Ekko's fingers slowly trailed across the spines, bump after bump. He could almost hear the sighs, the whispers, begging to be held, opened and read. The knowledge of centuries, of different cultures and believes, the hurt and joy of a thousand lives, all focused, boiled down and printed on seemingly insignificant paper. The books lines shelves after shelves, row after row, room after room. The library on the League's island was really well stocked, Ekko thought, just like every time he came by. Although the population with access to these books wasn't the biggest and only half of them where interested in books to begin with (and a good percentage of the other half probably didn't know how to read without using their finger) the selection of printed volumes was huge. The interested half probably had enough interest to make up for a small country after all.

Walking into the library a familiar, yet still unsettling sight had greeted Ekko. Vel'Koz was the most efficient and invested librarian Ekko had ever heard of existing on a non-flat world, even though he technically wasn't even from here. That being said he just couldn't get used to the idea that any living being could be reading 4 different books at a time, two held and two propped up on the desk and still manage to watch you with that librarian expression on it's non-existing face that said: "I don't trust you to touch my books with those dirty fingers of yours and don't you dare make a single sound. I can hear you breathe from across the room and it's making my tentacles itch."
Ekko had nodded hello quietly and then quickly hurried off toward the back end of the building to escape the watchful spare eyes of his fellow champion.
He had come here looking for a certain book that Zilean had recommended he should read in response to question that had been bugging the young man for a while.
The z-drive had been working just fine ever since Ekko had built it, which actually was the problem at hand, Ekko had no idea why. He'd had a smart idea on how he could build the device with a rough idea of what it should do and maybe even a spark of ingenuity of how it could twist time but he'd never in his life thought it would actually work. But it did and the young champion would never have dared to complain about that fact. After all though, he was a scientist at heart and the need to know why had been burning in him for a long time, only suppressed by the ironical sheer lack of time on his part.
His life in the League had somehow given him a little breathing room on that part, though for the longest time recently he'd been feeling like he was suffocating with the depression, the sadness. He had barely been able to drag himself out of bed but had found his way back in, as he always did, by building something, making something good. And after the longest time he had rediscovered his curiosity and it had felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his chest.
And so, one morning found the young man with the bleached white hair in his gruff Zaun attire trying to do walk of inconspicuousness of the truly innocent past the scrutinizing eyes of the librarian.

In the dark corners of some room at the end of a flight of stairs and corridors, Ekko found the section labelled with "T" and raised his hand to trace along the titles on the back of the books, looking for the one labelled, as Zilean had informed him, Trajectories of Time.
" 'The Truth about Shurima's Long Lost Treasures', 'Trunks and how to build them', 'Trubbalahi'.", he whispered the words written in golden ink, black ink, curly lettering. " 'Tropical Birds and their Nesting behaviour', 'Trophycrafting'…" He skipped a few shelves and continued on, changing hands and going the other way along the line of books.
" 'Tracking your enemies: Proper Mapping in Combat', 'Trad van Carh – official biography', 'Trading along the Cotton Road', 'Traditional Ionian Clothing and its social Significance', 'Training your dragon', 'Training your Poro', 'Training your Voidling', almost there, 'Training your Wyvern', 'Tragedies in Theatre throughout the ages', 'Tragedy and - ", and he stopped. His gloved right hand hovered over the title.
" 'Tragedy and Time'.", Ekko repeated to himself. The words felt… not familiar but in an odd sense right. They easily rolled off his tongue as if they'd been sitting there waiting to jump out of his mouth. Without thinking about it, he reached out and pulled the book out from between its neighbours, totally ignoring the huge tome titled 'Trajectories of Time' standing right next to it.

The book felt weighty in Ekko's hands, even though it wasn't even that large.
The letters on the title were clean and without much decoration, the cover a hand-drawn simplified picture of… him?

He flipped it open. It made a cracking sound as the glue in the spine was bent into an unfamiliar position. The crisp white pages were looking back up at him, not many people seemed to have picked this book up before. There was no date of publication.

The first page read:

"From the girl of the bright sea, spirit of the waters.
From the girl who shattered his life, to the boy who had his heart shattered."

The world seemed to tilt sideways and Ekko's knees gave away.

He sunk to the ground, onto the cold hard marble tiles. Although he felt every muscle in his body refuse to work, felt his heart protest, his lungs unable to suck in the air like they had done for years, his hand refused to let go of the book. His fingers were holding onto it so tightly, he could feel the pain from the cramps creeping up his arms.

Ekko sat for a while, waiting for his head to stop spinning, the ringing in his ears to subside. And then another small eternity before he could move his body again. And then another longer eternity before his heart felt like his own again.
In a sudden bout of desperation he ripped off his gloves and threw them over his shoulder carelessly, tracing his bare fingers over the pages, the words, the time and love poured from a small heart onto the pale paper. The warmth of the fingers that had a long time ago written these lines travelled from the page, up his hands into his veins. Tragedy and Time, she had called their story, how fitting.

A small smile crept onto Ekko's lips. What a treasure he had found.


..


A/N: This is the chapter you get, but it is the chapter you deserve?

Because I come to tell you this: I will be getting Tragedy and Time printed as a book! *。ヾ(。ovo。)ノ゙*。
I have wanted to do this for myself ever since the start, draw the cover picture myself (link to art blog in profile :P ) but then I talked to some of you and apparently I might not be the only one that wants a copy… Can you even imagine my feels right now?! (ノ≧∀≦)ノ

So, I've looked into printing and its actually possible!
As much as I would love to gift you two books each, I really would, I cannot afford that :( Depending on how many copies I get printed, my expenses will differ and then there's international shipping since you beautiful peeps live all over the place, but I don't think we'll be looking at more than15-20$ tops each and of course it'd only ask for you to cover the expenses!

If you are interested in getting a copy, could you maybe email me at mockingbirbs at gmail dot com? I will be giving you as much information as I can as soon as I have it, but I'm hoping to maybe get it shipped in time for Christmas :3

..geez, I'm so exited! :D see you around, you're the best as always!
Chirp, birb.