Chapter Text
Viktoria steadies herself with a hand on the top of Dohlí’s head, blinking back the familiar twinge in her lower back at the partly-bent posture she adopts to do so. Dohlí peers around the corner, tongue flickering out, before she glances back up at Viktoria. “Can I—”
She nods, straightening again, and Dohlí drops back to all fours. “Could you see anything?”
“There’s one enforcer, but it seems he has a rodent dæmon. Not an attentive one, either. They won’t notice if we can stay quiet.”
Viktoria exhales in relief, stabilizing herself against the wall, just to clear her head from the pain for a moment. “Alright,” she says finally, and Dohlí’s head tilts upwards, slightly, the end of her tail just barely curling.
They slip around the corner, going the opposite direction of the enforcer, and Dohlí keeps her head high the whole time. She matches her pace to Viktoria’s, providing what little support she can for her counterpart as they hurry towards the embellished door at the end of the hall.
Without her cane, Viktoria’s slower, yes, but she’s also quieter. And, considering the reason for their subterfuge, that is the more important factor.
They reach the door and Viktoria fumbles in her pocket, cursing under her breath as she pulls the keys out only to drop them. Dohlí’s head is there, though, catching them in time before they can clatter against the floor. Viktoria nods in thanks, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the water monitor’s head where the keys had fallen before she turns to unlock the door.
The grandiose doors must reach twelve feet or more, carved of a deep red wood and shined to a sheen that catches the light coming from around the corner at the end of the hall. Bookcases fill the walls, curving just around the doors and the stairs on the far end, with another large space scratched out for three windows—even taller than the doors— overlooking Piltover’s Academy District. In the middle of the room, two large tables filled with delicate instruments take up most of the space, a few books lying haphazardly on the floor beside them. As always, Viktoria and Dohlí find their gazes drawn to the ceiling, where constellations from across Runeterra are strewn across a deep grey inlay, waiting patiently to shine more brightly upon nightfall.
“Professor?” Viktoria calls out, though she’s already well aware that he’s not here. Still, best to double check, particularly before she and Dohlí actually do anything that Heimerdinger would consider to be…ill-advised.
Dohlí’s forked tongue flicks out as she scents the air, shaking her head. “He’s not here.”
Nodding, Viktoria steps forward to the smaller of the two tables, eyes sliding instantly to the corner marked off with a hastily scribbled note reading, Restricted—Impounded Until Further Notice.
“This is all hers, then?” Dohlí asks, a hint of surprise in her voice as she tripods to get a better look. Viktoria nods again.
“Everything that was not confiscated by the enforcers as evidence, yes.”
“Hm. No wonder they’re scared of her, if it takes barely anything to cause an explosion that large.” Dohlí nudges a book onto the floor, nosing it open to scan over the pages. Above, Viktoria leafs through a few loose sheets, frowning before she picks up a small golden chest. “Everything in here, it’s all…the council would never approve of this, even if they could understand it, and even if it hadn’t caused an explosion.”
Viktoria hums in acknowledgement, gaze still fixed on the chest. Opening it, she sees—
It’s empty.
Twelve miniature claws sit, all closed. Still, Viktoria frowns at it, trying to ascertain what was even stored here in the first place. She’d hardly spared it a glance in the initial removal from Talis’s makeshift laboratory, but now…
“Vik?”
She looks down at the monitor, whose head is tilted just slightly to the right. “Yes, Doe?”
“Did you find something?”
“Mm, no, it’s empty.” She shakes her head, closing the chest and returning it to its previous spot. “We should be on our way soon, anyway.”
“Talis is…unorthodox, but I don’t think that even she would keep an empty chest around.” Dohlí nudges the book closed with a careful claw. “This is all far beyond the scope of anything the Academy could even dream of, and yet…it makes sense. If you’re willing to suspend belief of many things for a moment, at least.”
Viktoria chuckles, already bending to grab it as Dohlí catches on and picks it up in her mouth. Carefully, she hands it over, eyeing Viktoria as she straightens and begins to flip through the pages.
“This is…fascinating.”
“Yes. The woman writes with a fervor.”
Nodding, Viktoria doesn’t dare look up from the book, lips twitching as she notes the bottom right of each page, tapping it with a forefinger as she leans back against the lab table. “She signs everything she does, too. Jaycelyn Talis. She could have spared herself the time and paper and just left initials.”
“It seems that she does not do anything in half measures.”
“Mm, no; no she does not.” Viktoria continues to flip through the pages before finally closing the book with a sigh, pushing a thumb and forefinger against the spot on her lower back that always seems to twinge with pain no matter what she does. “I think it is time we head back to the apartment, though. I would like to think over all of this…Hextech, of course, but without the return walk looming ahead. My back already does not appreciate our efforts today.”
Dohlí nods, circling to find herself at Viktoria’s side again. “Alright. They shouldn’t be keeping so close an eye on us on the way back; we can take our time.”
She nods, but her gaze still lingers on the book. She’s drawn to it, the same way she found herself drawn to a mottled waverider too trusting for her own good, and to ultraviolet flowers scrabbling for life amidst the drainage of Piltover’s lofty whims. She thumbs over the leather corner, and the journal feels weightier in her hand, somehow.
The water monitor nudges her left thigh, and slowly, Viktoria pulls her gaze from the book and to her partner.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Dohlí says, unblinking eyes staring her down. “We can still just leave this here, put Heimerdinger’s keys back, and pretend to be none the wiser.”
Viktoria stares at the journal, pulse rabbiting in her throat as her eyes trace the sharp lines of the T, the sigil of House Talis quite literally hammered into the skin of the Academy’s most feared tome. “I know,” she says, quiet. Still holding the book, she turns away from the table, Dohlí falling into step alongside, and makes for the door.