Important: I'm going to be doing an overhaul on In Need of Saving's story. This marks the beginning of the newly refined journey. Enjoy :)

EDITED [6/12/2017] Even if it takes me a lifetime to complete this story, I will continue to work on it. Almost all chapters have finished being updated and the newest one should be out soon. Thanks to everyone who has read my 1st fanfic :)

––––CHAPTER 1: UNEXPECTED MEETINGS––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The war-scarred land croaked and groaned as the blue arcane being glided quietly through. His very essence throbbed as the location he desired called out faintly to him.

Annoyed with the thought of his actions being conveyed as foolish by the League, he had no choice; they were the ones who forced him to play the cards they unknowingly dealt. He knew it was taxing enough to step outside of The Institution of War and into the Marshes of Kaladoun without their "consented permission".

His sarcophagus twitched in disgust.

No one shall dare control me.

He was certain the moment he returned they would force him into a cell specially designed to contain him for perhaps another millennium, just as they have contained some of the other powerful champions. As long as it's not this cursed enchantment that continues to subdue my true form, it will not hold me forever…

As the dense trail began another sharp turn, a sleek black object blurred past him and struck a large tree near his mask. Instinctively, he responded with attaching himself to the ground, ethereal hands agitating to fire.

Five more black blurs were lobbed towards him, giving him little time to react. Using the broken sarcophagus on his arms to shield his weak frame, resounding thwacks confirmed their hits upon the enchantment. Quickly peeking past his armor, he was taken aback by the champion standing in front of him. She held a strange katana in one hand while the other was getting ready to fire more blades; he could have easily mistaken her for a ninja of Ionia, but he knew that cocky grin of hers too well.

Katarina throws the third wave of blades and begins her sprint towards his grounded form.

"It's not even a fair fight, huh Xerath?" The assassin teased, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Unlatching from the deep rock, Xerath pulled quickly to the side dodging the blades; he retorted back with a fierce heave of a glowing indigo orb. She took the magic head on, ignoring the pain as it tingled across her left shoulder, stunning her briefly. Katarina then gracefully moved to the side as the spell wore off, her jacket's sleeve shredded into ribbons as a menacing surge of arcane power swept past.

Leaping into the air, the world around her slowed, her eyes closing slowly as her body twisted into a delicate arc over him. Eyes opening again, she landed a top of Xerath's bulky frame and punctured the katana sharply into the back of his neck. Instead of severing his mask though, it was pulled from her grasp and into his core, the hilt of the blade protruding like a thorn.

Frowning, she leapt backward off him, skidding a few inches as she touched back down while unsheathing her other sword. Xerath's core blazed with an unfathomable fury as the hatred towards the swift woman began to consume his judgment. He craved for nothing more than to smear her existence out of reality.

Stone mask lowered, Xerath raised both fists skyward then into his form. Furiously, he rapidly pulled them away from each other, his claws unfurling. The clouds above contorted into a gray mess, lightning surging through them until it erupted downwards onto her. The blinding indigo energy stained the air with electricity, sending a shock wave of uncontained power into the landscape.

She was unable to entirely dodge the overpowering attack as a part of her left arm was darkened, blood trickling from her burned skin. Turning away from the injury, Katarina's grimace then altered into a smirk as she looked at the ascendant.

His eyes widened at her jubilant expression, fresh irritation coursing through him when a portion of his left arm crumbled to the soil. Grasping at the missing chunks, Xerath felt his power waning.

What has she done to me?! His mind shouted as he tried to piece together the sequence of the fight. He slowly drifted to his knees, barely able to lift his stone helm to see the assassin walking proudly towards him.

As her shadow fell over his weakened form, part of him was ready for his sarcophagus and his arcane body to shatter. It would just require him more time to reach his destination after he was able to recover. The other half of him wanted to reach up and crush her where she stood, but the unknown power over him was too strong.

The assassin reached for the hilt of the blade, his energy rippling as she neared. Just as she was about to grasp it, a large bush next to her exploded as a small being flung themselves in front of him.

Katarina instantly balked, not taking the blade with her as she faced the new adversary. The being was shrouded within a brown cloak, the hood pulled over their face. Standing defensively in front of him, they gave no notion of moving.

Collecting her thoughts, Katarina disdainfully regarded the intruding traveler. "You must be joking."

In a flash, the assassin stood next to them. Time slowed once more as she could see them sluggishly spinning to face her. She quickly brought out one of her smaller blades and diced away at the traveler. Sudden gashes covered them with an explosive force as they attempted to defend themselves. In a matter of seconds, the assassin had forced the stranger to collapse.

Powerful energy scattered through the air as it once more flourished with an arcane ferocity.

"Oh no―" was all she could shriek as another colossal bolt of lightning streaked out of the clouds and fell upon her. Seconds slowly ticked by as the silence engulfed the battered group.

Dirt puffs rose on cool winds as a barely conscious Katarina shakily got back onto her feet. Seething, she regarded Xerath's expressionless mask as he too stood clinging to his injured body, "We'll end this later." In another flash she disappeared, leaving her target behind.

Xerath stood ready for a bit longer, waiting for her to double-cross him and throw another blade into his back. The marshland was quiet as the mage hesitantly looked about, but she never returned. Sighing, he finally allowed his gaze to drift over to the fallen traveler. Their chest rose and fell shakily as the being rested on their left side. He could detect a small pool of blood forming around one leg.

He glided next to them, observing the precision of the deep cuts along their body. They were of a feminine stature, with long brown hair tumbling down her shoulders as she shuddered before carefully sitting upright. As her hood fell away, it revealed but a glimpse of a white complex tattoo inscribed onto her flesh. He could see the other bits of it beneath her wounds; it covered her from head to toe.

Wincing she looked at him, eyes widening in a kind of admiration and hesitancy. "Ch-Champion Xerath," she choked out trying to stand up, "I have come requesting for your aid. Forgive my intrusion."

"How did you find me?" He questioned, unsure of how she discovered him deep within the marshlands. He was very meticulous about not expressing his daily activities to anyone. Perhaps he might have said something to someone, but he could not place doing so as of late.

Her eyes darted away before looking back at him, "Forgive me. I―I had received information during a match that you were going to make your way through this passage." She hastily added, "no one but myself knew of this."

Turning her face to the side, she mumbled, "Or so I assumed…"

Xerath then straightened, letting his remaining arm fall to the side, his ethereal claws closed tightly. "Summoner, why were you intruding my thoughts?"

He had dismissed the idea earlier, but it was possible for a summoner to know of his whereabouts. Through their mind links, he must have accidentally given away information, although he was exceptional at not letting such things occur. Something strange must have happened during one of his more troublesome matches, which was known for melding the minds of summoners and champions too close for comfort.

Upon his request, she had looked down at the dirt like a guilty child. With no reply given, he turned away from her and thought about making his way back to a small town he had passed hours earlier. He paused for a moment as he flexed his arcane form, willing his missing arm to return. Slowly the limb regenerated but was unstable as the portions of the missing sarcophagus was causing havoc with his body and the powerful spell that bound him to it.

Raising one hand out to the side, he twisted his claws into an empty grasp, summoning the pieces of his encasement back to him. While reshaping his arm, Xerath knew he was going to require more time to finish stabilizing and figure out why Katarina had attacked him. The townspeople would hopefully leave him be once he arrived; on more occasions than he could recall, his reception by the public wasn't generally in good favor.

Inquisitively tilting his mask, he struggled to come up with a reason for the provocation; it just didn't add up. He hasn't crossed paths with Katarina on the Rift for quite some time, and he barely ever saw her outside of matches. Of course, he barely saw anyone outside of those battles to begin with. He generally liked to spend most of his time deep within the recesses of the Institute's libraries and information filled chambers, reading all that has been stored there. That was where he was hours earlier before that strange magicka had called out to him―

"Wait, please..." She cried out quietly. He turned around to see her standing shakily as she gripped her arms, shoulders sagged in defeat. "I have truthfully been searching for you. Without your help, my situation will develop significant consequences."

As the summoner tried to shuffle in his direction, her feet barely lifting up, the incisions wreaked havoc on her muscles. The ascendant watched her as she forced herself to try and maintain her awareness. The way her lips held in a tight pale line told him she was not going to last much longer.

Before the last thought finished crossing his mind, she stumbled not able to catch herself. Pitching forwards, her thoughts gradually faded as she was unaware of her nerves growing numb.

Xerath reflexively caught her as her face scrunched up in agony. Breaking her fall before she collapsed, he stooped down to compensate for the extra weight. He then gently laid her on the trail, taking off her cloak and draping it across her midsection.

Being so close to her, he studied her appearance more as he tried to place where he had seen her at the Institute. A sudden wave of confusion overcame him as he unexpectedly realized how close she resembled Tabia, a woman he had banished from his thoughts so long ago…Why do you remind me of her so?

His human memories of the past bubbled painfully to the surface making him recoil. Memories of joy…of happiness…overwhelmed him as he stood next to Tabia. Then came the feelings of utter ruin as he helplessly watched her being crushed by the temple, unable to reach out and save her; the temple of his own ascension, where he gave up his mortal life and was reborn as an arcane being of power.

Steeling himself, Xerath brought his attention back to reality, his memories subsiding. One hand was stretched out limply in front of him as the fading thought of Tabia disappeared in the rubble. His hand fell to his side as he stood once again, this time looking back to the summoner before him. Her eyelids were halfway open as she tried to look at Xerath, fighting the fog that surrounded her vision.

"Don't go...please. A few summoners of the League spoke of your abilities...that you might be able to help me."

Xerath grew troubled at the mention of the League; they never send anybody his way for any and all reasons. They had personally deemed him untrustworthy from the mere complaints of that petty mage Ryze. The Rogue Mage was partly at fault for why so many despised him at the beginning of his champion life. Even now he had to endure the trivial rumors and distrust of those around him.

Deep in thought, he turned away from her and disappeared into the flora of the marshlands, his blue glow almost hidden. "Wait…!" She hoarsely whispered, barely capable of turning her head in his direction.

His blue light grew fainter until it was nothing but the shades of the setting sun covering the foliage around her. Turning her head skyward, she gazed longingly at the pinkish-orange clouds until a tight crushing sensation filled her chest. Soon, hot tears rolled down her face as the pain grew in volume; she was certain Xerath would have taken up her plea and yet he had left her, probably to die in this horrid place.

She bit her lip bitterly, willing herself to stay awake. She couldn't even muster the strength to wipe the tears away as her mind descended into darkness. Maybe he really is as bad as everyone made him out to be…

Just then Xerath came hastily out of the forest with a very stubborn creature biting down on the broken sarcophagus, his hand fully ingested within its mouth. He tried to fling it off, but its sharp teeth dug further in until he huffed and sent out a small shockwave. Quickly releasing him, the large scaly beast ran back into the fauna, hissing crossly.

"Cursed wildlife…" Xerath mumbled irritably to himself as he glided back over to the summoner.

In the hand the beast fought for tersely was a small but plentiful heap of green berries. He then allowed some of his energy to make contact with the fruit. For a few seconds, nothing happened until it started to boil, cooking into a mass of pulp and juices, some of it rising up in a vapor. Rubbing the messy pulp between his claws, Xerath placed her cloak to the side and began to apply the ointment to the dozens of incisions that laced her.

Glancing over to her face, he took note of her unconsciousness as her appearance was still twisted in pain; her breathing had steadily grown more rapid and shallow. With most of her body now visible, his gaze traced the white runic patterns as he kept working, unable to recognize their meaning let alone why she bore it. She wore a tan shirt that hung somewhat limply and jeans, a common style of the lower classes among the different regions. It was, however, uncommon for summoners to wear things outside of their designated robes, but she did say she was looking for him. Perhaps she was trying to blend into the neighboring societies outside of the Institute.

Blood, mixed with the plant, caked to his claw-like hands and enchantment as he finished dressing her wounds. The sun had finally set with the nocturnal creatures and insects orchestrating their nightly tunes. His arcane energy was the only source of light for miles around as far as he could tell.

Unconsciously looking over his shoulders, he wrapped the cloak around her and carefully picked her up. Mapping out the distance of how far they were from the town, Xerath began to make his way back towards it, troubled by growing suspensions of Katarina coming back to try and finish what she started. The last strike of his spell on the assassin barely damaged her as the first one had, but at least he made sure she would be wrought with pain for a while.

Mulling over unanswered questions, the summoner rested within his arms, some of his sarcophagi pulled beneath her while her head lolled against one of his chains. Even with the raw ointment covering her wounds, some of the incisions started to bleed again, the blood boiling away as it touched his indigo energy.

As his gaze fell upon her small figure, pangs of emotions welled up again within his core.

Fixating his attention back to the dirt path, he couldn't help but feel rather mystified with himself as he acknowledged the summoner and was helping her. More of the ancient unrefined emotions simmered over Xerath's thoughts, making him shift awkwardly in his puzzlement. He knew this would put him in better favor with the Institute and Council, but still…

Being nothing but a puppet and at the mercy of these summoners, they called the shots. Running down lanes to defend towers, and even helping guard and protect other champions who, most of the time, cared little to nothing about each other on the Fields of Justice. What he hated most about such control was the mistakes the summoners would ignorantly make leaving him to take the fall, yet he saw many of the risks in time but could not say or do anything about it. They wouldn't listen even if he tried.

The League existed to keep peace across the land, but it seemed like any other ruse as it allowed certain strong beings to take up the banner and have an excuse to fight. And somehow he allowed himself to agree to it, only for the sake of breaking his enchantment.

Xerath's energy blazed a hue brighter as his temper began to escalate; the female summoner unconsciously replied with tilting her head into his chained chest.

Almost immediately, he felt remorse for not stopping the assassin sooner. No damage would have come to the summoner if he was just faster in his actions, which would not have placed him into the situation he was in now. Being caught off guard was not an easy thing for him to counter. In many ways, he supposed, she did save him from going through the long process of gaining his form back.

What is wrong with me? I shouldn't be feeling sorry for her foolish actions... And yet, a warm sensation filled his essence as he tried to explain away her boldness.

Minutes slowly passed into hours as the magus made his way towards the town that was yet to be in sight. After a few more bends in the road, he spotted the soft yellow glow of a lantern, and then another until the lights marked out a pathway that formed into streets. Buildings sprung into view as the town was quiet with many of the lights dim or nonexistent. Only the lanterns and his blue glow lit the surroundings.

Xerath made his way towards a tavern that he remembered sitting at the eastern edge, one side connected to civilization while the other side of the building gave way to rolling darkness. The structure was about two stories tall, made of a special wooden material. If his own light had not given him away yet, he was certain stepping in there would.

He would have rather made camp alongside the road and away from places such as these; however, the summoner needed a safe place to rest, and the sooner he dropped her off, the faster he could get back to his own mission.

Making his way towards the entrance, a figure suddenly stepped out of the shadows and blocked his way in, slightly setting him on edge.

She wore a striped top hat and a short purple dress with Hextech leather straps wrapped around her legs; large boots seemingly swallowed her feet as they ended at her calves. Resting against her back was a long rifle, one of the few weapons that were capable of out-ranging him on the Fields of Justice. One gloved hand was resting against her hip while she gave him a discontent stare.

"Good evening, Xerath. Where have you been for the past seven hours? Folks had mentioned you passing through here, but as to why, well perhaps you could shed some light on the matter." She stated coolly, taking a few steps towards him.

Xerath coldly looked at her, trying not to seem annoyed with her abrupt appearance. "Nice to see you too, Caitlyn. I should have known the Council would send one of their pawns after me so quickly." It seemed the day would not end with the unexpected meetings. He was starting to fall into a foul mood with conversing with other champions.

"I was indeed requested by the Institute to come find and bring you back from whatever task you have been up to." Caitlyn persisted, ignoring his bitter greeting, "The League doesn't like it when one of its own suddenly disappears without a trace nor a reason from scheduled matches and such." Caitlyn looked him up and down until her gaze fell onto the summoner. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"I'm just here trying to drop something off." Xerath stiffened. He had no reason to explain himself to her, but with the League already searching for him, he became increasingly uneasy. How many others will they send after me the longer I remained away from the Institute?

"That looks more like a 'someone'," She walked up to face him to get a better view of who he was carrying. Looking over the summoner more closely, her eyebrows furrowed together as she observed the blood and several blades sticking out of his sarcophagus. Bringing her head back up to look into what constituted as his face, she crossed her arms, "What exactly happened? Did you run over her?"

"It's of no concern to you, sheriff. And no, I did not hurt the girl." Xerath growled, lowering his mask at an angle as the openings to his eyes became slits. Caitlyn seemed to have taken no notice of his tone and kept talking.

"You know, from my perspective, this isn't looking good for you. First, you disappear without saying anything to the Council, and now I find you holding an injured girl whom I'm hoping isn't on the verge of death." She motioned with her hand at him, expressing his overall stature.

Signing, Xerath realized he was going to need her cooperation if he wanted her to stay silent about this strange situation, at least for now. Even if he told the Council everything of his own account of what had actually transpired, she would probably be able to counter him and win for they automatically trusted the story of a sheriff over the story of an ancient and dangerous mage.

Xerath stood firm but allowed himself to relax a bit, not wanting to show that she was still getting to him, "I have been placed in quite a few situations as of late, and so far the consequences I have been forced to endure is to at least get this girl someplace safe."

"You know," Caitlyn gestured again with her hands, "I can help you with this. But, you've got to tell me what's actually going on." Her stare seemed to have softened as she looked into his glowing sockets. "You seem like you could use some help, anyways."

The sheriff glanced over her shoulders at the tavern then back to him. "I can help you get the girl a room while you tell me what ensued this mess I seem to have found you in." He stood quietly looking also at the building until he slowly nodded his head in agreement.

She then reached out to carry the summoner, almost grabbing one of her arms. The ascendant immediately became defensive as he moved one of his clawed hands protectively over her. Caitlyn backed away quickly, confused by his sudden agitation. "Hey, calm down. I was only offering to help carry her."

"No, I― I should be the one to take her inside. At the very least." He was partly responsible for the damage dealt to the girl. If he hadn't used her to buy himself some time to cast his spell, she might have gotten away with minor wounds. Besides, she was a summoner, which outside of the eight major cities, it was dangerous for them. Any champion could turn around and kill her without a care in the world.

Anyone of them.

Although, at the same time he had just as much disdain for summoners as well. Whatever happened to them was not of his concern. So why had this unknown woman affected him so much?

Caitlyn just gave him a long hard look as he repositioned his arm. She knew of Xerath for not being the conversational-type. The sheriff only came across him on the Fields and outside of that, he maintained a heavy air of mystery as to what he does during his spare time. When he did speak though, it was always in that condescending tone, as if everyone else around him were irritating insects buzzing within his space. But for some reason, that haughty tone of his was flatter than usual, almost like he was exhausted.

"Very well, but let me do the talking at least. You're bound to intimidate them until they're rendered speechless." Turning around, she made her way to the tavern's door and opened it without a second thought.

Xerath hesitated for a moment before following after her.

(Author's Note)

Well then, I'm happy this idea came out in a coherent story. Xerath (if you can't tell) is my favorite champion of League of Legends; though not the strongest fighter, I'd say he's pretty fun to play when you just want to bring hell to your enemies. I plan to dish out a few more chapters, depending on how well it's received. I just think the mage needs a bit of love since he's not brought up a whole lot. Reviews greatly welcomed.

(*Author's Note 2015)

Most of the story from this point out is going to be changed to match the new story path that I have planned out. Hopefully, this will come off better than the previously written one. I would hate to see my ideas die without giving it an ending. I'm going to do my best to portray how I see the ascendant. I hope you all enjoy looking through his eyes :)

(Disclaimer)

I do not own anything of League of Legends. Though if I could...LoL belongs to its' respective owner [Riot]