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You had started pit fighting so you could save money and maybe search for your sister Isha.

You were too young for it, in Vis opinion.

She almost choked on the bacteria-filled water she was chugging when she saw you-a child- in the backstage area of the fighting pit.

A little kid who was far too much like how she had been. A tempered, little, scrawny, kid.

And… that was how you got here. Standing infront of some big manor in Piltover, in the rain, as Vi held your wrist, knocking on the door. “Cupcake, answer the Fucking door! It’s important!” She snarled, her voice hoarse from the amount of blood she’d spat out during fights.