Note: I am not a part of Riot, I do not own League of Legends or claim ownership of any of its characters. If you desire to review, please also discuss things about the lore itself since much of the universe of LoL is not exactly clarified. Although I tried to make this as canon as possible, I am only human and my work is open to interpretation.
Horrid moss drooped like the acidic saliva from a beast's mouth, seemingly eating away at stone which no mortal eyes had set themselves upon in eons. Sand, blown from the outside, leaked in with each surge of the harsh wind that was so typical to Icathia.
Through smoked lenses the historian observed untouched history – at least from what she knew. Perhaps recorded history.
Near the stone floor moisture collected amongst the sand that had piled in through the ages. So strange that in such an arid environment the moss could still grow – the historian had to take another look. Collecting herself, she could see the strange energies flowing through it, almost giving it movement… however slight. Without whatever breathed through it, it would not survive.
A slight chuckle. She wasn't here to observe moss. Unless this moss was the key to what lay ahead. Going against her strongest inhibitions, she removed a glove revealing a slender, immaculate hand. It wavered above the moss. Not only did she have to see the energy – she had to feel it. It told of what was to come – this would be just a taste of what would entice her further down decrepit halls filled with horrors unfathomed.
A smirk grew out of the corner of her face as the wind howled of restless souls who trekked here long ago.
Another gust of hot air blasted her exposed cheeks from a crack in the wall. It was time to move forward – forward into oblivion.
She was ready. Mental and physical preparation for months had gotten her this far. The test of making it to this very location was over with. Her mind wandered for a moment, considering those who had traveled to the forbidden lands of Icathia. Those who said they had could simply not remember what happened or what was encountered. The rest… simply never returned. Their disappearances spoke much to her.
But so had her accomplishments.
The orange glow from the sun slowly disappeared, and soon the remnants of pulverized rock did as well. Face unveiled now, the cool air of the passageway was refreshing. Her body had almost now acclimated to the strange environment. Anyone not as experienced as her would feel terrified.
She felt renewed. Or perhaps that was just adrenaline speaking for her. Of course she was secretly terrified – terrified of what she could possibly encounter. But that was a part of discovery, was it not? If she didn't do this, who else would? Some fool like that man Kassadin? Some religious fanatic like the supposed seer Malzahar?
The magical energies inside of her seemed to have calibrated to the energy present inside the ruin – energy that stemmed from the Void itself. As she lifted her torch along the sides of the passageway, the inscriptions and depictions of times untold emitted a certain fluorescence. Sadly, even from her versed background, there was no chance for her to translate these on the spot. It would require a team from the Institute of War in order to decode what little words they could. The pictures, however, told otherwise. Horrid scenes, from what she could gather, of ritual and sacrifice, terrible beasts and other things which from her vocabulary and knowledge she could not describe.
Enthralled, the alien geometry was becoming too much. A mental overload could prove hazardous if her situation soured. Looking back to her path, she prepared herself for what was to come. Unnoticed until now, she stopped, looking down to see her hand shaking as it gripped her satchel. It seemed her mind was not enough to keep her calm. Inside, she was ready to unleash fury upon whatever dared to get in her path. Armed with a keen mind and spell book filled to the brim with spells of conjuration along with other magics, she was prepared for anything.
Not even the Void itself would be able to stop her… or so she liked to believe. Fingers crossed, she hoped for the best as she moved forward.
Time had passed as thoughts clicked away in her mind. The passage seemed to go on forever. With the void ever so present, like an undying aura, anything was possible. What did intrigue her was the level of resistance she had not experienced. Is this what other had encountered before her? Was their sense of security lulled? Were they taken into the Void… or worse… taken over by it?
She knew she would only be able to handle this silence – this dreadful silence – for so long. Nothing made a sound. The outside was long gone. There was no longer the resounding sound of the wind to bring comfort to her now quivering body. No amount of experience in the libraries of Valoran could prepare her to remain utterly resistant to the temptations of insanity. Her fate was seemingly slipping through her very fingers.
Stopping in her path, the historian stood at the top of a set of stairs. She could see no bottom. Maybe there wasn't.
She was prepared for that. Or so she thought idealistically. Insanity occurred without one's knowledge. And that was cruelest part of it all.
Taking her first, confident stride, she descended towards madness, with hardened resolve. This was not only for herself. This was for the cause of knowledge, which the vacuum of the void could never destroy. Chaos was knowledge. And with that protective shield she walked on. Yet with each step her doubt increased. This has been too easy. Even with her knowledge of the Void and the Icathian civilization, no one knew exactly where it was. It was lost to the sands and to the Void – and what was lost to the Void could never be reclaimed. Her travels were based merely upon the information of natives in this eastern realm and a pure educated guess. She knew others who had tried and failed, never to return. Maybe they did find what they quested. Maybe they passed. That was knowledge only to be found with the Void.
Maybe something desired her presence, and that is why she encountered no trouble at all. The rampant theories which were passed off as silly, yet foreboding rumors foretold of crippling insanity. Another step upon another and although her mind and body drove forward on fear and adrenaline, her thoughts were still her own. Her will was strong, and it would take more than the horrors of war and chaos itself to take it from her!
Her mind could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The rumors spoke of cities of ruins in these lands. She had found no such thing. The only structure she found was the one she entered – which appeared to be more of a mausoleum or a tomb if anything. Her studies of ancient civilizations enlightened her quickly that this was in fact not a tomb. It was a passageway to doom itself. Maybe it was her tomb. She did not know.
Only the Void knew.