Hello everyone! This is the first story I'm deciding to actually publish on here, though certainly not the first story I've ever written. I do hope you enjoy it!

Also, just to mention: I am going by the idea that the champions have not met one another, unless they are from the same cities. Figure as if the League does not exist just yet, just to make things easier for the course of this story.

This will be a male/male pairing story featuring Malzahar and Talon, so if that does not interest you, please turn back. No sense reading something you don't like! Though I will place a word of warning when anything NSFW happens, so those that wish can skip by those parts.

Chapter I.

It was late. The full moon had already risen high into the dark navy sky, cascading the sandy dunes below in a blanket of pure, soft light. Amongst those dunes, guided by that light, a lone man traveled.

He was walking briskly, as fast as his legs could possibly take him across the sand without stumbling. For hours now he had been searching - searching for the target that he had been assigned to assassinate. This job was never easy, that was for certain; though, this time it was particularly difficult.

The night air of the Shurima Desert was cold enough to chill even the strongest of men to their very bones. The occasional breeze didn't help matters, considering it often blew around small streams of sand that whipped the Noxian's face and sometimes left him sputtering to get the sand out of his mouth. It was uncomfortable, if anything, but he had certainly been through worse.

Indeed, Talon Du Couteau, one of the highest sought after assassins of Noxus had been assigned this mission, and from the way Swain made it out to be, it was a mission of utmost importance. Of course, the old General always made things seem far more important than they were. Whether it be because of the whole 'Master Tactician' thing or not, it usually just got on the assassin's nerves.

Talon never was one for being rushed, especially by someone he didn't like too much in the first place.

As another breeze tore through the air, Talon didn't hesitate to pull the brown cloak tighter around himself. Before leaving, he had taken the thick cloak with him, using it as a shield from the sand and the cool winds. It was one he frequently used during his missions in Freljord, and it was certainly made use of here; the way its hood covered the top half of his face was also rather nice, the assassin preferring to conceal his eyes more often than not.

Best to conceal things that can easily show weakness, or so he always thought.

His hawk-like gaze turned forward, gazing across the dunes in search of any sort of lead, or perhaps another figure that was also lingering within the desert. The details of the mission were rather vague, a proper description not even being provided – considering it was scrawled out by none other than Darius himself, Talon hadn't expected much, in all honesty. Only thing he had to go by was that the man he was seeking was mysterious, tall, and wearing a thick cloak that covered his entire body.

'Course, a lot of people in Shurima wore cloaks, so it was rather hard to pinpoint the exact person. Though, none of them were crazy enough to traverse the desert at night, so it certainly made it easier. This person was said to roam the desert on the night of the full moon, as though searching for something in particular.

Talon huffed in annoyance as he almost stumbled and dropped to his knees, managing to regain his balance by stepping forward quickly and pushing himself flat onto his feet. Dark brown orbs showed his annoyance quite clearly underneath the hood that concealed them, his mind focused purely on the mission at hand. Even as a sharp banshee-like wail pierced through the night sky, Talon didn't flinch in the slightest.

Shurima was known for its hauntings, but the assassin wasn't all that afraid of ghosts.

Just then, something caught his attention in the distance, his eyes immediately focusing on a large pyramid that spanned across a large dune. For a moment, a soft blue glow came from what looked to be the entrance, a low growl coming from Talon's throat as he picked up his pace and stepped quickly through the sands. It was something, at least; even if it wasn't his target, he hoped to at least find something, even if that something was as miniscule as a piece of shattered glass glowing in the moonlight.

Except, the assassin certainly wasn't known for his luck.

Upon arriving at the pyramid's face, Talon slowed his step to observe the area. There was nothing abnormal anywhere, even as he sifted through the sand, nothing was turned up. Not even a small piece of glass.

Under his breath, the assassin cursed in anger. His hopes were dashed by the false lead that his eyes had spotted in the distance. Of course, at this moment he was currently passing it off as him just losing his mind from the desert chill; hallucinations were frequent, after all.

In frustration, Talon kicked the sand below his feet, scuffing up a large amount of sand grains into the air in front of him. How... annoying, the assassin thought, expression contorting into one of sheer frustration. There was nothing here at all, just like always.

Eyes were known to be deceiving within the desert.

"You seem to be lost, assassin."

The sudden presence of a new voice caused Talon to whirl around, meeting the gaze of a tall cloaked figure with turquoise eyes. Those eyes... they seemed to glow in the darkness of the night, and as they stared at the assassin, he couldn't help but take a step back. There was an air of malevolence about the man that stood merely feet away from him, and it made his skin crawl - not just because he seemed to appear out of thin air, but because he was tall enough to loom over the Noxian with ease, and his glowing eyes certainly didn't help.

But that wasn't the thing that set the assassin into high alarm.

It was the fact that this man fit the exact description of the man he had been chosen to assassinate.

A deep, royal purple cloak shrouded the tall form's figure, the ends sprawling across the ground beneath him like a waterfall. A lighter purple scarf and hood were present on his shoulders, scarf being thickly wrapped to only barely conceal an equally purple facemask that covered the lower half of his young face. But, the thing that was most peculiar about this man were the softly glowing runes that adorned several areas of his outfit, glowing a bright blue, just like his eyes.

Thoughts began to rush through Talon's head all at once, rushing around like a freight train as he tried to weigh his options. To run and attempt to gain a higher ground while keeping the man in sight... or to take a risk and strike here. Either way, it was going to be risky, his hand clenching tightly onto the armblade that was concealed underneath the thick brown cloak that shrouded him.

"There is no need for violence, Talon," Hearing his name spoken, a small gasp of surprise came from Talon's throat, the man's eyes seeming to narrow as a grin found its way to his lips underneath the mask, "I know exactly why you are here. I, also, regret to inform you, that you will not be completing this mission... at least, not today."

"You... how do you know of my name?!" Talon growled, voice laced with venom as his defensive walls naturally showed themselves. "...Just who are you?!"

"My name is not of importance at this moment." The man simply stated, figure floating closer to the young assassin, who proceeded to back up until his back met with the cool surface of the pyramid's stone exterior, "As for how I know yours, however... Have you not heard of the many seers that inhabit the lands of Shurima? Had you done your research, you would have expected a... select few to know your name, Talon."

Talon's eyes flicked around as his thoughts became quicker. A headache was quickly growing as confusion set in, trying to process why exactly seers of all people would even want to know his name. His responses only caused the 'seer' in front of him to chuckle darkly, raising a hand from his deep purple cloak and placing it on Talon's shoulder.

Dark eyes darted to the gloved hand that gripped his shoulder like an iron clasp, attempting to shrug his shoulder away, but to no avail. This man held onto him tightly, tight enough to make the assassin wince in pain as his muscles were forcefully pressed. What's more, the pressure was enough to keep his arm from moving without sustaining a bit of damage.

"Why should my name be of any importance...?" Talon forced himself to ask, the prophet's eyes staring into his own like a dagger that seemed to stab into his very soul.

"Because you, dear assassin... are a 'key'. A vessel. And you shall be assisting me." His second shoulder was grasped onto, and before the assassin knew it, he was being slowly lifted into the air by this man, "Whether that fact pleases you or not, I do not care. ...A letter has been sent to your residence, stating that you shall not be returning due to... dire circumstances. Thus, no one will be expecting you for a long, long while..."

Talon could almost feel the wicked grin that was plastered all over this man's face. The malevolent aura that assisted him was certainly growing stronger by the moment, his words not at all helping to ease it. The assassin knew now that he should have ran given the chance, rather than choosing to stay and attempt to strike once the male's guard was lowered.

He had been caught out in open field, with no shadows to hide within until the right moment arose.

Now, here he was, being held by this man and dangled high above the sands of Shurima, body completely frozen as if held by an unseen entity. Soon, he even found himself gasping for air as a thick grip latched onto his neck and applied heavy pressure. Shakily, his left hand found home on the prophet's wrist, grasping as tight as he possibly could as if to ease the force that was applying pressure to his neck.

The man simply titled his head, blue orbs seeming to glow brighter as the life force of the assassin seemed to fade along with his breath. As Talon's gaze met with his, his mind began to grow numb as his body began to relax itself and grow weak. Becoming lost within the ocean of blue that was staring at him, a feeling of reassurance flooded his mind.

He wasn't sure if this was some sort of spell being placed upon him by this man, but he certainly didn't seem to care. As he drew in a last, desperate gasp for breath, his hand slid from the prophet's wrist and fell limp at his side, dark eyes slowly closing as his body succumbed to unconsciousness from the lack of oxygen in his lungs. The last thing Talon saw before the world went dark were those blue eyes continuing to stare, their image lingering in his mind even after his eyes closed.

That, and a single, disembodied whisper that made its way to his ears - spoken quietly, and with urgency.

Malzahar.