CHAPTER 4: HEAT.
I don't own anything, this is fan made
Alright folks to get a little more in-depth the story I'll explain a few silly things.

The plot was a bit rushed (chapter 3 already, wuuut) but I felt it was necessary, since there wouldn't be anything exciting anyways (wow, this will make YOU even more excited). But I do think that Summoners are a bit useless in-game, for game-mechanics don't work on the Field if you are the character. So I think the Summoners are more like game-watchers that intervene if necessary, that's why it's so hard to portray Mr. Evil Summoner D:

But thanks for the reviews guys, very glad you guys take your time to read the story :D


"Nice match Leona, well... played. But don't worry, we'll see each other soon."

"No, please don't!" A scream escaped the woman's slumber. Her body was soaked in cold sweat, it stung in her eyes, it strengthened the heat she was resonating. Leona had awoken from a nightmarish sight, her pillow thrown of the bed and absent blankets made the small space only emptier.
She got up in a sitting position, her curtains blew open in a gentle manner, she felt the breeze on her skin.
"Don't come back, ever again." She whispered one more time, he could still be listening to her. Tightened fists reached for her sheets, craving for warmth.

The Radiant Dawn couldn't deny it any longer, this wasn't the first time his voice plagued her mind. It'd been a week since that match and the Summoner returned in her assist with the Piltover team. They had a match against Ionia, a strong adversary that was on a killing spree for the past 4 matches and the League deemed Leona worthy to fight alongside Caitlyn, Orianna, Jayce and Vi upon the Fields of Justice.

He didn't speak at all in the first 10 minutes of the match, though his watchful eye scared her even more. She was dominating with the Sheriff against Karma and Varus, but something in her body snapped once again as her Summoner pulled her into a hopeless battle. She constantly returned battered and bruised, the whispering voice didn't allow her to fully heal her wounds, she had to run into turrets with a broken foot and he'd even allow her to fight off the monsters of the jungle without any weapons or shield. The Avatar felt terrible every time she committed these forced crimes, no one was able to stop her or her master.

It seemed like the Summoner himself wasn't around once matches started, as if he was remotely controlling her from an abandoned place, an immense magical power tightening his grip over her. The other Summoners didn't pick up any suspicion. If he was allowed to watch over the game and control it as Leona, he must be an official part of the League. That's what Leona thought too.
Which made her all the more desperate to leave.

At times like this, Leona felt like every day was a struggle. To hold her ground, to keep herself together. She was the Chosen of the Sun, goddammit. Being born into a tribe like the Rakkor, where strength was everything, meant that you had to be strong. A tough battle of survivor of the fittest, an endless cycle on Mt. Targon that took over your whole life. Though it had worked for the tribe; their purifying crusade, their purging of worthless beings, their mission to breed a better warrior. Even though Leona didn't agree with it; a newer, stronger human had evolved in the harsh climate atop of the highest mountain upon Runeterra.
Her tribe thought she was a strong woman, the Solari thought she was a strong woman, she too would give herself the necessary confidence boost at times.
But to lose, to have your strength drained... it was a terrible, helpless feeling.

"So this must be what Pantheon feels at the moment." She suddenly realized, questioning herself when finally hearing his name escape her own mouth. The redhead looked a little bewildered, the dark empty room only adding to her frustration. Though his feelings (if he had them) weren't quite the same as hers, there were times he too could feel desperate, needed the time to blow off steam or revisit his actions. Though it would likely end in him punching someone through a wall.

Leona laughed, remembering a scene from her childhood in which 12-year old Pantheon took on 3 older kids when they'd trashed his miniature baking stall. Though already quite tanned and broad, he was always picked on and restraint by both parents and guardians. She'd hurried towards the fight, and broke up the group, the first thing she did was restrain her mad friend by hitting him on the helmet with a large stick. The sound bounced through his head multiple times, to which he lost his balance and fell in the dirt. The 3 older kids laughed but they couldn't escape Leona's vengeance either. She'd chased them off and returned with dirt in her long, fuzzy locks.
"Why'd you do that? Those big kids are really dangerous!" Leona started her long lecture, standing over the kneeled boy and bathed in rays from the clear sun. But Pantheon huffed: "I ain't just gonna sit there and watch them destroy what's mine. They wanted to fight, I wanted to fight. Simple as that. It doesn't matter who they are, if they're messing with me, they deserve to be kicked into a well!"

She didn't understand his words at the time, it would never be as simple as that. Pantheon was always a possible threat to everyone around him, it seemed like only Leona was save from his wrath. He wouldn't go as far as to kick her in the face while sparring, or break any of her bones.
He did it on purpose, that she knew.

But the redhead didn't sink further into her memories in the cold, she pulled the blankets over her body, letting her head create a new shape in her pillow. She had the whole bed for herself, for the whole week: "Pantheon..."


Heavy footsteps made their way through the dining hall, like a warning for everyone standing in their way. The owner of the large feet wouldn't mind pushing someone out of the way, no matter if they were female, a Voidling or 9 feet tall. And what sounded like a third foot was actually a large spear tapping on the ground, in sync with the man's march. The fearless warrior known as the Artisan of War made his way through the people, which was already an odd sight, set to get himself some dinner.

He set down at a table, slowly letting go of his mighty shield and spear, he was never seen without them and it almost seemed like they'd grown together. The man was eating with his helmet on, which could be seen as rude in many cultures (for instance the Demacian) but not when you're a Rakkor, something he took much pride in.
Though it seemed people were staring at him for another reason than wearing headprotection indoors. His sharp eyes, the only things visible from underneath the cover, looked around the room. Looks like the Noxians and some people from Piltover had set their gaze on the broad male.

Pantheon tried to pay no mind to the other Champion's silent conversations about (probably) him, but it seemed to attract unpleasant people.
"So I've heard that the Rakkor were the best at purifying their people, hmmm?" Vladimir had darted towards the table and sat down with wonder in his eyes, he'd crossed his legs and let his head rest on his clawed hands.
The hoplite man didn't even look up from his dinner and took another bite from his meat, almost breaking its still present bones in half with his teeth.
But the Crimson Reaper had a smile all across his face: "Survival of the fittest, only the strong come out on top." He raised an eyebrow, but it seemed like he had to continue this conversation by himself.
"There must be some wonderful blood running through you..." His crimson gaze didn't even give the normal dinner a tiny glance. "Though I can't say the same for that redheaded woman." He let out a slightly arrogant laugh, like an aristocrat making a joke towards peasants.
"WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT!" The Rakkorian warrior slammed his fist on the table, sucking everyone around them into the conversation.

Vladimir seemed taken aback for just a moment, before returning to his stoic demeanor once more: "Though Noxian troubles do not concern me in the least, there's been some trouble revolving around your little Goddess and it's making everyone pesky, not really my kind of negative vibe." The silver-haired hemomancer let out a troubled moan, letting his sharp left index finger tap alongside his cheek.
"What?" Pantheon replied.
A new figure appeared next to the two men. His prescence took up alot more space than the pale, androgynous Vladimir and though his heroic jaw was mostly stuck in a grin full of pride, it was now twisted in an unhappy frown: "Hate to just 'hammer time' into this conversation but I picked up what the Reaper was saying and I, too, have my questions for you..." Jayce leaned on his hammer and fixed his hair before returning his gaze on the cloaked Pantheon.

"Noxians are giving off some bad energy ever since they lost against Demacia over 'important trade routes' and 'factories' and whatnot. I do believe it's all the Solari woman's fault." It seemed like Vladimir didn't want to bother in this conversation anymore when Jayce appeared, so he took his leave in a pool of blood. Pantheon had taken the time to stand up, facing the Defender of Tomorrow head on: "What is all this nonsense everyone is spewing about Leona, if you got business with her, take it to her!" He poked the slick man on the chest, annoyed by all the people looking at him.
But Jayce replied with a chuckle: "She doesn't show her face anymore, it's been 3 days since the Piltover-Ionia match and we needed those metal supplies and energy generators on our land! But it seemed like the Radiant Dawn wanted to do everything in her power to stop us from winning that match."

Pantheon gritted his teeth, why was he sucked into this?
But it seemed like Leona had gotten herself in trouble with Noxus AND Piltover, so it must be something big, or she was framed... he knew she wouldn't do this.
"Listen, Future Man, if you're starting trouble with Leona, you're starting trouble with the Rakkor and that means you're starting a war with me! And I will not hesitate to execute you right here and right now." He barked while reaching for his weapons.
Jayce readied his hammer and took a few steps back: "You fool, do you wish you make a stand at me? Then you should come with more than just an old wooden stick with a bread knife on it." That last touch of arrogance was enough to make Pantheon crawl out of his own skin, he tightened the grip on his weapons until they turned white.
"I will cut off your head!" The hoplite warrior let out a battle cry and pushed his spear into a clear way towards the Piltoverian's heart.

Many people in the audience jumped out of their boots with the loud crash that ensued. Time itself seemed to be slowed down around the two frenzied Champions, Pantheon's spear thrusted forward at immensely slow speed and you could see Jayce's hammer's joints move in and out of place with a slightly ticking noise. Two pair of hands had grabbed the warriors by the head and pushed them out of the way. Zilean lifted the spell just before they fell to the floor and exited the room in silence, not even bothering further.

"What in the name of Demacia do you think you're doing!" The first meddling person appeared to be Garen, his hands were ready to reach out for his sword if necessary. "W-Why you..." Pantheon began, but Katarina pushed a knife against his throat with a wide grin across her face.
The other people present at the dining hall were looking at the unfolding scene with eyes popping right out of their skulls, it seemed like more people were ready to intervene when things started to go bad (excluding all the frightened Summoners) but Garen and Katarina were the first to step in.

Katarina rolled her eyes at the two men lying on the floor: "You guys are fucking annoying, go play outside and don't bother us in the Noxian section." She hissed, the scar on her eye moved along with every annoyed twitch she made.
"You seem to have missed that Prince Jarvan Lightshield the Fourth was enjoying his dinner in this establishment, show a little respect!"
The audience sighed, they seemed to have jumped in for their own silly reasons.

Jayce got up first and brushed his hand across his golden hammer: "This isn't over, there won't be a bright future for you, nor your Goddess." He ran a finger through his hair and returned to where Caitlyn and Vi were sitting, both laughing at his immense failure.
Pantheon didn't even give the audience he'd gained a look, he just jumped up and grabbed his belongings before rushing out of the dining hall to clear some answers.
"Damn you, Leona, this is all your fault." He spat while running, he'd finally taken the time to go under the people again after yet another merciless defeat upon the Fields of Justice, he'd finally gotten rid of all the rage inside of him (the one that had to be taken out of his system) and now he would finally take the time to talk to Leona once again.

It didn't take him long to reach his destination, his strong legs would carry him everywhere in half the time it would take a normally trained warrior: "LEONA!" He banged his fist on the door, a frustrated yell was added to it. "LEONA, OPEN UP DAMMIT!"
But the woman in question simple blocked the door with her body, barely dressed in a violet toga with golden ornaments: "Pantheon..." She sounded hopeful for a moment but ran her nails through the wood of the entrance until they were battered and bleeding. Her head shook with every bang on the door, his powerful hands made her whole room tremble: "Leave now!" She whispered, holding back tears.

The trembling of the door seized, making room for a more gentle request: "Leona, open up this door..." The helmeted man tried again, though there was still a snarl in the back of his voice. But the redhead was now the one to bang her head against the door, she did it three times before the first tears finally exited her eyes: "N-No..." The sound almost didn't reach her fellow Rakkorian, for she bit her lip until it turned sore.
"GO AWAY!"
Pantheon jumped back for he saw that a divine golden light was trying to push itself through the cracks of the wooden door. Leona let her back rest against it and slowly realized that the next throbbing sounds she heard wasn't the pain inside her skull but his strong footsteps leaving the area.

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR
And now it'll become a romantic comedy!