Arcane: Red Sands

The garrison's gates creaked shut behind him, but Su'Rhaal barely noticed. The Morning breeze brushed against his skin, doing little to temper the heat boiling inside him. Each step he took was heavy with restrained fury, his fists clenching and unclenching as if searching for an outlet.

Zanaiya followed him silently, her spear in hand. She didn't call out to him this time. She knew words wouldn't reach him—not now. Instead, she watched him from a distance, studying the tension in his movements, the way his shoulders hunched and his breath came faster than it should.

He was unraveling.

"Come with me," she said finally, her voice calm and steady.

Su stopped, his crimson eyes narrowing as he turned to her. For a moment, he didn't move. Then, without a word, he followed her.

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The courtyard she led him to was a remnant of a bygone age. Though now repurposed as a training ground for Noxian soldiers, its architecture bore the unmistakable marks of Shurima's ancient glory.

Two colossal statues flanked the arena, each carved from sunlit sandstone. One depicted a towering jackal-headed figure, a staff held aloft as if commanding the heavens. The other was a hulking, crocodile-headed warrior, his claws outstretched in a gesture of unrelenting ferocity. Their postures spoke of a battle frozen in time, the tension between them palpable even in stone.

Between the statues, faded carvings of the Sun Disk adorned the walls, their intricate patterns worn by time and war. The sand beneath their feet was marked with the scars of countless drills and duels—a space where warriors forged themselves through fire and sweat.

Zanaiya walked to the weapon rack, selecting two spears. She tossed one to Su, who caught it in silence.

She didn't speak as she stepped into the center of the courtyard, her stance light and balanced. The spear in her hands was an extension of her body, its tip glinting in the torchlight.

Su stood at the edge of the circle, his fingers tightening around the shaft of his spear. He knew what she was doing. He also knew she was right.

He stepped into the circle.

The first strike came quickly. Zanaiya lunged, her movements fluid and deliberate, testing his guard. Su parried instinctively, the clash of their spears echoing in the quiet courtyard.

They circled each other, the tension between them palpable. Su's strikes were hard and fast, fueled by raw strength and emotion. Zanaiya countered with precision and control, each movement calculated to exploit his openings.

Their weapons clashed again and again, the sound sharp and rhythmic. Su's strikes grew heavier, more forceful, as if he were trying to drive out the frustration simmering inside him.

Zanaiya danced around him, her spear moving like a serpent. "You're fighting like you're angry," she said, her voice calm but edged with challenge.

Su didn't respond, his crimson eyes locked onto her. He lunged forward with a powerful thrust, but she sidestepped, the butt of her spear striking his side with enough force to make him stagger.

"Focus," she said, her tone firm. "Control your anger, or it'll control you."

Su's movements became faster, more aggressive. He pressed forward with a flurry of strikes, his strength forcing Zanaiya onto the defensive.

But she held her ground, her spear spinning in tight arcs as she deflected each attack. Sweat beaded on her brow, but her focus never wavered.

"You think this will make you stronger?" she asked, her voice cutting through the clash of their weapons.

Su gritted his teeth, his grip tightening. He swung his spear in a wide arc, the tip narrowly missing her as she ducked beneath it.

"You're reckless," she said, her tone sharper now. "You're fighting like a man with something to prove, blinded by guilt."

As they fought, the statues of the Ascended brothers loomed over them, their silent forms casting long shadows across the sand. The jackal-headed figure seemed to watch with quiet wisdom, while the crocodile-headed warrior exuded a primal, unyielding rage.

For a brief moment, Su glanced at the statues. The tension between them mirrored something inside him—a battle of control versus chaos.

That moment of distraction cost him. Zanaiya's spear struck his side, sending him stumbling back.

"Focus," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the air like her weapon. "Or you'll lose more than a sparring match."

The words struck a nerve. Su growled, his next strike carrying more force than necessary. Zanaiya sidestepped again, her spear coming up to meet his chest. The blow sent him stumbling back, the air rushing from his lungs.

For a moment, he stood there, breathing heavily, his spear lowered.

"This reminds me of him," Zanaiya said quietly, her voice carrying a weight that made Su's chest tighten.

He looked at her, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Who?"

"You know who," she replied, her gaze steady. "Varros."

The name hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.

Su's grip on his spear loosened slightly, his gaze dropping to the sand. He didn't speak, but the tension in his posture shifted.

Zanaiya watched him carefully, her own spear lowered. She saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the crack in the wall he'd built around himself.

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From the shadows of the courtyard, Samira leaned against the wall, her golden eye fixed on the scene before her. She had followed them out of curiosity, her instincts telling her that whatever was happening between Su and Zanaiya was worth seeing.

What she saw wasn't the relentless "Demon of the Desert." she'd heard about in hushed whispers. This was something else—something raw and human.

Su was strong, yes, but there was something beneath his strength. A vulnerability he hid behind his stoic exterior.

Samira's gaze shifted to Zanaiya. The older woman's movements were graceful, her strikes purposeful, but it was her presence that struck Samira most. She wasn't just a mentor to Su—she was a tether, grounding him when he was on the verge of losing himself.

Interesting, Samira thought, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

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The sparring match ended without a winner. Su returned his spear to the rack, his movements slower now, the fury that had driven him dissipating into exhaustion.

Zanaiya approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll talk later." she said.

He didn't respond, but the faintest nod told her he understood.

As they left the courtyard, Samira lingered in the shadows for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling.

"Not what I expected," she murmured to herself, before turning and walking away.