Axe and fire 2
"Wake up, partner!" Someone called him. Yet, he wasn't sleeping. He was awake, running through a filed, covered in grass and flowers. Looking at a little, blonde girl, who was running with him, but a bit further than him. She was his little sister, and looked like a small sun, for she was always smiling. Her small figure was skipping through the tall grass, while her laughter filled his eyes with tears of joy.
His sister didn't have a really happy life. Taken from the family when she was still a child, just so her talents could be shaped into a weapon to be used in the war. After five years of intensive training, she had became a dangerous figure in their Nation's arsenal.
He, himself had became another dangerous weapon for the Nation, as a leader of the strongest battalion in the army. But while she was more or less forced to go behind enemy lines and execute priority targets, while he led the charge.
He had his rivals in the enemy's Nation, but a fellow soldier had left, or was more or less banished, exiled from the Nation, and joined an enemy, the rival. The fellow soldier was a woman, and the rival was a man. He, too, was banished from his Nation. And so, the fellow soldier, and the opposing rival, both met somewhere, and became friends, fellows. Lovers. Yet, one day, his lord, blinded by anger, killed , and left his body to rot. But what the rival had done... It had changed the rivaled's view of the enemy's Nation.
"Partner! Come on, wake up!" The rival once had a brother, and still had that brother, yet the life of that brother had darkened since the rival's death.
But he was just a ghost in the past. A fading shade of a world long lost. Once, the Nations were friends, yet that was the ancient times, when they weren't Nations yet, when they were settlements. Yet those settlements were not enemies. They were friends, and everyone could be with anyone. But something happened, and the settlements were no longer friends. They started fighting, and killing each other. Death colored the land and skies.
"Partner! Come on, I am waiting!" The voice was familiar to him. Yet he couldn't remember who possessed it. It could've been of a friend, or of an enemy. Who was going to be calling him? Who would want to take him away from the grassland? Who would be asking of him to leave his little sister?
The skies, which were covered in sunlight, which bathed both him and his sister, darkened. The grass blackened, death roamed through the land. The trees, which occasionally would appear out of nowhere in the plain place, lost all of their leaves, and their branches fired out, dying. His sister stopped laughing, her frame started fading away. He extended his hand towards her, trying to bold her with him, but failed. She disappeared.
Everything was dark and empty, lifeless and motionless. Only one thong stood there. That was him. All alone.
"Ah, there you are, partner!" Someone called, and he turned. A man, taller than him, stepped forth from the shadows. He had a long, brown coat, and a cow boy hands were gloved and empty, yet they could swiftly be filled with either the swords on his belt, the axe and mallet on his back, or the daggers in his boots. His whole face was covered by mask, which hid only his mouth, a little tube, which was placed under his nose, and goggles for his eyes. The coat had a piece of cloth, which hung loosely over his coat. It was a worn variety of white.
"Oh Oath almighty..." He said. Whenever he cared to even speak, the boy felt as if his ears were screaming and bleeding at the same time. "You have changed." The boy's brow lifted, in an unspoken question. "But I guess everyone changes when they experience loss... Even the enemies of those who have died." The man kept on talking, as if thinking that the boy actually understood anything.
"Who... Who are you?" Asked the boy. For a moment, the man seemed to stop in his tracks, but then he resumed.
"Partner, you have grown in foolishness... This isn't good. If you do not even remember ME, you are in trouble." He looked as if he was going to lecture the boy for a long while. But then he seems d to change intentions. "Ah, the world of dreams clouds one's memories. I guess you don't even know your name... Garen." The boy gulped. His closed, and opened again, only to see war. Bleeding men, dying soldiers. Looking down at himself, he saw a giant sword, covered in blood. He blinked, and was now looking at a man with long black hair, wearing golden armor. He seemed to be... Congratulating him on something. Blink. He saw a man, with shorter, yet black hair, formed just like a skyward rock. There was a white knot in it, but what scared Garen was the giant axe and the expression of emotionless carnage imprinted on the opposing face.
The picture changed. He saw himself, bumping fists with a raven haired man, who was wearing a gold adorned armor, and was smiling. Garen was also smiling. They were probably great friends
The picture changed yet again. But this time, Garen was but an observer. His friend, the raven haired man with gold adorned armor was fighting the other man, who wore dark armor. This time, however, there was just sadness all over the face of the axe wielder, and Garen's friend seemed just about ready to explode. They were fighting in a circle of stony walls, with small amounts of lava running here and there.
The picture changed, and Garen saw himself, sitting next to his friend, a man who resembled the person on the first picture only by hair and armor, was staring blindly in the back of the seat in front of him. Garen could see the anger and hatred oozing from him. Then the boy looked around, and saw even more people. Most of them were smiling, and they looked as if they were... Expecting somebody. There was a beautiful woman in a white dress, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She looked like a bride, but Garen didn't know who were they waiting for.
The picture changed, for one last time. He saw the axe wielder, his weapon absent, laying on the floor in the same room the previous picture was taken. His skin was pale, his eyes were staring at nothing. He seemed as if he was dead Garen saw himself, a palm on his mouth and a saddened look in his eyes. The raven haired man was next to him. He seemed to be barely holding in laughter, because the curves his face was making were more than enough evidence. And lastly, he saw the bride, her eyes filled with tears, kneeling next to the body of the axe wielder. She seemed as if she was screaming something, his name probably.
The picture dissipated into a cloud of smoke, and the man was the only thing which remained. Garen felt his heart beating faster, and faster.
"Ah, so now you remember me, partner... As you probably remember everyone else who's lives you've been part of..." Said the man in front of him. Garen could remember him, remembered the strange man who came... And rescued Darius and Shyvana.
"Th-the Nomad?" His eyes widened. For some reason, he couldn't force his thoughts to work straight.
"Aye, that's me, partner." The Nomad looked around, as if aware of something Garen wasn't, which was probably correct. Then, the man was in front of Garen, no more than a few inches away from his face. "Be careful, boy... For what you think righteous might crumble on top of you, with the strength of a Giant... Be careful, for your fate... Is sealed."
Garen woke up, with a scream pushing against his lips. He was covered in sweat, his sheets were on the floor, and the window of his room in the Crownguard estate was open. He saw a shadow, pretty human, lurking in it, looking at HIM. His hand shot for his sword, and he was about to charge, when the figure sighed, as if disappointed, and leaped off the window. Garen's heart was going to dig out of his chest, when he heard a knock on his door.
Slowly, the huge man walked towards the door, his sword held firmly in his hand. He opened, only to see his butler, Alric, looking at him with a brow slightly above the other.
"Are you alright, my lord?" Asked the old man with concern. Garen just shoved the argument in the wall and looked at Alric. "Ah yes, the Prince requires an audience with you, immediately." Garen nodded. He didn't doubt his future king's wishes for a moment and quickly put his scarf on his neck and covered himself with a cloak.
The streets of Demacia were really silent at night, which made them more and more beautiful. The moon threw its light upon the cold cobblestone, the dim light of the lanterns made an air of comfort and calm. Garen was calming down, when he felt someone looking at him. His heart skipped a beat, as the figure which he saw when his head moved, was exactly the same as before, but a tad bit clearer to his eyes. It could only be one man...
"Talon!" Garen almost shouted, lifting his sword. The assassin simply looked at him, with a probably cold glare, as he always did. But he didn't leave, he didn't hide. He just... Looked at him. "What game are you playing, Noxian?" Asked Garen, although it was almost sure that he wouldn't get a reply. Talon replied by dropping a blade on the cobble in front of Garen.
The Demacian couldn't understand this... At all. Talon's hand moved, and waved at him, sending him off. The Demacian General snorted and turned, expecting the blade to come running towards his throat. Though this didn't happen. Talon's silent gaze had disappeared, and Garen was left alone.
The Demacian groaned and left off, towards the palace. Something told him that the surprises were not over.
A/N: There you go guys. I started it. I have a few chapters done, but I cannot write anymore, I am too lazy and broken inside to be able to. So... Just tell me how much this one sucked and see ya tomorrow.