The Shadow of Love
I am Hecarim. I am the Shadow of War. The thunder of my hooves drive even the bravest of men to gibbering insanity as I approach. My glaive bisects man and rider, beast and monster, I bring death everywhere I go. I am Hecarim, I am the reaper of battlefields.
At least, that is who I was, then, I met her. The only one who could possibly match me, the only one who understood the death that accompanies with war, the only one who could stand up to me, to the personification of death itself, and make me cow.
Hundreds of thundering hooves ripped through the air. Hecarim tore through the Ionian forest, his glaive tearing down any obstacle in his path. Whether it was forestry, animal, drunk men dragging fruit wagons, it mattered not. He could taste it in the air. A battlefield was nearby, no...All of Ionia exuded this aura.
Hecarim charged aimlessly through the forest, his soulless eyes lighting up with azure flames as he grew more and more excited. Every step he took on the ground, memories would spring. Acid killed this man in this spot. A spear impaled this woman's heart, but in her final breath she bit and tore out her killer's throat. Here, children picked up flowers and happily danced away into the sunset. Nothing bad happened.
Hecarim raised a plated eyebrow. He muttered aloud, "Odd."
The undead centaur focused his attention back to the gathering of memories, the excitement behind the war that happened here. Within minutes he started to fast approach the Placidium. The moment his hooves stepped off the road, he reared back and let out a bellow of surprise.
The memories here flooded to him. The soldiers here were butchered mercilessly and with the utmost efficiency. He watched as a sword, though it resembled a butterfly in flight, tore men in half, dismembered dozens of others who tried raising their weapons. He saw the flurry of fists strike at armor, crunching metal and collapsing ribcages. They all belonged to...a little...girl? A young girl, with dead, emerald eyes. Hecarim trotted about the field, watching the young girl decimate and butcher an entire cohort of Noxian soldiers. Another patch of ground showed her fighting a Zaunite wartank, her heaving a vermillion blade at the cockpit and instantly splitting the man's head open. It had passed through the seemingly impenetrable armor of the vehicle without any form of resistance, as though it did not exist.
"Hecarim."
The centaur looked at the source of the voice, lost in the memories of the field about him.
"What in the Hells are you doing here?"
His flame filled eyes seemingly blinked as he focused on who was regarding him. A man and woman stood side by side. They looked fairly similar, the man was slightly taller than the woman, they both had long, black hair, they both had emerald eyes, but while the man wore some green and black clothing, the woman wore crimson armor. The man had a curved blade sheathed while the woman had...that weapon. That sword, it resembled a butterfly.
The man coughed and looked at the woman, "Irie, you sure this is a good idea?"
"He's just a jerk. He's not going to do anything, or else he's deal with me." The woman glared at the centaur. "What are you doing here, in Ionia, destroying my home?"
Irelia. That was the little girl. That is whose soulless eyes shone with bloodlust, who understood the idea of war. No pain, no pleasure, just kill. And kill. And kill. Has she changed? She seemed different on the Fields of Justice.
"Sooo...Should we get going?"
Hecarim tilted his head, his glaive held tightly in hand.
"Give me a minute, Zelos, I need to-"
"Are you important to her?" Hecarim growled at Zelos.
The man raised an eyebrow. "...Yes?"
The glaive impaled his stomach, and Hecarim swung him up into the air.
"Gaaah ha haaa! Freaking...! Why is it always impalement? Whyyy?!"
Hecarim pumped the glaive up and down, making Zelos' body bounce. He stared at Irelia, who seemed to be in some sort of shock.
"What will you do now, Ioni-"
Hecarim did not get a chance to finish his sentence. His own glaive twisted and contorted itself into a 140 degree angle, letting Zelos slide off the blade. This was followed by his weapon attempting to stab at the centaur while the man rolled away, grabbing his stomach. "Why is it always impalement...why?"
Irelia stepped forward, her sword now split apart into four distinct blades, crackling with vermillion energy. Hecarim looked over at her, locking eyes with her. Soulless, emerald eyes stared back at him.
"...Magnificent..."
His legs were sliced out from under him, making him topple like a crippled pony. He ate a mouthful of dirt as his face crashed onto the ground. Hecarim slammed his glaive downwards, the sound of the chilling cavalry howling and racing towards Irelia. On the Fields, everyone was made terrified of impending death. The snort of horses, the bellows of centaurs from a bygone era now raced at Irelia.
Their screams filled the air as blades made of vermillion energy lashed out and decapitated the spirits. She stood her ground.
Hecarim looked up in awe, the woman closed the distance and held her blade in front of his face.
"The only reason you are not dead is because you are a League champion." Irelia's eyes narrowed, her tone commanding but lacking any sense of emotion save for raw, unending hatred. "Pick your *DANG* up and get the *FUNK* out of my country."
Hecarim's legs rematerialized from underneath him as he stood up at his full height, easily towering over the woman. The two glared at one another, she did not relent. She was not scared of him.
"...What is your name?"
"You know it, dumbass. We fight on the Fields."
"No. I want to hear you say your name. Say your name."
Irelia rolled her eyes. "It's Irelia. Now go away, I need to make sure Zelos doesn't bleed to death."
"Irelia..."
"Oh gods damn it, I think I see my kidney! No...no wait, that's just a rock that's stuck in my stab wound."
Hecarim turned around and galloped away, a strange blue tint on his cheeks.
*CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP*
Hecarim peeked around the corner with a box in hand. He wrapped it using the finest Noxian flesh he could find, hoping it would be an apt present for her. He watched as she drank her tea and ate her food with some...goat lady.
'Stupid goat lady, go away.'
"Irelia...I think...is that Hecarim...?"
"Yeap."
"...Why?"
"He hasn't left me alone since he visited Ionia. I don't know why, it's really creepy."
Hecarim stroked the metal plates on his chin. 'She is playing hard to get, like any true woman worth her salt. I remember the art of seduction almost as well as I remember the art of war.' He pumped his fist into the air, glaive in hand as he thought to himself, 'She will whisper my name! Again and again! I am Hecarim! Hecarim! Hecarim! Yes, yes, yes! You can do this! You can do this! You! Can! Do! This!'
Then he saw that man from before approach Irelia's back as quiet as death. Zelos, she called him. What is he doing? Hecarim tightened his grip, what does that man think he's doing, sneaking behind her? Does she not see him?
'Perhaps she trusts him, and he's going to betray her! No, no...that's paranoid. That makes no sen-'
Zelos covered Irelia's eyes with his hands, growling, "Gotcha!"
Irelia let out a soft, playful shriek and patted Zelos' hands, "Who is this monster?"
'Monster? Kill monster?'
"I'm a zombie, and I'mma eat your brains," he laughed.
*GALLOP GALLOP*
Then Zelos found himself suspended in the air, impaled through his side as Hecarim ran him through. "Do not fear, Irelia, I will vanquish this ruffian!"
"AAGHLCHK!" Zelos flailed his arms about as Hecarim bowled customers, waiters, tables, small dogs over. "Whyyy?!"
"Hecarim!" Irelia shouted. "The hell?!"
Hecarim looked back at her, suspending Zelos in the air. "...He admitted that he was going to devour your sacrosanct cranium. This cannot be allowed. Is there a problem?"
"He's my brother you idiot! He's not going to eat my brains!" She threw her hands up and pointed at the centaur, her tone depicting her absolute rage at Hecarim. "Leave him alone already you crazy ass pony!"
Hecarim stared at Zelos who was wiggling at the end of the glaive. "...So you're her brother?"
"Yes! I am! This should hurt so much more than it does! Gah!"
"You're not trying to eat her brains?"
"Not trying to...The hell are you smoking? No!"
Hecarim heaved Zelos off his glaive and stared at Irelia. "...Theoretically, if I offered you the brains of your enemy, would you consider going to first b-"
A swift uppercut cracked Hecarim's jaw, sending him flying into the distant landscape. Irelia watched him become a sparkle in the clouds. She palmed her face and looked over at Zelos, "You okay, Zelly?"
"I think...he has my liver...and he also left this." Zelos pointed at a box wrapped in flesh. "...Yeah, I'm not touching this with a forty foot pole. Soraka, can you drag my crippled ass to the medical ward? Thank you."
Irelia sighed and poked the box with her blade. It unfolded open, and she stared at its contents with a puzzled expression.
As Hecarim sailed through the sky, watching the birds, and Anivia, and Corki, go by, he thought to himself, 'Step one: Kill all enemies. Step two: Teddy bears and poetry. Rinse and repeat until successful, then advance to step three.' He smiled broadly. 'All according to my sexy plan.'
Inside the box, a very, very scared, very traumatized Teemo was tied up and quaking in absolute fear. The skinned, bloodied fur of a bear was messily taped and glued onto him with a card that bore a heart drawn in blood. The card read,
"Let us slaughter the infidels, my Irelia, and love.
As for all the rumors of those stern geriatrics,
Let us cut their hearts out and dance in their entrails
Suns may set and yet rise again, but
Us, with our brief light, can set but once, and then live in eternal undeath.
One never-ending night of continual slaughter must be kept then slept and then kept some more.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred hugs.
Then, another thousand hugs, and a second hundred kisses.
Then, if you feel up for it, yet another thousand, and a hundred of your choice.
When we have counted up many thousands, no, hundreds of thousands
Let us kill everyone who ever counted the numbers, so that no one may know the number,
And those who are somehow still alive die from jealousy when they see
How many kisses and hugs we shared."
Irelia stared at the poem, then at Teemo, who whispered aloud, "He...he recited it...six hundred, and sixty six times...to me...He made me correct the prose..." The Yordle let out a sob, "It's awful...So awful..."
"...Alright then." Irelia put the card back, slowly walked away from the box and took off in a sprint. She was later found trying to scrub her eyes clean with steel wool and hydrochloric acid.
Her name is Irelia.
I am Hecarim, the Shadow of War to all but to her. To her, I am Hecarim, the Shadow of Love.
Also make sure you go check out Viper of Grand's other stuff, it's really good.
