Shurima. A seemingly endless desert many think to be an arid wasteland. Nomadic tribes litter the many seas of sand as the scorching sun beats down on all who traverse it.
However, an ancient empire, long forgotten, has risen once again. Azir, the long-lost emperor of Shurima, had returned, seeking to reclaim his lost lands and restore his country to its former glory.
But there was one slight problem that came with being dead for centuries.
"Come on, Azir, we went over this! You don't use a metal plate in a microwave!" Sivir glared at the Emperor of the sands, whose avian head was tilted quizzically.
"I don't understand. I thought this... 'microwave,' simply heats the food you put inside? I wasn't expecting any of this to happen." He waved his arms around a ravaged kitchen, the highlight of which was a charred metal box that was once Sivir's microwave.
The mercenary grabbed her hair in frustration. "Everything gets heated up inside, Azir. And metal reflects that heat and eventually makes the thing hotter till it blows up."
"My apologies, then. I did not understand the machinations of this interesting artifact." The emperor patted the ruined microwave for emphasis. He winced when the opening fell off its hinges.
Sivir sighed and leaned against the counter. "I don't think anyone says 'machinations' any more, old man. And microwaves aren't artifacts."
"Are they not? Such an odd device would have definitely be considered an artifact in my time."
"Yeah, in your time." The Battle Mistress froze, making Azir raise a confused eyebrow. "In your time..." The Shuriman woman suddenly smacked the bottom of her fist into her palm as the idea struck her, startling her avian ancestor.
"That's it! You're somebody of the past! It's only natural that you won't have a damn clue about what goes on in this day and age."
"I suppose what you say has some reasoning behind it... I am somewhat ignorant of the ways of this world."
Sivir nodded. "And that's why you've gotta go to the League of Legends! If anyone can help you get with the times, it's gotta be those summoners!"
"The League of Legends? Both you and Nasus stay there sometimes, correct?"
"Yep. Nasus was in a bit of a tough spot himself with other people, but he got around it. I don't see why you can't do the same."
"I suppose, but I'm already a part of it, am I not? I get summoned occasionally." Azir remembered the day when he first got summoned. It was rather confusing, suddenly getting ripped from his throne room and being dumped onto a battlefield. It never failed to put off his soldiers and servants every time he was transported. The first time it happened, every one of the sand subjects in his palace had shrieked so loud and so much the nomads thought they were the wails of malevolent spirits.
"No, I mean going there and staying amongst other champions in the dormitories. It'll help you socialize with other champions, make some friends, that sort of thing. And you'd learn all about this era as well."
Azir tapped a finger to his beak thoughtfully. "I see. I would have to become acclimated to this new world's norms and customs if I am to rule my people properly." The bird emperor drew himself up regally amidst the charred remains of Sivir's kitchen.
"Then let us not wait any further, Sivir. Take me to this place which you speak of with haste."
The Institute of War was a fine establishment. The place had everything a highly diverse and growing assortment of champions needed: a mess hall, a vast collection of dormitories, stores that held goods from all over Runeterra, and a variety of leisure facilities. Overall, Azir felt that the place would suit him perfectly.
"Alright, I've already registered you as a champion, so just get going to your dorm and settle in." She waved at a building behind them. "These are the dorms. You might get summoned for a Rift match, so hurry up and get comfy." The mercenary princess stuck a key and a slip of paper with some text on it in Azir's, which the emperor stared at, confused.
"That's your room number and key. There're signs around on each floor, so you'll know where to go." Sivir turned to leave. "Anyway, some friends of mine were going to be hanging out together. Later." She paused, and then turned back around.
"Oh, and since you stay here now, you'll get sent to this other room instead of wherever you were before getting summoned, so keep that in mind." The Shuriman woman turned around once again, and set off.
After the mercenary princess left, Azir entered the building, a few boxes of his being carried by some Sand Soldiers. After fiddling with the construct that Sivir had called an 'elevator', he eventually reached a room that seemed rather untouched, and they key surprisingly worked. He entered the dorm room, giving the place a once-over.
How BORING.
To an emperor of a lost kingdom, the dorm could only be described as bland. A couch and TV were in a rather open space of the dorm, the living room, apparently, and a bed was present in another, smaller room that had a bathroom. A small kitchen was in another section of the place, away from the TV and couch. There were a few windows in each room, and the living room opened up to a small balcony.
This place requires... RENOVATION.
A raise of his hand motioned his three sand soldiers to enter. "Make this place fit for someone of my standing." At once, the soldiers set down the boxes and opened them, revealing an assortment of Azir's belongings. They set to work. One procured a massive paint roller from a storage closet, and began coloring the entirety of the walls a golden hue. Another ripped off the curtains from the windows and balcony, and after flinging them away, affixed dark red drapes of silk. The other stripped the bed of its sheets, replacing them with the familiar blue and gold of the Shuriman dynasty.
Azir surveyed the room, satisfied. "Not complete yet, but good work, men. Bring me a better couch, bed, table, and some chairs. Now go." The Sand Soldiers nodded before snap of his fingers reduced them to three piles of sand.
Azir, a clear voice reverberated in his mind. You are being summoned to the Fields of Justice in 60 seconds. Prepare yourself.
The Emperor of the Sands sighed and sunk into the couch, waiting to be transported onto Summoner's Rift.
"Gods, that match took far longer than I expected," Xin Zhao groaned, shaking his head in disdain. Four other champions, Azir included, muttered assent. Every summoner in the match, enemies included, had been so incompetent the battle had lasted for more than an hour. The moon could be seen outside. After a few more minutes of grumbling, the five champions left the lobby and went their separate ways.
I'm going to bed, thought Azir tiredly. He trudged into the dormitory, and eventually reached his room before sticking in his key.
It wouldn't budge.
That's odd, Azir thought, confused. It worked before. He turned it the other way. No luck. He pulled it out and stuck it in after flipping it. Still no dice.
The emperor was beginning to feel anxious. I can't sleep out in the open, what would everyone think of me? He continued twisting his key fruitlessly, getting more and more frustrated with every turn. Eventually, it finally opened, much to Azir's relief.
And out stepped a tiny girl in pajamas, holding a stuffed bear by the arm. They stared at each other, confused as to who the other was. Eventually, the girl spoke up. "Who're you? It's my bedtime."
Azir took another look at the scrap of paper, and then at the girl's door. They had the same number. But the inside of the room had none of his changes at all. It looked as though it belonged to a small child, and sure enough, a small child was standing in the doorway.
"Pardon me, young one, but I thought that this was my room?" He showed her the paper, and the child seemed to recognize it.
"Ohhh, is that Miss Sivvy's handwriting? Then you two must be friends!"
Azir blinked. "Not quite. I am her forefather."
Annie's eyebrows furrowed as she thought hard. "Fur-father..." A smile broke out onto her face. "So you're like her daddy?"
The emperor's eyebrow rose. "'Daddy?'"
The girl giggled. "You know, a father!"
The Emperor of the Sands was taken aback. Sivir, his daughter? He began to think. True, the young woman was of his blood. But he didn't treat her the way he would have his children before his Ascension. She was still his descendant, the one who had carried on his bloodline and her alone.
She was the only one Azir could call family anymore.
He was snapped out of his reverie when the girl held out her puny free hand, the smile still on her face. "My name's Annie. What's your name?"
Azir stared at the hand, surprised, before gingerly taking it and shaking. "I am Azir, emperor of Shurima. It is a pleasure to meet you, Annie."
The little girl giggled before trying to imitate the bird emperor. "Shrima. That's where you come from, right?"
Azir shook his head. "Not 'Shrima,' little one, 'Shurima.'"
Annie cocked her head, confused. "Sh-Shu-"
Azir knelt and looked into her innocent eyes. "Shurima. Shu-ri-ma."
"Shu...ri...ma." Annie's eyes lit up. "Shurima!"
Azir chuckled. "Yes, Annie, you have it n-"
"Annie, what are you doing up so late? And who-" Azir turned to see a blonde woman with elongated ears, staring at him with eyes as wide as his Sun Disk.
Janna, if I recall correctly. Azir stood, towering over the bewildered wind mage. "Greetings. I appear to have lost my way. Can-" The emperor was interrupted by the shrill scream of Janna as she turned and fled, horrified. Azir blinked, before turning to Annie. "What might she be so afraid of?"
"It might be because you're a boy."
The Emperor of Sands sniffed. "Because I am male? What a foolish reason to fear a person."
Annie giggled. "No, silly. It's because this place is the girls-only building."
"Girls-only?"Azir remembered something Sivir told him on the way to his dormitory.
Never, EVER, go to the girls' building uninvited. You'd be lucky to get away with your life if you do.
As if on cue, several doors in the corridor opened, and out walked various female champions in pajamas, weapons in hand to take down whatever caused that blood-curdling scream they had heard earlier. Their eyes set on Azir, who was standing in the corridor, Annie's hand in his.
Their eyes filled with rage as they raised their weapons, opening their mouths in a battle cry.
Azir's eyes filled with fear as he turned around, opening his beak for a panicked squawk.
"GET HIM!"
"Oh dear."
The women let loose with a hail of ammunition as Azir summoned a phalanx of shield-bearing Sand Soldiers to take the onslaught. He gently pushed Annie into her room. "Dream well, Annie," he said hurriedly, before closing the door. He began sprinting as fast as his taloned feet could carry him in the other direction. He felt his soldiers dissipate under the womens' abuse, and Azir ducked as bullets, bolts, and arrows flew over his head and embedded themselves into the wall in front of him. He squawked as a spear flew inches from his neck and stuck into the wall, still quivering from the force. He turned the corner and kept running, fearing for his life.
Around him, more doors swung open, and many of women in the doorways took one shocked look at him before either opening fire of lunging at him with a weapon, murder in their eyes. One of their ranks had nearly skewered him with a thin blade before hurling insults at him in a foreign language. Another burly-looking woman had laughed before chuckling something to herself about how a good man would come to take what they wanted. Nevertheless, Azir continued running down the seemingly endless expanses of hallways and corridors, narrowly dodging an innumerable attempts on his life.
This is not what I expected life here was like! Azir mentally cursed his circumstances as he rounded another corner. He cursed once more as he saw yet another door open.
It was Sivir. MY SALVATION, Azir thought.
The mercenary princess's hair was completely unruly, and she wore an aggravated scowl along with her pajamas. She had her crossblade fully expanded and ready. "Whoever the hell's making that noise, shut the f-" Her eyes widened as she saw her ancestor sprinting full tilt towards her, and a mob of enraged women right behind him. "Azir?! Hey, hey HEY WHAT THE F-" She got cut off as Azir scooped the Battle Mistress into his arms and kept running.
"Sivir! I am so glad to see-ARGH!" Sivir slugged him right in the beak, making him cry out in pain.
"What the hell are you doing in the women's building?! I thought I told you to never come here!"
"I got lost!"
"LOST?! YOUR BUILDING IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE INSTITUTE!"
"It is my first day in this place! And it is darker than the maw of a Xer'Sai outside!"
Sivir fell silent, before letting out a groan. "Sounds like a good enough reason."
"Of course it is! Now tell me how to escape this wretched place!"
His descendant looked at him, somewhat disappointed. "You're not going to straighten things out with them? I thought you were smooth with women."
"How can I possibly be "smooth" with a mob who wants my head?!"
Sivir shrugged. "I guess you've got a point." She raised a hand to her mouth in thought.
"Alright. The girls aren't idiots. They're probably guarding the staircases and fire exits, so..." She snapped her fingers. "You've got to find this big window that looks out over a swimming pool, and then jump. That's our only option right now."
"JUMP?! Have you gone mad?! We're on the fifth floor!"
"It's either a dip in the pool or getting mauled alive by the idiots behind us, so pick your poison!" Sivir glared at the emperor, who sighed in defeat.
"...Jumping it is then." He ducked as a blast of light shot over his head, squawking indignantly.
"Gotcha! Head right!" Azir turned a corner, evading another salvo of death.
"Left!" Azir obliged, still hearing the angry shouts of the horde behind him.
"That's it! There it is!" Sivir pointed at a window at the end of the hallway, that seemed larger than the others he had ran past. My freedom is at hand! Azir thought, triumphant.
Until a squadron of women leaped out of an unseen fire exit at the very end of the corridor.
"Dammit!" Sivir cursed. She then noticed something peculiar.
"H-Hey! Are you not stopping?!" Azir continued at his breakneck pace, straight at the wall of angry females.
"This is something I learned from the Fields of Justice!" Azir crowed, before summoning two Sand Soldiers right in front of the blockade. After a moment of shock, they raised their weapons, eager to cut the sand figures down.
Azir began flying to one of them, Sivir screaming in his arms.
He then commanded them to charge.
The group of women scattered at the sudden assault, knocked aside like bowling pins. The soldiers smashed through the window, the Shurimans in tow. The two royals flew out of the window and away from the mob. Sivir pumped a fist, cheering. Azir sighed in relief. They were safe at last.
Until they decided to look down.
Five floors really was a long way to fall.
"OH SHIIIIIIIIII-" Sivir shrieked, plunging into the emptiness below.
"NOT LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIS!" Azir screamed, plummeting towards the pool beneath him.
The screams of two falling Shurimans woke up many champions that night.
Taric was having a good day.
Looking after the Institute's pool was a generally enjoyable task for the handsome man. He rarely had to step in, and looking at so many people having fun was simply beautiful. The pool had just closed, and a few champions were on their way out, eager to go to bed after a pleasurable evening of swimming.
He chuckled as he climbed down the ladder to his perch. Normally, there would have been a fight between someone over some reason, and the Shield of Valoran was pleased to note that such an incident had not occurred today.
I am at the Institute of War, aren't I? Taric thought with a smile.
He was about to find out very soon.
It started as they heard a window shattering. The swimmers looked around, confused.
Then, the shrieks of two Shurimans shattered the silence of the night, putting everyone on edge.
Taric was the first to look up. As a result, he was the first to see the falling bodies of Sivir and Azir, screaming bloody murder. His eyes widened.
"What in the name of Tar-"
He never finished as the two champions hit the pool's surface, sending the water spilling out in an eruption as a result of the dual cannonball. Champions screamed as the flood of water bowled them over and soaked them to the bone. Taric groaned as he crawled over to the half-empty pool, spotting an unconscious Shuriman emperor and his descendant floating in the shallow waters. He sighed and slumped against the ground.
I'm still here all right.
"You two are surprisingly unscathed. Sivir has a cold, and Azir is utterly exhausted for some reason, but that's all that's there between the two of you. Now, get some rest." Akali ticked a few boxes on her clipboard, before turning and leaving the two Shurimans in their beds.
Sivir sneezed in her bed. "Urgh..."
Azir sighed. "I'm sorry, Sivir. This happened because of my negligence."
The mercenary chuckled before coughing. "What are you so sorry about? I should have made this place more clear to you."
Azir shook his head. "You are my descendant, Sivir. It is my duty to watch over you."
"You're starting to sound like somebody's dad, old man."
Azir's eyes widened. "A 'dad'? That is another term for one's father, correct?"
Sivir's brow furrowed. "Yeah, why?"
Azir sat up painfully, remembering his conversation with Annie. "Then it's decided. I shall take the role of this... 'dad', to keep you safe and out of harm's way."
The mercenary stared at her emperor ancestor, before letting out a laugh. "I can handle myself... but what you say sounds pretty good, dad."
Azir fell silent for a second, before chuckling. "Of course it is..." He suddenly remembered something Annie told him. "Miss Sivvy."
Sivir's eyes widened in shock, before her face contorted in rage, inciting a laugh from the bedded emperor. She weakly flopped an arm on Azir's chest. "Sh-Shut up!"
Azir continued laughing as Sivir continued launching a fruitless attack on her forefather. Their sounds of laughter and cursing echoed throughout the empty corridors of the hospital wing.
As odd as the two Shurimans were, it was just like any other family in the world.
A little something for you guys to enjoy on Halloween.
I got the idea for this fic by looking at some pictures of Azir being that one embarrassing dad that makes Sivir want to tear her hair out. I'm honestly pretty proud of how it turned out.
Anyway, like always, feel free to leave a review with your thoughts, and thanks again for reading. I'll be seeing you guys.