A/N: This chapter will probably be the dullest one in this entire story. Trust me when I say I cut a lot of boring stuff out from the chapter (which is also why it's shorter). Please do stick with it!
Harry Potter sat by the door, squealing in delight as he rode a miniature broomstick around in circles. His mother and father stood aways back, James Potter wearing a smug grin on his face, while Lily Potter eyed the nearby china with a worried eye. It was a typical night for the Potter family, one with plenty of happiness and laughter to go around. It was getting late, and it would soon be time for young Harry to get to bed.
"Five more minutes," Lily called out, unsure if Harry could even understand at this age, but some of the message must have gotten through, as a briefly disappointed look crossed Harry's face.
All of a sudden, James Potter stiffened, and drew his wand, waving it quickly through the air.
"Voldemort," he whispered, and Lily went pale with shock.
"The secret keeper?" she asked, a tear dripping down as she realized Peter had betrayed them.
James grimly shook his head, and the two of them worked on creating wards. It would not do much to stall Voldemort, but the Order had already been notified, and hopefully they would arrive in time. However, Voldemort wandlessly cleaved through the wards as quickly as they came up, and he soon burst through the door, coming face to face with a young child.
Harry smiled gleefully as he looked at the man without a nose, almost falling off of his broom in the process. Voldemort glared, and uttered the killing curse. A flash of green light later, and Harry Potter was dead.
I slipped the cover off the manhole, and descended down into the sewers of Piltover. It had been several weeks since I had last surveyed the tangling mess of pipelines and passageways, and it was possible that the new construction project near this street had resulted in the formation of some new pipes.
The dynamic sewers, running purely on Hextech technology, filtered the waters, joined pipes, and even gave semi-regular status reports. However, it was incapable of tracking its own growth, and so the job had fallen to me after I had presented his near complete map of the sewer systems to the mayor of Piltover.
Venturing through a cramped passageway, I noted down my location on an old map of mine, noting how the dimensions and locations seemed to be the same. That indicated a lack of change in the vicinity, but it wasn't a sure sign. Thus, I had to continue crouch walking down the narrow passageway, seeking for any irregularities or differences.
I held up my Academy workbook, using the markings that I had drawn on the back of it to measure distances and angles. Save for a minor waste pipe that had recently formed, which I had duly noted down, the overall structure was by and large the same. Nothing to worry about.
I felt a measure of disappointment as I realized my trip down here would be quick today. In a sense, this was my escape, the way for me to be free from the constraints of the world, a way for me to just be myself. Outside of the sewers, I was famous, "Piltover's Grandmaster Explorer". Of course, I was also the first to bear the title, more honorary than anything, but it was a great deal more than most fourteen year olds had.
I reluctantly began to head back, shuffling along the cramped passageway once more. Then, in the distance, I heard the distinct sound of muffled voices. Very few dared to traverse the jumbled sewers of Piltover, and fewer had any reason to. I nervously crawled out of the passageway, heading for the source of the sound. It was possible that somebody was lost, and needed my assistance.
The water softly splashed as I stepped into a larger tunnel, heading towards the source of the sounds. The voices grew steadily louder, moving towards me just as I moved towards them. Just before I tried to call out, the words become more distinct, and I heard what was being said.
"Alright... steal the baggage... get out quick," was all I managed to grasp, and I stopped in shock. Sure, there were a few robberies every once in a while, but organized crime was something that had virtually been wiped out in the past few years. All the mobs that remained were the toughest of the tough, able to withstand the police crackdowns and tightening security. The people who were coming my way were sure to be a member of one of these gangs.
Without a means of communication, I ducked into a side passage, and was forced to stoop. Escaping wasn't an option, since the people had inadvertently blocked off my exit, so all I could do was wait. Referencing my maps, I saw that I was currently under the Hextech Jewelry shops. There would be police in this region, but I didn't want to get caught in case a fight broke out.
The voices steadily grew louder, and loud splashes of water echoed through the main path. I shrank back further into the side passage, aware that it grew smaller the further I went, and that it soon wouldn't be able to fit me. The cold water swirled around my boots, eddying and flowing, and I found myself nervously waiting for the robbers to pass so that I could make my escape and notify the authorities.
"The passageway should be around here," a deep voice called out, and I nearly jumped at how close the voice was.
"Got the hexplosives ready?" a more feminine voice asked.
"Right here, we'll wire it up when we get there," the first voice replied.
Then, I saw the robbers briefly block my field of vision. They were both tall and covered from head to toe with dark clothing, a variety of instruments and implements strapped to their bodies. Several dark spheres that I identified as hexsplosives were strapped across the man's chest, and I found myself wishing that I could back away more. Then, they passed by my hiding spot, and I visibly relaxed.
Not two seconds later, they passed back into my field of vision.
"It's right here," the woman called out, gesturing towards my passageway.
They hadn't noticed me yet, but it would only be a matter of time. The man nodded, and as they bent down to enter the passageway, my eyes met theirs. The man and woman advanced, as if they hadn't seen me, and I gulped with fear. There was no way that they hadn't seen me, but it was only a matter of what would happen now that they knew I was here. I gripped my maps tightly in my right hand, knuckles whitening, and the paper began to rip.
"Looks like the prodigal explorer's here, eh," the man deliberately spoke.
The woman affirmed, slowly reaching behind her and pulling out a Hextech Gunblade. Its pale-green core was unlit, but after she spun the barrel several times, it began to let out a low hum, and slowly began to glow. Everyone watched in silence as the gunblade reached its full power capacity, its green light shining so brightly that I had to avert my eyes slightly. Stalling for time in the hopes that the police were somehow on their way, I pointed at the gunblade.
"Are you going to kill me with that?" I asked, voice quavering.
The emotion in the statement was real enough, even if I already knew the answer. Without responding, the woman pointed the gun at me, and pulled the trigger. A bright laser seared through the wall right by my arm, and I leaned the other way, trying in the narrow confines to avoid my inevitable fate.
The woman laughed at my reaction, and I realized that she hadn't even tried to hit me with the laser. They were just toying with me, for now. Perhaps there was hope, if the police somehow got wind of this confrontation.
Chuckling, the man plucked off a few hexplosives from his chest-belt, and strode up to me, attaching a couple of bombs in the passageway. I stood paralyzed in fear as he grinned at me, unsure of what to do. I had always dreamed that I would be a legendary fighter some day, but had settled for exploring when I got beaten up by the neighborhood children, and now I finally knew why my hopes were ill founded. I had absolutely no talent at all, not when it came to combat.
The woman redirected her gunblade at me, and pulled the trigger again. This time, the weapon found its mark, and I felt the top of my right shoulder begin to bleed. She had intentionally missed most of my body, but the pain was enough to make me scream out in agony. The wound burned worse than flame, the stinging sensation repeating itself thousands of times per second.
I instinctively drew into myself, finding a part of myself that had been locked away for twelve or so years, and screamed again. The woman fired again, eyes widening as the air around my began to glow, comparable in brightness to her gunblade, and I felt a searing sensation that told me the bulk of my shoulder blade was gone. I screamed louder, my right arm tenuously connected to the rest of my body.
Then the passageway grew greener as a dark green light flashed from my body, striking the man and the woman down. A subconscious use of magic that I always had, magic that was sealed off from me when I had died. It seemed that the floodgates had been opened, and I let go with all that I had, instantly murdering the two people without a second thought.
I screamed louder when I realized what I had done. Blood on my hands, when I was barely fourteen. Killing, ending life, even if mine was in danger. Was what I did even justifiable? Then my arm exploded in a burst of pain again, and I crumpled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Cold water washed over my body, but it failed to bring clarity to my thoughts.
'I killed, I killed, I killed,' was the thought that repeated itself over and over again in my head. I groaned, trying to shut it off, but it was the reality of the world. All the potential that the people had, the grief and pain that those who cared for the people would feel, everything was my fault. And I didn't even know who they were.
'Fuck, fuck, why, why,' the stream of thoughts continued, unstoppable and raw as the pain that continued to tear through me. At some point, those thoughts become words, and my screams took on a whole new meaning as I hollered out loud, seeking repentance and meaning.
Dimly, I heard the stamping of boots in the distance, and I screamed louder, spitting a string of curses at whatever had reduced me to this state. I was a murderer now, and there was nothing that could change that. Nothing to do but face the music. I don't think I even grasped the full gravity of what I had done, as if I hadn't sunk low enough.
Gasps of worry and confusion resounded as the police finally arrived, surveying the scene for mere seconds before calling for a medical team, quickly. I was traumatized, and didn't respond when a gorgeous looking lady in a purple dress and a tall hat asked me what happened. The police quickly checked over the criminals, making sure that they were dead, but they kept their distance from me. There wasn't a medic on the team, and as far as they knew, I was an insane lunatic who had just killed two people.
At long last, the medics arrived, and they hauled my onto a stretcher, carefully keeping my arm attached to the rest of my body. Someone used healing magic on me, but it seemed to do painfully little as I cried out my sins for the world to hear. I struggled, trying to roll off the stretcher, to repent, to ask for forgiveness from the dead, when I felt a mask clamp down over my head, and the world went dark.
"Ezreal Harry Potter," the mayor spoke, as he looked out the window, back facing me.
I didn't respond, instead choosing to look around the mayor's office. It looked similar to the time he had awarded me with my title, the hextech processors whirring in the corner, while stacks of files lined the walls. Unfinished documents littered his table, and I looked away from them, not wanting to know what they contained. Chances were, a good half of them concerned me.
"You betrayed the trust Piltover handed over to you freely," he continued, sighing. My father and mother were universes away, and there was nobody here to speak for me.
"You killed one man and one woman. In self-defense, undoubtedly, but to kill is to kill. There's no two ways about it," the mayor continued, turning around to sit down on his chair.
I crossed my legs under my chair, feeling the awkward replacement shoulder blade dig into my flesh. Several hours of intensive surgery had still left something to be desired, and chances were that I would never heal completely from the injuries I had sustained.
"Usually, the police would send you directly to the courts, where you would be tried for murder, and then dealt with appropriately," the mayor spoke, "and that is what will happen presently. However, I would like to discuss some options with you, so I pulled you aside."
Surprised, I looked up to eye the mayor. His serious face portrayed a cultivated air of disappointment that I despised. Before I could motion for him to go on, he continued.
"You are a minor, and have served our grand city-state well so far. It is regretful that things transpired as they did. While you would usually expect the capital punishment, which is still a possibility if you don't accept my deal, I offer that if you represent Piltover at the Institute of War, we will do our best to exonerate you," the mayor said, watching me.
"That... that sounds like an awfully good deal, sir," I replied, unsure of what to make of this. It was common knowledge that we didn't have enough Summoners at the Institute, but it never crossed my mind to train to become one. However, with my latent magical abilities that the police had surely discovered, the idea made sense.
"I trust that you will act appropriately, then," the mayor finished, gesturing for me to leave.
I got out of my chair, and left the room, where an escort walked me out of the mayor's building. We crossed the street and boarded a mechanical beetle that began to walk towards a courthouse. The beetle was a common enough model, one that I had once ridden every day to school, but I supposed that regular school days would be behind me, one way or another.
My escort, an anonymous woman of commanding presence, led me into the courthouse. I had met my lawyer some days before, a man well-versed in handling cases related to minors, and I trusted that the mayor would uphold his end of the deal. Shaking my left hand with the lawyer, Mr. Nile, we entered the courtroom together.
The first thing I saw was the massive crowd that was in the courtroom, a group of people so large that it seemed to spill out the building. It seemed that the slaughter of two people by a kid like me didn't happen everyday. There was sure to be people who supported me, and people who wished to see me die today.
The trial proceeded much as was expected, and when I was called upon to testify, I said my piece, memorized, was briefly cross-examined about some details, and then returned to my seat. I couldn't follow everything that went on, given my limited experience in law, but watched as the proceedings ended and the jury left the room.
About an hour later, they returned to give their verdict. It was a unanimous decision to train me as a Summoner to represent Piltover at the Institute of War. The judge nodded, and my fate was sealed. I anxiously gulped, looking at my astounded lawyer who looked completely lost. The crowd burst into noise, descending into a cacophony that prevented me from hearing anything else.
I felt pity for my lawyer, arguing a case that had been decided moments before he had even entered the room. I loathed the corruption of the system that I had just seen, but I had no other choice. It was bow down to the mayor or die, and I appreciated the value of life too much to carelessly throw it away.
Once again, my escort led me away from the courtroom, and onto the beetle. We headed off to the Piltover Summoner's Institute, the Institute of War's official training grounds for Summoners at Piltover. I had only seen the place once or twice before, and was fairly amazed by how mundane the structure looked. It was a series of large, rectangular buildings situated around a green lawn, a simple design that held enough room for a hundred or so students.
There were currently around fifteen, including myself. It wasn't that people didn't want to be Summoners. Getting the job would be a dream come true for many people, but one needed at least some degree of magical ability and a bunch of other traits to test into a Summoner's Institute. I supposed I had somehow qualified when the mayor pulled his strings, and I wasn't about to complain about it.
As my escort and I approached the massive iron front gates, I saw Lyte by the gates, waiting for me. He was a good man, and my only family. He had adopted me when I had came to this world, but was a hermit scientist who worked for the Institute of War near the Howling Abyss. We rarely saw each other nowadays, but I supposed that killing two people and switching schools warranted a visit.
I hopped off the beetle, ignoring my escort's cry, and walked up to Lyte.
"Nephew," he called out, pulling me into a bear hug. I saw several tears glimmer on his face, and I let myself be content in his grasp for a while. When we broke away, I turned back to see my escort impatiently waiting for me. I offered a quick smile, and the three of us headed into the Summoner's Institute.
We passed through the grounds and entered one of the two buildings currently in use, the Teacher's Hall. It was where Summoners in training went during the day for lessons, with the other building being a dormitory. As we entered the large marble building, the escort directed us towards the administrative quarters of the building.
There were three dedicated professors, one member of the administrative staff and four part-time Summoners currently working at the Summoner's Institute. The administrator, Dr. Kree, was the liaison between the Summoner's Institute and the Institute of War, as well as the general manager of the Summoner's Institute. She was a competent woman who was desperately trying to get attendance rates to rise, but Piltover was no exception when it came to a low number of Summoners training.
Really, there wasn't a need for that many Summoners at all. There was about five or six Summoners to every champion in the League, and while a Summoner's job entailed more than just fighting on the Fields of Justice, there was more than enough Summoners, even with the high mortality rate associated with the job.
However, it made for bad public relations when people passed by the grounds and realized that only two of the eight buildings that had been constructed were occupied. All of this rolled through my head as my escort and Lyte filled in paperwork and did the mundane tasks for me. For some reason, people tended to think that I was incapable, despite the fact that I had proven myself several times. Or perhaps, it was possible that they couldn't trust me. I had a reputation now, for better or worse, and I would have to face the consequences of my actions.
Regardless, classes had been cancelled for the day to welcome the new student, and I soon got to meet each of my new professors. Professor Scy taught the theoretical portions related to the League of Legends, including aspects such as battlefield strategy. Professor Turing specialized in teaching the more day-to-day tasks of a Summoner, such as playing the role of an ambassador or special forces in times of need. I exchanged courteous greetings with each professor, getting to briefly know them before moving on to the next.
I met each student as well, but didn't find myself really attached to any of them, or even interested in any of them. All were fairly unremarkable, as far as Summoners tended to go. People that I would forget after months, if not for the fact that I would be living with them for the next three years.
It would a grueling, intense and lonely next three years. Three years confined within the grounds of a school, a beautified prison with a promise of freedom down the road.
A/N: Please review and give feedback, whether positive or negative, whether it be about grammar, pacing, content, the image... whatever. Also, favorite and follow if you like the story! Thanks, Attune.