Riven remembered.

The acrid scent of poisonous gas filled her nose once again, her lungs heavy with the tainted air. She lurched forward, a burning sensation spreading from her core to her throat and out her mouth. She's covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, her face flushed red as the hot tears of pain rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin.

Yes, Riven remembered more than she'd like to.

A few minutes later and it stopped as abruptly as it started. She pushed the handle of the toilet down, watching as the vile mixture of vomit and water spiraled down the drain. She clenched her teeth as she took deep, uneven breaths that made her chest feel heavy.

It was over for now. But only for now.

This was the third time this week this happened. The third time she woke up in the middle of the night screaming. The third time she relived the battle over and over again in her head, helplessly trying to block out the memories. Every time this happened, she could feel the sensations returning, her nerves tormenting her with phantom pains so strong she wasn't even sure if they were real or not.

But still, she considers herself lucky. It used to happen every day, every waking moment and when she was unconscious.

But still, she was alive.

She was alive after the horrible battle at Coeur Valley. The only person who made it out alive besides the man who was responsible for everyone else's deaths. The twisted man who had laughed maniacally as his unholy poisons melted the skin of the soldiers and liquidized the lungs of those who had breathed too much of the toxic fumes.

Singed's face appeared in her mind and Riven grimaced as she felt a flash of pain in her chest, quickly replaced by a burning anger for him and the current state of Noxus.

Noxus claimed to be victorious in that battle, but the truth was that no one won. Noxus was blind to what she had become, claiming to value strength yet using cowardly Zaunite tactics to "win" battles she was rightfully defeated in.

That day had changed her forever. The day she was surrounded by the dead bodies of Ionians and Noxians alike, whose corpses were so disfigured that they would be unrecognizable if not for their uniforms, their weapons, and their name tags identifying who they once were. The day she had been truly exposed to the corruption that plagued the nation she loved so much.

Riven vowed to redeem Noxus back in Coeur Valley when she shattered her blade and exiled herself. She will return to her former glory. She will be pure once more.

She will survive.

Riven stood up shakily as her vision dimmed and blurred, carefully making her way to the sink. She splashed the cool water onto her face and gargled until the taste and feeling of the caustic bile had completely left her mouth and throat.

She looked up and studied herself in the mirror. Her white hair stuck to her tanned skin, which was slick with sweat. Her scars were prominent, both the ones she received by blade and those caused by the Zaunite chemicals. She lifted a rough, calloused finger to the small patch of chemically scarred skin on her left cheek and gently brushed over it, wincing as she remembered how the small amount of acid had splashed onto her face that day. No one besides her has ever seen this particular scar uncovered since she hides it with white war paint everyday, even though she wasn't particularly concerned about appearances. She didn't want anyone to see it.

She saw her scars as more than just marks on her skin. They were individual stories etched permanently onto her body. Each one told a unique tale about her life. She had always appreciated the scars she gained in combat. They were painful lessons, proof that she could overcome anything that stood in her way. They were nothing to be ashamed of.

But now she had disgusting chemical burns on her face and arm, constant reminders of the shameful battle at Coeur Valley that brought back the memories and the pain. They were the sickening result of a fallen Noxus—a Noxus that has been corrupted and lost.

Riven shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. There was no reason for her to get so worked up about it right now. Not right now, not so soon, or else the memories would return.

She gingerly stroked the chemically scarred skin on her forearm and groaned when she felt a growing pain. She would have to visit Soraka again in the morning. The remnants of the poison still lingered in her flesh, burning her to this day, so corrupt that not even the Starchild could completely heal her. Sure, her healing powers dulled the pain, but Riven still had to see her every week for a checkup or else the pain became unbearable. She didn't mind though, at least not anymore. Soraka grew to become someone she could trust, and Riven's only friend.

But it was the middle of the night, and she didn't want to wake Soraka. Riven wasn't going back to sleep any time soon either; she didn't want to risk another nightmare.

Riven stretched her sore muscles, her body stiff and aching for any type of movement. A walk would probably be her best option. It was Snowdown, and the Institute was covered in lights and decorations. The fresh air and festivity would do her some good.

She reached for a fresh roll of bandages and wrapped up her corroded forearm, making sure that it hugged her skin snugly. Then she opened a container filled with thick white war paint and covered up the scar on her face until all that could be seen was the distinctive white streak she was known for.

She doubted anyone would be awake and out at this hour, but she wanted to look somewhat presentable in case she ran into anyone.

Riven put on some thick clothing. She didn't want to make Soraka worry about her even more than she needed to. It was the least she could do to alleviate her friend's concerns about her health.

She stepped into the dimly lit hallway which was rather plain compared to other places in the Institute. Riven was housed with other champions who were considered unaffiliated with factions like Demacia and Noxus. Although she's a Noxian through and through, she's also a self-imposed exile. She declined the offer of living in the Noxian wing when she first joined the League, although she sometimes regrets her decision.

She wasn't going to deny that she was extremely homesick, but she couldn't afford to go back until she was ready to bring Noxus back to her former glory.

She had to be ready.

Riven walked aimlessly through the various corridors in the Institute of War, admiring all the different Snowdown decorations. The cheerful atmosphere during the holidays always made her feel better, or at least provided her with a pleasant distraction.

She looked out a window and into the Institute's garden. The garden was always beautiful, thanks to Zyra's efforts, but the snow made it look even more enchanting than usual.

She pushed open the door that led outside and inhaled the cool air, watching in fascination as her warm breath visibly left her mouth.

Riven smiled slightly. She was feeling better already.

As she strolled through the enormous garden, looking at all the different types of plants, she noticed a strange red light through some leaves. She pushed away the foliage blocking her view and saw four floating blades that surrounded a glowing red orb. Behind it was its owner, who was on her knees for some reason.

Riven approached her carefully, the snow crunching softly beneath her feet.

She barely entered the clearing before a firm voice called out to her.

"Exile."

Riven jolted, startled by the sudden noise. She watched as the woman got up, carrying a basket filled with various types of plants.

"What are you doing here?" Riven mentally slapped herself when she heard the words come out of her mouth. She sounded ruder than she anticipated, not to mention she was the one sneaking up on Irelia. She knew that the other warrior was not fond of Noxians, not after the war. She didn't want any trouble with the Ionians, and Irelia would be the worst one to offend. Well, besides Syndra probably.

The Ionian scoffed and regarded Riven with disdain. "I could ask you the same question, Noxian." She paused for a brief moment. "I'm gathering herbs."

Riven nodded in response, choosing to not question Irelia's actions further.

But she still had one more thing to ask about.

"Aren't you cold?" Riven couldn't help herself, seeing how Irelia was wearing her typical armor. Which was completely made of metal. And she was wearing it outside in the winter. At night. While. It. Was. Snowing.

Just looking at Irelia made Riven shiver.

She didn't expect the long silence that followed her question. It was like she was interrogating Irelia. Riven suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable until she heard a stiff reply. "I suppose."

Riven didn't know what to say in response to that, and she was never one to be bothered by silence in a conversation. But for some reason, the quietness now was agonizing.

"Your weapon. It's uh, very interesting." Riven gave her a strained smile, her crimson eyes darting back and forth between the sword and its owner.

Irelia frowned, her brow furrowing, her sharp eyes staring into Riven's. Riven's smile faltered under the intense gaze, the corners of her lips lowering ever so slightly.

"What do you want?" Irelia scowled, irritation clearly shown on her face.

"N-nothing! I was just curious about it." Riven held up her hands in a placating manner in an attempt to calm down the other woman.

Irelia studied Riven with a distrustful look that caused Riven to sigh.

"Look, I know you hate Noxians. You have no reason not to. The Noxian invasion brought great tragedy to your people." Riven hesitated, thinking over what she should say next.

She was never good with words. She had always thought actions were more important than words, but ever since she left Noxus she'd been facing more and more problems that couldn't be solved with violence. One wrong word could prove to be extremely dangerous, just like how one wrong move could be fatal on the battlefield. She had to word everything carefully, lest she anger Irelia further.

"I was at Coeur Valley, fighting the Ionians." She breathed in before continuing, her voice slightly shaky. "They beat us. The Ionians deserved to win, but…" Riven stopped talking abruptly, a large dry lump forming in her throat as if she was choking on her words.

She could hear the screams again, she could see the death again. She shut her eyes forcefully and sharply inhaled. Riven counted to ten in her head. Soraka told her to count when she felt distressed. Something to make her feel better.

One. Two. Three.

She wasn't there anymore. These visions weren't real. At least, they weren't happening right now.

Four. Five. Six.

It was over. The war was over, the invasion was over, and she's not fighting in it anymore. She's fighting a different battle now, and she will win this time. She must win this time.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Riven was alive. She was still alive. She survived, and she will survive.

Ten.

She was fine, or at least she was fine for now. She will be fine for the time being, as long as she keeps convincing herself that nothing was wrong.

Even though everything was obviously wrong, she paid that no mind. She kept telling herself that everything was fine. It was a lie. A white lie that wasn't really a white lie, but one that was going to destroy her, one that'll torment her for as long as she says that it's OK, that everything's fine and nothing's wrong.

She tells herself that to survive.

She was already destroying herself.

She had to.

Riven slowly opened her eyes and looked down at her feet, not daring to look Irelia in the eye. She couldn't and she wouldn't. Riven didn't need to see Irelia's face to know what expression the Ionian was wearing, and she didn't want to see it. She could only look at the ground in her shame.

Slowly, her mouth formed words that dripped from her mouth like a thick venom, her lips curling back in ire. "Noxus refused to lose, refused to accept defeat, even though we were beaten in fair combat." She grit her teeth and clenched her fists, shaking with barely restrained frustration and shivering from the cold.

A moment passed, and Riven's anger subsided. Guilt replaced it, a feeling she was not familiar with until that fateful day. "I'm sorry. No one deserves to die like that. Not Noxians, not Ionians, not even Demacians. No one. Ionia didn't deserve to lose so much when they should have won. My apology doesn't make up for anything, but I just want you to know that I'm sorry about what happened. I needed you to know, and I hope you needed to know too."

Riven turned her back to Irelia, not looking up, still staring at the snow below her feet. "Forgive me if you can, but I don't expect you to. I won't blame you if you don't." She left the clearing, feeling Irelia's hardened gaze on her the entire time.

She stopped abruptly, looking over her shoulder, slightly surprised at what she saw. Irelia's expression had softened considerably, but her sharp eyes were still analyzing Riven.

Riven opened her mouth to say more, but the words died in her throat as her passion died down and her mind cleared up.

Irelia didn't want to even see Riven, let alone talk to her, but here she was rambling about redemption as if the Ionian was her therapist. As if they were friends. As if Riven's brain didn't register Irelia's feelings of disgust and contempt when she had first seen the Noxian.

Riven quickly turned her head away, suddenly embarrassed about the situation she was in. She was sweating, but it wasn't even hot. It was cold, but she felt hot. She felt like she was going to throw up again.

Oh gods, she's going to throw up again.

"Goodnight" was all Riven could manage to say before she nearly sprinted back indoors, away from Irelia, away from the past and her problems.