It was well past midnight when Tarren returned to The Last Drop. The bar was locked up, its usual liveliness replaced by an eerie stillness. Inside, a faint light glowed from the main hall, where Thieram, one of Vander's newer workers, methodically mopped the floor. His movements were slow, each stroke of the mop seeming to reflect the exhaustion of the long day.
As Tarren stepped in with Caitlyn, Ekko, and Powder trailing behind, Thieram looked up, narrowing his eyes. "We're closed," he said gruffly, his mop pausing mid-stroke.
But when his gaze fell on Ekko and Powder, he softened. "Never mind," he added, offering a small nod. Everyone in the undercity knew Vander's kin.
Tarren didn't waste time. "Where's Vander?"
"Upstairs," Thieram replied, jerking his head toward the staircase.
"Thanks." Tarren turned to Caitlyn. "Wait here. Don't go wandering off."
Before Caitlyn could protest, Tarren was already halfway up the stairs, his boots clunking softly against the wood.
The room fell silent as the door to Vander's office clicked shut behind Tarren. Caitlyn was left standing awkwardly in the dimly lit bar with Ekko and Powder.
Powder broke the silence first, plopping down at a nearby table. "You're just gonna stand there all night, or are you sitting with us?"
Caitlyn hesitated before sitting down across from the two. Her arms rested on the table, and she tapped her fingers nervously.
"You're, uh… Tarren's siblings, right?" Caitlyn asked, her voice uncertain.
Powder grinned mischievously. "He said that? Guess we kinda are."
Ekko leaned back in his chair. "We grew up with him. Same house for a while after the rebellion. After our parents…" He trailed off, his voice growing quieter.
"Rebellion?" Caitlyn frowned, leaning in slightly. "Your parents died during that?"
Powder's expression darkened, her grin fading. "What, he never told you?" Her tone was sharp, tinged with bitterness. "We watched them die. Him especially. Gunned down by your enforcers from topside."
Caitlyn froze, her face falling. "He… never told me in detail. I'm… sorry."
"Of course you are," Powder muttered, crossing her arms and looking away.
"Powder," Ekko said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She sighed, waving him off. "Sorry."
Ekko turned back to Caitlyn. "What about you? What's your deal with Tarren?"
"I'm just his… friend," Caitlyn said hesitantly.
"Friend?" Ekko raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you here?"
"I was curious," Caitlyn admitted. "Tarren always talks about how he misses this place, how Piltover doesn't feel like home to him. He said the undercity isn't as bad as the stories I've heard."
"And what stories have you heard?" Ekko asked, his voice probing.
"That it's full of crime, violence, and exploitation," Caitlyn said honestly.
Powder snorted. "Not completely wrong."
"But it's not what I expected," Caitlyn continued. "It's… different. It doesn't feel like anarchy."
"It wasn't always like this," Ekko said. "Things have calmed down in the last few years. Vander's done a lot to make this place safer."
Caitlyn nodded thoughtfully. "I can see that. A few years ago, I probably wouldn't have made it this far without being kidnapped." She chuckled nervously.
"Yeah, you probably wouldn't have," Ekko said with a small smile. "You should thank Tarren for finding you."
—
Upstairs, Tarren knocked on Vander's office door.
"Come in," Vander's deep voice rumbled from within.
Tarren pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was cluttered, stacks of papers and unwashed glasses scattered across the desk. Vander sat behind it, his large frame slouched as he sifted through a pile of documents.
"So, what do you want to talk to me about?" Tarren asked, closing the door behind him.
"Sit down first," Vander said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
Tarren did as he was told, watching as Vander leaned forward, resting his thick arms on the desk.
"Tarren," Vander began, his tone serious. "Tell me—do you love this place?"
Tarren raised an eyebrow. "What kind of question is that? Of course, I do. It's my home."
"Of course." Vander nodded slowly. "Good. Then I'll get to the point. You know Heimerdinger, right? And the council?"
"I know some of the council members," Tarren said cautiously. "And yes, I know Heimerdinger. He's my mentor, as I said."
"Perfect." Vander reached into a drawer and pulled out a stack of letters, each sealed with a wax emblem of Zaun. "I need you to deliver these to Heimerdinger and anyone else on the council you think will listen to you."
"What's in them?" Tarren asked, eyeing the letters.
"A request," Vander said simply.
"For what?"
"A hearing," Vander replied. "For the future of this place."
"For Zaun," Tarren said quietly.
Vander nodded. "This peace we've built—it's fragile. But it's ours. They've taken enough from us, and I won't let them profit off our suffering anymore. I want to secure a future for Zaun, one where we're not under their thumb. But I need their ears first. And I need your help to get it."
Tarren sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It won't be easy. The council… they're protective of their power, they have, or at least, had, a lot of money being put here in the factories and trenchers."
"I know," Vander interrupted. "But we've bled for this peace, Tarren. I won't let it waste away without trying. No more bloodshed. Just words."
Tarren was silent for a moment before nodding. "I'll do it. But I'm not making any promises."
"That's all I'm asking," Vander said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Now, give me the names of the council members you trust, and I'll write to them personally."
Tarren hesitated. "Heimerdinger, obviously. Councillor Kiramman, my sponsor. And… Councillor Medarda. By the way, Councillor Kirraman's daughter is downstairs"
Vander raised an eyebrow. "What? How?"
"She snuck out and followed me here," Tarren admitted with a sigh.
"How old is she?"
"Eighteen," Tarren said. "That's why I think I can't stay here for the week, I need to get her back topside as soon as possible."
Vander chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright. Let me finish these letters, and you can go."
Tarren nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Take your time."