This will be a multi-chapter story centering around league of legends universe using Soraka and Veigar as main characters.
I do not own Riot. I am not affiliated with Riot other than playing their fantastic game. I do not own any of the characters apart from any I wish to create. All of the ideas are my own along with my co-writers. Enjoy!
Prologue: The first Descent
Silence. The air within the room was still and colder than a Freljordian winter. Nothing moved, as if the area was encased within ice. Glass lay shattered across the worktops and floors, reacting like fallen stars to the beams of cold light that lit them. Objects big and small were strewn across the room as if a violent, hasty search had occurred. The largest object in the room stirred. The frail silence shattered as the object moaned loudly.
Crusted blood made small streaks down the healer's face. Bruises speckled her exposed skin, ranging from shades of red to purple. Her eyes flickered open, greeted by the light of a late afternoon sun.
The healer's mind was patchy from the attack; she recalled little of it, and none of what she remembered made any sense. All she remembered was the repetitive thudding of punches and a sharp stab that sent her conscious into a numbing darkness. Whatever it was that happened to her, as well as the accompanying concussion, left her floor bound.
She lifted her hand, each joint painfully moving with a protesting crack, and rested it against her abdomen. Her once clean, silky dress was stained with dirt and blood. Another groan escaped from her throat as she attempted to lift her arm further than where it now rested. Her muscles and joints protested violently, trying to convince her not to move. It took an impressive force of will from the healer to even think about moving her arm. It seemed every little bit of tissue, cartilage, and bone caused searing agony with the tiniest of movements. She would have screamed if she had the energy to do so. Attempting to stand was, at the moment, completely out of the question. The healer tested her voice. A brittle croak replaced the intended words. Trying again, she focused all her remaining energy and concentration into her speech and let out a feeble call for help.
Soraka didn't know whether she'd been successful or not with her second call. All she could do was hope that the pathetic whimper she made had garnered some attention. She began having a bloody coughing fit, the pain of which ushered her into her second descent into darkness. She slid down the table she lay against; her face hit the ground as she doubled over by the sheer force created from her coughs. Darkness followed...there would be much more to come.
We all exams and Christmas to prepare for but chapter one will follow shortly. Compliment and criticize as you see fit.