A/N:

I probably shouldn't start off with another story but I felt for something I could write for a change and so I came up with this. A LoL-fanfiction that I wish for you to read. I'll be active with both this and my AC-III, don't worry. So, I hope it'll be a pleasurable reading! Enjoy, but don't forget to R&R! You can't even imagine how happy it makes me to see whenever someone starts to follow or fav. ^^'

PROLOGUE

She raised her rapier and brought it down with lightning speed. The elegant sword cut the wooden dummy once, twice, trice; the blade flew with such swiftness that it was impossible for the human eye to trace its motion. After what might have been just a couple of seconds or a whole hour, he didn't know: he was just there to watch. It was his orders and as long as they paid, he had nothing to lose.

"Watch her," was his command. "Study her movements."

It wasn't like he was thinking grimly of his situation or having second thoughts. She was a very… impressive being. Fairly tall – perhaps to his nose – she stood superior over most of the other women in the Institute of War. Her hair was ebony with some streaks of red and was cut short to her face, framing her aristocratic features with an edge. Azure eyes were focusing on her target, her countenance never losing the roughness of her clenched jaws. Her body was fit and muscular but still very feminine and soft in its way that he knew she would never win in a battle of strength with him.

"Miss Laurent? You've been called upon to participate in a battle."

"Yes, I know."

He was amused to see the little man struggle to show the respect any champion should receive by assistants. It was obvious to any onlooker that the woman ignored the summoner who had chosen her in a fight and that the novice was there to remind her yet again that she wasn't in her Demacia anymore. She was in the Institute of War and there she had to follow the rules as everybody else – except she didn't.

"Then why haven't you met up with your team in the Rift? You are failing to honor the vow you took when you entered these halls; I must report this to the High Counselors."

She snorted and turned away from her target. Her sharp, noble eyes scrutinized him for a moment but showed no friendly emotion. They had had their trifles – directly supervised and in the hands of the summoners, of course – but those fights had not been pleasant. It usually always ended even between the two and he was determined to change that into his advantage. He wouldn't let a weak woman like her win over him. Not even if the Void would threaten to come and consume the whole world would he let her win over him. Not a woman. Not her.

"There's no need for that; I was just finishing here. Let's move," she ordered and hurried away, sheathing her weapon as she walked. The novice ran after her, muttering curses under his breath.

He despised her, yes he did. He had never before met with such a proud, self-important woman. She made him furious whenever she opened her small mouth, gloating out her glorious victories over other conceited people. For him the battle was neither for glory nor honor. He had been forced to kill and join the military for him and his brother's sake of survival. His quick rise of power wasn't due to him winning duels and flashing with a sword; it had been him staring death into its eyes and refusing to lose. He didn't lose. Not with anything. He would fight and do whatever it took to win. That was how he had been raised up and how he would live.

"Darius."

Darius didn't turn around but greeted the man.

"General Swain."

"How goes the observations with our fair lady Laurent?"

He rose up from his seated position on the bench and finished his mead.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, she's being disobedient and stuck-up as usual," answered Darius and scoffed. "She's a real pain, that one. Not even her own comrades can stand her. I think you made a mistake when you told me that she would prove useful."

"When have I last been wrong?"

"Never."

"Then what are the chances that I'm wrong now?"

"Slim to none."

Swain nodded and started to continue walking. To any observer it would have seemed like they had greeted each other but this was much more. Darius had learned the way the General spoke a long time ago. The enigmatic man never spoke directly in what he planned or what he wanted, but let his subordinates handle it on their own with the little information that was given.

"How fares your brother? Has he arrived here yet?"

The General's voice was neutral but Darius hinted something similar to expectation. He made a polite bow and replied:

"He sent me a letter before left Noxus; I guess he'll be here any day now, if not any moment."

"Good. Very good," said Swain and adjusted his coat. The black raven sitting on his shoulder squawked in protest. "Tell him to report to me as soon as he appears here."

"Yes, General." Darius couldn't hinder himself from continuing. "Has he done something not agreeable?"

Swain paused before answering. The crippled man was now standing in the other end of the room, leaning on his stronger leg.

"Of course not, I'm just going to give him a few instructions."

Then he limped away and the weak thuds that were of his cane disappeared with him, leaving Darius alone.

Darius sighed. Everything that he had done so far was to keep his brother alive and he had even made the younger of the Blood Brothers join the military for a while. Six months were all it took before Draven gave up. In his pursuit to find his perfect audience, Draven had become an executioner, working in the many prisons of Noxus. Draven's job was for anybody else dirty, shameful and horrible, but he made it a show for other people to see when he killed condemned prisoners. Now, the Glorious Executioner searched for an even bigger stage and more fame; Draven was chasing another dream, a dream where the whole world knew who he was. And his tool to get there was the League of Legends, a place where fighters from the entire world gathered and showed their individual skills and talents.

"Brother…" Darius clenched his fists. "Don't die on your road to become famous. It's not worth it, not in the end."