Chapter One: The Call
A blue light emanates from a ruin of an old temple, cutting through the light of the stars and the darkness of the dead forest. The stone walls are cracked, the bluish glow seeping out of every crevice and beaming out of every shattered window. Cold air surrounds the place, colder when one approached the temple's center. Fog veils the temple and the forest around it. There is only silence, save for the whispers, filling the air around the temple, louder when one came closer.
Inside, there was a man in tattered, red robes, levitating upon a column of azure ectoplasm. Faces of souls scream, appearing like brief pictures in the essences of the blue magic, their mouths agape, as if suffering and screaming, though there is only the sound of airy shouts... airy whispers. A chilling blue tempest swirls around the man, whose eyes and mouth glowed with the same fiendish aura. His dry, bony hands outstretched, an iron staff grasped by his right hand, an ancient tome open end-to-end on his left. His white, dead hair whipped to the rushing of the wind and his body lay motionless, suspended by the power of his blue magic.
And, there was the calling. The calling that he waited for every night, hoping to chance on the voice, the voice of his patron. He always sensed his presence, always felt his observant eyes watching him, yet the one who watched never spoke. He wanted to make him speak, to break the stare of the omnipotent eyes, to bring them to conversation. He needed to hear his patron's voice, for that would fulfill his purpose, cast his destiny and finally place the forbidden prophecy to motion. But never did he speak, only watched and waited, as if mocking this man, who seethed unholy powers to call upon his patron.
Never did he answer.
Karthus...
His voice like a thousand swords clattering against each other in a violent storm. He can hear him. An instance of glee overwhelmed Karthus. The first word of his patron that he so worshiped was his only zealot's name, Karthus's name. The Deathsinger's magic glowed even brighter, the souls' screaming now quieted, now truly whispers. It was a moment of tranquility. Whom he called finally answered.
Master... I am here, master... Karthus communicated, his voice, blank and obeying, silently echoing through the very foundations of the temple ruins.
Karthus...
He spoke of his name again, yet Karthus did not respond, awaiting for his master to continue.
There is danger, Karthus... Our cause is endangered... With every word, his master sounded even clearer, and even more terrifying...
What must I do, master? What is endangering our cause?
Silence draped the air around him. His master did not speak for a time, but Karthus waited, and his patience held.
My eyes see destiny, the destiny that is the end caused by my judgment, but I can no longer see it. I find an obstacle... An obstacle that makes the future uncertain and befogged, a fringe in time that can only be aligned if there is an intervention...
Karthus's tone did not hint worry, wanting to sound eager to his master. What must we do, master? How can I assist this intervention?
No, Karthus, you will not assist... You will be the one to intervene. My presence is erased from Runeterra, and my own power cannot shift the course of the future. The answer lies in you, my only form of presence in this realm. Find this fringe, align it to benefit my cause, and the end shall become truly clear...
Karthus sense of duty did not fail him, no matter how vague his master spoke. All he understood that there was something that must be done, and only he had the power to solution it for his master. How will I begin, master?
You will be put to the test... Prove yourself, Karthus, decide for me and bring us to destiny... I will reward you greatly, a power over death second only to mine... Fate is playing upon us, and we must win her game if my prophecy should truly come to this world...
Fate... Fate was a larger being than his master, and Karthus knew it. It was fate that Runeterra came to existence, fate that shaped its history and its people, and fate that brought him to the path of dread and undeath. It is always uncertain in the beginning of every forked road, and now, he can see another intersection, another test of destiny, but this decided the destiny of all life that tread on the realm of Runeterra.
A darkness veils the future and I cannot see past it... Light the way, Karthus, find the path to the end of all...
The magic around him glowed even brighter, so bright that the entire area was engulfed in azure. The motionless body of Karthus began to tremble. The head of his staff shook and shined beams. The ancient pages of his tome flipped and flew to this unnatural tempest that roared around him. The souls began to scream once again, their wails echoing with the rushing wind, shaking the dust off the temple walls. Karthus looked around him in the chaos. The sudden burst of power wasn't in his control.
Master, what is happening?
Karthus... Do not fail... Find her... There, your mission will begin... And you must choose for the good of the prophecy's fulfillment...
There came a confusion, a confusion that Karthus never thought he would experience once again. When he had come under the service of his lord, all that was set before him was promised never to move, to never shift, and that he only needed to follow and he would arrive to where his destiny promised. Yet, now, his master spoke to him for the first time, and his words told him that all that was before him was to move, and it will be him alone that will decide where he would set them. Choice, consequence, destiny, Karthus thought he had mastered them all, but now, the confusion returned.
It was then he realized that the confusion he felt was not confusion, but fear.
Master, where are you taking me?! Karthus screamed past the faceless shrieks of his captured souls, his tended sheep.
To the land known as Valoran, to begin your duty... Find her... The woman of shadows...
His magic began to envelope around him, the sickly hands of his captured souls took him. Karthus could not move, as hands gripped him on every limb. Karthus struggled, but his weak, thin shell could only do so much as shake. He looked around him, feeling them on every limb of his body. Their eyes glowed, their skin dry of life, their teeth sharp, their mouths agape, screaming, wailing into his ears.
What are you doing to me, master?!
Fate tests you... You must master... The other end... of the spectrum...
He could no longer feel his master's presence, as if it faded in an instant.
A voice broke through all the sounds. "Karthus!" The Lich heard his name. It was a familiar voice. "What is happening?!" Karthus looked to his front. Thresh stood, his head glowing with an expression of wonder, his lantern shining a sickly green past the azure light, and his hook hanging by his other hand.
"Thresh..." Karthus uttered. "I have come to ensure the End..."
"You're disappearing! Your body is..." He paused. The many souls that Karthus has captured engulfed every part of his body. "You are being taken by your own toys!"
"Leave it be, Thresh... This is for the good of us all..."
"No!" Thresh began to spin his hook, the ringing of the chains sounding past the screams and wind. "You are a fool! The souls are eating away your flesh!"
"Thresh..." Karthus grew even weaker. "Leave me be... I have heard our master..." There was the touch of pleasantry in his weakening voice. "The time has come... I shall fulfill my duty..."
"You are delusional, Deathsinger! Now is not the time for you to truly embrace death!"
"Thresh... You are mistaken..." A cold beam from the sky came upon Karthus, engulfing him in a light that shined brighter than anything. It began to close upon Karthus, the beam pinching down, focusing on him.
"Mistaken or not, I will bring you back!" Thresh hurled his chain hook.
It flew towards Karthus, slashing into the ectoplasm shortly after, gripping into the Karthus's chest. Thresh pulled with fiendish strength, but the souls resisted. He continued to pull, but it was like a child heaving a monument. "Karthus! Don't do this!"
"Too... late..."
"No!" The souls pulled his hook out of his chest. They flung it back to Thresh. He did not expect this. The hook's blunt end fell to Thresh's stomach, pushing him down to the dusty temple floor.
The beam closed down, its width needle-point, then, a great blue light that can be seen all throughout the Shadow Isles encompassed the temple in a great flash.
The winds stopped. The screaming of a thousand souls halted. The azure light faded and left only the green glows of Thresh and the beams of his lantern.
Thresh pushed his heavy, rusting hook aside, and took it by its chains. He got on his feet, muttering "Karthus, you idiot..." as he did so.
And there, on the center of the temple, lay the staff and book of Karthus, their owner now gone, taken somewhere no one in the Shadow Isles will ever know. "Bah..." Thresh said, as he stepped towards the Karthus's belongings. "Alone again, it seems." He set his hook down and picked up Karthus's staff. "Why did you do it?"
l—l—l
Karthus saw only darkness. There was this strange feeling that embraced every part of him. A feeling he has never felt for so long. A hot, softly biting sensation... The fiery touch of sunlight...
Then, in an uncontrollable instinct that he has thought long forgotten, fresh air rushed into him and his chest steadily rose. And all of a sudden, and without thought,
The Deathsinger drew breath.
AN: I don't really have much to say, but yeah, I noticed that there were just too few Karthus fics(like, 10) and he's my AP main so there was justice to be had. This story would have short chapters or so, nothing too lengthy.
I know, the pairing might be a bit... different... but let's see if we can make it work :).
Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends or claim any ownership. It rightfully belongs to Riot.