The soft orange hues of a rising sun kissed the tops of Piltover's spires, bathing the Bridge of Progress in a glow that made the brass gears and steel fixtures glint like gold. Tarren and Caitlyn walked in silence, their footsteps echoing faintly against the cobblestone path. Neither seemed eager to break the quiet, though for very different reasons.
Tarren's gaze kept drifting to the bundle of letters tucked inside his cloak, their weight far heavier than the paper they were written on. His fingers absently brushed over the embossed seals as doubts gnawed at him. Could Vander's vision of peace truly bridge the chasm between Piltover and the undercity? Or would it all crumble into yet another round of bloodshed and broken promises?
"Those letters must be awfully interesting," Caitlyn's voice cut through his thoughts. "You've been staring at them like they're going to sprout legs and walk away."
Tarren's lips curved into a faint smile as he tucked the letters securely back into his cloak. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Caitlyn raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by his coy response. "I would, actually. After tonight, I'm realizing there's a lot about you I don't know. Like… why you never told me about your parents."
Tarren stiffened, his footsteps slowing ever so slightly. "Ekko and Powder told you, didn't they?"
"They told me enough," Caitlyn said, her voice softer now. "I didn't press them, but it explains a lot. Why you keep your distance from the enforcers, why you avoid talking about your past… You could've told me, Tarren."
"And what would you have done with that knowledge?" he countered. "Feel sorry for me? Condemn an entire institution? You're better off not knowing, Cait. Trust me."
Caitlyn frowned but said nothing, instead glancing down at the cobblestones. After a beat of silence, she murmured, "What would you think if I became an enforcer?"
Tarren just chuckled. "An enforcer?"
"Don't look so shocked," she said defensively. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. I want to help people, Tarren. Protect them. Isn't that what enforcers are supposed to do?"
Tarren's expression softened. "If that's what you want, then do it. You don't need my approval."
"But you don't trust enforcers," Caitlyn pressed, quickening her pace to keep up with him. "Wouldn't that mean you wouldn't trust me? That you'll stay away from me?"
Tarren let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "You're not just some faceless enforcer, Cait. You're my friend. That makes all the difference."
Caitlyn studied him for a moment, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You're full of contradictions, you know that?"
"It's called nuance," Tarren quipped, grinning.
By the time they reached the gates of the Kirraman estate, the chill in the air had deepened, the morning sun doing little to stave off the cold.
Tarren reached for the gate's bell, but Caitlyn grabbed his arm. "Wait," she said hurriedly. "Maybe I should just sneak in—"
Before she could finish, the estate's grand front door swung open, and out stormed Cassandra Kirraman, her sharp features set in a mix of worry and anger. Behind her, Caitlyn's father lingered, his expression caught between relief and disapproval.
"Caitlyn!" Cassandra's voice was sharp enough to cut steel. She strode down the steps, pushing the gate open with a practiced efficiency that spoke of years of authority. She pulled Caitlyn into a tight embrace, her stern facade cracking just enough to reveal the depth of her worry. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been? Sneaking into the undercity—have you lost your mind?"
"Mother, I was just—"
"Ah!" Cassandra cut her off, pulling back and leveling her daughter with a glare. "We'll discuss this later, after your father ensures you're unharmed."
Meanwhile, Caitlyn's father turned his attention to Tarren, his gaze narrowing. "And you—what role did you play in this, Tarren? Did you take her to the undercity?"
Tarren opened his mouth to respond, but Caitlyn beat him to it. "No, Father. He found me there and brought me back."
"Oh?" Cassandra's eyes flicked to Tarren. "You've been to the undercity, then?"
"Just visiting family," Tarren replied smoothly. "I happened to come across Caitlyn by chance. For the record, I told her this was a foolish stunt and that she should face the consequences."
Caitlyn shot him a glare, but he ignored it.
"Well," Cassandra said, her expression softening just a fraction. "Thank you for bringing her home. I'm sure you haven't slept tonight, so I won't keep you."
Tarren nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Kirraman."
He watched as the Kirramans ushered Caitlyn through the gate and into the house, Cassandra already lecturing her daughter in low but firm tones. As the door clicked shut behind them, Tarren stood there for a moment, the cold morning air biting through his cloak.
His hand drifted to the letter meant for Councillor Kirraman, the wax seal still unbroken. But tonight, what he had seen in front of him isn't a councillor—rather, a mother. And right now, Vander's plea for Zaun could wait.
Tucking the letter back into his cloak, Tarren turned and began the long walk home, the first rays of sunlight casting his shadow ahead of him. For now, he'd rest.