Due to my scheduling and time constraints, I will most often upload new chapters before they have been fine-tuned for mistakes. I apologize, but this gets the chapters out in a more regular fashion, and I can work on edits during times when I'm not on my computer.
Few places in all of Runeterra could enemies and allies alike gather, and bloodshed does not quickly eventuate. On August 13 22 CLE the Institute of War called forth a mandatory meeting to all champions of the League. A new distinguished member of the League of Legends, they announced. The general hall this morning, unlike most, was filled with champions. Some smiled gleefully, excited for the newcomer. Others with disgust, of having to be in the same proximity as those they'd rather behead. Sitting considerably far from the rest was a man with silver locks tucked in a simple tail behind him, his arms and legs gleaming of mysteriously dark amethyst. Varus watched quietly at the crowd, his bow gleaming at the sight of Noxian generals across the hall. It yearns to slither out of his wrist into combat, its blood thirst raving, but Varus resisted. He knew the penalty of misconduct.
Varus calmly surveyed the crowd as they settle down in their seats. It has been several months since he joined the league, and progress has been made in his search for the Noxians responsible for ending the lives of his family. Yet the more victims he took, the more he, or rather his curse, hungered for bloodshed. The curling screams of his victims haunts his sleepless nights, and even now as he sits stiffly on the back few rows of the stadium seats, eviscerated bodies with shrieked faces flushes through his consciousness and he cringes.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the caliginosity that burns away at his limbs consumes him entirely.
The stadium hushed as the High Council enters. The middle one stepped forward and spoke with a booming, clear voice.
"Greetings, Champions. I trust you are all well prepared for today's battles. This morning we are all here to welcome our newest member of the League. She is a reputable, powerful sorceress from the Jumungu Jungle that wields the blades of nature at her fingertips. Ladies and Gentlemen, Yordles and Beasts, I present to you: Zyra."
The crowd turns to look as a delicate, yet sure-footed figure stepped into the sunlight. The leaves and flowers of exotic flora adorned the entirety of her being, while vines bestrewn with thorns slithered from her shoulders down to her fingertips. Varus watched carefully as her lips unfurled into a smile before unleashing a roar of maniacal laughter. Human. Yes, she is. And yet she carries with her the air of a rampant beast fresh from the wilderness.
A savage.
No. Perhaps a cursed savage.
Varus wondered if the sorceress before him embodied the fate he faced. He unconsciously gripped the caliginous growth writhing up his arms as he lingered on the thought.
A flicker of green and red brought Varus back into the present. Zyra graces the stage with a bow as the High Council steps back into the shadows. She poised one arm into the air and suddenly an assortment of sprouting bulbs emerged from the dusty ground. They seemed to each be about the size of a head; its outer leaves resembled the brilliant shells of beetles, and yet appeared supple, etched with veins and pulsed gently as if to carry a heartbeat. A pause. Then with one swift motion the sorceress cast her arm down and a frenzy of nature exploded onto the scene. From every bulb a vigorous stalky growth ruptured through its budding leaves and out into the sunlight, swarming over the barren ground and slithering over every bare surface. The crowd stiffened a little as everyone looked up to the overgrowth suspended above them, the blades of leaves poised at the audience's necks while the barbed flowers unsheathed their petals and hissed. Then without warning, the plants hastily withdrew back into their unassuming bulbs, and then withered into dust, all within a blink of an eye.
All around the stadium a resounding applause was heard. Zyra grinned as she proudly held her graceful posture in tribute to her electrified audience. The previously twitching swarm of darkness that plagued the Ionian's limbs suddenly hushed its chaotic movements. Varus rarely did so, but just this once he allowed himself a smirk in appreciation for the plant sorceress' dark humor, his lips ached as they reached into the unfamiliar corners of his cheeks.