This is a barren land; poverty, sickness and oppression defined the area in ways no other words could. No one was promised the next meal, much less a long or happy life. Not far from this were places that seem like paradise, but the felicity of those tall buildings had never spread this far. Orphans were to fend for themselves. The old were scarce, and kindness for them were even scarcer. This was like a concentration camp, except this place was the actual home of its poor inhabitants.

This was the Noxian Ghettos.

This was also where the boy started his life.

The boy was one of the orphans in the ghetto. His life began without the kindness of others around him, and even if they tried, they could not help him much; he had been fending for himself since he could run. Keeping himself alive, getting food for himself, finding a shelter big enough to be alone in. To continue living, to not faint forever, motivated him, compelling him to do whatever it took.

But today, this boy, no more then nine, alone, didn't seem to be enough. As he was being chased by the fat butcher wielding a rusted knife, the young boy suddenly wished someone will watch his back. Maybe if he had a diversion while he looted stores, then he wouldn't be busted and chased around the ghetto. Holding his prize, some meat and a small amount of coins, the winded boy rushed along the streets in search of somewhere to hide. A cover he could duck under and disappear the way he always did, or a crossroad to lose the butcher.

The boy got what he wished for. Not far ahead is a dark alleyway, the perfect place to hide in the shadows and throw off hostile followers. With renewed strength and hope, the boy sprinted for the alley, with the butcher hot on his heels.

"Gumme buck muh money," the butcher yelled, "Muybe I'll let you go alive!"

Without hesitation, the boy rushed into the alley. Instead of running toward the dead end, he made a sharp turn as soon as he entered the alley, and stood with his back to the wall. The boy seemed to know magic, as the shadows falling on him almost blended him completely with his surroundings. If a person had not been looking when he was visible, he had no chance of finding him.

Soon, the butcher was in the alley as well. He grumbled and growled, cursing under his breath, but his eyes couldn't locate the stealthy child. Turning in circles, he yelled.

"I SEE YOU!" As he spoke, he swung his cleaver blindly, creating sparks against the wall opposite to the boy. The boy remained still and silent, waiting for the departure of this terrible person. His breath seemed to stop as he stood with the patience far beyond his age. The butcher, though, shouted immaturely and angrily. After throwing quite a fit, the butcher left. The boy sighed and stepped out of his shadow.

Suddenly, the boy felt a searing pain on the back of his head. When his vision cleared again, he realized that he's been grabbed by his hair and almost lifted off the ground by the butcher.

"Kid," the butcher said, "the place was a dead end, you really think I'd just leave like that?"

The butcher positioned his rusty knife under the boy's neck. He grinned with evil glee, his unclean eyes shown with the type of emotion that signified Noxus-a thirst for blood. Even as the lowest level in the nation, citizens are killers. The boy kicked and fought even though it was a lost cause- his need for food and a strange pride to not admit that he failed still pushed him to try everything he had up his sleeves.

A pebble sailed through the air and smashed the butcher on the back of his head. He howled in pain and dropped the boy. The boy immediately sprang to his feet and ran-toward the other boy who threw the pebble. Not much was said.

"I'm Kayvn," the other boy said. "This way!"

"Thanks,"

Together and silent, the boys ran toward another dark alley among the ghetto. As they hit the dead end, Kayvn pulled up a wooden plank on the floor, revealing a small tunnel that would barely fit a slender adult. Kayvn gestured for the boy to jump in, and the boy did so reluctantly. Kayvn went down after the boy, pulling back the wooden plank to block the entrance. Moments later, the butcher barreled in, only to behold nothing. Again he waited, but to no avail. He made more angry noises, but he never tried to look around and see where the boys could go in a dead end.

Meanwhile, in the sewers of Noxian Ghetto.

"Hey," Kayvn said as he threw himself onto a makeshift bed. He winced on the impact, but smiled again as he spoke. "How are you?"

The boy said nothing. He only looked at Kayvn with a strange expression, like he was thinking did the person who saved my life just say such a dumb thing?

"Well," Kayvn continued awkwardly, "nice to meet you too."

"Who are you?" The boy asked.

"I told you," Kayvn said, "I'm Kayvn!"

"No, why do you live in the sewers?" The boy replied.

"I dunno, why do you live on the streets?"

The boy was quiet again.

"So, you still have your foods?" Kayvn asked.

"Yes." The boy said. He reached for his bag, and handed Kayvn a share of food.

"Thanks," Kayvn said, "hey, you haven't told me your name yet!"

"Don't have one." The boy simply replied.

Kayvn became pensive. He held his chin in a thoughtful manner, faking a maturity that didn't belong to him. Finally, he realized that being another orphan in the Noxus slums meant that he couldn't even read and write, much less name another boy his age.

"We'll come up with something for you," Kayvn said at last. "let's eat for now."

Together, the boys ate. Kayvn would spontaneously say something, but it did not take long for him to realize that the other boy had limited vocabulary, and a even more limited love for speaking. They were rather silent after that discovery.

Although communication was a failure, a bond begun to form-trust, companionship, things neither boy had ever experienced.