Part One-The Institute
Chapter 1: Dawn
Humans are so fragile, he thinks, watching the tiny creature run behind him, arms and legs flailing violently in an attempt to keep up with his great strides. The female seems smaller than she is, to his eyes, perhaps because she does not wear the armor of the men.
To be fair, he hasn't actually seen any female humans with their skin covered before.
He slows to a halt by the last of the great towers in his lane to adjust the straps and buckles of his own armor. The metal hums under his fingers—it longs, he thinks, for the scorching sands of his homeworld. This place…what do the humans call it?
He thinks a moment, watching the female human slow to a fast walk as she nears him.
Runeterra?
Whatever it is called, it is insufferably cold and damp. His jade staff numbs his fingers.
"What's your name again?" the female asks him. She carries an aura of such
concentrated optimism that it is faintly sickening. He fights valiantly against the smile twitching on his lips.
"I am Nasus," he says, meeting her eyes (respect that she does not deserve) and giving the slightest of nods, "Curator of the Sands."
"I remember now!" she says, a grin stretching her face. He sighs quietly.
"Yes, Nasus, Curator of the Sands—"
She remembers what he has said not ten seconds ago. Impressive mental fortitude for a female human, he thinks, recalling other partners in League matches past.
"You were the keeper of your planet's knowledge, guarding it from those that would use it for selfish purposes—the greatest scholar in all the worlds!" she gushes onwards, and now he is faintly bewildered. Her little face crinkles up as she taps out a rapid beat on the side of her leg with the baton on her hand.
"There was a conflict between those of your kind—like Kayle and Morgana. Your brother—"
"Do not speak his name!" he roars, springing to life like one of the enchanted stone tekepiin his libraries. His grip on his staff tightens until his fingers begin to ache.
The human female looks at him, wide-eyed and frightened, her baton raised in front of her protectively.
"Humans," he snorts, turning away from her. "Sometimes I understand why there were those on my homeworld that thought you should be ruled."
Already his mind is elsewhere, away from the irritating female, preparing for the battle to come. He steps forwards, away from the tower, as he looks towards the lane.
And into the face of Renekton.
The damp air of the alien planet freezes in his lungs as the malignant gaze of his brother fixes on him, paralyzing him more readily than any toxin. His glaive is already in motion, hurtling towards his head. Something brushes past his face, but instinct has taken over and he has no time for thought. The pages of a million scrolls fill his mind and his staff thrums in his hands as he brings it around in a desperate arc towards Renekton's side.
It connects. The energy surges out and wracks his brother's body, pulling out a part of his lifeforce and dragging it back through the staff and into the Curator of the Sands. But…there are no wounds to heal.
He blinks. There is light, blazing all around Renekton, outlining every last scale. The Butcher of the Sands can only move his eyes.
The female stands with her baton outstretched, blue eyes—eyes like the desert sky, he thinks, as the light spills from her as if she is the sun—fixed on him.
"Are you alright?" she demands, pointing at Renekton. A bolt shoots from the end of the baton and ignites the prison around him. He collapses to the ground, roaring in agony, before the summoner's light envelops him and he is whisked away.
Nasus opens his mouth to say something, anything, but is interrupted by the sudden flash of terror on the female's face. The shadows twitch around her, and a thing with blades rears out of nothingness, starting to laugh…before it meets Nasus' heavily armored shoulder, driving it to the ground as he sweeps out a hand and forces the female back closer to the tower. His jade staff drinks up its essence as he stabs it through the path of darkness that looks like its head, but before he can truly kill it, it flees, the thing of fear reduced to fear.
Nasus takes a slow, deep breath, and rises from his knees.
"What is your name?" he asks, watching what looks like blood spill across her pale cheeks.
"Luxanna. Lux," she says. She looks nervously towards the brush, and Nasus touches her back in a gesture he believes is interpreted as comforting before he grips his staff more firmly and walks out to look for any more enemy champions.
It is later, when he catches sight of her running, the pale silk of her hair drenched in blood, the demon shadow closing in on her. The rest of the enemy team is just behind her. He pays them no mind and charges past her, drowning the shadow in quicksand and invoking fire from the earth under the feet of the advancing champions. He roars an incantation and hurtles past the hideous flesh creature at the van to slam into the winged female as the desert's fury erupts around him and through him, turning his skin to stone and changing the blood the sandstorm sheds into pure, bright power. Then they are upon him. A fusillade of spells from the fox woman and the winged female find their mark in his flesh, a hail of blows from the demon shadow and the undead abomination breaks through the protective embrace of the stone, and a vicious strike from his brother tears open his chest. He lays about him with his staff, drinking in their life energy to slow the death he knows is approaching. Dark cords wrap themselves around his body and the winged female, clutching at her side where a vivid bruise is forming on her pale skin, points at him.
He closes his eyes and reaches for the summoner.
Did she survive?
Yes, Nasus. Good work.
He raises his staff for one last blow, and the dark cords tighten, forcing him to his knees. He manages to smash the tip into the winged female before her spell finishes.
The shadows explode, and he sighs as he falls into darkness.