragas' later tonight for some drinks. Your skill today has deemed you worthy in my book, so if you want to join me, feel free," he offered.

His invitation surprised her. She didn't see Jax as the very sociable type, and she only saw him out of matches when he entered a bar. Wondering what he wanted out of her, she considered his suggested location. Many champions of the League adored The Rabble-Rouser's Hut, especially Gragas, who of course managed the place. She gave him the benefit of the doubt and nearly flat-out accepted the invitation, but she wanted him to acknowledge that she was just as good of a fighter as he was. His status as the self-proclaimed Master of Arms amongst the League didn't matter to her; as far as it concerned her, they were equals.

"Well… I might consider it, but maybe if you'd ask a little more nicely," she hinted.

She could picture him groan under the dark hood of his. He didn't respond right away, probably taking some time to figure out a proper sequence of words. "It would be an honor for the Will of the Blades to accompany the Grandmaster at Arms to the Rabble-Rouser's establishment tonight."

"Try again."

He sighed and nearly turned to leave, but faced her and spoke once more. "You're a very charming woman, Irelia. Would you like to go out for some drinks tonight? I would greatly appreciate it."

She giggled at his extravagant tone. "You don't have to drown me in flattery. I'd love to, Jax."

A/N: rewrite in progress.