A scream pierced through the air, followed by groan and the sound of a soft body hitting the earth. Ahri had been trying to escape from a surprise attack from LeBlanc, who drained half her health before Ahri dashed into the jungle, only to be caught by a white-haired woman wielding a giant, broken sword. Riven may have slain her this time, but Ahri had been punishing in lane, and had gotten a couple of kills off the female warrior earlier in the battle.
As Ahri waited to be reincarnated, she could see through her summoner's eyes the slender figure that wielded a sword, which reforged, was easily the length of the killer. And yet, Riven controlled the long sword with great control and ease, her dance as elegant and graceful as Ahri's name.
But it was the eyes of the slightly shorter woman which piqued Ahri's interest. Deep red eyes, darkened to a hue of dried blood, and fringing on brown seemed to stare right through Ahri as she delivered blow after punishing blow. They brought back a memory that Ahri would never forget.
There was once a time when Ahri roamed the forests of Ionia, not as the lithe young woman that she appeared to be now, but as a small, sleek fox brimming with magical energy. One day she witnessed a battle between what she now understood as an invasion of soldiers from Nexus onto Ionian land. Soldiers on both sides cut each other down, a sea of metal moving and crashing upon itself in a terrible symphony of death. As Ahri sat on her hill, she could not distinguish one warrior from the next; all humans looked the same. But then, her attention was drawn to one lone figure that seemed to stand out; a slim figure clad in armour, but instead of a metal helmet, a green hood covered its face. It took a mighty, one-handed swing of a massive sword above it before using the combined strength of both arms to bring a blow down on three soldiers that cut right through them and exploded on the ground that sent debris flying into the air. In its lunge forward, the hood had slipped back, and white hair, tied into a bun that flayed upwards seemed to shine in silver, black, and bloodied sea.
But Ahri was not very interested in the human. She could tell that the battle would be ending soon. A bald man with a huge tank strapped to his back began running around the field, a queer gas seeping from it. All of a sudden, people were dropping like flies, men caught in the poisonous trail coughing up blood before collapsing on the ground.
In time, all the fighting figures had either fled or were dead. When the bald man left, Ahri could see one figure struggling to stand on the battlefield. The glimmer of a spell hovered around its body, having been used to shield the caster from the worst of the gas, but it was too late. The human had probably already inhaled too much.
Ahri had always been interested in humans, but common knowledge stated that approaching one would be dangerous and foolish. But this time, with only the one dying man in sight, Ahri felt not only safe, but an odd compulsion to approach him. Careful of any lingering gas, Ahri bounded to the dying man. When she approached him, she suddenly felt a rush of energy rush out of her body and envelop the man. In a brilliant display of green light, the energy rushed back to her, and Ahri was filled with brimming power. Exhilarated by the experience, she erupted in a series of tremors that took over her entire body before she collapsed on the bloody ground, exhausted.
When Ahri awoke, a full moon was high in the sky. Something long and silky brushed past her face and pooled on the ground in front of her. When Ahri moved to touch it, she discovered that she had not the paws that she was accustomed to, but smooth, hairless human hands, skin as pale and luminescent as the moon that shone above her. Delighted, Ahri realized that she had assumed the shape of the bodies that lay crumpled on the ground around her, and she knew that she had absorbed the life's essence from the now stone-cold corpse in front of her.
Ahri struggled to stand, only to lose her balance and land on all fours. She tried again, and this time managed to support her own weight on two slender legs. Wobbling slightly, she placed one foot in front of another. Then another. Gaining confidence with each step, she was soon running, stumbling occasionally along the way towards a lake that she knew to be nearby. When she reached the shores of the clear water, reflective in the night, she looked over her entire body. She was not disappointed by the naked, lithe body that she saw, or gentle yet clear-cut features of her face. Streaming from her head were long locks of silky hair, black as the hair of the man who died to give her life. However, her moment of narcissism ended when she noticed that she still had her fox ears planted on top of her head, as well as long tail covered in her original white fur. From this, she knew her transformation was incomplete.
When a soft breeze that once would have gently ruffled Ahri's fur blew over the lake, instead of closing her eyes to enjoy the small comfort, Ahri shivered, realizing for the first time just how cold she was. Knowing that she needed to find clothes, Ahri stood to go back to the battlefield and scavenge some garments.
But when she rose fully, Ahri saw that she was not alone; a lone figure stood at the edge of the lake, several hundred meters down. Her hood had been ripped off and her armour had been removed to reveal white breast bindings. In her right hand, she gripped a large, broken, sword. Scattered around her were shards of broken black metal. Her hair was wet, and although she stood in a somewhat threatening pose, Ahri could only notice the young woman's eyes. The moon shone on the figure, making her hair, as white as Ahri's fox fur had been, shine like a beacon. Beneath her the jagged tips of her hair were eyes lit up by the moon, blood red and terrifying. And they were directed right at Ahri.
For a while, neither woman moved. Then, common sense flooded back to Ahri, hitting her with full force. Fear filled her body, and she dashed from that place, diving into nearby bushes, and then kept on running. After all, she had just seen what this warrior could do in battle, and although broken, her sword could still slice her new body into two.
Little did she know that this would not be the last time she would see the lonely sword-bearing woman.