Hey guys! First story so go easy, all constructive criticism is appreciated! I wrote this story because there have been a few Yasuo fanatics, but I don't feel he's been done justice just yet. I do not own any of the characters, Riot does. Fair warning there could be a few spelling mistakes T_T but wuteva. Hope you enjoy!
Just edited this SHEITT so it's longer. And easier to read. So there.
The world was just waking, the suns tendrils creeping over the tree tops. A lone figure padded silently towards a massive stone Institute. He moved without a sound, for he wore no formal shoes. A long katana was tied loosely to his left side, its intricate pommel faintly shining in the small amount of light present. Massive stone pillars held up a triangular roof leading into the main lobby. He walked so quietly, the half-asleep teller didn't notice him until he cleared his throat.
"Oh - Shit! I didn't see…or hear you…" she stammered. "Ah! Where are my manners. Welcome to the Institute of War. What might your business be here traveler? Come to enroll as a summoner?"
"No." he stated dully, while producing a gold stamped letter from his pocket.
"Oh! Yes I heard you were coming here… you're about… 3 hours early though…" her voice trailed off again.
"I can wait." He was used to waiting. It had become second nature now.
"Alright then. There are benches out in the courtyard for your use, or tables in the lobby if you prefer."
"I'll be outside." He called behind his back as he left.
He wandered through the courtyard, finding a bench facing the sunrise, sat, and pulled a small wood block with a carving knife lodged in its flank. He removed this and began to whittle. He never knew what he was whittling until he finished. As he sat, for two and a half hours, the shaving pile in his lap slowly grew. He stopped to admire his handy work. It was a small figurine of a samurai, devoid of a helmet, and face. He smiled sadly at the carving, and scratched his name into the bottom.
Yasuo.
He gingerly took the figurine in his hand, stood, tossed it into the air, and in one swift movement, drew his sword and smacked the carving with its broadside. A powerful gust of wind took it dozens of times farther than the hit would have originally sent it. If you love something, let it go. He glanced at his sword. He didn't love it. That's why he kept it. He strode back to the Institute. Now, a large Minotaur stood by its open doors.
Somewhere in the forest…
Sitting on a stump and meditating, a silver haired girl was oblivious to the object flying precariously speeding towards her. Only when it struck her in the head did she realize its presence.
"Fuck! Ow… the fuck was that?" she called to no one. She picked up the figurine.
"The fuck is this? The fuck is a Yasuo?" she yelled at the forest. No reply. She scowled and placed the carving on her stump. She would solve that mystery after breakfast. She brushed herself off, rubbed her head and jogged back 2 miles to the Institute.
Yasuo strode past the Minotaur.
"How we doin." Came a gruff gravelly voice. Yasuo responded in kind with a nod.
He padded his way back to the teller's desk.
"You're still early, but the High Counselors should be able to see you now. ALISTAR!" the minotaur sauntered over.
"Yes Maggie?"
"Take him to the High Counselors for the Trials." She called. But Alistair was already leading Yasuo deeper into the Institute.
They came to two huge double doors, splattered in delicate carvings of the first Rune War. The summoners first failure. The whole reason the League of Legends, and the Institute was created.
"This is your stop friend. And remember, it's all an illusion. Don't worry too much." Before yasuo could ask what he meant, the Minotaur was 30 feet away from him. He sighed, and braced himself to the door, preparing to push with all his might. Much to his surprise, they slid open silently and were easy to push.
He shifted his spiked shoulder pad nervously. No turning back now. He thought. He strode to the center of the room. Runes in a circle illuminated the platform he was standing on. Three massively high chairs rose almost up to the ceiling. What was most peculiar were the people atop these, whose robes flowed almost to the ground. Recognizing the chain of command, Yasuo bowed deeply.
"Rise Samurai Yasuo, and tell your story." The voice was deep and commanding, and seemed to come from everywhere.
A child wandered through the forest, badly burned, and tailed closely by his little brother.
"C'mon Yasuo, we're almost there." Called the boy ahead.
"I'm tired Yone, where's mom and dad?" The boy known as Yasuo whined.
Yone chocked up. Although he was only 9, and 4 years older than Yasuo, he knew what happened. Noxus, the Black Country, had attacked their village on the south side of the island known as Ionia. They burned the whole place to the ground and salted the fields so nothing could grow, and set up a camp for strategic reasons Yone was oblivious to.
"Mom and dad are fine. We should see them at the temple we're going to." Came the weary lie.
"Promise?" asked Yasuo.
Yone fought tears. "P—promise."
"Ok… do you still have food?" It was relieving how quickly Yasuo lost interest in certain matters.
Yone handed him the last scrap of bread. They treaded up a lazily sloping hill. Yone stopped at the top. Just a mile in front of them stood a massive temple, with two massive marble dragons sitting by the open halls. Yone couldn't hold himself back. He broke into a run, despite being devoid of three days of sleep. He ran for about ten minutes before he realized Yasuo was keeping up with him effortlessly, and a gust of wind pushed at their backs. His younger brother began to run faster and faster until he seemed to not be touching the ground.
"Oh my Gods Yasuo, look at your feet!" Yone called at his brother, struggling to keep up.
Yasuo slid to a stop. He looked at his feet, hovering an inch above the grass. "Wow, coooool!" he called, grabbing his ankle, and staring at his heel. The wind died soon after, and he slumped to the ground. Yasuo's intrest wavered, and he wandered into the hall. Men with swords lined the walls, but made no move to stop them. At the end of the hall was a split set of stairs leading to a stone training grounds. Yone took Yasuo by the hand and lead him through the tangle of equipment and people. An Elder was teaching a group of younglings about patience.
"Ok Yasuo, don't speak while he's talking. Just listen. Got it?" Yone whispered the command. Yasuo responded by vigorously nodding his head.
The lecture went on, and Yone soaked every word of it in. Yasuo, on the other hand, was engrossed by the tangle of bodies crossing training blades. The lecture tailed on for a few more minutes, and then ended, with the elder dismissing them with a smile. All the kids rose, and Yone nudged Yasuo to rise too. The boys proceeded to bow, followed awkwardly by the brothers. The kids rose and dispersed. Yone bee-lined for the elder, and explained how he got here.
"I—We—would like to train to be samurai to protect our country from the invaders." The Elder nodded slowly, digesting the information slowly.
"Where's your brother?" he finally asked, with questioning eyes.
"He's right here—Huh? Yasuo!? Yasuo where are you!?" he called as he spun 180 degrees. Yone spotted him, holding a sword. Yone watched a terrifyingly awesome scene unfold.
Yasuo was so happy. He charged one of the dummies with a war shriek, and impaled it straight through. He couldn't remove the sword. He frowned and tried again. It wouldn't budge. A light wind rolled through an open window. Yasuo was too focused on the wind to notice… until the wind whipped rapidly and flung the sword into his hand. Everyone looked on in wonder. The Elder heasitantly strode to him.
"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked care laced in his voice.
"I… didn't. It just happened…" was Yasuo's clearly terrified voice squeaked.
"Well, that was amazing. Want me to teach you how to use that? Your brother can too!" exclaimed the Elder, coaxing Yasuo to comply.
"Oh…Okay…I guess…" he mustered. Yone audibly sighed behind the Elder. They had been accepted, through sheer accident.
"Good. Training starts today. Let me show you around…"
And so began The Brothers training. It progressed for years, Yasuo always a half step ahead of Yone. Yone didn't mind, for he had exponentially more control.
But it wouldn't last.
13 years later after their admittance, Noxus struck, with hellbound fury, claiming Manifest Destiny over Ionia. They swept through the south west with ease, and began to march on the temple. On December 9th, 19 CLE, they stood at the doorway of the temple.
"Come out and face us!" Screamed the Commanding Officer. The Elder hobbled out.
"What could an honorable man such as yourself, require from such a feeble man such as myself?" He asked coyly.
"All of your valuables, and any scrolls or books you have."
"Alright. We have but one valuable to give." He beckoned inside, and a pair of youngling's held the remains of a gold sword. The Officer scowled slapped the Elder with a metal plated hand, drawing blood.
"Enough games. Bring your valuables, or your temple will burn." He threatened.
"We have none. I told you already." Replied the Elder, regaining composure.
The man snarled, and turned back to the legion.
"Prepare for combat! Ready cannons! Pull bows taught! On my mark!" he raised his hand above his head, and paused to turn to the Elder. "I this what you want old man?"
Before the Elder could respond, he swept his hand downwards, and the thunder of artillery sounded.
Inside, the cluster of samurai gasped as the temple shook and groaned as it was battered with shells. Yasuo was pacing in the Elders chambers, when he heard the familiar battle cry of his order. He sighed, and the Elder was hurriedly ushered into the safety of his chamber.
"Yasuo, you are tasked with defending the Elder with your life. But that time won't likely come. We can hold our own." The samurai saluted arrogantly and ran out. He leaned against the window, and stared at the battlefield, already littered with corpses. He watched the battle unfold, and the Noxian forces deplete. But something was cutting down the samurai like they weren't there. The soldier wore a hood and stone shoulder pads, but carried a sword the size of their person. They whipped it around as if it weighed nothing.
Yasuo was furious. He should be down there. Not here playing babysitter. He spotted Yone, slicing through his foes with ease. Yasuo smiled. Yone can hold his own. At least one of the Brothers are down there. Yasuo thought, as he admired the flow of Yone's blade. Seconds passed. "Elder, I will be back soon. I need to be down there." He proclaimed.
"I am in no position to stop you Yasuo. But I do not condone these actions. If you aren't back soon, you will suffer." The Elder replied tiredly.
And with that, Yasuo strode down the stairs into the hall. He broke into a sprint the moment he saw daylight. He became a flurry of steel and wind. Nothing could stop him, nor would he let anything. He soon found himself shoulder to shoulder with Yone, in the sights of a semicircle of Noxians.
"Why aren't you protecting the Elder?" Yone's voice mocked.
"It's too exciting. I needed some peace and quiet." He replied sarcastically. They both laughed and charged headlong into battle. Yasuo lost track of time, but he had only seemed to have been about an hour on the field. I should get back to the Elder soon. He thought. A battle cry tore him violently from his thought. He turned just barely to block a massive stone sword inscribed with runes. The wielder, stared back with blood red eyes under their hood. Wait…that's a gir- He couldn't finish the thought for the blade came down again. And again. And again. She was trying to break his sword. On the fourth blow, he slid his sword to a diagonal, scraping her blade off of him and lodging it into the soil. He swiped at her head, but she rolled leaving her sword behind. Yasuo seemed to have won.
"Riven!" a Noxian voice called behind Yasuo. He had seconds to duck until the blade was flung through the air where his head was moments before. The girl looked conflicted. She turned on heel and ran. He didn't chase. Soon, a ring of a dozen Soldiers surrounded him, keeping him in place. He smirked, readied his footing and spun in a circle, slicing all of their throats, life pouring from their necks along with the blood. He sprinted back to the temple, but had to stop and fight the reaming soldiers in the temple. A horn blew in the fields. A retreat horn. The samurai had succeeded. A cry rang out into the crisp afternoon air, and the all celebrated a little. Hugs were shared for the living; tears were shed for the dead. Yasuo was overjoyed to see a blood-spattered Yone stride through the door. They both ran up the stairs to celebrate with the Elder.
Yasuo knelt in front of the corpse, waiting for his fate.
"Yasuo. You are hereby accused of the death of the Elder, by leaving your post to protect him. Do you accept this, even though the penalty is death?" that was a statement, more than a question.
"Yes." Yasuo replied through clenched teeth.
"You are also here by convicted of murdering the Elder, using the same wind technique he taught you."
"Wait, what? I didn't kill the Elder with my own blade! I was on the battlefield!" Yasuo yelled lifting his head.
"There is no evidence to prove you didn't kill him before you left. Do you accept these charges?"
The samurai asked again.
"No." it was a whisper.
"What?"
"I said I don't accept those charges."
"Then do you, Yasuo, give up a life of honor for the selfishness of your own life?"
No, "Yes, yes I do." And with that, Yasuo bolted towards the window, using the wind to shatter it out wards.