While I am working on Bloodstained Love, I'm going to try this story out. I realize that this is in a relatively unknown fandom, since this is League of Legends. But, this is a pilot chapter, after all, so who knows where this may lead? None really know, not even myself.
Chapter 1: A Shining Star in the Darkness.
"You're worth nothing. You could never hope to be the man your father was. I feel sorry for any woman that chooses to be with you."
"So, now you decide to show up with your wretched face?"
"I…I'm sorry Jm. I'm sorry it had to end this way. Please, forgive me…I lo—"
"Summoner Jm?" a voice spoke, breaking the trance that the summoner was in. He turned his head with whatever energy he possessed to see a woman in crimson robes right next to him, her eyes a faint blue with a small smile on her face. "Are you alright?"
"Y-yes…I am alright, High Summoner Axia," Jm replied, slightly disoriented due to his dive into his memories. "Is there something that you needed?" She nodded for affirmation, flashing him another smile.
"I need you to participate in a match in two hours, as the original summoner cannot make it. Are you able to do this?" she asked him politely.
"I…I do not know if I can do anything of worth…but I will do this," he replied, giving Axia the smile that defined him—one that masked his pain and suffering.
"Alright, you have ninety minutes to prepare, I suggest you arrive twenty minutes before the match. Farewell, Jm." She turned and left for her chambers, leaving the summoner to his own devices. Jm stood up from the chair he was sitting in, now pondering which champion that he should choose to play his match with. He knew that he would call upon Soraka if he was to be support, Skarner for the jungle, and most likely Cho'Gath for the top lane. Being an ADC usually spelled doom for the team, as Jm was horrifically incompetent with any ranged champion associated with massive amounts of attack damage. As for middle lane…he was conflicted on who to choose. He knew many a champion that would be willing to offer their services to him. Shaking his head, he slowly limped to his room near the Ionian block of the Institute's living quarters, ignoring the four cuts on his lower leg that oozed black blood.
Jm stared for an eternity at his own reflection in the mirror. A shadow of his former self, an undead abomination held together only by darkness. His skin still retained its medium shade of tan, but no blood flowed through his vessels. No, his former essence of life was trapped in stasis, only flowing when wounds were sustained not unlike the wounds on his legs. He hardly indulged in sustenance, and thus had the physique of a thin man, yet not drastic to the point of anorexic. It was not as though food was needed for him, anyway—the dead required no such thing. Being the sole summoner to emerge from the Shadow Isles, he refused to share the details of his past, from the time before his death and revival near the edge of one of the islands. A champion by the name of Yorick Mori had convinced him that he could find purpose in the League of Legends, and heed his advice he did. He could clearly recall the moment he entered the League as a summoner…
Silence was observed as a young man entered the room, clad in a dark black cape resembling that of Vladimir's, as well as a black and red tunic & pants of the same color to match. His whole body was a decent shade of tan, although what shocked the onlookers within the room was his facial expression—it was one of masterfully concealed pain and suffering, making it so that only those highly in tune with emotions could sense those intense feelings. His eyes glowed a mixture of yellow and black, occasionally swirling together at times and then separating.
An undead lich mage clad in all black approached the man first. "Welcome…to the League of Legends, summoner. I am Karthus, the Deathsinger." He extended a decayed hand to him. "From which area of Valoran have you arrived from?"
The summoner shook the hand lightly, before replying, "I…I come from the Shadow Isles, at the request of champion Yorick Mori." Numerous gasps were audible throughout the room. He could see a girl with blue skin and a single horn on her head look at him, give him a sad smile, and then turn away an instant later. Jm was shocked, to say the least, to see Soraka here, but he paid it no mind. He continued, "…I realize that I am the sole summoner to originate from the Shadow Isles. I lacked a purpose, and so I was convinced by the Gravedigger to find my place here."
The room remained silent for minutes. A soothing female voice then spoke in his head, "Does that mean you are…dead?" He turned his head in a full circle, attempting to find the source of the voice, before settling his gaze on a woman with blue hair that held an etwahl close to her chest. "You are Sona, Maven of the Strings, am I not wrong?" he asked, receiving a nod and a small smile in reply. "I see…yes. I am not of the living world anymore, I am dead. Yet for whatever reason, blood still flows within me, although tainted by the dark magic that holds my body together."
"DIE, creature of the dark!" a voice exclaimed before firing three crossbow bolts at him. The summoner made no attempt to resist, allowing the bolts to dig deeply into his left leg, right shoulder, and his torso. He saw Sona and Karthus along with a man wielding a bloodstained axe tackle his assailant to the ground, restraining what looked to be Shauna Vayne, the Night Hunter. Those who were not watching the three restrain Vayne however were shocked as the summoner simply allowed the bolts to burn his skin, creating holes where the impacts were before dislodging them from his body. His eyes burned—not with rage, not with pain, not with shock, but simply with pure sadness and darkness. Jm closed his eyes, knowing once more that he was not wanted, and used Flash to teleport him to the other side of the room. He took two steps towards the door that lead to the summoners' houses before he fell to one knee, the silver eating away at his body, causing him to cough up black blood.
Soraka rushed over to Jm, deeply concerned over his condition. She held up her staff to the air and chanted a healing spell, green radiance sealing his wounds and infusing him with energy. "Are you alright?" she asked, worry laced throughout her voice. He slowly shook his head in reply, the pain forcing him to fail to recognize her. "I…I…I'll be fine…" Jm stood up once again to limp over to the door, faltering again only to be held this time by the Starchild. He violently convulsed for several seconds, before removing himself from her grip and proceeding to lethargically hobble to his new home. When he finally arrived after fifteen minutes in the frigid cold, he fell unconscious onto the ground of the living room, knowing that his energy was expended to its limit. Jm allowed his mind to succumb to his wounds, drifting back into the darkness…
The undead summoner awoke to find that the burning sensation of silver had subsided from his body. He looked around, figuring out that he was in his new bedroom. Jm felt a hand on his right, turning his head to see Soraka kneeling by his side with a look of happiness on her face. She saw that he had awoken and proceeded to embrace him tightly, a single tear flowing down her face. "Jm…I never thought I'd see you again…"
He returned the embrace, allowing her to feel his catatonic heart grow soft at her touch. "Soraka…" he whispered, his tone laden with joy at the sight of her. "…I said that I was looking for a purpose to 'living', hence why I joined the League…but I had another purpose. I wanted to find you, and be able to tell you one thing…" The Starchild gazed into his yellow-black irises, her own heart melting at the sight of him smiling. "Y-yes?" she stammered, confused as to what he could possibly say. Soraka still felt the twinge of regret at what she had done to him two years ago.
"Soraka, I…I forgive you. I forgive you for what you did to me. I looked for you day and night ever since I woke up on the shore of the Shadow Isles. When Yorick had told me of the League, he had also informed me of your presence there, and so I traversed the accursed river and made my way to the Institute to see you, so that I could tell you that I forgive you. Please, don't be sad..." That was enough to send Soraka over the edge, causing her to bury her face in her chest while crying profusely. Her sobs were still loud, despite being muffled by his garments. "J-Jm…" That was all she said before continuing her crying and sniffling, happy to have the one that she loved back, even though she was unsure if he had the same feelings for her.
"Jm?" A serene voice called from the door to his home, once again snapping the summoner out of his self-induced trance. He quickly donned his cape and tunic, cleaning the wounds that stopped bleeding, and opened the door to see Soraka at his doorstep. "High Summoner Axia asked me to find you, you only have fifteen minutes before your match starts. Are you okay?" she asked, worried whenever he lost track of all time. He dismissed her concerns with a shake of his head and a genuine smile.
"Yes, I'm fine Soraka. I'll be making my way to the summoning platform now, I'm sorry for worrying you. Do you want to go with me?" he offered, causing Soraka to blush slightly, though he could not see it.
"O-Of course, I would love to," she replied, allowing him to close the door and begin walking to the platform to the Summoner's Rift first before following right behind him. As they walked, she felt her left hand being grazed by skin. Soraka looked to see Jm's right hand trying to intertwine with hers, his expression one of calm and another emotion that she could not recognize. She slowly locked her hand with his, while letting her head rest on his shoulder. The Starchild felt her emotions run haywire at his oddly warm touch, having not been this close to him before. As for the summoner from the Shadow Isles, he felt peace within himself, knowing that he was not on the road to twilight anymore. He didn't know what lay ahead of him, but he had solace in the fact that Soraka would be with him every step of the way. That, alone, was more than good enough for him.
This may not make sense now, but I have my ways of making a plot come together. Or make it fall apart miserably, depending on your point of view. Now then, with this I am a bit late with Chapter 3 of Bloodstained Love, although do expect within three days—I'm not about to let laziness and depression get the best of me again. :)
-JoxhnXXIII, the Fallen Sageblade