A/N: Hey all, been a while. I'm Drak, the previous writer for "Ezreal: Gauntlet", which was also formerly known as "Ezreal: Welcome to the Institute of War", which was written years ago. Now I go under a different name for reasons, and I unfortunately scrapped the story for personal reasons as well. Let me start off with, I'm sorry. The writers block in me cucked me for a long time, and it may as well happen again.
Now I'm back for who knows how long, and I think my writing is better than it was before. At the time of this being posted, I already have over 12k+ words of the chapter finished (which is just about done, I only need to revise the rest and It'll be divided in to three parts and yes, there will be lemon. It wouldn't be a fic of mine without lemon. This is part 1 of the first chapter of our new story, and I still don't know what I want to do with this. But here goes nothing. Welcome to our new story...
The Prodigy.
The Rift was never his favorite place. How much he longed for the sweet embrace of nature, the thrill of finding hidden treasure, to excavate thousand-year-old fossils. Oh, how he had longed for it. To kill and die, kill and die endlessly, constantly, for the satisfaction of many but solutions to no one, the Institute of War has shut down it's war practices. The Summoner's Rift was destroyed, and the fields of justice were to be seen no more. The odd nightmare was over, and finally, Ezreal can finally do what he loves the most...
"Man… It's fucking freezing…"
A blond-headed boy shivering as he tread the frosted slopes of the Freljord. His face was as pale as the snow he walked. He breathed in to his gloves to attempt to assimilate some heat.
"…I need warmth..."
Ezreal reached for his pack and tucked his coat closer to him. The sticks he grabbed from the forest he came from were dried. He found a small hill where the snow wasn't as heavy and didn't fall hard. Flint and tinder in hand, he sparked away at the sticks and gathered stones around to keep the fire burning.
He put his gloved hands over the fire, and waded his body close. The heat emanating was comforting, like hot soup on a winter day. Speaking of that, his stomach started to rumble.
It had been three days since he had started traversing the Freljord, and his rations had depleted on the second day when he awoke to a bear feeding inside of his pack.
All he could think of was "I deserve that", so while bitter, it wasn't truly the hunger that pissed him off rather than his rookie mistake.
Ezreal grabbed berries he scrounged up from the forest in his pack and threw them in to his mouth one at a time, sipping cold water, which didn't help too much, but he needed to stay hydrated.
A sigh of relief escaped. Ezreal had bad luck on this adventure, unlike most. That sigh was clinging hope.
…?
Horns blared in the distance. Horns of war.
Ezreal stood up, gazing at a stampede of iron-clad soldiers of the winter, charging down to another group of fighters.
"No…" Ezreal packed his things as quickly as possible.
He looked through his goggle and looked at the banner sprawled over the two battle mammoths facing each other. One of a bow and arrow and the other of two axes.
In other words, the Avarosan clan was battling the Winter's Claw.
An internal conflict arose within Ezreal. Do I interfere, or do I go around?
The choice was obvious.
The battle raged on for another good half an hour before he had approached the war zone. Sneaking around the trees and grabbing other sticks for a future fire, he quickly dashed through the chilling forest.
A scream came from the distance. Ezreal could have simply ignored it, but he strode to the cry. From the corner of his eye, he found the scene from the white landscape. Two soldiers, one with a hand-ax and a shield, the other with a spear, cornering a hulking man with a giant sword. At first glance, because the man looked so much stronger and powerful, he could easily overcome them. But upon further inspection from afar, his arm was terribly injured, possibly broken, many cuts on the surface, some very deep, his other arm barely able to lift the massive steel blade.
"I… can still take on you… Winter Claw scum! Come at me, beasts!" The large man yelled, and the soldiers charged at him. "RRAAAGH!"
"There's no way he can take him out… he needs help!" Ezreal snuck around and fired bolts of arcane magic from his gauntlet, striking down the man with the axe, who went down with a cry. The spearman, struck at the Avarosan's leg, bringing him to his knee.
Ezreal quickly Arcane Shifted behind the spearman and struck at him with the mana he had left, afterwards punching him with all the strength he could, knocking him out. The Avarosan looked at him surprised.
"You… you are not from here, are you?" He looked up to Ezreal. His voice was rough and battle hardened. He had long black hair and tufts of facial hair. "Cough… You saved me, boy. Thank you… Ghh.." The man fell over, in pain.
"Are you alright?!" Ezreal ran up to him again and looked at his face. He seemed to have fainted. "I need to get him somewhere safe, but how are we going to get out of this damn warzone?" He pondered quickly, and then kneeled down.
"Shit, well… here goes nothing…" He put his hand on the man's chest. Light swirled around him, and he closed his eyes. When he opened, he stood on the floor of a cave, the man lying at his feet.
Ezreal brought his pack down and pulled out a first aid kit and disinfected the man's wounds, then wrapped his cut arm in gauze.
Bringing the sticks out and again making a small fire, he put it next to the man.
"It still isn't enough…" Ezreal took his coat off and put it over the man.
He shivered a bit, but looked out the cave. The warzone raged on, but seemed to be dying down slowly. Both sides were beginning to retreat.
Ezreal sat by the cave, checked himself for wounds, and didn't find any. He sat against the wall of the cave and began to feel tired.
He slowly began to fall asleep, yet when he thought of anything that could be wrong, he opened his eyes again. What if the man dies? What if he wakes up and kills me out of cold blood? Who is this man anyways? He seemed a little familiar…
He shook it off, deciding that he can't do anything but hope he doesn't wake up with a blade in his gut. Ezreal slowly closed his eyes.
His eyelids parted, Ezreal looked up at the ceiling of the room he was in. Surprised, he sat up on the bed he awoke on and looked around. He wasn't in the cave anymore, but rather in a fancy looking room. Out the window was the cold, snowy scenery again.
He had been stripped of most of his clothes, but they lie neatly folded to the side of the bed. He decided to put them on and leave the room.
Peeking out the door, no one seemed to be around. Waiting for someone to come around would be a pain, so he shut the door and began to look around.
He seemed to be in what seemed like a mansion, or a palace even, but the inside seemed more like a large and comfy, yet regal looking cabin. It was relieving.
Footsteps sounded at the hall. He ran up the stairs from the main corridor.
"Excuse me, can I ask you-" He paused, with a rather shocking look.
"Ezreal! You're awake!" A white haired woman ran up and hugged him from out of the blue.
"Ashe?!" Ezreal couldn't help but be shocked. Was he in the Avarosan palace?
"My troops found you in a cave when we were looking for Tryndamere, and there you two were. You were nearly freezing to death, because you put the coat over Tryndamere. You barely saved his life, Ezreal," Ashe hugged him tighter.
"Ah- uh- hey Ashe, it's no problem, you can let go now!"
She quickly let go with a surprised look on her face, which was tinted slightly red. Ezreal scratched his head with an awkward smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just so glad… You've always been a good friend to me since our beginning days in the Institute, I don't know what I would have done if you or Tryndamere died…"
Ashe was embarrassed, but Ezreal was used to it. They had always been great friends since they joined the League of Legends.
"You know, you're a hero to our tribe. You saved our king, Ezreal." Ashe smiled at him.
"W-Wait, hero? I just did what any other person would have done!" Ezreal blurted out of embarrassment. Ashe giggled in response.
"That's not what Tryndamere told me. When he woke up , he told us all about how you took out two Winter's Claw men and saved him from near death," she said while giving Ezreal a sly smile.
"It's nothing, really!" Embarrassment flushed his face.
"By the way, why are you in the Freljord?" She questioned him.
"Oh that? Well… I hadn't been on an adventure in a while, ever since I started in the Institute, actually, and I decided I should do what I do best and explore."
Ashe sighed. "You really could have died if my men didn't find you. You know that, right?"
"Eheh, thanks for that, by the way.." Ezreal gave out a playful chuckle. Ashe couldn't help but giggle too. "Maybe I'm just a little rusty."
"Here follow me, I'll make some hot tea," Ashe motioned.
"That would be great!"
Ezreal sat at the table in the dining room, not to be confused with the dining hall, where clan members gathered to feast after a victorious battle. Ashe brought the tea in and set it down in front of Ez. "Thank you."
She nodded. "My pleasure."
He took a sip, quickly pulling away from the scalding heat of it, then set it down. "So Ashe, how are you and Tryndamere?"
Ashe quickly set down her tea and choked a bit. "W-Where did that come from?"
"I dunno, just a bit curious. I haven't talked to you in a long time is all," he said, nonchalantly taking another sip of tea.
Ashe sighed. "Well that whole 'political' marriage thing was to unite our people. We did try it out once. We're still great friends and we lead the clan together, but when we tried the whole love thing, it didn't quite work out." Ashe brushed the white hair from her pale face.
Ezreal laughed again. "I guess I'm a bit surprised. Does that mean you're taken by another clan member?"
"W-What are you saying?" Ashe backed up in her seat and blushed.
"Nothing, I just thought a woman as beautiful as you would have found someone. I'm sure most of the clan has proclaimed their love for you, am I right?" Ezreal leaned on the table with his elbow and smiled.
Ashe gave another sigh, but this one more uncomfortable with rosy cheeks to match. "N-No, everyone assumes I'm taken by Tryndamere, which he is the strongest of the clan. No one would pick a fight with him, even if it would be for me. But to answer your question, I'm not taken..."
Ezreal looked at her surprised. "Wow, really? That's shocking."
"Hah… You're the same as always," she sighed.
The door opened, and came through was the big muscle man himself. His torso was bandaged and his arm in a sleeve.
"Ezreal, there you are. You saved me, boy! I don't think I can repay something like that unless it's my life," Tryndamere's battle-worn, coarsy voice rang throughout the dining room.
"It's no problem at all, I just did what anyone would have done, y-your majesty," Ezreal said bowing his head, slightly intimidated.
"What's with the formality, boy? Just call me by my name! Haha, I'm a king, but I'm not your king!" Tryndamere gave a hearty laugh and patted his back with his right free hand.
"Would you like some tea, Trynd?" Ashe started pouring a cup before he could even answer.
"That'd be fantastic." He took the steaming hot cup of tea and poured it down his throat like nothing. What a frighteningly tough man, Ezreal thought.
"About the battle against the Winter's Claw, both sides only seemed to have some injured casualties. I believe Sejuani wants to play it safe for now, which is oddly unlike her, wouldn't you say?" Tryndamere mentioned to Ashe.
"Should I not be here for this?" Ezreal said.
"No, its fine, we can't account you as a spy or anything like that," Ashe took another sip of tea. "Perhaps Sejuani is finally catching on that peace is the way to solve this mad war."
"Hah, no way in hell she thinks that." Tryndamere gave another hearty chuckle.
"There's a huge possibility, Tryndamere. Remember how her last battalion was nearly wiped out? More than half of them fell, and the others retreated. That was our bloodiest battle yet. Perhaps she's finally coming around."
Tryndamere rubbed his chin. "Perhaps you're right, but Sejuani of all people?"
"People can change. And they most certainly will when it comes to protecting the people they care for." Ashe got up and stretched her arms. "I'm going to go train. Want to come, Ezreal?"
He nodded and gave a quick "sure" and followed her out to the cold front of the barbarian palace. Tryndamere finished his tea and went back to rest.
Three dummies stood upon the courtyard.
"We haven't had a competition in ages. Let's see who kept their touch, Ezreal!" Ashe took the bow off her back.
"Oh yeah? You're on." Ezreal put his gauntlet on and got his arcane bow ready.
Ashe placed 3 apples on the dummies heads. "You wanna go first?"
"Ladies first," Ezreal smirked.
Ashe gave him a quick grin and nodded. In a quick succession, she took 3 arrows from her quiver and fired them in a volley, knocking off all of the apples square in the middle. She turned and smirked at Ezreal. "You're turn, big guy."
"Not bad, not bad, but now it's my turn." He ran up and placed the apples on the dummies heads, then Arcane Shifted more than 100m away to the side of the dummies, lining them all up. Ashe looked around, and spotted him.
"There's no way you can hit all three of them with one shot! You're crazy!" Ashe yelled out to him in the distance. She only heard an echo of him yelling "WATCH ME!" before light gathered at his bow, a giant array of arcane energy shot down in a line, straight towards the dummies. When it had passed, it didn't knock the apples down, but instead, clipped the stem off the top of the apples with perfect accuracy.
Ezreal Arcane Shifted back to the dummies. All he could do was smile at Ashe's dumbfounded face.
"How…?" Ashe stared at him in awe.
"Why are you so surprised? I'm a Prodigy, after all," Ezreal gave a big, dumb grin.
Ashe shook her head. "I can't lose to just that, you didn't knock the apple off!"
"Oh, was that the goal? I thought this competition was about accuracy," Ezreal gave a sly smirk.
"Guh! Fine, you win... for now." Ashe put her bow around her back.
"Hmph, for now. You could give me more credit," Ezreal stuck his tongue out at her. She ignored him and turned towards the palace entrance.
Ezreal followed her inside to get away from the cold.
Ezreal gazed out the window once more. The city of Rakelstake, home to the Avarosan tribe, was quite a sight. Large walls surrounded the massive city, and atop the palace he was in, was two statues: one of Ashe, and one of Avarosa, her ancestor.
Ashe knocked and came in to his guest room. "Hey Ezreal, there's someone I'd like you to meet," she motioned him.
"Who is it?" Ezreal followed and asked.
"Well, he's our fiercest warrior, battle hardened by the harsh cold of the north, towering muscle over seven feet tall. He carries only the heaviest weaponry to charge the battles he fights in," Ashe says, hiding a smile.
Oh shit, this guy sounds worse than Tryndamere…
"Aha, here he is. Meet Braum!" Ashe motioned to the giant in front of her.
"Oh? Ah, greetings little one! I am Braum! The grand goat herder!" The large mustachioed man gave a broad grin "Ahahaha! No, it is only joke. I am shield for queen!" Braum turned and rubbed Ashe's head.
Ezreal couldn't help but look dumbfounded. "I'm Ezreal, nice to meet you, Braum."
"Ah, I already know who you are! You save the king! He's good friend, so that means you good friend!" The happy, hulking man gave another broad grin and shook his hand, which Ezreal winced in pain from his incredible grip..
Fiercest warrior, huh? No, I've hear stories of this guy. Quite possibly the perfect human being. He's protected a village from an elder dragon, raced down rivers of molten lava, and punched through a mountain to save a troll boy. His giant shield was actually a vault door, go figure. Just never thought he was real, or that he was… incredibly lively...
"Braum here's one of our best fighters. If Tryndamere isn't in the front lines, then it's almost always Braum going out to protect everyone in the Freljord." Ashe said with another grin on her face.
"Aha my queen, you flatter me! I only do my job!" Braum laughs again. The man never seems to not be happy. "Are you also perhaps marrying the queen?" He asks Ezreal curiously.
"What? No, of course not, why would you say that?" Ezreal asks. Ashe follows up with "Y-Yeah, why would you say that?!"
"You two look like two baby goats that were together since childbirth!" Braum gives another broad smile, but doesn't know how awkward he made the atmosphere. He fills the air with chuckles. Though odd, he sure knows how to make people happy.
"Braum here was just about to go in to the city and walk around. I thought we could join him and show you around while you're here," Ashe said to Ezreal.
"Haha, yes! We can go to Gragas and get nice glass of goat milk!" Braum again shouted.
"I don't mind a drink anything, I've been walking across a frozen tundra for the past week. I need something warm," Ezreal said, rubbing his throat.
"Perfect, let's head to Gragas's brewery," Ashe's white locks fluttered as she turned and led them down the road.
Ezreal looked around the city as he walked. Things were surprisingly calm, unless you caught yourself in a rouse with a couple of barbarians, but that's about it. The streets were loud yet quiet, laughter and everyday market chatter filled the streets. The icy-blue streets all of a sudden seemed warmer.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ashe put her hand on Ezreal's shoulder. "I swore on my life, my honor, that I would protect this place. Ever since my mother died and I picked up this bow, I vowed to make sure nothing happens to my- no, our home. Blood doesn't belong on the snow that falls here."
Ezreal nodded his head. "That's very noble. I couldn't possibly handle that kind of responsibility to hold at such a young age," he couldn't help but admire the courage Ashe had.
She responded with a small giggle. "I'm sure you would if you loved something as much as I love my home and the people here. You're a good guy, Ezreal."
"Hm, you're awfully sweet, arent'cha?" Ez gave a cheerful smile. Adventuring was always lonely and whenever something disheartening happened, it always made your courage wane. But the small things in life always make things better.
The people on the streets gazed at their queen and the young hero, listening in on the two's chatter.
"Oh, and who is that little man?…" The ladies on the street gossip and giggle. Ezreal didn't seem to notice, but Braum laughed behind them, and Ashe became a little quieter. Small drops of snow fell to Ez's shoe and melted.
"Ah, here we are, friends!" Braum opened the door to the bar, Ezreal and Ashe followed in. They sat at a booth, ordered drinks, then Braum gave Ezreal's shoulder a hard pat and winked at him, following that was a chuckle, then he got off the table and sat at the bar to Gragas and got a special order of goat milk.
Two large beers seemed to slam on their table.
"Jesus, these things are huge... alcohol?" Ezreal lifted the giant glass and stared at the brew.
"What, you can't handle it? Bet you aren't even old enough to drink, little boy~" Ashe teased him, picking up her glass and downing nearly half of it and one go, then letting out a loud sigh.
"Please, I can handle my alcohol just fine," Ezreal smirked nervously, putting the edge of the glass to his lips and downing the entire thing. The burning sensation didn't deter him from losing. The men stared at the boy in amazement.
"Holy- I was joking! Are you okay?" Ashe said, amazed.
"Hah, and you said I can't handle my drink!" Ezreal gave a confident grin, followed by a loud burp. Claps were heard from around the room by most of the men.
Ashe couldn't help but laugh. "You're absolutely crazy. Hey, Gragas, bring me two more!" she held up her fingers while downing the rest of her glass, then slammed the empty glass on the table.
"The Queen is brash today! Haha!" People in the crowd cheered with drunken smiles.
Gragas plopped two more to the table. "Yer outa yer mind if ye think ye can out-drink tha Queen! She's got more stomach than me!" The fat man said, giving a challenging wink, a hearty yet heavy laugh, and then waddled off to prepare more alcohol.
Ashe and Ezreal smirked and glared at each other.
"Cheers."
99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, you got ? bottles of beer on the wall…
Ezreal's eyes seemed heavier than they have ever been. He gave a few coughs and looked up at the table, which empty mugs filled and made an opening for Ashe's head.
He shambled over to her and put her hand on her shoulder and shook her. "Heeey, wake uuup." Ez closed his eyes and his head was pounding, and slowly leaned over and pinched her cheek. "Waaaakey wakey…"
"…Ezreal?" Ashe lifted her head up to him. Ezreal's face was really close to hers, and his eyes shot open in surprise.
"Ah, I-uhh… sorry, I'm just tired," He tried to laugh it off, but that shock seemed to wake him up a little bit.
Ashe seemed embarrassed as well, as she turned away slightly, but stood up.
"Well… you hold your drink pretty well, can't remember the last time I drank with you," Ashe said, smirking.
"There must be a reason you don't remember then," he smirked back. "I'll drink you under the table again, scrub."
She stuck her tongue out. "Bring it."
…?
The ground below their feet shook.
A heavy earthquake?
Sounds like what seemed to be a charging army was heard outside.
Ashe's eyes shot open. "This isn't helping any hangovers," Ezreal said in a bad moment.
"Ezreal, come with me!" Ashe grabbed his hand and ran out the bar, unsheathing her bow.
Clansmen and women were rushing towards the entrance of the city. They followed and climbed up to the large, frosty gate.
Siege weapons lay out and battle-ready warriors stood outside the great city. At the lead were champions he had seen all too many times.
Sejuani led the charge, and followed were some of the most savage inhabitants of the Freljord.
Tryndamere had approached the grand gate as well. "What are these mongrels doing?!" Tryndamere boomed. "You here to pick another fight, pig? I'll slaughter you and the rest of them if you take another step!"
Sejuani ignored him, and approached the gate. "Ashe, you understand why we are here, do you not?!" She yelled out in an agitated voice.
"Your pointless civil war on us only hurts the people of the Freljord further, Sejuani!" Ashe yelled out with her bow at the ready.
Sejuani's boar grunted from beneath her. "I despise you on the grandest scale, scum, but that is not why we are here."
Ashe looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Sejuani threw an object up to the high-rise of the walls. Ashe caught the object and looked at it.
A crystal of ice. Dark, black frost covered it with a faint glow from the inside.
"What does this mean, sister?" Ashe said.
Her boar snorted once more. "Do not call me that. Do you know not of this epidemic across the Northern Freljord?"
"Epidemic? Is is spreading?!" Ashe became suddenly alarmed.
"Nearly half of the North is becoming consumed, and trolls are rising... So you do know of it!" Sejuani raised her voice.
"Hold your tongue, swine!" Tryndamere raised his blade over the castle walls. The roars of the opposing faction was heard.
"Wait… Ashe, let me see that crystal…" Ezreal inspected the dark, sickly crystal. It was deceivingly cold and had a powerful, evil aura.
"Sejuani, I will give you a chance. Allow us to talk of a solution!" Ashe shouted out.
"Give me a chance? A chance for what? Your heads could be laid on pikes by sundown!" Sejuani lifted her mace. However, she just as quickly dropped it and took a deep breath. "Grant me access to your city and we will talk for a solution. Try anything funny, and your city will be rubble by the morn."
"…Open the gates." Ashe walked down the steps of the wall. Ezreal, still inspecting the crystal, followed with Tryndamere.
"Olaf, Volibear, you take care of Bristle and tell the clan to set up camp." She hopped off of her boar and took off her armor and mace.
"Are you sure about that, Chief? What if they pull something?" Olaf questioned.
"Olaf, you should know of all people that I am not afraid of death. If death were to take me, blood will be spilled across this tundra. And I expect you to head that." Sejuani turned back towards the rising gate, her surprisingly beautiful body walked toward the grand city of Rakelstake. Olaf held his tongue.
Sejuani nodded to Ashe. Tryndamere slowly walked alongside her as they walked to the palace. No friendly faces or smiles were seen, only disgust and hatred towards her. She paid them no mind, but a returning bitter look.
Ezreal caught back up to them and held up the crystal. "This… this is blackfrost, correct?" He asked. Both Sejuani and Ashe nodded in response.
"It taints the ice and ruins the snow, no life found near, except monsters and corrupted beasts," Sejuani replied.
"Blackfrost is an extremely rare substance and has only been accounted for once many, many years ago here in Freljord if I'm correct. Where does this come from?" Ezreal was piqued with curiosity.
Sejuani snorted and Ashe gave a small grin. "Who are you, boy?" Sejuani looked him down. She wasn't much taller than him but still seemed to be looking down, as he just seemed half as strong as she. Ezreal finally looked up at her face, which was surprisingly pale and freckled, yet was beautiful, and emanated strength.
"Ahhh, you're that boy who flings magic around like it's a toy! I remember you from the rift," She gave an agitated but cocky grin.
*I'm probably older than she is…*
"Well, yeah, that's me. Nice to meet'cha," Ez replied, a slight agitation in his voice.
"You shouldn't get too familiar with her, Ezreal," Ashe said with a straight face, walking forward. "She's killed many of my clan."
Ezreal turned, previously naive to the bitter stares across the streets of Rakelstake. He coughed nervously and went back to walking straight. No more words were exchanged until they reached the palace.
Sejuani and Ashe sat at a negotiating table in the palace. Tryndamere sat at Ashe's side and Ezreal paced around the room, crystal in hand.
"So, you know nothing of the spread of the blackfrost?" Sejuani questioned.
"I know as much as you do, if not less," she replied. "Also, Ezreal, what are you walking around for?"
He looked at the crystal, then back up. "I was just thinking… this has to come from a source. Has anyone ventured deep enough in to the North to know where it comes from?"
"Anyone we send doesn't come back," Sejuani replied.
Ezreal looked back up in shock. "There must be a way to find out where it's coming from…"
"Heh." Sejuani snorted. "What are you even doing out in this fjord, boy? You're far too small to survive here."
Ezreal closed his eyes and felt a slight rush of heat.
"He saved my life, after that last battle with your men!" Tryndamere shouted across the room.
"You wouldn't need saving if you weren't weak, fool!" Sejuani taunted.
"Enough!" Ashe became irritated. "I want a solution and peace, that is all!"
"Hmph." Ezreal cracked his neck. "Then, why don't you go find the source, Sejuani?"
"Hah! To give the Avarosan a tactical advantage in the war by them sending me on a suicide mission? You jest, weakling." Sejuani laughs.
"You people and your fucking politics. Fine, then I'll do it myself," Ezreal tosses the shard of frost on the table.
Ashe's jaw dropped. "You can't, there's no way I'll let you! You won't survive!"
"Haha, you think you can impress me by going to kill yourself? Maybe you think you can mate your little queen that way?" Sejuani scoffed and got up.
"So, instead you wait here with no solutions, marching up here for answers and leave with a laugh and no solution. You and all of Freljord will be dead by the end of the week if what you're saying is true," Ezreal said.
Sejuani frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The blackfrost will consume the Freljord if it's spreading at this rate. Trolls and other powerful creatures will invade the clans. I'm going to find the source."
The room was silent. Ezreal opened the door and left to his room to gather his things. Ashe hurriedly followed.
"You can't do this, you're going to die!" Ashe grabbed his arm.
"Ashe," Ezreal put his hand on her head. You're the queen. And I know that out of all the people in the world, you would sacrifice anything for your people, am I right?" He gave her a warm smile. Ashe looked confused still.
"There's no better person you can find to do this job. I don't mean to gloat but, I am a prodigy. I'll find a way back with a solution."
Ashe stood still for a second, thinking, then nodded. "I understand, but it seems like we don't have much time."
Sejuani and Tryndamere followed out of the room. "What do you suppose we do, Ashe?"
She turned to them. "Ready the Horn of Winter."
"You wish to call Anivia?" Tryndamere looked surprised.
"If what Ezreal is saying is true, we must act quickly. And if the trolls invade, we must be ready. We have no time," Ashe said. "Sister, ready your warband."
"Do not call me sister." Sejuani walks out and hurries to the outskirts of the city.
"Ezreal… You can still change your mind," Ashe said, pleading with her crystal blue eyes.
"Please," He gave another cocky smirk to tell her not to worry. "I'm the best at what I do."
"The horn is prepared!" Servants of the palace called out. Ezreal grabbed his coats and pack stuffed with survival equipment and rations.
Ashe walked over to the horn and blew. The sound resounded across the mountains and rumbled. Through the mountains, the shape of a bird flew down.
The Cryopheonix descended from the mountains. The very large bird perched herself on the side of the railway.
"It is good to see you," Anivia knelt her head down to Ashe. "I know why you call me, Avarosa."
"Yes, we have no way of getting through the blackfrost to find its source. We need your assistance. Ezreal here has volunteered to venture deep to find its source, but we have no time, Anivia." Ashe backed away, leaving Ezreal to Anivia.
"Ahh, so you are the one. I believe we met before, on the Rift, Explorer."
Ezreal smiled. "Yeah, quite fond memories those were… Nevertheless, I, uh, think we should get going. Is it okay to ride on your back? Sorry, I never really rode on a bird before so I don't know if it's rude to ask or anything-"
Anivia let out a motherly laugh. "You are a strange little one, Ezreal. Climb aboard." She rested one wing to the ground to allow him on. Ezreal sighed, then mounted on her crystalline back uncomfortably.
Ashe was wrought with concern and looked up to Ezreal with pleading eyes. "Be safe. If you can't make it just come back, if you were to die I don't know what I would do..."
Ezreal gave another reassuring smile and a nod. "You be careful too."
"Are we prepared, Ezreal?" Anivia prepared.
He nodded. "At your will."
Sejuani looked back towards the palace, as did the rest of the city. She gazed at the great Cryopheonix soar through the air and a man atop, radiating determination with the screech of the bird.
"…You'd best come back alive, fool."
END PART 1
A spreading epidemic of blackfrost is taking over the Freljord. Ezreal, being the prodigy of an explorer that he is, sets off to find the source of this and put a stop to it. In the meantime, those of the Avarosan and Winter's Claw safeguard Rakelstake... but the tides of battle are fast approaching...
A/N: Well, nothing much to say. Welcome back, but I guess I'm not the one who should say that. 18+ scene'll be juicy. Literally 7 pages and still going, if you were one of my lemon fans. Very detailed and such as all. And much more adventure and citrus to come, hopefully.
Edit: I wanted to clear up how the Institue of War had discontinued war practices more clearly, so I revised the beginning a bit, as this will be important later in the story.