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Meanwhile, Sarah had been staring at a particular name on the bounty board for quite some time—
Gangplank.
Her gray eyes, usually sharp and steady, were clouded with something darker… older.
Abigail noticed immediately. A mother always does.
Of course she knew why her daughter's gaze lingered on that name more than the others.
The man responsible for shattering their peaceful life…
The man who stole everything from them and nearly took Sarah's life as well.
Abigail gently placed a hand over Sarah's, leaning closer so only she could hear.
"Sweetheart… don't dwell on it," she whispered softly, her tone warm but firm—the voice of a mother who had seen too much pain already. "You don't need to carry that weight anymore."
Sarah blinked, her gray eyes trembling slightly before she exhaled and nodded.
"I know, Mom… I get it," she murmured.
The bitterness in her chest didn't disappear, but she pushed it down. She had to.
For her mother's sake. For her own sake.
Abigail smiled—a soft, relieved smile that carried years of grief and gratitude all at once.
She squeezed Sarah's hand.
"That's my girl," she whispered.
Around them, bounty hunters drank, laughed, and shouted, unaware of the small, quiet storm settling inside Sarah Fortune.
Bilgewater was a city built on revenge and blood debts… but Abigail refused to let her daughter drown in that same sea.
And for the first time since they'd arrived, Sarah finally looked away from Gangplank's name—
though deep in her gray eyes, a faint spark still lingered…
Not hatred.
Not vengeance.
But resolve.
A promise she kept only to herself.
One day…
but not today.
...
More and more people began filtering into the bar. Most of them weren't there to drink—they were there to watch. In Bilgewater, information always came before violence, and these locals were clearly trying to learn more about Raviel's group before deciding whether robbing them would be worth the risk.
Several men openly stared at the women without even bothering to hide it, their gazes lingering in ways that made Jill and Excella visibly uncomfortable. Whispers followed them wherever they moved, low voices mixing with the clink of bottles and the creak of the bar's old wooden floorboards. Raviel, Sarah, and Abigail, however, seemed largely unfazed—Bilgewater stares were nothing more than background noise to them.
Excella leaned closer to Jill, her voice lowered. "Hey… do you see those guys?" she murmured. "They've been staring at us nonstop. It's really starting to creep me out."
"Yeah, I noticed," Jill replied quietly, her eyes never stopping their slow sweep of the room. One hand rested near her gauntlet, fingers flexing slightly. She had been on edge ever since they entered—Bilgewater felt like a powder keg, and she could almost hear the fuse burning.
She exhaled softly. "I seriously wonder if we can actually find a decent gift for Allen in a place like this," Jill continued, skepticism clear in her tone. "This is the biggest black market hub in all of Runeterra. Illegal weapons, cursed relics, monster parts… I get why things sell here, but what kind of place recommends a black market for a gift?"
Her gaze narrowed as she thought. What exactly did Raviel expect us to find here? she wondered.
Before Excella could respond, Raviel turned slightly, clearly having overheard them. She smiled calmly, completely at ease despite the hostile curiosity filling the room.
"Hey, Jill," Raviel said lightly. "You're way too tense. Relax. I'm right here—there's no need to worry about small things like wandering eyes."
Jill glanced at her. "Small things?"
Raviel chuckled softly. "And don't worry. Even if we don't find something perfect here, we can always gather information. Bilgewater is amazing for that. If something special exists anywhere in Runeterra, someone here knows about it."
Jill let out a slow breath and shrugged. "Yeah… fine. I'll leave it to you then. If something dangerous happens, I'm blaming you."
"That's fair," Raviel replied with an amused nod.
Excella's attention suddenly shifted as she glanced toward the docks visible through the bar's open side. Massive slabs of butchered sea monsters were being hauled away, their scales, teeth, and fins piled high like trophies.
"Raviel," she said, her scientific curiosity clearly ignited, "would it be okay if I took a few samples later? Blood, tissue—maybe bone fragments from those sea monsters. Studying them could be very useful for my research."
Raviel tilted her head, considering it for a moment before smiling. "Hmm. Sure. Once we're done with our business here, I'll take you to the processing area. ."
Excella's eyes lit up. "Really? Thanks.," she said, far too enthusiastically.
Not long after, the elderly cashier who managed the bounty hunter's dock returned, carrying a heavy pouch of coin. He placed it carefully on the counter before them and gave a polite nod.
"Excuse me, ladies. This is your payment for capturing those pirates. Please feel free to count it first, just to be certain," he said, forcing a friendly smile that carried both professionalism and caution.
Raviel glanced at the pouch, then waved her hand casually. "No need. We're in a bit of a hurry. Still, thank you for your efficiency," she replied calmly before turning to Jill and the others. "Alright, let's head to the nearest black market first."
At that, Abigail stepped forward, her tone respectful but confident. "Miss Raviel, if you don't mind, I can guide the way. I know a few… decent places around here."
Raviel smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll leave it to you, then."
She lifted the coin pouch with ease—it was heavy, filled with more than enough gold to draw unwanted attention—and with that, the group moved out together.
Before long, they made their way toward High and Dry, one of Bilgewater's more infamous trade districts. It was a place Abigail occasionally visited when she needed rare materials or illegal components for crafting her custom weapons. The streets there were narrower, dirtier, and far more crowded, filled with shouts of merchants, clanking armor, and the low murmur of dangerous negotiations.
Unlike the docks, High and Dry attracted a different kind of crowd.
Several well-dressed travelers—clearly nobles or wealthy patrons—walked through the streets, each trailed by armed escorts. These guards bore equipment and fighting styles from many regions: disciplined soldiers with Noxian steel, sun-scorched warriors from Shurima, fur-clad mercenaries from the Freljord, calm and composed Ionian blades, and even a few Demacian knights who kept their insignias carefully hidden beneath cloaks.
Here, everyone disguised themselves.
In Bilgewater, it was safer not to know who your neighbor truly served—especially when some of those nations were openly at war elsewhere in Runeterra.
...
They soon stepped into a small shop tucked between two leaning buildings. As the door opened, a bell above it chimed softly, announcing the arrival of customers. The shopkeeper immediately looked up—but froze in shock when she saw who had entered.
"Abigail? Is that really you?" the woman blurted out, disbelief written all over her face. "I thought you were dead."
Abigail pulled back her hood, revealing her face at last, and smiled wryly as she stepped closer. "Hey, you look a little disappointed to see I'm still alive, Lara."
Lara stared at her for a long second before bursting into laughter. "Don't be ridiculous. If you were dead, I'd lose one of my best regulars." She hurried over and wrapped Abigail in a tight hug before stepping back and flipping the sign on the door, locking it shut. The wooden bolt slid into place with a dull thunk.
"Well then," Lara said, glancing at the others, "it seems you've brought me some customers. That alone is strange enough—but you walking around with strangers?" She narrowed her eyes, concern creeping into her voice. "That's not like you at all. Care to explain what's going on?"
Abigail exhaled slowly. "It's… a long story."
Lara smiled softly. "Good. I've got time. Why don't I make you all something to eat while I listen?" She turned toward Raviel, Jill, Excella, and Sarah. "You're all welcome here."
Abigail looked to Raviel. Raviel nodded lightly. "That sounds fine to me."
Not long after, they were seated around a sturdy wooden table, plates and mugs laid out before them. Lara served steaming dishes made mostly from sea-monster meat—thick cuts, richly seasoned, still sizzling. Jill and Excella hesitated at first, both clearly unsure about eating something that had once tried to eat them back. But after a few cautious bites, their expressions changed.
"…Okay," Jill admitted, surprised. "This is actually really good."
Excella nodded thoughtfully. "The texture's strange, but the flavor is fascinating. I can see why people here like it."
Lara smiled proudly, hands on her hips. "Not bad for Bilgewater cooking, right?"
As the conversation continued, Lara's eyes kept drifting toward Sarah. There was something familiar there—something that tugged at her memory.
"…Abigail," Lara finally said carefully, "is she your daughter?"
Abigail nodded. "Yes."
Lara frowned slightly, confusion clear on her face. "But your daughter had blonde hair, just like you. Why is her hair red now?"
Abigail went quiet for a moment. Then she began to explain—carefully choosing her words. She spoke of loss, of tragedy, of things taken too soon. She did not mention how she herself had returned from death, nor did she reveal Raviel's true nature. Some truths, especially divine ones, were better left hidden.
When she finished, the room fell into a heavy silence.
Lara didn't know what to say at first. Eventually, she reached across the table and squeezed Abigail's hand. "I'm… I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you went through." She managed a small smile. "I just hope you and your daughter are okay now."
"Thank you, Lara," Abigail replied softly. "As you can see… I am no longer alone. For now, I'll be following Lady Raviel."
Lara glanced at Raviel again, her curiosity deepening—but she said nothing more. Besides, in Bilgewater, it's best not to ask too many questions if you don't want to get into trouble later.
.....
Not long after that conversation, Lara disappeared into the back of the shop and returned carrying several carefully wrapped items—her finest stock, gathered over many years. Judging by the refined aura of the women standing before her, she was certain they wouldn't be disappointed.
"Go on," Lara said with a confident smile, laying the items out on the counter. "Pick whatever catches your eye. I'm sure something here will interest you."
Raviel's gaze immediately locked onto three softly glowing eggs displayed in a reinforced glass case. Each one radiated a gentle, living aura. "Hmm… these are quite rare," she said thoughtfully. "Did you acquire these eggs from Ionia?"
Lara laughed lightly, clearly impressed. "You've got a sharp eye. Yes, Ionian companion-beast eggs. Not easy to come by, and even harder to keep alive during transport. So—are you interested?"
Instead of answering right away, Raviel glanced toward Jill and Excella. Both women were already leaning closer, their expressions making their thoughts obvious.
"We'll take them," Jill said, nodding firmly. Excella nodded in agreement.
Jill gently reached out toward an egg that glowed with a faint crimson light, warmth pulsing beneath the shell like a heartbeat. Excella chose a blue one instead, mist swirling faintly inside as if clouds were trapped beneath the surface.
Raviel picked up the last egg—a vibrant green one, pulsing with calm, steady life—and turned toward Sarah. She knelt slightly and placed it into the girl's hands.
"For you," Raviel said softly.
Sarah blinked in surprise, then her gray eyes lit up. "Is… is this really for me?"
Raviel smiled and gently patted her head. "Of course. It's yours."
Sarah hugged the egg close, unable to hide her happiness.
Raviel then turned to Abigail. "You too. Pick something you like. And don't worry about the price—I've got it covered."
Abigail hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with being spoiled, but Raviel's smile carried an unmistakable warmth… and intent. She wasn't just being generous.
After all, Raviel already saw them as people who would eventually become part of her family. And what kind of family head didn't spoil her own?
A harmless indulgence now, Raviel thought—though the devious glint in her eyes suggested she knew exactly what she was doing.
Autor : Such a cunning woman.
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