Extra chapter


Higgs

I found myself staring down into the abyss of a cold world under me. Deep by the bottom, one lone man stood in mute shock at what I'd done.
Arrows stared upwards, his throne crumbling along with his world. Each rock fracturing and floating upwards, into the light. For all the maelstrom that raged around him his fur coats didn't rustle, not even a whisper. But the glare he shot upwards all but screamed at me.

"You fool." He whispered.
Somehow I heard him.
"Guilty as charged my friend!" I shouted back. It struck me how optimistic I was.
"I'm nothing but an anathema. You've damned us." He snarled, furious now that he understood just what really was going on.
"I think we were damned to begin with Boss. Don't worry. This time around, It'll be different. You know, you left me alone up here way back when without even thinking about the future. Pretty irresponsible actually. Turns out - I've lived a lifetime too. I'm willing to share that with you Boss. No - I'm going to share that with you."
His eyes held my own. Hatred. Fear. Loss. Sadness. And perhaps... faith. Whatever it was, Arrows knew there was nothing he could do to stop me. It's started, and it won't end until we're all in tears.

I stretched my hand out, demanding him upward. His eyes narrowed with distrust. I wasn't real after all. A figment of imagination, a last dying wish from an old man filled with regrets. I could even feel his thoughts in my bones now, slowly sinking into my mind. Despair, denial, and defeat. Would I disappear? I thought. But I knew I had become too close to being real to simply vanish now. Magic was my origin. But humanity was my present.

He closed his eyes in surrender, and began to drift upwards too alongside his ruined world. The ice melting in the light, and the ground dissolving into the air.

We'd get through this together I promised him. All the trash he'd left behind, we'd pick it up. Because if he wasn't strong enough, I was. And after all, even if I'm a fake, I'm a perfect fake. And with that thought, the whisps of memory began to appear within the maelstrom in small silver strands. The first that came to my mind was a young girl, holding herself proudly. Her features slowly unblurred, and crispened. She reached a hand out to me, as if welcoming an old long gone friend. She was smiling, with beautiful ruby red hair and green eyes. I knew instantly she was clever, smart, capable.

I almost vomited at the sight, my body clearly remembering her face before my mind could even grasp who she was.
And just like that, the white background changed into a small classroom.
The windows turned into the green fields.
Her smile twisted into a challenge.

"All right then, I bet you all my superbucks that the assignment did say to cross ALL the T's!" I shouted at her, pissed off and not thinking. But she's a dumbass and a moron - and a girl too. So I was sure to win.
She had a bucktooth, with a stubborn nature. What I'd give to see her proved wrong! Right now, that was all the superbucks stashed in my desk. Worth it.
"Fine! I'll ask the teacher, and he'll tell you you're wrong! Better get ready to pay up all your superbucks stupid!" She yelped back at me, clearly not taking my bluff.

I did just that. Walking back to my desk could be parallel to a man walking back from the bank, bankrupt. My level of disappointment was pretty huge.
Not as huge as her grin, realizing I was now broke, she had doubled her account and there was no way in hell I'd ever catch back up. The stingy teacher had only given me 5 superbucks in the entire year so far! I don't get into that much trouble.

I pulled out those 5 superbucks and slapped them on the desk. Stupid girl. But damn, I can't believe I was wrong. My other tablemates stood up for me surprisingly.
"Common Lissarah, he was just being dumb. Don't take all his superbucks..."
"Nope. Bet's a bet. You know what Mr. Steve said at the start of the year yea?"
We nodded. The teacher had been pretty clear. If you bet with your class money, you'd need to cough it up. So I was at the mercy of Lissarah. Might as well just ask if I can do something to get them back.
"Liss, Can't I do something to get them back?"

The redhaired girl thought for a moment. She was calculating in her head just what she could get away with. For a ten year old girl, she was leagues above whatever I could throw.
"Ok Ker!" She cheerfully said. "You've got to hang out with my friends and play our games instead of handball now until the end of the year! We always wanted a boy to play with us!"
"But I don't want to hang out with only girls, you're girls! Besides, I don't even know what you do for fun. And handball's really fun, why don't you play handball instead? Everyone know how to play handball, it's like the national sport! Don't you feel left out not knowing how to play handball?"
She thought, but clearly she knew I wasn't in a spot to make demands.
"Nope! Deal's a deal. If you want your superbucks back, you've got to play with us instead now." You know, I think I can play around for a month or two. Then I might be able to sneak back to playing handball. She'll forget. For sure.
"All right. Fine! I'll hang out with you stupid girls instead of playing handball. Now can I get my superbucks back?" This girl was annoying. She could always convince me to do anything for her somehow. Every single time!

It really sucks.


9 weeks ago - Higgs

Each day, I'd hang around the bakery like a delinquent looking for trouble. It had after all, become a second home to me. I found it a quiet and relaxing place. Morgana didn't seem to mind, beside we weren't at war anymore. I don't think I could survive that paranoia anymore. I slept in the fucking attic and still woke up with dog ears attached. Not to mention after the antics she made me pull on Kayle, I think I earned the right to do as I pleased in her bakery. Damn it all.
Although there were some surprise champions I had never thought would come, but did. I will never, ever, forget that Garen turned out to be absolutely addicted to Morgana's Crum Crum Cutie Pie Surprises ~3 (Written with a heart at the end - not even kidding. Not to mention the pastries were a manly shade of pink.) Of course with such a name, if you want to order the pastry, the angel requires you to say the full detailed name outloud. No exceptions. Add the hand gestures for the heart – and move it in a circle while saying the name.

We swapped a few words, Garen and I. It had a lot to do with him staring at me, like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar. We came to an understanding quickly enough - I don't tell anyone else, and nothing bad happens to me. Morgana on her end just didn't stop grinning. And that was just one of the many champions that came by.

Eventually, the baker herself came over to talk to me when her shop was empty for long enough.
"Summoner." She barked.
I scribbled one last rune, and looked up at my guest.
"Well Hello Miss. Am I doing something I shouldn't?"
"That depends on your next answer. You've been coming here for more than éclairs - procrastinating work and passing hours just scribbling note after note. What exactly are you so focused on?"

You don't lie to Morgana of course. After all this time, that's one lesson you don't forget - especially after the Jax fiasco with Riven's job.
So I told her. All of it, what I was doing, and why I was doing it. Her answer was flat.
"Fool's errand. Whatever you made yourself forget must have been too much for you to handle then. The same will apply now."
"I think you might be underestimating me here a bit. I'm more experience in magic, and have years under my belt. Not to mention after handling Riven and all the surprises that came with the package -"
A dark tendril shot up and brushed my lips until my voice simmered down.
"Shhhh summoner." Said Morgana, "What have you been doing up to now?"
"I've b-"
"Being a summoner, fighting in the league of legends. Dealing with champions, good, evil, perverted, noble, and so forth. You learned nothing about the outside world, you stayed in this little paradise you call your life. You are no stronger, you can't possibly be stronger. Magic isn't going to beat your inner demons, and neither will the years. Perhaps some soul searching and a some time exploring the outside world while you've still got legs and youth to carry you. There's only one thing in this world that could make you a stronger soul Summoner, and that's perspective. You have none, and you naively believe you can solve something your predecessor couldn't - with even less information then he."
"I've met a lot of people in the league - the best the world has to offer. Only the better mages are selected to train at the ins-," tried to answer back, but Morgana already had an answer for me.
"You've found friends, a place to belong? Cute. What makes you think your forerunner hadn't the same exact things? A single spark of passion can change a man forever. A single moment in a lifetime is all it takes to break him. And you somehow built for yourself a go-free card from that moment, now you're trying to undo that."
"I can't just ig-"
"Do remember mortal, you're such fragile creatures."
".. Looks to me you're not looking for any counter-argument."
She smiled sweetly.

I mulled over her words. She came out latter and offered a free croissant. She said some food in my stomach might knock my sense back, but she heavily implied the chances of that were close to nil. Also something to the effect of an idiot rushing his hand back on the flame that burned him.


Memories swap past me like water on rock. Spinning past me, faster and faster, trying to catch stolen time and hoard it away.
We were eleven soon enough, and inseparable. Then young teenagers and hated enemies. Studied magic. She studied the arts. College, older now. Strangers, distant friends. Once has-beens, and has-never been. We were growing up, finding ourselves. We found each other instead.

"Wow Lissarah! Is that you?! You've changed!" I say, shocked to see an old face walk by randomly one clear day. I thought she'd moved to some countryside in Ionia. She'd always been dreaming about that since we met.
"Ker? I thought you'd gone to the city by now! Are you on your way somewhere?"
"Err, not exactly. To be honest, I've got a day off from the college, and I'm just killing time. You?"
"Same, want to grab a cup of coffee and catch up?"

Suddenly things changed. A destiny fell comfortably between us, as it had been threatening to from the very start. We started talking.
And never stopped.


12 weeks ago - Higgs

"Malcom. There's no turning back now. Don't tell me you're getting cold feet." A woman with a ridiculously huge sword threatened me.
"I know, I know. But I get this terribl-"
"Higgs. If you back out of this, trust me, I'm throwing all the real details to Kayle." Lux coldly said, with the authority of a life-wrecker behind her voice.
"You wouldn't! She'd kill me if she learned the truth. She's already suspecting me as it is!" Despite begging, Lux's glare didn't warm a single degree.
"If you die, I'll personally drag your ghost out and put you through hell." Kate took a page from Lux, matching her pitch perfectly. "I happen to know Thresh."

You know, I thought, considering how personal this entire thing was going to be - It's pretty damn surprising my room's fucking filled with people.

Riven already knew, and had her hunches. She's the one that pushed and pushed me to face myself.
Kate's been special in my life. There's no way I'm doing this without her.
And Lux was Lux. She found out. What can I say other then, "Thank the league she didn't tell Jax."

"We've gotten through a lot together. We can beat this part of you too. Not just I - Kate, Sarah, Lux, Jax, Shyvana, everyone else you know - they're there too for you. Irelia followed me straight to the hill and fought side by side with me against an enemy that had nothing to do with her. Lux, Jax and Sarah followed after to save us. If they could do that for me, someone they'd just met a month ago, what would they not be willing to do to help you?" Riven's turn now. Hands crossed on her chest, the Noxian was not looking for a coward's way out.
"I... "
"What was it you showed me over the last few months? 'Trust the people you know.' How about you follow your own advice summoner?" Finished the ex-commander.

"All right, all right. Stop hounding after me, damn." I muttered, defeated. "Guess I can't back out with that speech. Since when did you learn to talk like that Riven?"
The white haired girl just threw me an aloof grin.
"Battle bunnies learn everything about rallying men. And not just with steamy seduction."

And so began my true work on finding out just who I was.

To be blunt - I'd never questioned myself before. One day I woke up to the note, and just started going on with my life like nothing had happened. Just as you'd never question why you breathe. Evidence was all around you, but you failed to notice it. Perhaps that was part of my predecessor's spells – a failsafe to make sure I'd move forward rather than backwards. But once you're aware, there's no avoiding it.

Like I explained Riven, I was most likely Noxian.
I based this on a few things.

The note's handwriting. It's syntax was definitely Noxian translated word for word to common. Not only that, Malcom Arrows was a Noxian sounding name.
I wondered if I had killed people. Like her.

Second, Arrows knew how to fight. That was certain after what Quinn told me - although I had adopted an Ionina battle stance. It wasn't uncommon for soldiers - especially professional ones that only did combat - to learn enemy technique, and apparently I wore the stance perfectly so that pointed to a seasoned warrior. I wondered each day just what was it that drove my forerunner insane. A noxian soldier ran out of ideas and wiped his memory. Why?
Riven managed to live past her own past, I saw to that. It took a long while, and plenty of arm breaking. Literally too, I actually did break her arm once when Singed drugged the both of us to return to our older states. Arrows turned out to be a berserker of sorts. Strong, but absolutely out of Riven's league. Maybe I've always secretly hoped I was some sort of great warrior, or a king's son in exile. Something glorious like that. The reality of it was obviously going to be grounded to earth.
So it's far more likely I was a higher tier Noxian foot-soldier at some point. I know there were plenty of soldiers in the Ionian wars that became recluse. A few cases of suicide when I dug around - but all of it was suicide from shame of not having done enough. Freezing up when the Ionians attacked, being unable to save a comrade, or hiding among the battlefield instead of fighting.

That sort of shame was a death sentence to a Noxian. But it wasn't common either. Noxian were also selfish by nature. Being able to fight for your own self-interests was considered a very noble goal, and a very human goal as well. And that comes with the understanding that your life was the single most prized possession - as such should never be thrown for any reason.

I also understood magic. Which means I may have been a necromancer's assistant in the wars. In Noxus, magic was synonymous with necromancy after all.

As for the work - difficult and slow. My past self had been very thorough.
Although Mark left me with all the memories of magic and it's use, I found out he had removed some knowledge of it. I didn't realize until I began work on the memory restore spell, in depth. Summoners kept a network of wards to defend and alert them from incoming attacks. These wards are slowly built over years, I had 47 wards for example, and every clear sunny day, I'd add another one for some vulnerability I suddenly realized, or tweaked an existing one to perfection. Not vision wards mind you. These wards were true spells, etched in our bones.

Turns out, I had 48 wards. One mystery ward, leftover from my old time. It's been quietly sitting, unnoticed for years. Dormant for one reason only. In a way, It was a delightful challenge. To out-code my own previous self. At first, I thought it would be easy. I know far more things than my past self would, even if this branch of magic had been scrubbed, It couldn't be very deep, and I'd easily encode it's destruction. I tried nearly 20 times to fake a response from it, each attack unique and different, without any luck. I only knew that it existed, and was built with very advanced detection. Very nearly gave myself fake memories in the process which would be beyond silly. And also nearly gave up, exhausting all my options of attack.

The ward was a real piece of art. I was going to have to bring my big guns.


My house. Her smile vanished into an angry stare.
"Ker Dormar!" This was trouble, if she said my full name, nothing good was going to come out of this, I flinched.

"Really now, I thought we talked about this a week ago."
She tutted at me, hands on her hip. My attempt to sneak in failed miserably tonight. I mean, what did I even expect? The girl was an artist, her sense were leagues above mine.

Defeated, I sighed out my excuse.
"I tried, really. But you know how it is. There's always someone screwing up, and I've got to clean up for them! The fools don't know anything about real magic. Honestly, you should've been smarter when you said yes."
"So I'm going to have to resort to bribery to get you back home earlier, huh?"
"Oh?"

Liss walked towards me, a mischievous smile twinkling in her green eyes.
Her index finger reached out and stabbed me lightly on my chest.
"I guess I could always reward for coming home earlier. Dinner, and a show,"
Her lips purred, she reached forward close to my ear, "Just a thought."
"I like shows." I weakly answer.

She pushed me back lightly,
"And I like dinner. So let's compromise."

"You know, I think the only reason you married me, was because I could cook, and you can't. Aren't you really just saying 'Oh save me, dashing hero, from the clutches of being hungry - and too lazy to cook!'" I argued, settling down my attire and spinning her into my arms - I was a dashing hero anyhow.
"Hmmm, The world may never know. How about we talk it over dinner, you can cook right?"
"That's not fair, you can always convince me to do anything for you in the end."
"Am I not worth it?"
She gave me a deep hug, her hands reaching my cheeks. I felt so happy with her. They said we married too fast, too young. Neither of us thought so. From the moment we met, there was something more between us. Despite the years, and the shallow hatreds, crushes, and missed opportunities. We still gravitated back. For the years after, that spark remained just as constant. We were mirror selves, always competing, and always knowing we'd be together. For some reason, this made me nauseous. All thoughts about her made me feel physically sick.

Why? My stomach lurched at my curiosity, knowing just what was in store.
The spell mercilessly answered my question a moment latter, uncaringly following its only directive.


1 day ago

The battle against the ward had truly humbled me. When I finally understood it's nature, and how it was built, I realized just how much more I knew then. The ward was created with a completely different branch of magic I hadn't studied extensively, it also incorporated encodes from even the most advanced sections I HAD studied. And these were recent discoveries and masteries, some dating back to only half a year ago that the present me had mastered.

When I cast that spell on myself years ago, I had willingly lobotomized myself. Removed a good half of everything I knew about magic, just to protect this one secret. I was only a slightly better summoner now then I was then.

The day came where I planned to bring back Arrows. Of all the people, it was Riven's presence that soothed my nerves.
She grabbed my shoulder and held it tight. You know, any normal person would have given me a quick hug, or held my hand and squeezed it.
Not Riven. Nope, just one manly shoulder pat. I guess some things won't ever change.

With a nod, I began to scribble the framework of the spell in chalk on the ground.
It was a long time before I was done. Standing in the middle of the diagram I had written, that spanned the entire floor of my room, I drank the focus potion and triggered the spell.

My last sight was Riven, a brave look on her face.
Lux with a curious expression, wanting to meet the real me.
And Kate, just hoping I'd return together.

Then my spell attacked me.

Arrow's final ward flared then instantly dimmed and went dark. Having scanned the attacking spell it recognized a threat it would be unable to fight head to head. Thus it receded into the background, grudgingly allowing the invader in - watching carefully for any signs of weakness. Waiting from the shadows and hoping to save me from my own madness.


The memories I spent in the Ionian fields, with friends, with family flowed over me swiftly. It seemed almost picture perfect.
Drama and breakups among friends, gossip, work, new people along with people I disliked. A couple of years went by. We talked about having a child. She loved the idea. The nervous thoughts about becoming a father, the talks among friends at the local bar. They all warned me to wait at least until I was 25. Too young, much too young they'd keep telling me. Have another beer my friend. The elders just chuckled and patted our backs, with soft whispers of "Ohhh youth." Everything whizzed past me, festivals of crimson and kimonos of brightly colored fabrics - such a world only Ionia could possess. Until they came. And then our world became dark.

And it would stay dark forever after.

The Noxians. Banners flying high, and bloodlust at their side. Come to take everything. Lead by their great commander, clad in green steel armor. I had only ever seen him in images captured by soldiers. A juggernaut. Unstoppable, with a blade as huge as he was. The armies of death rolled over the fields and trees where I spent my life. Their grand commander cared not.

The war always seemed so distant until it wasn't. Without warning, they came and pillaged everything. One day our life was peaceful, the next our life was a blur of red and fading sights. We hid under the floor planks. Still, they found us. I didn't know how to fight with magic. Only how to repair - to follow through with my simple job. I wasn't a good mage, just an average one. An average mage can't fight Noxian pillagers. Nor hide, nor barter, nor escape. Nothing. For all the powers I thought had, I had nothing to show for it.

The ward returned to fight for me then. I'd studied it intensely after all, It was built to attack anything superior to itself only when it calculated an advantageous position. Or when a certain threshold cannot be left to pass. Either the spell I cast was at its weakest right now, which was impossible, or…

This must be the threshold, where the old 'Malcom Arrows' had decided no matter what, I cannot know. All-in, on the off chance that the ward had miscalculated the strength of the invader. On the off chance the ward would be capable of stopping my reckless spell.

Tackling on the attacking spell, the ward struck hard. I cheered it on, seeing the memory fade slightly. It struck blow after blow and the memory receded. Agile as a fox, clever as man. But I knew it was completely futile.
Within a second, my spell isolated the ward. Like a cat that had been waiting for the pesky mouse to make its move. This has been a long time coming. It pounced, and the ward flared back, fighting, no retreat. But there was no emotion, just logic. My spell was simply superior. Tailored from the ground up to destroy the ward. There was no chance that the ward would do its ultimate job. It hunted down any redundant copies of it's opponent, destroying its blueprints one after another, cutting lifelinks and resource starving the remaining pieces. Until the ward sputtered and dimmed. No matter how clever put it was, no matter how valiant it tried to save me from myself, the ward inevitably broke down when it's critical points were breached. Unable to amass the necessary power and integrity to fix itself past that point. It's core too unstable to even whisper.

In a final gust of furry, the ancient guardian disintegrated upon itself and only memory remained.

The commander in charge was Marisas. The cruelest of them all they called him. The right hand of insanity. The Butcher was clean and through, executing civilians without putting them through more. The tip of the spear for the Noxian war machine. Efficiency above all. Wasted time was a commodity that the butcher refused to spend on. No pillaging, no looting. Kill fast and move on.

Marisas, and his soldiers did not. If the butcher was the spear, Marisas was the poison before the fight. His company had been sent deep into the Ionian territory, to rampage from village to village, spreading misery and fear. To weaken the army and the nation for the butcher's steady push. Each of the soldiers picked for that army were among the most violent Noxian he could find. Murders, thugs, and the condemmed to rot in jail for eternity. An army that followed him gladly.

They took everything in my home. Drank anything they found, crushed whatever was fragile. They'd talk to one another laughing in their Noxian dialect. I'd never met such men before, they appeared half-monsters, half-legend. Can a human truly be this? These monsters?
When the soldiers were done pillaging everything, it was time to execute the couple. I was dragged out and held down to the worst of torture: Witnessing. They brought me to my knees, beating any life in me out until I couldn't even lift my head to look. They did that for me, gloved hands painfully keeping my head up by the hair. Victory had already long since been announced. They took their time.

When they finally got to ending her, they missed the killing blow. Her scream chilled my own. Raising to strike again, too drunk to aim well, they missed the second killing blow. She'd lost any energy to even think of screaming by now. I was at the edge of sanity myself too. My voice had already gone mute. Before they could strike true their commander blew his horn from the distance. The soldiers turned and hurried out with quick discipline.

The one who was supposed to execute Liss left me his weapon along with the most horrible words in my life. Half gutted speech of a Noxian attempting to speak Ionian.
"Got lucky, you." He sneered.
Then he pointed at her.
"She leaving house alive slowly, chance not. Finish you," He kneeled down, a rotting yellow smile. "Is mercy."

And he was gone.

Was I lucky? I crawled up and held what was left of her in my arms.
I felt the minutes passing as the seconds died with each weakening beat. Hearing her struggling in the silence. I didn't know who was in the most pain.

Is this luck?
With every moment, I felt my soul darken and come closer and closer to insanity's tender welcoming hands. I wanted it to. I wanted it to consume me whole. But the hollow knowledge stayed at my side. Even insanity could not protect me.

I held the faint embers of a destroyed life I would have given anything to protect and terrible knowing that it was slowly fading in agony. I met her eyes, her final request from me etched deep in those green irises.

Sometime before dawn, I walked out of that house. The Noxian weapon in my hand was shaking so badly from my grip, the drops of fresh blood were draining fast from the blade. She always could convince me to do anything for her. This time, it just cost me my soul.

The Ionians arrived latter. They found a village that had been deserted. Only the dead, and the undead like me remained.
The food silo was taken as per their objectives, the lives were cut. The day was lost before the fight had arrived.
This was the 7th time the Ionians couldn't keep up with the rampant cavalry of Marisas.

I buried her at a hill, threw my shovel down and picked up a sword. That's what I'll become.
I walked to the nearest soldier. I couldn't utter a word after the damage my screaming had done to my throat, so instead I scribbled on the ground furiously to get my message. The sword dicing through the soaked dirt.

The soldier stopped.
And he understood.

They brought me to the captain.
I just pointed at his weapon.
And he understood also. So joined their efforts. What choice did I have?

I fought with absolute recklessness. Unfeeling for my life. My mind was naked of all thoughts except for only one unwavering need. Perhaps I'd even die in the fight. I could only hope. But I'd never be used as an example for the troops. The less people knew about me the better - and the military knew that lesson all too well just from a glance at the damned.

There were others like me. Called Marisas's Shadows. It was rare of him to leave any survivors, and most of them died within the week, usually by their own will, or they simply starve to death. If they did live, they'd always turned to the sword like me. No one knew what we'd become after the sword. We weren't sterling examples of what a soldier should be.

We were reminders of what could be lost.

So this was how I lived. Desperately focusing on one thing, to forget for the moment all the other things. Getting drunk was a parlor trick and I knew in my soul it wouldn't save me. I learned how to fight more efficiently with every battle. Mindlessly I'd spend my days practicing or in war. There was nothing else. Rather, there was no place for anything else. I feared no death. I died in that house, why should death scare me now?

Our captain killed himself after the 12th failure. The guilt must have done him in. I watched him sink into the ground. All other looked at him with mourning, I stared at him with jealousy. Eventually, like all things in life, the war ended just like our captain. Like that, on some odd day, the last strands of purpose was taken from me. Alone with only my mind to replay my memories again and again.

I nearly ended my life. But I couldn't. I couldn't end it like all the other shadows Marisas had left behind.

She always could convince me to do anything for her.
That one final curse she put on me. "Live." She'd managed to whisper out, despite the blood in her throat and lungs suffocating her voice. The last supreme effort she had. I couldn't just ignore that.

Delirious with the tips of madness. The army no longer sated my need for vengeance, the only thing in my head, now that the war was over. I could charge forward and hunt down Marisas. But without any allies I would be simply running to my death. Nobody at my side, nothing in my life, nothing left of it.

"Live." She selfishly told me as I lifted that axe. Running to my death would go against what she asked.

But I wasn't living either. I was just a dead man walking around, pretending he was alive - hell, I'd been doing the same in the army. Already I was breaking my curse. How can I live, Liss? I'm not living. I can't with these monsters in my mind.
How can I live, after seeing everything in my life get cut to pieces and sent to the afterlife? No friends, no family, no home, nothing.

So I returned to my old job focusing on magic. Night and day, complete and utter dedication. I grew good with the mindless practice. Amazingly good. There was nothing else in my life to distract me. And when they could no longer ignore me, I heard the summons. A magi of my level was a perfect candidate to becoming as summoner. They wanted me to join their ranks. To study in their academy all forms of magic until I was deemed a true summoner.
And that's when a plan formed in my mind. A way to live. I took the summoner's oath knowing full well in 3 months time I would care less for vengeance. They let me take the oath, knowing full well in 3 months time, I would throw away all ties to Ionia and my hatred for Noxus. That's what's required of a summoner. I'd study the one magic that would deliver me from this nightmare.

I remember the night before I became Malcom Arrows. Standing on the pentacle similar to the one I made just a moment ago. It had been prepared perfectly. Specifically targeting all the memories I knew would hold me back from living. The ward had also been completed. It would be years before I could even half master what I knew now to destroy it, I'd make sure of that. The most complex and powerful ward I had ever created. It would give me an impenetrable wall.

I wrote the letter, in common, throwing the trail to my future self. Deliberately I followed the same Noxian grammar the soldiers had used in their ghastly language. Let me believe I could be Noxan. As far away from an Ionian as I could make it. I wouldn't leave myself a single crumb. Nothing. I rushed, the time was almost on me. I furiously scribbled the note down, so eager to escape.

I signed it, Malcom Arrows. A fake name. A name I researched and double checked – there was not a single Malcom Arrows in the world. A Noxian name.
The league had abided by my plan, all paper trails lead back to Malcom Arrows. Ker Dormar would finally follow with the rest of everything he'd known, into oblivion. I could die in peace.

I'd make sure everything I stripped from my soul would be filled back again. Clever mix of necromancy and neuromancy - My replacement would be a great man. Full of life. A man that could smile at anything on the inside, embrace life in its fullest. Someone programmed to do exactly what I couldn't.

Tears obscured my vision now, but knowing my final victory was at hand I crawled into the diagram, drowning down the potion that would focus the spell on me. I almost choked on it from my haste. My knees curled and I hugged them close to my chest. Hadn't cried since that day, hadn't dared to cry since that day.

The memories racked bloody cracks into my mind, the old torturers angered beyond belief that this would be the final time they could torment me. The spell slowly powered up drawing energy until it would reach its critical point and activate. I couldn't wait. Already dementia had fully manifested inside me with all my will to fight back the insanity finally deserting. What's the point in fighting that monster anymore? In a few seconds, no matter what I thought, it'd be done with. I gave in finally. A raspy voice, filled with dust and decay, sounded.
"For you Liss. For you Liss. Always for you Liss. I never forgot. For you." I repeated over and clutching my ears in a desperate attempt to stifle the words the soldier said. The screaming I had heard, mine maybe. Holding onto my last drop of sanity rationed through the years by willpower alone, pitted against the that terrifying onslaught. The weight of the axe hovering above her broken throat and the weight of her demand in those unbroken green eyes.

And then the spell mercifully ignited. All of my suffering came to an end. It had no mercy on myself or my tormentors. Forever locked, prisoners of war never to be released. Torn into parts now. An Icy realm in my mind vacuumed the memories and hatred, a graveyard formed at the bottom of my mind.
Another spell rushed to fill the void that had been created with the split parts, returning flesh and muscle to where my soul had been stripped to bones. Artificial, pre-created. The new me, built from whatever core I had left behind. I saw the birth of light as I fell into darkness. The man that would wake up, believing he had once been Malcom Arrows. Ready to live.

"Ker."
She said, in that half conscious state. My mind being pinned down as memory after memory was shoved into oblivion. Good, and bad. Everything.

I was... dying.

"Live." Her smile. I reached out for her, already forgetting her name.
Our fingers brushed. I felt my mind schism further, the parts spinning away uncontrollably. Up and down mixed up. And the damned knowledge spiraled away into the maw of that abyss, helpless against the maelstrom sucking me in. Her face blurred now, the colors faded to grey. Was her eyes blue? Red? Green? I couldn't remember.
I was falling, faster and faster, away from her. The frozen world was closing on me. Sealing me in behind iron and darkness.

"Live."

She said.
Then disappeared.
And Ker Dormar disappeared alongside her.