A Not so Epic Sand Heist and My Soulmate Reward:
Ezreal:
I've done it again! Going out of my depth and returning victorious no one can hold Jarrow Lightfeather back! A small smile of victory graced my lips as I enter the final resting place of the great Shuriman emperor. One of them at least. According to all the history I learned back at home, memorizing all of the lords from foreign lands was the most boring thing you could do. Might as well go look at their tombs yourself, and take a souvenir back with you. Sunlight filtered on from a high window in the tomb lighting up my soon to be stolen artifact. It glistened in the growing dawn light, reflecting the pure gold of the staff onto my face. I breathed in a gentle breath, slowly taking a step towards this rare artifact. Legend stats that it can control the desert sands on this vast wasteland, but when are legends ever accurate?
It was laid carefully onto a castet that was covered in dust. I wiped away the thick layer on the front as the inscription made itself known with wisps of dust soaring out into the still air. 'Azir' it read, 'The Great Shuriman King' I carefully picked up the staff. There were no traps coming in to the tomb, surly there would be many on the way out. The staff was cold, despite being in the middle of the desert. I gripped it harder watching for an explosion of traps to trigger, a cage to fall down, something. Nothing happened. I frowned as a carefully made my way to an exit. A couple of soft steps later, the tomb was just as still as before. A sense of foreboding swept through me. An unguarded tomb? Either someone had already cleared out all the traps, or the item itself was a trap. I adjusted the gauntlet on my hand. I guess I will just have to find out.
I turned promptly and exited the Shuriman tomb the same way I came in. Stepping out into the sun, its morning rays blinded me for half a second, but a half a second was all it took for a blunt object to connect with the back of my head. Pain laced up my skull as the momentum carried me forward into the sand. The staff slid out of my hand and a few feet away. Did I trigger a trap? Could I really be that careless to think I was out of the woods yet? I quickly got up on all fours when a foot connected with my side at full force. No this was a planned assault, judging by the steel toed boots. That's gonna leave a bruise. I activated my gauntlet, or attempted to when someone else grabbed it and yanked it off my arm. Then they twisted my arm behind my back and forced me to my knees. I quickly did a rundown of my assailants. All five of them were dressed in black and red clothing armed with clubs and had standard Noxian thug armor on them.
"Well well Lightfeather, it looks like your luck has just about ran out." The lead thug stated as he picked up Azir's staff from the sand.
"Nah, I'm fine. I'm just giving you guys extra time to surrender or runway before I kick your asses." His eyes flared before he flung the sharp side of the staff across my cheek. My head snapped to the side as I felt blood run down the right side of my face.
"Oh I'm sorry, what were you saying?" My head was pounding, I couldn't even think of a witty retort.
"Boys." Not that there was time. A fist connected with my stomach knocking the wind out of me before the other goons gathered around. The one holding me upright shoved me face first into the ground and suddenly all I felt were feet impacting my body. One connected with my head and my world spun into darkness. Before I fell into unconsciousness however, I heard one clue, "Singed will be most pl..."
I came to slowly, feeling the rough desert sand beneath my fingers as I slowly sat up. I touched my cheek to feel dried blood from the cut, my head was still sore but not in pain, so no concussion. Luckily. The rest of me was covered in bruises, nothing that won't fade overnight. I pulled myself to my feet as a saw my gauntlet still half submerged in the sand. I sighed in relief as I pulled it out, emptied it, and refitted my weapon over my hand. I guess this is what I get for letting my guard down. Whoever those thieves were, they were not interested in my personal belongings. Did they follow me here? The thugs clearly just wanted the staff, so it was a possibility they were going to raid the tomb. Was this a wrong place wrong time situation? Not likely, they knew me. At least alias me. I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. I couldn't figure out their motives through pure speculation, so its time to do some research myself.
The breeze picked up as desert sand spun through the air. Cold. Night was already arriving. I guess tomorrow I will have to hunt them down. I carefully activated my gauntlet, picturing my hometown of Piltover. Long jumps were not something I did often, it took to much concentration and energy, but I definitely did not want to be stuck out in the desert at night. I spun my gauntlet in a circle before jumping into the air. There was a loud pop and a fissile as I landing out of a jump almost fifty miles away. I staggered forward and almost fell flat on my face as I stood just outside the great site of Piltover. The City of Progress. I entered through the gate as the sun disappeared behind the city silhouette and the street lights slowly start to glow up and down the cobblestone streets. I made my way to my uncle's house. My uncle was a professor, highly esteemed and he always wanted me to become a professor too. With a whole world out there, I could never imagine myself sitting behind a desk. There is too much to see and learn. I quickly and quietly entered our house, before sneaking upstairs to my room. My uncle was probably in the library this time of night, so I could probably be out of here by tomorrow before he even knew I was here.
My room was pretty simple, it stayed similar to my childhood days to be honest. A map of Runeterra covered one of my walls while a simple dark wood writers desk sat in a corner, my chair tucked in. My bed was a couple feet off the carpeted floor with a soft mattress and tan comforter neatly made. An airship model was hung from my ceiling still, my dad had helped me build it when I was a child before he went missing with my mother. The mirror hanging next to my dresser reflected my unusually dull and exhausted blue eyes. I was covered in head to toe in sand and the right side of my face was caked in dried blood. I grabbed a washcloth out of my dresser, shed my explorer's jacket onto my bed and headed to the bathroom to clean up. I stripped quickly and jumped straight into the shower already thinking of a game plan to get the Emperor Azir's staff back.
Noxian thugs came after me with my fake name, Jarrow Lightfeather. If they had called me by my real name, Ezreal, I might have been a little more concerned. They mentioned Singed before I was knocked out. All I really knew about Singed is that he is some sort of mad scientist who lives in Zaun. Obsessed with chemicals. Zaun was the rival city to Piltover, its streets where filled with criminals and all types of untrustworthy characters. The one entrance to the city below was guarded by the Piltovern police force, no Zaunites were allowed to enter the Piltover without a permit. Anyone could enter Zaun however, but I haven't ever really heard of anyone trying to get down there.
Personally, I have never been to Zaun, but many citizens talk down on the City of Iron and Glass that was once a great resource before it fell to gang influence. If I was to go after the staff, I could assume it would be brought to Singed. Meaning I would have to go to Zaun for the first time. I quickly got out of the shower and dried myself. Throwing on a shirt and shorts, I shook my hair dry before brushing it out of my eyes. I went back to my room, sat on my bed and began to form a game plan. Getting into Zaun will be easy. Finding Singed workshop would take some doing, but I could probably get some locals to tell me.
A light tingling sensation appeared on my wrist. It was my birthday. The sudden realization hit me like a lightning bolt. I sat stone straight as I covered the inside of my left wrist with my other palm. I was turning eighteen. Not just was this a milestone of adulthood, this was also the day I get my soulmate tell. See, everyone in the world has writing appear on their wrist the night they turn eighteen at midnight. If white writing appeared, it means you have already met your soulmate and those would be the next words they will say to you. If its black writing then you haven't meet them yet and those are the first words, they will say to you. When you do meet or re-meet your soulmate, the words turn a shade lighter than your natural skin color, still readable but a sure sign. When your soulmate dies, those words are carved into your skin as a freshly made scar for the rest of your life.
I breathed in a shaky breath. For the amount of exploring I have done, and the amount of people I have meet throughout Runeterra, there was a very high possibility that my words would be white. What would they say? Would it be romantic? Or would it be something completely ordinary, like hello, or how's it going? I carefully lifted my palm away. To my surprise, the words were printed black onto my light tan skin. As I read the words, something became very clear to me. Meeting my soulmate would not be on good terms. There was a guarantee that most of the town would never want my soulmate around. My heart hammered in my chest and dread filled me. I always thought getting your soulmate tell was supposed to be romantic, or at the least; happy. But no. The words stated; 'Get out of here Piltie!' Only one kind of people called us Pilites; and those were Zaunites. There is a good chance the future love of my life is a criminal.
AN: Hey, this is just the start to a story idea that I've had, if its any good please review! I do plan to keep writing this story, but updates will not be on any kind of schedule, due to mine being so busy. Thanks for reading! PEACE OUT. -ChildofApollo