Hello everybody. Jeez, I guess it has been a few months since I've posted anything new. This here is a story I thought up and wrote while I was drunk, which just so happened to be about 10 minutes ago. Tell me if you like it, and I may think about continuing; also, before you ask, yes I will be continuing Blades of Noxus. I just got a bit of writer's block is all. Anyway, gimme a review and tell me what you think.
Rain, it was all he ever felt. Even in his heart, it seemed that there was a never ending storm. His soaked, black hair covered the piercing red eyes that so many feared. A child that no one wanted, and so he was alone. Until that day, the day he met him; the day that he was reborn.
It was another day for the "red eyed freak" as he was commonly referred to; an orphan for as long as he could remember, the boy had no memories of parents or siblings. His earliest days were spent wandering Ionia, as he had no true home. The boy kept himself alive by feasting on the scraps left behind by the wealthy. An occasional petty theft wasn't out of the ordinary either. But today was different; it was on this day that he would attempt something that had never crossed his mind before. Murder was on his mind, a large shuriken decorated his person. The newfound weapon cried out for the blood of the oppressors. The nobles of Ionia, so happily content with their luxuries while the poor received nothing. Shaking with excitement, the boy could think of nothing more than the blade he had stumbled upon slicing through the flesh of all those who had denied him of a normal life. He basked in the profound, cold steel in his hands. It was an empowering feeling, one that he had never felt before. For the longest time, he had felt weakness throughout his entire being. Every day was met with the hardship of survival, and no matter how hard he worked towards his goals; at the end of the day, he was still nothing more than a street rat in the eyes of his elders.
The boy cared not who his victim would be, his actions would not be about a grudge, rather they would convey his anger; a crimson red to paint the streets with his hatred. For once, his dark heart had felt warmth. The young boy sat on the ground, his back pushed against the side of the stairwell as he fiddled with the weapon in his hands. It was still very early in Ionia; the sun was only just rising in the so called "peaceful" land. It was a foggy morning, which was just the way the boy liked it. A thick veil of fog would hide him from would be tormentors. He had hidden in the shadows for so long; he had all but forgotten what incandescence the sun brought about. The child examined the steel that lay in his palms; even though the air was thick with condensation, the metal glistened, causing a rare smile to form on the boy's face. In fact, he was so lost in his deep gaze, that he almost missed it; the moment that would change his life forever.
The silhouettes of two figures appeared through the Ionian fog. The young boy acted with haste, leaping to his feet in an instant. As the figures moved closer, their features became clear. On the left stood a tall man, his hair was brown with a trace amount of gray hairs; he appeared to have a calm nature about him, but at the same time the boy could sense his will; to the right of the man stood a unique looking specimen. A boy, who looked to be around the same age of the observer; his face showed no definite emotion, the two boys were polar opposites on the physical scale, black hair that darkened the world around it; silver locks which fed luminosity into the atmosphere. The sound of footsteps grew ever present, when suddenly, all sound ceased to be. Mere meters separated the two parties. The two boys locked eyes; piercing red met a calm, golden gaze. Time passed as a battle of eyes ensued, the crimson-eyed boy began feeling a knot in his stomach; the glare of his counterpart was oddly intimidating. It was then that he remembered why he was in this situation to begin with. 'Revenge' the word echoed through his mind. Not revenge on a specific person, rather revenge on the cursed society that cut down his status as a human being. His anger boiled over, and in one swift motion, he sent his steel shuriken flying through the chilled air. Its destination was the chest of the older man. Blood, it was all he desired; watching his blade carve a path through the fog with killing intent, blood was the only result he would accept. CLANG! His eyes widened, his heart sank, the knot in his stomach tightened. A single ninjato halted the movement of the shuriken. The projectile fell to the ground, along with the crimson-eyed boy's hunger for brutality. Confidence became fear; the boy was stricken with fright at what he had witnessed. He didn't even see the other boy draw his sword. Paralyzed by the previous events, the boy watched as the older man let out an elongated sigh, followed by a name.
"Shen." The older man put his hand on the boy's shoulder; that was all it took for him to grasp the situation.
"Understood." Replied Shen. His voice was deeper than what the other boy had expected; however, he had no time to think about the pitch of Shen's voice. Within a moment, a blur of silver was rushing towards him at a breakneck pace. The red-eyed boy barely had time to react before the golden orbs from before were inches away from him. Acting only instinctively, the boy attempted to land a quick jab, only to have his fist land in the palm of Shen's hand. Shen tightened his grip immensely causing his opponent to cry out in pain. Within a moment, the black-haired boy was slammed into the ground. There he laid, jagged stones stabbing into his back and a blade pressed against his throat. The cold feeling that resonated off the blade, made him shiver.
"Alright, that should be enough." The voice in the background broke the seemingly everlasting tension between the two boys.
"But father!" Shen objected.
"My decision is final, Shen." Replied Shen's father. Shen shot a glare back at his grounded foe.
"Understood." He said in a monotone voice. Shen stood up, and sheathed his ninjato before regrouping with his father. The disgruntled boy sat up from his previous position and viewed the two coming together. He was furious, not at them, but at himself. His opportunity was wasted; he was made a fool of by someone who he had sneak attacked. Tears began forming in his eyes, as his eyes found the shuriken which was not stuck in the ground. Warm streams began to make their way down his pale face. He was weak, this day had proven everything that he was ever told. All of the nobles who looked down upon him, they were right, he was nothing but a weakling; a rat in a world of titans.
"Well then, we'd better get back" Shen's father announced. The father and son began walking back the way they came, when suddenly Shen's father called back.
"You too, come along" The boy looked up at the older man and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Hurry up; we've got important things to do." Shen added in an annoyed tone. The boy didn't know why, he had no good reason to follow them. Minutes ago he attempted to take their lives, but now they were acting as if nothing had ever happened. One reluctant step after another, he inched ever closer to the two patiently waiting for him. His gaze once again came upon the shuriken that stuck out of the ground.
"You can take it with you if you'd like." Said Shen's father. A small, yet noticeable smile formed on the boys face as he swiftly pulled the shuriken out of the ground and made his way over to his new companions. He had no idea where he was going, and what he would have to do once he got there; but for once in his life, he felt as though he belonged, he was accepted by complete strangers. A warm aura surrounded the boy as he walked along the streets of Ionia.
"What's your name?" The older man asked whilst continuing to walk. The young boy looked down in confusion.
"I don't know…" He responded. Shen's father chuckled at this unexpected response.
"Well then I guess we'll just have to give you one." The man thought for a minute before coming to a conclusion.
"Zed, does that sound okay?" He asked, turning to the young boy. The boy gave a slight nod before averting his gaze.
"Zed…" The crimson eyed boy whispered quietly to himself. He looked up into the morning sky, where his gaze was met by the rising sun and for the first time in his life, the storm had settled.