A yordle sits on his bed as his mother pulled a pendant over his neck, whispering words into his ear.

"This was passed down from my father, and I now give it to you," she spoke, her voice not wavering for a second, "In times of need, I want you to clench it tightly, and hope,"

A smile and a shining of the jewelry was all it took for Nero to become infatuated with it. Dark...with a faint trace of blue. It looked like the ocean. It resembled his dark blue fur in a way.

It was in a time of war and tragedy that Nero came into the world, born in an Ionian household with nothing but a pendent to look down to. It was a sort of hope for him, a symbol that despite the amount of death he saw come around him, that he'd be fine.

That hope began to waver one day as his mother rushed into his room and wrapped him in several blankets, rushing him out of the home he had come to know and love for so long. He remembered reaching a hand out to the wooden home, looking up as the skies darkened and became riddled with cannon fire, and reaching down to that pendant. He rubbed a thumb over it and watched it glisten. The hope came back.

Perhaps it was a relentless sort of hope, and perhaps it was unhealthy, but the young yordle thought nothing else of it. What else would there be to hold on to in times of need? What else would keep him grounded to the world he had known? War created an uneasy feeling...and curiosity.

Noxians were always set on their conquest over Ionia, after all.

What drove them?

He had searched for an answer and found none, for his mother's lips were tight, and his father was uninterested. It was natural for Ionians to have a vendetta against Noxians, but Nero at least expected words of hatred. He expected swears that dripped with venom, curses that spoke of nothing but threats of death.

Somehow, silence was more frightening.

However, Nero kept his hope with him. Hope for a brighter future.

His father left them alone after they had relocated, having left to participate in the war, and Nero was sealed inside of a room with his mother, who kept him close as he heard shouts of pain that were soon followed by bullets. He lost track of how many times he had heard a BANG sound out. His mother eventually heard silence sweep over the area, and Nero was reminded of his father's silent anger. The parent left him in that room to check outside.

There was a shaky breath, a choked sob, and a scream.

Nero's face fell. The hope tapered out. Gone.

Years Later

The war had finally stopped. The age of bravery and sacrifice had disappeared, and peacefulness returned to Ionia. The Noxians had retreated, and Nero's mother was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Now much older, Nero had set himself on the path of enlightenment, a path that many other Ionians chose. Which direction did not matter, and the journey was left up to who chose that path.

Nero admired that sort of ideology. Freedom was what he desired above all else. The freedom to make his own decisions. Go where he felt, revel in what he chose, and most importantly, believe what he felt was for him to believe.

Around the time where he was asked to choose a path for himself by his mother, he'd been sitting by the streams just outside of his village. A faint trace of hope had come back to him. He stared down at the pendant laid over his heart, and he was left to think to himself.

The stream. The stream went on faster than usual. Nero had found himself drawn to the water, and dipped a hand in. He spread his palm out and closed his eyes. He exhaled, a feeling had washed over him. It stilled his heart, calmed his mind, and put him at ease. He forced his eyes open as he felt himself tip forward, and into the stream he fell, struggling to reach land again. He cried out for help, and the villagers came as he pleaded, but they only got a glimpse of fur disappearing down the river.

"This was passed down from my father, and I now give it to you."

His mother's voice echoed in his mind as his hand fell from the surface.

"In times of need, I want you to clench it tightly, and hope."

That, he did. Nero grasped the pendant that hadn't left his heart, and hoped just as he'd been told. His panic slowed, his racing thoughts calmed themselves, and he felt that familiar feeling from before come back. He allowed it to swallow him, flowing across him with each passing moment, and his mind was once again clear. He sunk to the bottom of the river bed, and held against the running water, still...unaffected by it.

His lungs were starved. They burned, both metaphorically and physically, for the need of air. But there he sat, still, under the surface of the water. His pendant shined faintly under the water, and he lifted a hand, rising from the river again.

He grabbed for the shore, coughing and shivering. Nero found himself too far from his village, and his immediate thought was his mother. But with no way back, Nero decided to wander until he recognized a path.

But with wandering became curiosity, a familiar curiosity that he remembered back during the war. The desire to understand. The desire to feel and know the world around him. What had he been missing, so sheltered by his mother? What was there to be afraid of? Surely the past didn't matter anymore.

He wanted freedom, after all.

Nero couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. Perhaps he'd finally learn something.

Later...

"Wilderness isn't exactly what I thought it'd be..." he rubbed his nose and yawned. "Looks pretty, though. That's just Ionia, huh?"

Nero's eyes wandered through the lush trees, and he ran off ahead down some unknown path along the river. He wasn't aware of where he was going, but to him, that in and of itself was his journey. Blindly taking his path is what he wanted to do.

But perhaps blindness wasn't what he was asking for.

He felt his pendant tighten around his neck, and he grasped at it. It was only then that he noticed growling from nearby. He turned his head and clenched his hands into fists. He was unarmed and in the middle of nowhere. A complete death trap.

"W-Who's there?" He looked around for a weapon. "Show yourself!"

There was nothing but a sharp rock, but it would have to do.

At that moment, the growl became a roar, and a panther charged into view. Nero shrieked and dropped the rock, forgetting his courage and running off. The panther pursued its prey, ducking under branches and weaving through bushes. Nero stumbled over a fallen tree and turned his head to see death staring back at him. The panther charged, and Nero swung a hand up in defense. He felt that rush of energy once more, and the water bended towards him, stretching outward in front of the panther, and slowing its charge. Nero's breath hitched, and with his hands tightening again, the water began to freeze over. The panther struggled before it was completely closed in ice.

And that was when Nero realized that perhaps his mother kept him sheltered for a different reason.