Maybe this was a reincarnation of that story. Maybe this was another example of the light and the shadow that it casts, battling to overthrow one another. Her grandmother always said, wherever one would turn to cast their eyes, they would find examples of the undying battle.

Left with open wounds in her heart, Luxanna mourned silently, for everyone that fell in line. For everyone that fell victim to the oppression of the system she represented and served and protected. For everyone that suffered under the boots of the same privilege she bore.

Two minutes later and she has already made way to the exit of the palace. Striding on her high heels across the floor of marble, the noble frequent reconnects with the lower level of Demacia. Where the common folk tread, below the monarch and his court that towered over them.

Luxanna raised her head to the throne room, shallowed her sorrow and dropped the hood of her coat over her head. A moment later and she is gone.

Her estate in the capital has indeed become a shrine in all the chaos that surrounded it. A building of gorgeous design, funded ironically by her family, it has become synonymous with a safe place for the many that go unnoticed by the guards on the streets.

When the gates close behind her, Luxanna knows no eyes can pry to see her in her most private moments, in the space that gives her room to breathe and release the tensions hypocrisy and sadness build within her. But most importantly, they cannot see those she hosts here.

The weight the name Crownguard carries is heavy enough to fend off any unexpected checks from the magic seekers, misguided fanatics Luxanna despises from the bottom of their hearts. She was witness to their brutality and ruthlessness once and she was never the same again.

Benefiting from her social power in Demacia, Luxanna gives shelter to young wizards from across the city at the basement, a spacy area she renovated to give /some/ comfort and hospitality to its vibe, along with some beds to spend the night those that need it.

Luxanna never expected for her offer to find positive response. She always believed, up to this point, the others would not be able to see what connected them, but rather, what differed them, her wealth and her immunity to the savage laws of the nation.

It was an unexpected and positive surprise to see so much gratitude for her helping hand. So much enthusiasm and joy sparked into the burdened souls of the weaker.

Now, she acted as a mentor to a small group of a few. The elementalist taught them how to control their powers and channel them at will or to hide them from the authorities; how to evolve and to prosper; mainly she taught them: they were not the monsters they believed to be.

The second she makes it to the basement, a mob of children and teenagers rush to embrace her like the young embrace their mother. In a way, she was a mother to them, a responsibility that sometimes made her uneasy.

«You were late, Lux. We were afraid something might have happened to you!»

She laughs the notion off and ruffles the messy curls of a boy that seemed no older than nine. With piercing, grey eyes and a crown of blazing red hair, gifted with the element of fire. Of all her pupils, this one she could not help but like the most.

«Andre said Sylas killed someone just outside the gates. I thought Sylas was a good person!» She shallows her breath and silently curses. The news travel fast. «He is! He didn't. . . /kill/ someone. He hurt someone and sometimes, even good people do bad things!»

The boy seemed far from convinced. «But I heard them, the guards! They said he killed someone! Killing someone is bad, you said that!» «I did, because it's true! Don't listen to just anyone around you, Spark,» a nickname she had made for him specifically. «I promise you.»

«Sylas is a good person, and I need all of you to trust me. I can tell you he would never hurt you or me or your family. He is just, confused. Sometimes, all of us get confused.» Lately she has done a lot of confusing herself. «Are you afraid he would ever hurt you?»

The young Spark nods. «Or that he would hurt you! I don't like people that kill!» he insists. Luxanna softly giggles to try and ease the atmosphere. «He will never hurt me or any of you. Because he isn't a bad person. He never was and never will be. Do you have faith in me?»

They nod in unison and Luxanna guides them deeper into the clumsy replica of a classroom to move on to their lessons. But her mind would be distracted for the rest of the day without a break.

Is too much faith a dangerous thing?