Dust, the Lost King
My first fanfic, I really don't know where I am going to go with this, so hold onto your seats it's probably going to be a mess ;P. It's about an OC I made in Shurima(I don't think there are enough Shurima ones, it's a cool place).It's going to be AU with some lorebreaking and I don't know what genre I'm going to make it yet either, soooo. Is not going to make sense at first so don't give up, I'll try to explain in an intelligent manner all the ideas shooting out of my brain right now. But anyways, it might be good, just please try to keep the flaming to a minimum, constructive criticism is appreciated. Hope you enjoy!
Abandoned, that was how he felt as he patrolled through over the ruins of his once great city. Lonely, every day, the monotonous undertaking of walking in between the shambles of temples and houses. The pain in his chest when he stood in the plazas and markets that he remembers used to be so brimming with life. It almost makes him cry, and that thought almost makes him laugh.
It's funny, he thinks to himself, I've had a couple thousand years to get over this, but these damned emotions are still here!
He almost gets angry at this thought too, but his emotional capacity dried up years ago, just like the city he walks through. For nothing is permanent under the harsh glare of the Shurima sun.
As he has these conflicting thoughts, he eventually reaches his destination, a medium sized square hut with what looks like an old dusty courtyard in the middle of it. He pushes away the fabric covering the entrance to the hut and enters what looks like the main room. He treads past an old stone chair and table, both covered with the same tan fabric draped over the door. He takes a quick glance at an old dusty tome and plié of scrolls spread across the table, but decides to look at them another day, for it is time to train.
He steps over some piles of rubble and cloth over to the entrance of a second room. As he enters, he heads straight over to a set of arms and armor laid down on the floor next to another cloth covered stone slab. (I say set, but it's actually just a hawk head shaped helmet, shin guards and a shirt made of one half scales of some coppery metal, and the other half the same light cloth he is already wearing. Along with a large scimitar and long dagger, both with hawk heads at the bottom of the hilts).
He removes the shirt he is already wearing, revealing a muscular torso covered with thin silver scars, and three long gashes going down his whole left side. Placing the pieces of armor on, except for the helmet, he picks up his sword and dagger and heads out yet another door into the courtyard in the back of the house.
He trudges over to a large area seemingly composed of a singular flat rock. He places his weapon down as he raises his arms above his head as his hands start to glow a reddish orange. Three bumps start to form in the stone as they rise and take place into large, crude human like constructs with glowing orange eyes. A different weapon begins to form in each of the stone men's hands, one a sword, one a spear, and one a club.
The man lowers his arms as the constructs are finished, picks up his blades and puts on his helm.
And so the training has begun yet again, he thinks to himself rather dully. He tried to mix it up in the past, but he stopped caring about that about a thousand years ago.
Now his days are always the same, patrol in the morning, practice swordsmanship after that and study the various scrolls scattered around his dwelling when he becomes bored with fighting mindless stone men. And so he fought, and thought about what led him to this sorry state of existing.
(Flashback Warning)
The city was alive around him as he walked through the bustling streets and roads of the thriving desert city Oasis. He was a king, and his people loved him. Men and children crying out, "Long live the king" and other such praises of his wellbeing. Mothers held out their newborns to him and begged for his blessing, which he graciously gave. He was a king, his city loved him, and in return, he loved them.
However, the young king was not as responsive to the praises and cries of his name as he usually was, something was troubling him. He had received summons this morning from the high priests to go to the temple of the Oasis, the lifeblood of his city and the keeper of the cities namesake, the Great Oasis. As he swept past the temple guards and walked to the chamber of the high priests, he couldn't shake the feeling from his mind that something bad was going to happen.
He entered the great room where the priests sat around a small pond of fresh water and glanced up at the men and woman sitting above him on high benches.
"You wished to speak with me, esteemed one's?" The young king asked in a questioning tone. "Yes my king", one responded in a tired tone. "The Great Oasis is shrinking", one directly stated. The king stiffened, "What?!" he thought to himself, immediately rejecting the idea. The water was the literal lifeblood of the city. Without water, they would die. The elders waited till the king composed himself until another asked, "My lord, we believe that we may have developed a solution".
The king straitened his thoughts until he finally responded, "What is your idea, great ones?" The priests exchanged glances between themselves before one spoke up, "We will have to abandon Oasis".
The king did a double take before sputtering out "What!" "My king, we have decided that in the case of the water drying up, we must leave in order to preserve ous people".
The man at the front of the council didn't know whether to cry or outraged at this point. "This is treason!" he shouted at the robed figures in front of him as he prepared to storm out of the room. "We cannot abandon Oasis, it is everything!"
"My king, we knew you would reject this idea so we have created an alternate proposal for you. We and the people will leave the city, and you can stay behind as a guardian. If you find a way to replenish the magic of the well, we will return. Do you accept this idea?"
The young king contemplated his options, the priests were practically staging a coup against him, and he was powerless against them. "I accept". He begrudgingly replied.
"Good, we hoped you would". The council member responded in a slightly harsher tone.
The king's head snapped up before he was surrounded in a cage or orange magic.
"High Priest, what is this?" the young man yelled in a slightly higher pitch, betraying his fright at the sudden change of events.
"You are no longer the king boy", the elder sneered at the young man trapped in the magical cage. "We are tired of watching a boy act like he leads our city. This city is doomed, and you with it. We listened to you because of your title, but no more!" The priest snapped at him. "You are not strong enough to lead us. We are leaving boy, enjoy eternity. From now on, you formerly known as King of Oasis are now Dust, guardian of this city."
At this point the young man surrounded by the walls of magic was sobbing as everything was stripped from him, he was hit by waves of pain as the enchantments were harshly placed and bonded to his body. He felt powerful; he felt fast, he felt ageless, and hunger less. But on top of it all he felt the harsh truth of his rule, he saw scenes of people he had waved and smiled to on his walk to the temple. He saw them cursing him as he walked by under their masks of smiles and gratitude. He heard mutterings of "fool king", "boy king", "royal fuck up". The names got worse and worse as his tears continued to fall out as the pain fully enveloped his body as he glanced up to see the indifferent and happy faces of the council of priests he had once trusted and looked up to. All he could think of was the pain before he finally succumbed to the blackness creeping into the edges of his vision.
(End of Flashback)
Dust looked at the ruins of the stone men he mindlessly dispatched while thinking of his past. He sighed, it was pointless now, he couldn't get any better training against creations such as these. He made a mental note to practice making better constructs as he walked back to his house. The armor slid off his body and onto the floor as Dust passed through his hut.
He didn't bother with a shirt as he walked through the ruins of his city to the site of the former temple of the Great Oasis. He entered the temple and went straight to the room with the pond.
The Oasis was just a small puddle with a trickle of dirty water feeding into it now. He stripped down and stepped into the dirty lukewarm water to wash the day's grime off of his person. As he rinsed his medium length sun-bleached brown hair in the puddle he reminisced about his curse and how the pain revisited him every night.
"It was down to a dull ache after the couple of millennia of dealing with it but it was still a bitch", he thought to himself.
Dust's face almost curled up into a small smile as he thought about the benefits of the enchantments placed on him. No need to eat or drink (which is extremely convenient to him considering there's no food or drinkable water left in the city).
He stepped out of the water and put his clothes back on as he once again walked to his hut. It was all so routine to Dust at this point he could probably go through his whole day with his eyes closed if he really wanted to he humorlessly thought to himself.
Back at his hut he sat down at the stone table and began reading his some of the scrolls he gathered from around the city earlier that week. Most were simple ancient trade receipts but one caught his eye.
He gave an amused grunt as he saw it was a spell on creating magical constructs. As he finished reading it though he became slightly disappointed when he realized it wouldn't help him improve his, it only taught him how to take control of other people's constructs.
He was a little annoyed as he went to finish his last errand of the day when he realized that the possibility of him ever using that spell was about zero percent, given that he hadn't seen another person in over two millennia.
Dust strode to the edge of the city to finish his last daily task before a night of sleep on his rock bed and his wonderful nightly hour of pain. Looking at the city boundaries he walked closer and closer to complete the last part of his routine.
Holding out a hand he approached the orange barrier of magic enclosing him in the city. He touched it expecting the usual slight shock and no give, but to his surprise there was no shock.
Still in a trance from his newest revelation he pushed harder and to his surprise the energy pushed outwards. He pulled his hand back and ran back for a good night's sleep and pain, giddy with something he hadn't felt in almost two millennia. Happiness, happiness and hope that he might escape.
Woo, I did it, I'll upload the next chapter soon hopefully, it'll incorporate the league. Sorry if some of this seemed a little random, I was trying to give a physical description. Fav, Comment, PM me if you have suggestions and Thanks.