Pantheon hated his peers.

He hated them for ridiculing his ambition. Ever since he was a young boy, Pantheon loved to eat bread. He could eat a whole loaf of it for breakfast at the swaddling age of 2. His parents had never been prouder to see their young son growing up so well with such a monstrous appetite. He would need it when he became a warrior of Rakkor. They saw the potential within Pantheon. They knew his limits. Unfortunately, Pantheon had other ideas; he wanted to be baker.

It was simple, really. He liked bread. Bakers made bread. Therefore he would be a baker and make all the bread that he could possibly eat... and a few cakes since those were a rarity in Rakkor.

When he lost his parents, he also lost his desire to fight. His parents were vicious warriors, renowned for their success against odds deemed suicidal even by Rakkoran's standards (1 to 10 normally). He only wished to be a baker, one who made bread and cakes, cookies and pastries for his fellow warriors. Pantheon was not a conformist; he had no desire or need to follow his parent's glorious footsteps in the art of war and battle. But those around him had different opinions.

"A baker? Seriously? You've got to be joking, Scrappy." Perseus laughed above Pantheon, foot on his helmeted head. It was his father's and he wore it in remembrance of fonder times. Perseus bent over, his stale breath fogging Pantheon's helmet. Pantheon wrinkled his nose at the stench.

He was sprawled uncomfortably on the dirt alley, hands held down on the small of his back by Perseus' cronies. His mouth had a bit of dirt in it and there was a rather serious scrape on his knees from when Perseus had tripped him. Pantheon was supposed to be on an errand by his foster family to get some bread (his favourite chore) from the nearby bakery. He was the fastest runner of his year and he took pride in that. He could also jump really really high but his foster mother had banned him from doing any without supervision after he crashed head first into the military stables, completely wrecking the place and causing a major disruption of peace as several dozen horses wildly stampeded out of the crash site.

"At least I know what I want to be, unlike some vacuum head like you. Let me guess, you want to be a warrior, massacring hundreds of Noxians and Demacians soildiers with your family's relic weapons for the glory of Rakkor." Pantheon spat back, the metallic taste of blood reaching his tongue. His lip was broken as well. Great.

"So what?" The pressure on his head disappeared, much to Pantheon's relief. That relief was short lived though, as his protected head received an abrupt kick from Perseus' boot. Pantheon's helmet knocked off his head and rolled down to the dirt road. He grimaced at the clanging sound of his helmet bouncing on the ground but showed no more emotion than that, much to Perseus' dismay. "It's a respectable ambition, one that each and every Rakkoran here has, except you. A baker? Your parents would've given you a hefty beating were they alive today. You know what? I'll just do it for them." Perseus cracked his knuckles for further emphasis. His lackeys chuckled behind him.

"Ironically, here I am, like a true Rakkoran, facing such bleak odds against three wannabe street brawlers who surprised me on the street."

Perseus glared darkly at Pantheon before motioning for the bigger of his two followers to grab Pantheon by the neck, lifting him off his feet and pinning him against the marble wall. Pantheon choked, finding it hard to breathe. He struggled as best as he could but he was already injured and he had not learned any combat since formal training only started next month. He also did not include himself in the regular roughhousing between the boys in the area, opting instead to learn reading with his foster sister, Leona or idling around the local bakery.

A barrage of punches came soon after, mostly aimed at his torso and head. Rakkoran's were tough people. They could take a lot more beating than a normal person would from generations upon generations of a cunning attempt at evolution through selective breeding but that did not mean the pain was any less dampened. Pantheon cried out in pain, shutting his eyes in a futile attempt to block the pain.

Shit, this hurts.

It was almost four in the afternoon, judging by the sun's descent. The day was blessed with sparse clouds, a rare sight for the mountainous people of Rakkor. None were any the wiser on the bullying occurring in a small alleyway behind an empty shophouse.

Perseus' sick pleasure at roughing up Pantheon was interrupted as an unexpected blow to his unprotected head knocked him to the wall beside Pantheon. Perseus' forehead collided painfully with the wall, causing an audible thump to rebound in an echo throughout the alley."Ouch!" He shouted indignantly, hands on his head in pain."Who the-oof" His sentence was left unfinished as his chest was palm-punched, expelling all the air from his lungs. He stumbled back to the wall for support, dazed and unable to fix his vision clearly on the figure in front of him.

"It's Leona!" His crony exclaimed, backing away. The thing about underlings is, they abandon any form of bravery of their own once their leader goes down. The slimy fellow took only two seconds to clear the alley as Leona pulled away the one keeping Pantheon off the ground. Pantheon was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, his head bleeding from the earlier cut caused from his helmet when Perseus had kicked him. The oaf who had held him up was made short work of by the brown haired girl. She boxed him in the ears, disrupting his sense of balance and sent him toppling to the ground with a leg sweep. Allowing herself a small smile, the tall teen turned on her heels to face the reason of her coming.

"Pantheon, mother was worried about you." Leona ran to Pantheon's side, her battle mode vanishing to be replaced by a look of concern. She held his head in her hands, checking the multiple wounds on it. The most worrisome one was a rather deep cut just above his left eye. "Your helmet is ill fitted for you. It rattles too much when hit." She admonished, wiping away some of the blood still leaking out of the wound. Pantheon pursed his lips and looked away.

"I had it under wraps." He mumbled, trying to save face. Leona shook her head at his stubbornness. She tore off a bit of her chiton at the hem of her skirt to use at a makeshift bandage for Pantheon. If only he had paid attention when father was teaching us to fight.

A sudden hard tug at her hair made Leona cry out in surprise as she fell onto her back from the momentum, dropping the strip of white cloth and banging the back of her head roughly on the ground. Pantheon scrambled to his feet in response to the threat ahead.

"I'm still here you know." Perseus said, planting a heavy foot on Leona's stomach . Pantheon balled his fists and raised them in preparation of the impending fight. Perseus quirked an eyebrow at the action, finding it amusing. He dug his heel into Leona's side, causing her to groan "Oh? Scrappy found his balls now? Come to save your girlfriend?" He taunted.

"Let her go."

"No."

Pantheon needed no more incentive, thrusting out an arm to Perseus' head. Perseus was ready for it and grabbed his arm by the wrist and elbow, putting enough strength to break it. Pantheon screamed as he heard his arm break at the elbow. The blinding pain burned his senses, clouding his judgement and overtaking his being. He had never suffered such a severe injury before, the most having being a burnt hand from accidentally touching the hot oven at the bakery. Pantheon did not even feel Perseus slamming him into the wall again, pulling at the useless arm, forcing Pantheon to cry out in pain. "Missing out on all those daily boy-fights doesn't seem like a good idea now does it?" Perseus whispered into Pantheon's ear. Pantheon barely heard him over the screaming protest of his brain, the pain sourcing from his elbow.

Perseus then hooked a foot to Pantheon's own and tripped him backwards. Pantheon stumbled a few steps in futile attempt to not fall before succumbing to the forces of gravity. He curled up in a foetal state, cradling his throbbing arm.

Leona had yet to fully recover from her beating and only managed to pull herself up in a sitting position. She rubbed her stomach which was still hurting from Perseus' boot. Perseus noticed her recovery and strode over to her, a wide grin plastered to his face.

"They say you're the best woman fighter to enlist for the Kor next month. Strong," Perseus grabbed her by the hair again. Leona groaned in protest as he lifted her a few inches. "Fast," He raised his open hand. "Agile". The alley echoed with the remnants of the stinging slap. Leona glared at him, eyes tearing up from the slap and spat in his face. "Feisty as well." Perseus smirked, licking his lips pervertedly. He turned his head to Pantheon who was still on the ground, though no longer in that foetal position. "Personally, I think she's nothing more than a child maker." Perseus dragged Leona by the roots of her hair towards Pantheon. "What do you think, Scrappy?"

Perseus loomed over the injured Pantheon, casting a long shadow over him. "Cat got your tongue?" He teased, laughing. Leona could have tripped him, dug her fist into his gut but she did not. She looked at Pantheon, poor, pitiful Pantheon lying on the ground cradling his broken arm.

What's the point? He doesn't even fight for himself. Why should I fight his battles?

Pantheon's eyes were closed which made it all the more unnatural when he spoke with such evenness in his voice despite his current predicament. "Personally," He started. Perseus stopped laughing. "It doesn't matter what I think." Perseus laughed even harder at that statement.

Unbelieveable. The bastard's degraded himself that far.

"You're right. You're just Scrappy. Nothing more than horse shit. Whatever you think doesn't matter at all." He laughed even harder, to the point that he was wheezing.

"It doesn't matter what you think either, nor any one else for that matter." Pantheon continued. Perseus continued to laugh, although it died quickly. "She doesn't need confirmation from anyone to define herself. She defines herself. She is who she believes she is."

What? Leona's head rose and her chest swelled as his words. She had always been an oddity just like Pantheon, just not as shocking as his was.

"And what would that be?" Perseus sneered.

"A protector." Leona butted in, sending a punch to Perseus' kidneys. Perseus did not even budge or gave away any indication that he felt that punch as he turned around and grabbed Leona by the throat. He lifted her up in the air, choking her.

"Well," He said ominously. "You're doing a piss poor job at it."

"That's where I come in." Pantheon replied from below.

"Wha-" Perseus felt his legs get swept off the ground. Pantheon had done a double sweep with his legs, pivoting around his pelvic girdle for maximum force with a large semi circle swing. Perseus shook the ground with his momentum when he hit it. Before he could regain his bearings, he felt a crushing blow from Pantheon's heel to his Adam's apple. He didn't remember much after that.

Leona got to her feet, dusting off the sand from her white chiton. That boy sure knows how to talk under pressure. She beamed at the memory. I am who I believe I am eh?

"Leona, a little help here?" Pantheon's deep voice broke her away from her thoughts.

"Huh?" She automatically replied.

Pantheon was sitting up, left arm hanging limply at his side. He was trying to get up but all the injuries he had sustained had taken its toll on his body. Blood still leaked out of the head wound, forcing him to close his left eye as it streamed over his eyelid. His face was pale and worn from the day's troubles but he still managed a weak smile at Leona as she pulled him up to his feet. She assisted him for a few steps before he gently shrugged off her help. He walked slowly, swaying like a wild flower in a snowy blizzard. Leona kept a two step distance behind him, ready to catch him if he collapsed.

It took monumental effort on his part to even reach the end of the alley where his father's helmet lay. Sunlight glinted off its worn metal surface. A few streaks of blood stained the otherwise completely silvery grey headgear. The helmet taunted Pantheon, provoking nostalgic memories of his father telling him the story behind the various weapons and armours their family owned and of his mother taking him to the temple to pray for health and protection.

Contrary to his earlier display of nonchalance at Perseus's verbal jabs, Pantheon was conscious of his abnormality. He was part of a prominent family in Rakkor, one of old history and decorated with many heroes over the ages. Pantheon was the last of his kin, the scion of an ancient and proud lineage. But here he stood, haggard and beaten by a few street thugs, spitting on his family's good name and more importantly, his father's grave.

The blood of a warrior with the heart of a baker.

Emotions swirled inside Pantheon, threatening to rip apart his soul. He locked his jaw, balled his fist until his knuckles turned white and wept. I'm a disgrace, black sheep of the family. A stain on the golden chiton of glory and honour.

Pantheon fell to his knees, no longer holding back his tears as he put a hand to his face. The helmet in front of him rocked with the light breeze. He slammed the ground with all his might using his unbroken arm, cracking the dirt road and his knuckles. The dull pain throbbing from his hands did nothing to ease the hurt in his heart as demeaning words repeated over and over in his head. He raised his head to the heavens, tears running down his cheeks. The sun was setting by then. Streaks of red and orange reached out from far beyond the horizon towards the city. Such a scenic and tranquil view contrasted sharply when compared to the inner turmoil that Pantheon was facing.

"Why!" He screamed. "WHY!" He screamed and screamed, until his voice was hoarse and yet, he continued screaming. His screams eventually merged into sobs as his shoulders slumped. The grey, century old helmet, worn by his ancestor in the first Rune War gazed back at him without a word. "I failed you." Pantheon whispered.

He let his head touch the ground, prostrating just centimetres away from his family heirloom. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself but to no avail. His heart was beating erratically, his whole body sweating profusely. He could barely take in his breath because his throat was constricting and relaxing with intense irregularity.

A pair of warm hands cupped his cheeks, much to his bewilderment. Pantheon opened his eyes as the hands lifted his head up to face the hand's owner.

Leona...

Her caramel eyes looked at him in pure compassion and understanding, dried tears marring her beautiful features. She wept with me? Pantheon tried to speak, but it felt as if he had the entirety of Mount Targon lodged in his throat. Leona let go of his head, hands disappearing for a moment before they reappeared with something glinting silver in between.

My helmet.

Leona gently put it over his head without a word of protest from its owner even though he had wanted to crush it between his hands only moments ago. She had him spellbound, captivated by her grace and delicate demeanour as she calmed the raging tempest within him. Once the helmet was secure, Leona put her hands on his shoulders, drawing him close for a tight embrace.

I can't speak.

"It's okay, Pantheon. Your father loves you. As long as you do what makes you happy, he's happy. Your whole family would be." Leona whispered softly into his ear. He had calmed down now and struggled to form a coherent reply.

"H-How would you know?" Pantheon muttered, finally finding his voice.

"I know because they loved you," Pantheon's shoulders stiffened. "and we accept all that is of those that we love, no?"

"Bu-" Leona silenced his words with her finger to his lips. She pulled away, not breaking the embrace but creating enough distance so that she could stare into his eyes instead, underlining the importance of her next words.

"In any case," Leona started, "even if nobody would want you to be a baker, you can always be mine. You'll always be my baker."She finished, smiling widely with a tinge of pink colouring her cheeks.

And for the second time that day, Pantheon was rendered speechless by his childhood friend.