IMPORTANT! THIS IS A TRIGGER WARNING, ADDED DUE TO REQUEST. This story may or may not contain disturbing content that may severely affect some people. The purpose of this content is not to be controversial, but to be realistic to the world being portrayed. I hope anyone offended or hurt understands, and I hope this story can somehow bring you solace in the end. Thank you for your time.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following takes place in 20 CLE, approximately 2010 in real life. This will only pertain to what has/hasn't happened in the lore along with what champions are currently part of the League of Legends. Each chapter will have an updated Author's Note. Transparent invisible lines besides the one after the notes represent a major change in time/scenery as dashes and multiple line breaks are not possible.
I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One
I sit in one of my school's old storage closets, now turned into a makeshift testing room, waiting for the unknown. My hands tremble and my heart races as nervous anxiety claws into me. A weight seems to have settled on my chest, and my breaths come out ragged and uneven. It seems almost impossible that such a bland room would be able to strike so much fear into me.
I take a deep breath, trying to pull myself together. I know that sitting here, worrying about this test won't help me, but the fear is relentless. Maybe if I distract myself with other thoughts I'll be able to relax. I take another look around the room, searching for something to catch my attention.
The grey brick room is decently sized, and the metal table I sit at occupies the center of it, with a second wooden chair resting across from me. The dim light from a lantern on the wall shines on a mirror hanging from the door a few feet behind the same chair. My eyes catch my reflection in the mirror, and I am reminded yet again that Noxus is in complete control of my life now, even down to what I wear. My school uniform doesn't look like anything else worn in Ionia, or the rest of Valoran for that matter. I guess it falls under the "Imperial" style of clothes, an ugly, yet robust fashion that most Noxian prefer to wear these days.
The top half of my outfit consists of a button up blouse made of white cloth with a dark black blazer buttoned over it. The blazer is decorated with a crimson trim, and matching stripes run in intricate patterns along the back. A small red emblem sits over my heart, which depicts the three Ionian provinces currently occupied by Noxus. The rest of my school uniform follows a similar trend, a short black and red trimmed skirt, dark black leggings, and shiny black formal shoes.
The outfit itself isn't the part that bothers me, it's what it represents. I was two years old when Noxus invaded my province, so I never got to actually wear the traditional Ionian clothes to school, but I've worn them to festivals and at other special occasions. They feel a lot more comfortable and modest. They also look natural and casual on people, but these mechanically mass produced outfits... they only remind me of everything Noxians have done to us. Done to me.
"You're just another Ionian coward, too weak to stand on you own, but too proud to bow down. I can see it, plain as day, and now... everyone else can too."
A sharp pain flashes through my head and snakes down my spine as I force those memories out of my head. I can't lose control now. The past doesn't dictate the future. I need to calm down, so I look back into the mirror, ignoring my clothes this time, and look at my general features.
My looks are normal for an Ionian girl, a slender face covered by long, straight black hair and long bangs. My deep blue eyes peer back at me, slightly bigger than other Ionian's. Some of my friends have told me that my slender build and soft face make me look elegant and beautiful, almost like a princess, but I personally think I'm just average looking. Maybe it's just one of those things though, and no one really looks good to themselves. Or maybe...
Before my thoughts can trail off, I hear footsteps approaching the door. I can feel myself involuntarily tense up, but I try my best to look calm and not like I'm about to lose my lunch. The handle turns, and a teacher wearing loose blue robes enters. He is of average height, with an aged face covered by a trimmed grey beard and long hair. I think I have seen him somewhere before, but I can't be sure. He looks both ways down the hall before closing the door and taking a seat across from me.
His dull brown eyes fall on me, and he says nothing for awhile. My heart pounds loud enough that I'm sure he can hear it, and I fiddle my thumbs nervously, not really sure what to do. Finally, though, he begins speaking in a quiet, ancient voice.
"I can't be sure how much time we have to talk, so I apologize for cutting directly to the point. I'm sure you've heard many rumors about this test and are feeling very scared right now, but I need you to listen very carefully. I'm not supposed to be here right now, and he should be here any moment, so we need to hurry. First of all, do you know why you're here?"
I blink at the sudden intensity of his tone, trying to form a coherent thought. His seriousness seems to confirm my worst fears, but deep inside I still secretly hope the rumors aren't true. They can't be true. I clear my throat before responding.
"I'm here to take a test that will reveal whether or not I have any magical talent, and if I do, how strong it is," I answer shakily. He nods reassuringly at me.
"You are correct. Ever since the Noxians took over the three Ionian provinces, they have imposed a rule that any sixteen year old born here must take a 'Magical Aptitude Test.' At first glance, this test seems designed only to figure out who can use magic and what their potential is. They say it's so young mages can have the proper guidance and tutoring to expand their talent."
Maybe it's not as bad as I thought then, if they only want to know if I can use magic. Could I really have been wrong about all Noxians being heartless? I mean, maybe it was just the few I've met so far. Maybe-
"However, this is not the case."
My heart sinks.
"Noxus wants to keep Ionia weak because weak people are easy to control. Think about their culture. They train their sons and daughters for combat, politics, and manipulation from the day that they're born. Ionia teaches history, math, and strives for enlightenment. The only people who could possibly pose a threat to them are the mages, those who can bend reality to their will. People like you."
The silence afterwards stretches into an eternity with every racing heartbeat. I swallow, my throat suddenly dry, trying to say something. Anything.
"How did you know?" I manage to whisper out.
"Rumors, as I'm sure you know, get around. I've heard the tales of the magic you've used and how your spells seem to take the heat out of everything around them. Even you." He sighs impatiently, waving a hand. "How I know is besides the point though. The thing that really matters is what happens to the people who are found to be able to use magic during this test."
"They kill them, don't they?" I blurt out, the fear finally breaking my wall silence. "That's why people disappear during this test. They wait until the test shows which Ionians can use magic and then..." I trail off as he starts shaking his head.
"They don't do anything so obvious," he says, in a tired voice. "If the test shows that someone can use magic, they send them off to military training to become a Noxian battlemage," he says, stopping to see my reaction. I don't really understand, so I just stare blankly back, and he sighs.
"Let me rephrase that. They send children who have no idea how to fight to train amongst Noxian candidates, who have been prepared their whole lives to kill. These same children are expected to fight against each other to simulate combat. Accidents tend to happen... especially to the Ionian recruits. Ionians sent to that training… well…"
"We don't stand a chance," I whisper, realization flashing through my mind. Being put up against a Noxian recruit is a death sentence. They won't hold back against an Ionian, someone who they've been trained to hate all their lives. I've seen what happens when Noxians challenge Ionians to duels before. It's more of a slaughter than fight. They would make sure we don't leave that training alive.
The teacher nods at me gravely and continues in a quiet voice.
"One thing everyone knows is that Noxus has no use for the weak. Whether it's a dual initiated by another recruit, or a 'training accident,' not a single Ionian student I know has survived being sent there."
The cold, hard logic of this death trap sinks into me. It's ingenious, really. Noxus can only control us if we are weak and unwilling to fight back. An Ionian mage would be able to stand up to them, and killing an Ionian, a kid no less, would raise an uproar. So they just had to get creative. I know Noxus hates Ionia, but making a test to kill students with magic is just... cold. Colder than I once thought possible. I should know better by now.
The teacher stares at me in the silence that follows, folding his hand together.
"There's still hope though. There are potentially two options for you to choose from. The first would be to try and hide your abilities. This test measure magical energy, but if you can manage to focus on something boring and control your emotions and power, it won't detect anything. Someone with your talent should have no trouble doing it, if the rumors about you are true."
I bite my lip nervously. What he says makes sense, but I've practiced using my power almost every single day since I learned about it, and I still have trouble controlling it. My discipline and focus are great, it's just that my natural power is... deep. I've tried to find out how deep many times before, but it always just feels as if I'm drowning in an endless sea. How am I supposed to hide that much power?
"The other option is to try and pass the test."
My eyes shoot up from the table to him. It never even occurred to me that like all tests, there had to be a way to pass. This has to be the answer. I lean forward, listening closely.
"You see, they only send you to the military if you have a small amount of talent. However, even Noxus thinks it would be a waste to send someone with lots of talent to military training. If you pass the test, they send you to a private academy to train you to become a summoner. The League of Legends only accepts the best of the best, so many city states have created academies to help train mages to become the perfect candidates. One such academy has recently been opened here in Ionia by Noxus."
I try to wrap my brain around what he is saying, but everything seems to be happening too fast. The very idea of someone like me becoming a summoner is ridiculous. I'm good with magic, but not that good. Even if I could pass, is that what I want? Wouldn't that mean leaving my family behind? And how could becoming a summoner be any easier than surviving as a battle mage?
My racing thoughts come to a screeching halt as I hear loud, steady footsteps coming down the hallway. The teacher hisses out a breath and continues hurriedly in a whisper.
"As exciting as that option seems, I urge you not to do it. I have never seen a student pass this test. Not only that, but the students at that academy would mostly be Noxians, and would still try to destroy you. I urge you to try and hide your talents. Just remember the meditation techniques you've been taught, and control your emotions. I'll be here the whole time, so just stay calm, and focus,"
With that, he stands up and leans against the wall, making it look like he just arrived.
The door opens, and a man wearing black and red robes walks in, a pointed hood shrouding his face. He glances at the other teacher before he closes the door and takes a seat. He sets a blue glass orb with runes etched into its surface on the table, pulling out a leather book from his pocket. He looks to the Ionian teacher.
"I trust you didn't begin without me?" he rasps out.
"Of course not."
The Noxian seems skeptical as he turns back to me. I briefly catch a glimpse of his features when he turns. He has a gaunt face with spiky black hair and cold brown eyes. I realize he can't be more than a few years older than me, but his merciless eyes make him look much older. He catches my gaze with his own, and I suppress a shiver.
"Well then, let us begin. My name is Zerick Ashford, but you can just call me Zerick. And, of course, this is Mr. Grant," he says, gesturing to the Ionian teacher. "You are here as per Noxian law. Every sixteen-year-old is to be tested for magical talent, so they may be taught properly on how to best make use of their abilities. Do you understand so far?"
I nod, trying to look calm. I don't have much time left before the test, but I can't seem to relax. My hands clench into fists underneath the table as I think over my choices. The only thing that is clear is that no matter what I choose, I must decide quickly. Zerick raises a pencil to his book and begins writing.
"Alright then. Let's start with a few simple questions. Name?"
"Aria Kessler," I manage somewhat steadily.
"Where were you born, and how many immediate family members do you live with?"
"I was born and raised here in Sakara City. I currently live with my mother and brother," I shift my eyes to the floor. I mean, that was technically the truth. Even though Akira lived with us, he wasn't blood-related.
"What about your father?" he asks, looking up at me.
"He died before I was born," I lie, keeping my eyes on the floor. He actually died fighting during the Noxian invasion, but something about this man makes my skin tingle. It feels like it would be a bad idea to tell the truth, so I lie, hoping I seem convincing.
He nods slowly, looking back to his book, and I let out a silent breath I didn't know I was holding.
"And, as far as you know, do you have any magical talent?" he asks, his eyes never straying from the book.
My heart races, and time slows to a crawl. I look up at Mr. Grant's eyes. They reflect fear, and I realize he looks almost as scared as I feel. Almost. Something finally seems to click in my mind after seeing him. If I answer Zerick truthfully, at least I will be choosing my own fate, not leaving it up to chance. I cannot, I will not, let someone choose what I become. Never. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, and answer.
"Yes," I reply, my voice coming out surprisingly confident. Zerick looks at me carefully in the silence that follows, his dark, beady eyes taking new interest in me from underneath his hood. Mr. Grant slumps against the wall, looking defeated, like my fate is already decided. But it hasn't been. Not yet.
Zerick resumes speaking, "How strong would you say your talents are then? For example, are you naturally talented, or have you just recently learned you can use magic?"
I lick my suddenly dry lips before responding. "I've been able to use magic since I was eight, so I guess it's natural."
He smiles at me, like a predator who has found its first meal of the day. Or like, I don't know, a Noxian.
"Well I suppose we shall have to see just how good you are then, won't we? Please explain to the girl what she will be attempting, Mr. Grant," he says, getting up from his chair to lean against the wall by the door. Mr. Grant clears his throat, stepping forward as he waves a hand at the orb on the table.
"This is a viewing orb, which is used to watch the matches broadcasted by the League of Legends. Normally, an orb would be fueled by magic from one of Runeterra's many ley lines. In case you didn't know, ley lines are invisible, underground, magical 'rivers' that flow throughout the world. Recently, the League has started using crystals to divert these ley lines to the surface, creating wells of energy. This allows people to power magical equipment with only a minor talent of their own. In fact..."
Zerick clears his throat impatiently, and Mr. Grant raises a hand apologetically towards him. All of this sounds familiar, mostly because I've read a few books on it in school. One of my teachers had explained that discovering ley lines was huge because it allowed anyone to use tools previously only accessible to mages. Mr. Grant clears his throat and continues on.
"There are currently no ley lines fueling this orb. That means all of the energy has to come from you. You will also have to make sure the energy is focused, so the images come out clearly. If done correctly, this orb will create a clear image of an ongoing league match. Do you understand so far?"
I give a shaky nod as the Zerick looks up from underneath his hood, obviously impatient with Mr. Grant's progress, so he takes over.
"You will be graded on the visual clarity of the spell, and how long you can maintain it. The spell is designed to require more energy as time goes on which will make your test take slightly less time," he rasps, smiling at me. I shiver under his icy gaze, and look into the seemingly inconspicuous orb that has now become the hinge on which my life will turn.
"Begin whenever you are ready," Mr. Grant says staring at me somberly. I bite my lip.
"Umm..." I begin to say, but Zerick lets out an impatient sigh, glaring at me and causing me to freeze in my tracks.
"S-sorry, but I was wondering whether or not you wanted me to create the spell with direct contact with the orb or from a distance," I say, my voice wobbling only slightly.
They both stare blankly at me for a few moments. Triumph flares through me as I realize they didn't expect me to know anything about magic, but I'm probably more prepared for this test than anyone else. My training and knowledge has to give me some sort of advantage, and I figure this might be it. After a few seconds, though, a huge grin spreads over Zerick's face and my triumph swiftly fades to doubt.
"Well, normally we would have the students put their hands in direct contact, so that if they had any magic, their emotions would act as fuel and activate the orb. Considering you already have told me you can use magic, I'm willing to let you use whichever method you prefer. Creating and fueling a spell from a distance requires a lot more effort, so if you can pull it off, I'll give you higher marks," he rasps out in a chilly voice.
I jerk my head in a nod and slowly rise from the chair. My legs feel like jelly, but I manage not to fall. I walk to the very back of the room and turn to face the orb, now resting a few feet away from me. I then raise my right hand and close my eyes.
There are two basic steps to creating any spell. The first is to create an imaginary framework which includes figuring out how much energy the spell will need, what you want it to do, and how the spell will function. I could skip this step though, because the orb was already enchanted, giving a permanent framework. So that left the second step, which was calling up and focusing the energy required.
Magical energy can come from three different places. First of all, you can take it from the environment to help power the spell. This lets you power things without using your own energy, but it can take a lot of focus to control and shape it into a usable form, which can tire someone out quickly. I dismiss that option immediately.
The second place is from your blood itself. Every mage has a certain amount of magical power within them that grows as they use more spells and become stronger. This energy is commonly referred to as mana. Mana is easily controlled and formed into spells, but you only have so much of it before it has to regenerate. It's sort of a mage's "latent" energy, the power they can access at any time. I would definitely use my mana, especially considering just how much I have, but there is one other thing I could call on. The third power source. Emotions.
I take a deep breath in, letting it out slowly and focusing on nothing but my heartbeat. A book I once read summarized that magic was simply willing something into creation because you wanted it bad enough. Therefore, emotions were the perfect place to get power from. Emotions generate a lot of energy, but the downside is it's very hard to control that energy. If emotions are put into a poorly controlled spell, they can cause disastrous side effects. The only thing is, I don't need to worry about the spell breaking. The orb's enchanted, so I only have to worry about controlling the energy when it's called forth.
I began gathering my power with just calling up my mana. I imagine it as all the veins in my body lighting up with energy, and I push until the light is burning as brightly as possible throughout me, like thin criss-crossing lines of lightning. I've never tried to call up all my mana at the same time before, and now that I have I realize I've forgotten something. Controlling magic, whether its casting spells or just directing it, takes a toll on the mage's body. Calling up this much magic and trying to channel it would tire me out fast, and if I wasn't careful... No. It's way too late to worry about that now, I have to go all in. The mana finally finishes welling up, a webwork of blazing energy flowing through my veins.
Now I reach into my emotions, imagining that the magic will fill up all the gaps in the web. I reach out into my fear of failing this test, and my fear of succeeding and having to leave my family, and pour it into the spell. Next, my doubt and anxiety. I begin to feel the energy humming throughout my body, but it still isn't enough for me, so I reach into my memories. Not the good ones either. The strong ones. The nightmares that keep me awake at night.
I recall the horror of the Noxian night raids on rebels within the city, the bitterness and sorrow that followed the news of my father's death, and the images of blood stained streets littered with corpses that were once my neighbors. Mothers and fathers being hauled off to labor camps, and starving children being beaten just for trying to survive.
Some good memories somehow sneak in too, almost like the warmth of a campfire on a cold night. The loving hugs of my mother, and her compassion of taking in a kid who had his parents ripped away. The kid growing up to be my best friend, more of a second brother really. My actual brother and him standing up not just to protect me, but taking the burdens of all the other Ionian students on their shoulders.
Then I stumble upon the nauseatingly fresh memories, scalding hot and raw. The happiness of making my first Noxian friend at school. Our shared secret. Our unexpected friendship growing, then suddenly turning bitter and shattering. His face as he walked away, and my regret.
The betrayal, and all the events of that day follow closely behind. The overcast sky that gave way to cold, misting rain. The smell of mud mixed with my own blood, and the helplessness and sheer terror. Being hunted. The struggle to simply breathe, let alone stand up and walk home. The shame, pity, and above all the loneliness that followed. The determination that I would never be that helpless again, and the bitter happiness of my brother's revenge. Of my revenge.
I reach out to all of this, and the energy swells within me, so powerful it hurts. It spreads throughout my whole body, filling it to the brim with sheer, burning hot power. My skin grows even colder as the energy seems to suck in even my body heat, desperate to get every ounce of power it can get its hands on, like a starving man devouring food… or a girl fighting to save her life.
I open my eyes. A deep purple aura now surrounds my body, a side effect of so much power being willed into creation at once. I feel my eyes glitter with energy as I look into the orb. I vaguely notice Mr. Grant is standing with his eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Zerick appears much the same and has dropped his leather book and pencil to the ground. Between me raising up my hand and then calling up so much power, only a few brief seconds have passed. I'm not done impressing them yet though.
I reach out with my mind, focusing on the orb. The enchantment "feels" like a sphere with paths branching out in all directions, like an ancient tree's roots. I imagine a path being opened between my hand and the core of the orb, and the energy I've gathered suddenly snaps out into it. I gasp at the intensity of the surge and grind my teeth, forcing it into a controlled stream.
The orb reacts the instant the invisible pathway is opened. It shoots up to about eye level and shines brightly for half a second, forming a shining cube of light around it. As I rally my focus, the cube flashes into a condensed form. I dimly see that on each of the faces of the cube, a clear picture of the same League match is being shown, with the spectator heads-up-display and everything. I quickly shut out the noise and go back to concentrating on the spell. I know that If I try to watch or listen to the match, the spell will quickly slip out of my control. I do notice that the aura around me is gone though, only appearing around my outstretched right hand.
I also notice the searing hot power I had gathered has slowly lessened. It's still there, but now that it has an outlet, it steadily surges through the open conduit. It's a constant struggle to continually remember my emotions, especially my stronger ones with their smoldering intensity, and I find myself clenching my left hand around my right wrist, redoubling my efforts. I have to pass this test. There is no backing out now. I can't lose. I will not lose.
Time passes slowly. The sheer amount of work I am putting into this spell takes its toll quickly though, and I find myself sweating after what feels like a few short moments. The amount of concentration to just control the spell and all of my energy is tremendous. The spell's a lot more complex than I thought it would be, and I realize that without the orb acting as a focus, I would normally have no chance of putting together a spell this intricate. The energy within me begins to no longer completely fill every ounce of my body, and as the energy fades, fatigue settles in. My hand and legs now shake and only a dim trickle of energy remains within me.
I don't know how much more time passes, but it doesn't feel like much. I need to hold out longer. Sweat drips down my brow, and a few stray strands of hair stick to my face. I gasp for each breath, fighting to simply breathe. I can't fail, not now. I have to survive. I groan, my teeth grinding together as my legs struggle to hold me up.
Suddenly, I feel the last mote of energy leave me, snapping away like a bowstring. I gasp in pain, shattering my concentration, and ending the spell. My legs go limp, and I fall, but someone manages to catch me. Through blurry eyes, I see Zerick slam open the door and sprint down the hall. I slowly turn to look at the person holding me, Mr. Grant, I think. He is saying something nice and reassuring to me as he sets me down against the wall, leaning my back against it.
I try to mumble my thanks, but my mouth seems numb and heavy, and it doesn't come out clearly. I feel like I am forgetting something important, so I close my eyes for a second, to try and remember, but the world quickly dissolves away into blissful nothingness.