Welcome all, I have Returned with a Long Hiatus behind me, and an evolving sense of writing, or so I think. I wish to return with a Fanfiction that might surprise all, but with the lore growing in this franchise, I feel this is a good write at the moment, so Let us celebrate my return with a new Fanfiction Featuring Garen and Taric. Disclaimer, I do not own the characters featured in this Story, nor do I own League of Legends (I wish).

It was all a blur. His vision betrayed his hearing since he could not register what was going on. Garen's eyes finally started to take in light, color started to take form and the image appeared. he was in a dark room, the only illumination from a small fire that was heating contents in a large pot. He moved up slowly, a breath escaping his lips followed by a groan as he sat upright from his comfortable refuge. Strange, he thought. Last time he was laying down, he was on cold crystal ground fighting otherworldly abominations. He remembered the Void Leader's Wrath, but he could not remember what he was called..

Suddenly, a small sound then a larger sound of the door was heard to his left and he turned, a Hooded figure carrying a small basket walked in. He observed the figure, it wasnt shambling like a corpse, nor did it have any limp. It stood tall, the figure also had quite to physique.

"Who are you?" Garen demanded, his voice low like a whisper but it carried the authority and directness of a General. The Figure chuckled then turned and revealed a small smile.

"Ah, you finally woke up, good friend. Just in time too, I have soup Ready. It should help you recover."

"I asked you a question, Stranger." Garen barked again, his face now wrenched in annoyance that the figure did not do as he said.

"Stranger? or Distant Friend?"

"Do you know who I am?" The hooded figure let out a soft laugh as he moved to a chair and sat down removing the contents of the basket. Various bread, Cheese, and some vegetables probably meant for the soup. "Garen Crownguard, General of the Dauntless Vanguard, Sworn protector of Prince Jarvan the fourth, and Proud Citizen of Demacia." The voice was familiar, it was calm, contrasting Garen's harsh Authoritative one. Garen looked confused to his savior until he removed his hood, his face now softened, and showing...

"Taric..." Garen let the name come out as the hood let Taric's brown hair fall, his soft facial features only glowed in the firelight. Taric nodded at him confirming that it was him.

"It has been a long time indeed, Garen Crownguard."

Garen has definitely been Deceived. He blinked once, staring at the presumed dead Demacian exile as he tried to comprehend the name he called out.

"I do not understand, You accepted the Crown of Stone, you were to climb the Mountain."

"And I have climbed that mountain." Taric said as he took out a knife and started to cut the vegetables. "It was long, cold, arduous, and of course Deadly. I have faced so much when I faced my trials up there, faced my past..." His voice trailed off as his diced vegetables were lifted and dropped into the pot, the sound of the food dropping into the water only heard after Taric closed his lips. "But... I am no longer the man I once was... from the bottom of the mountain to the stars above."

Garen listened, his eyes closing briefly in a blink as he took in what Taric said. He has never come across anyone who climbed the Deadly mount Targon and here is one, a Former Demacian Soldier exiled for his ineptitude. Taric put down his knife and rose.

"Now, Let's see your wound."

"My wound?" Garen mustered out and then looked down at his arm, a brown cloth laid upon it but was moved by Taric who took an expert look at it..

"Where are my weapons and armor." Garen said as Taric nodded at the wound. It used to be a Deep Gash upon his arm, bleeding and ripped skin dangling from his underarm. He was bitten by a Void Monster. Taric did something to make it seem like the Bite never occurred. Garen then noticed a faint light from Taric's hand, the light started to brighten a small gem illuminating from his wrist and some of Garen's wound healed, the redness going down and some scratching disappeared. The beauty of the light, gleamed in Garen's eye, the flash not so overpowering, soothing him with warmth all around his body, not just his arm. He was dazzled by the magic for just a moment, then all of a sudden, like a mirror flipping sides, his face went from awe to pure hatred. His eyes furrowed, and his brows twitched, his pale skin flushing to red, as he realized what Taric posesses.

"There, with a small bit of..." Garen took out a dagger from his Belt and placed it upon Taric's neck, Taric's face now focused on the blade near his flesh. He looked up, his Eyes still soft and comforting despite the situation he is in.

"You use Magic, Taric. You HAVE indeed changed." Garen said, his tone full of hatred at the word magic, spitting as if it were venom. Taric continued to gaze at Garen, his face agitating Garen more. Why was he so calm? Garen can slit his throat right now, however, what would his conscience say about killing his savior? But it was a saviour with MAGIC! He was fighting a battle in his mind and Taric could easily see it.

"Garen, This is the boon I was given at the top of the mountain."

"Some boon. Magic is the Evil of all Demacia, what will you use that magic for? You think you are going to keep me hostage? you will regret it, Taric, Magic Users are..."

"Saving you from a Grievous wound. My magic is not offensive, Garen, and We are not IN Demacia." Taric cut him off, his voice still calm. "I can give you an explanation of what I have become."

"Do not Bother, Magic wielder. I want my armor and Sword, then take me back to my home." Taric frowned at that again then regarded his hand to a small chest.

"They are all in there, but I must implore you, General." He said raising a hand. "You are still wounded, and you need your strength. I am not going to force you into this, but I highly recommend you stay here and regain your strength before heading back to Demacia.. You need it for the long trip back."

Garen scoffed. "The faster I leave the sooner I can get away from you Taric, a magic wielder." he said with such scorn.

"Fine, do not acknowledge me, go ahead and Ignore me, but my duty is to make sure you are well protected in such a weakened state. and I know how much you value duty and honor."

Garen stared at him and he sighed. it seemed Taric has hit a soft spot on him there. He lowered the dagger then he sat back down upon the bed and then covered back up.

"Thank you. As soon as I give out the okay, You can take your items and you may walk out that door, never to hear from me again."

I apologize for the directness to the story, do not worry, more of the story will unfold, including on where they are, what happened to Garen and who are the enemies.. and if Garen and Taric will be a thing.