"Seriously Jayce? THAT'S your guy?", Ezreal flailed his arms in despair as soon as his eyes were met with the boy's familiar face.
"Take it easy Jay-El or I might actually be offended by your barbaric manners", Ekko quipped as he ran a finger through his perfectly styled white mohawk. Ezreal face palmed. Hard.
"I know you're the one who set me up Ekko! Now they all think it was me that abducted these people, including the one that's standing right next to me", he said sarcastically. Katarina DuCuteau scoffed annoyed.
"Are you sure about him president?", she asked mockingly with a raised eyebrow.
"You're the ones who asked for more time", giggled Jayce and Ekko joined in half a second later.
Ezreal raised his eyebrows. Now they're having they're own little inside jokes. Fantastic.
"Jay-El. I mean Ezreal!", Ekko corrected himself. "I'm really sorry about that. Jayce explained to me what happened. But you gotta understand that at the moment you did look shady af", he sighed then placed his palm on Ezreal's chest. "Relax", he offered a comforting smile. "This is me fixing that little mishap".
"And how could you be useful to us? This is going to be dangerous. You might not make it back", Katarina said in the form of a warning.
"Chill lady", Ekko brought his hands behind his head and yawned. "I may or may not have a few aces up my sleeve", he winked towards Ezreal's general direction.
"Well then", Ezreal started, "they better be good. Cause the blood moon's tonight".
He was lying outside feeling the warm breeze under the hot sunrays. He lifted his palm, trying to block the blinding light that was stabbing his eye. But no matter how he moved, the light persisted. Vladimir let out a soft sigh as he sat up on a patch of dead grass. It was already starting to itch. He tucked a stray tuft of black hair behind his left ear. He could see the apple tree in the distance. Its leaves almost touched the horizon. He squinted his eyes to take a better look at it. Knowing that it would always be there as long as he never got too close was comforting.
"I haven't seen you here before!", a child shouted. She hopped on one foot towards him.
"Stay away!", Vladimir shouted back making the girl freeze in place.
"Why?", she shrugged oblivious.
"Stay away from me or I'll hurt you!", this time he threatened her.
The girl scratched the back of her hair then twirled her fingers around one of her long pigtails.
"I want to be your friend!", she smiled completely unaware of the danger she was in.
Vladimir felt his heart tumbling in his chest. But he knew. He was now finally old enough to understand that he couldn't have friends.
He dragged his feet along the beaten path, following the dozens of footsteps that people had left behind way before he did. He ignored the girl's pleads for him to stop and moved up his pace. If he could get away fast enough she was sure to give up at some point. As they all did. He sprinted all the way to his home. After all, he didn't like the way people were looking at him. And keeping interactions as short as possible was the only way.
"I'm back!", the boy shouted as he wiped his feet on the old rag.
He was greeted by nothing but silence but it didn't matter anymore. He was already used to it. A sense of relief grew within him when he realized he was alone.
But the peace wouldn't last for too long. This was merely truce.
"Get away! Now!", his father ordered him as soon as he set foot into the small shack. Vladimir stared in disbelief. It took a while before he actually started to move towards his usual hiding place. Staying in the same room for too long was a risk his father was not willing to take.
He lifted the wooden trap door just like he had done hundreds of times before. If not thousands. He hopped into the cellar only to land on the dump floor with a loud thump. After a few seconds he heard the door clang against metal.
"How was your day father?", he cupped his hands and shouted in his boyish voice.
"Same as always", grunted the man.
Vladimir nodded despite the fact that his dad couldn't see him. He heard heavy footsteps on the ceiling before they finally stopped.
"I'm going to fix something up to eat", said the older man in a hoarse voice.
"I'm good", replied Vladimir. He couldn't hear it, but he could have sworn there was a sigh of appeasement as a reply.
The child crawled to the other side of the small cellar, fumbling in the darkness. His fingers felt cold as he touched the half-melted candles and lit one up. Then another one. And another one. Till the room was as bright as the sun that was blazing torridly outside. He allowed himself a small smile. A soft blanket was placed on the floor. Vladimir picked it up and curled up in a ball. He didn't even realize he was already fast asleep, the moment his head was pressed against the hay pillow.
When he'd opened his eyes again, the world just wouldn't be the same.
There was loud knocking on his trap door.
"Vladimir!", his father was yelling his name repeatedly.
The boy barely had time to rub his eyelids as he replied with a simple "yes" still half asleep.
"Did you go to the fields?", he sounded angry. And the boy's reply wouldn't help him calm down in the least.
"Why did you go there?", his father asked. There was a twinge of guilt in Vladimir's stomach. For the first time, the man who had raised him didn't sound angry. Just disappointed.
"I'm sorry father", he whispered but the man heard him loud and clear.
"The fields are dead Vlad", he retorted back. "Every single crop and every single fruit is rotten to the core".
The child swallowed hard. But I was so careful..
"I'm sorry father", this time he shouted. There was a loud thud like someone had just punched the wooden floor.
"Stop. Calling me that".
The boy didn't know what to say so he just remained silent.
"What you've done.. They'll be coming for you. And I won't do anything to stop them this time".
More footsteps made Vladimir's ceiling creak against his father's weight. The boy blew out a candle whose flame was almost touching the ground.
There was sudden commotion on the floor above him. People were talking all together. People were yelling. Vladimir couldn't make out the words. But out of all these voices, he was sure that his father's was a silent one.
"He's an abomination!", a deep voice conquered all the others. "We have tolerated this.. thing for way too long"!
He could imagine his father's head dangling between his shoulders in shame. He thought his eyebrows would be knitted together and his grey eyes could pierce his soul, even if he hadn't seen the man's face in years.
And why would he want to even lay eyes on his son? He was a monster. All his life, that was all he had known.
He wished he could have met with his mother. And see her face. He had always imagined her to be beautiful. Not dashing like the princesses and the elves in the fairytales and the myths, but she would no doubt have a kind smile. He knew that in his heart. She could have been a good mother. If only she had had the time to actually be one. If only she had been lucky enough to give birth to a good son. A son that his father could be proud of.
But reality was very different. He was born with a curse. Him being simply alive was a peril to everyone around him. They made him walk in front of them. Almost a mile away from the angry mob that was keen on destroying him for good. They were just too scared of the curse to get any closer.
Their plan was simple. Appease the gods and get their blessings again, so that their fields would become fertile and rich. The villagers had had enough of the butcher's prodigal son. It was finally time for divine judgement.
Vladimir felt nothing as he kept up a steady pace. Mentally prepared to meet his maker. He wondered what would happen next. He liked the idea of an afterlife as much as the next person despite the fact that his brain told him how ridiculous it sounded countless of times.
His mind was elsewere when he heard an angry swarm of people chant something as he was being tied to a wooden slab. He didn't bother to resist. The sooner this ended the better it was for everyone.
The moon was painted red in a lilac sky. Vladimir closed his eyes calmly as the voices grew louder and louder around him. Their faces were covered with black masks.
Were there really any gods to appease to begin with? The boy pondered as the pious people held their axes, rakes and pitch forks tightly. As if they were hungry for blood.
He felt a cold gust of wind on his exposed body parts. He shuddered as his arm hair stood upright. There was thunder.
Vladimir was already prepared to have the wrath of the sky fall down on him. And it did.
He opened his eyes and saw a man with a black hood hovering above him.
At first he didn't understand. Only when he pulled back the blade off of him and he saw the blood gushing out from his body did the boy realize that he'd been stabbed to the chest. His whole body started to tingle when the man pushed the knife back onto his torso.
The heat was unreal. He'd never felt such intense warmth as this while red blood was oozing out from his fresh wounds. He coughed faintly. He could sense some sort of liquid dripping from his mouth.
The heat he'd felt before was turning into severe cold as more and more blood escaped his frail body.
The man raised both of his hands into the air while still clutching the knife. The child closed his eyes shut as soon as his final motion began. And then there was nothing. Neither warmth, nor cold.
Vladimir didn't exist anymore.
"Pitiful", a deep voice broke the newly found nothingness. "Noone mourns you boy. Get up".
Vladimir opened his eyes. He was still tied to the slab but he wasn't the same anymore. His fingernails had gotten longer than before. His long black hair had turned white. His complexion pale. He lifted his chin to examine his open wounds. Despite the rips in his clothes, his skin looked intact. He saw a large scythe cutting the ropes in his wrists.
A man with with horns and metal armor looked at him with pity. The boy took a look around only to be met with his aspiring executioners' corpses surrounding him. Their skin was dug in. Their eyes turned to white marbles. Like they had been drained of all blood. Vladimir licked his lips. His mouth felt dry. His throat sore.
"Are you.. god?", the boy asked the horned creature.
"I'm a Darkin, boy. Not a god. But close enough", he let out a disturbing chuckle.
"What did you do them?", Vladimir questioned him as he got up with slow movements. His feet were bare.
"I didn't do anything. You did", the Darkin retorted casually. Vladimir could feel the panic nesting in his heart. He wanted to scream.
"Get away from me Darkin! You'll get hurt too!", he could hear his own voice crack at the weight of his words.
There was no turning back anymore. Now he was truly beyond redemption. But the Darkin got down on one knee and grabbed the frightened boy by the hand.
"You have a gift boy", he spoke in all seriousness.
"This.. is not.. This is a curse", Vladimir whispered all that he knew.
But the Darkin smiled at him as he tenderly lifted his chin.
"You have a knack for blood magic", he paused.
"Vladimir", the boy finished the man's sentence.
"Vladimir", the Darkin spoke the name as if he was getting a taste of it in his mouth. "Come with me".
He extended his arm towards the boy. The days never were lonely after he shook the Darkin's clawed hand.
"How do you have access to all these spells?", Ezreal asked impressed.
"I have my ways", Ekko responded cockily as he handed the three of them the TPs.
"So we just teleport to Noxus?", Jayce clutched his hextech hammer.
"Don't tell me you're already getting cold feet boy-genius", Katarina chimed in as she rubbed the scar in her eye.
"Ofcourse not".
"All I'm saying is you can still back out", she shrugged indifferently.
"No way I'm missing this", Jayce responded with fervor. "I've made certain adjustments to this", he gestured over to his weapon. "I like to see this a testing field trip", he said proudly.
"Well, you do know you might die, right? But on the other hand, that's not my problem".
"Oh come on.. You gotta see the big picture here DuCuteau", Jayce started. "If we succeed here, people are gonna call us heroes. I can already see the headlines", he raised his arms like he was creating an invisible sign "Jayce, the defender of tomorrow.. You gotta admit it has a ring to it"!
Katarina simply rolled her eyes.
"Buckle up boys! And girl", Ekko chuckled as the four of them activated their teleports.
It feels like the stars have fallen down on me. There is nothing. Even if the sky turns to stone it doesn't matter to me. Nothing matters. Nothing but the blood moon. There is no heaven up there. And no hell awaits for me either. Why should I fight? Who should I fight for? Myself? That's hilarious. There's nothing in here. Only water. And the sound of my own heartbeat.
Kayn was slowly being submerged in the well. And right now he was at the very bottom. Starting to accept his destiny. After all, God was never on his side. And at the moment, it was only starting to sink in. He was trapped in a small cage. Yet he could breathe with no problems at all. Even if small bubbles escaped his chapped lips.
I'm literally nothing but a burden to everyone around me. His dark, long hair were floating in the water.
He couldn't control his body. Not anymore. But his mind.. That was a rather sad story. He would really rather not to think. Not to be able to feel at all. There was a gaping hole in his heart every time he recalled Ezreal and Zoe's terrified expressions at that goddamn bar. But he was a killer. What good would it be to deny it right now? He would only be hiding behind his finger. All his life that was all he knew. Kill or be killed. That was all he was good at.
And boy was he tempted. The moment he touched that damn scythe. But in his eyes it looked beautiful. More than any weapon he had ever laid eyes upon. He felt it. He felt the power flowing through his body the moment he made that pact with the demon.
"Will you prove worthy?", Rhaast had asked him back then. And he had proven himself stupid enough to respond cockily to him and agree without ofcourse bothering to read up the terms and conditions.
His hand was immediately corrupted. But no. He was strong enough to deal with some puny demon. He was the great Shieda Kayn after all. Nothing would stop him. Or so he thought.
With a hollow heart and a defeated spirit he watched as a hooded figure appeared before him. Why do I feel like I've been here before?
Everything looked familiar. From the water, to the cage, to the hooded man. It felt like he was in a dream he'd seen before. The man walked closer to him. He was holding a blue, hard-cover book. Kayn thought he'd seen it before but he couldn't remember where.
The man opened the book and paced around him. His long, black cloak made the soil beneath crumble as he walked. Particles of sand started to float around the cage. He stopped right in front of him once he had made a full circle.
"Don't worry. I will free you", the man with the white eyes said. Man? He looked more like a boy. They could be the same age. A glimmer of hope started to light up in Kayn's heart. "Rhaast".
Kayn would have gulped and sighed in fear and disappointment right there and then. But he couldn't. For Rhaast was the master of this body. And Shieda Kayn.. He was nothing but a small voice in the back of his head. He could barely even hear himself if he was honest. Because Shieda Kayn didn't exist anymore. He had no family to seek him anyway. As far as he was concerned no one would bat an eye even if he actually ceased to exist alltogether.
The water pressure started to feel overbearing as the man started to read from a passage in his book. It was a tongue he'd never heard of before. And for some reason, he felt that he shouldn't be hearing it.
Fear started to take over him. He wanted out. He wanted to scream and wail and break through this fucking cage and this useless body. But he was powerless. Rhaast had promised him power. But this. This was far from what he expected back then. Why did this have to happen now?
Ezreal and Zoe's faces flashed before his eyes for a second. Water currents started to become more fierce. Like he was in the middle of a vortex.
He looked at the boy who was chanting loudly. His voice was surprisingly deep. But maybe it was because of all of this water.
He thought he heard other voices chanting alongside him. Like a choir.
His hood dropped to his shoulders. He had short, white hair and porcelain, pale skin. He peeked through Rhaast's eyeholes.
Ash started to fill in the cage as his body started to burn and deteriorate making place for the Demon's rockhard skin. He watched in terror as metal material pricked through his skin and knuckles. New claws were replacing his useless human fingers.
Huge horns were now piercing through his skull. He saw his long, dark hair burn and wither within seconds. An awful stench lingered. The only remnant of his existence.
And the worst part was that he'd felt all of the pain. He couldn't breath. He felt like he was choking. He was being drowned in his own flesh. He looked up at the boy. But he wasn't there anymore.
In his place, a different man was standing.
He had the same winter-white hair but it was longer. Way too long. It reached his feet. His skin was wrinkled. His forehead covered in multiple lines. Dark circles were stealing away his white eyes' spark. His fingers were crooked with incredibly long nails. Even his voice sounded weak. He was skinny with freckles. His body looked remarkably frail. He looked like he was drowning in his cloak at this point.
But he wouldn't stop chanting in this foreign tongue.
Not until his body had been entirely Rhaast's.
Getting into the palace was admittedly easier than the four of them thought. Katarina could proparly fend off these guards on her own in a good day. Wouldn't you think that the Noxian palace would have been a bit more heavily guarded?, Ezreal wondered as he fired a mystic shot at an enemy ready to attack Ekko.
"Look out!", Ekko shouted and blinked towards him, wielding a glowing sword. Ezreal immediately ducked and let the boy save him.
The group looked at the bodies scatterred around them on the floor.
"Shouldn't there be more of them?", Ezreal said out loud this time.
Ekko looked at his wrist watch and put on his hood.
"More of them should be coming from that way right about.. now!", he leaped into the space ahead of them straight into a horde of alert guards.
Jayce fired his weapon. A glowing ball of pure hextech energy blew back three of them. Ekko squinted his eyes at him annoyed.
"Hey! Stop stealing my kills!", he yelled.
"I'm no-", Jayce tried to say but he was immediately interrupted by Katarina.
"There are more", the girl said grasping tightly at the handles of her twin daggers. They had been surrounded. "We need to get to the floor below. That's where they have my father and Luxanna", she grunted but her tone betrayed her will to fight.
"Jay-El!", shouted Ekko. "Take us below! Now"!
They all reacted like this was pre-planned. Jayce, Katarina and Ekko placed their hands on Ezreal's shoulders while clutching onto their weapons with the other one.
The faceless boy closed his eyes. He could feel the familiar sense of an arcane shift around him. But he had never attempted one this big. When he opened them he felt dizzy but he was quickly met with his companions' relieved stares. He did it.
"Luxanna!", Jayce said her name in a loud whisper, hoping that the girl would have listened to him. And the others were fast to mimic his actions.
"Ezreal?", a familiar voice answered their calls from somewhere down the hall. The four of them ran towards the source of the voice.
Luxanna was gripping onto metal bars inside a rusty jail cell. But she was there. And she was okay. Ezreal let out a sigh of relief as Jayce was destroying the heavy padlock with his hextech hammer.
"Ezreal!", Lux's blue eyes lit up then her lips turned back downwards in sorrow. "I'm really sorry Ezreal! I should have told you about Kayn.. I just thought-"
"Don't be sorry we're way past that", he interrupted her to wrap her in a heartfelt embrace.
"How did you guys get in here?", Lux asked but she was quickly taken aback by Katarina DuCuteau's horrified glare.
"..D-Dad?", the girl stuttered as she hesitantly took a step forward into the cell.
Marcus DuCuteau was sitting with his back against the wall and his lips pouted in a nervous tic. His gaze was vague. He looked tired and unclean. What's more, his once proud posture was diminished to that of an old man filled with regrets. A former shadow of who he used to be.
Katarina's finger touched her bottom lip as she froze in place. She didn't see it coming but she didn't move when she felt slim arms wrapping her from the back.
"I'm sorry Kat", Lux whispered in her ear as tears started to well up in the pink-haired girl's hazel eyes. Her lip started to tremble but she soon returned to her usual demeanor by shaking her head.
"Don't..", she whispered softly. "I'm the one responsible for this mess". Her voice was steady and clear. "Let's get out of here".
The rest of their suicide squad nodded affirmatively.
Jayce helped Katarina lift her father off the dump ground. The man didn't react to his surroundings. He was simply complying with everything without even recognizing his own daughter.
"Get Kayn first. Then we leave", Ezreal reminded them.
They kept up a fast pace, ignoring the pleading voices of all the other -admittedly scary-looking- prisoners.
He saw a lone guard standing in the next corner holding what looked like a spear. His back was facing them. Ezreal raised his hand making the rest of the group hold.
He then raised his gauntleted hand slowly. Arcane magic started to fill the air, forming a blueish light and in the end, a crossbow made out of nothing but his own mana. Ezreal used his other hand to shoot a blast of energy at the unaware guard, instantly eliminating him.
He then turned to look at Lux's parted lips. He grinned then shrugged as they moved further into the Noxian palace.
"I wish I had my staff. I could be more of help", said Lux almost out of breath as she ran alongside Ezreal. Their hands were knitted together as the two of them led the way for the others.
"Just stick with me and you'll be fine", the boy replied cockily before finishing off with "that's.. not a guarantee by the way".
Luxanna rolled her eyes but still couldn't help but smile.
They finally reached a vast room with a wolf statue in the middle. Ezreal saw white stairs in the distance.
A strange figure stood tall at the top of the staircase. Its head was crowned with two exceptionally large horns. Its skin scarlet and covered with a hard carapace material, much like an armor. And in his hands rested the Darkin scythe. Long, sharpened and dreadful. The eye was glowing ruby red. More than ever before.
"What the hell is that?", Ekko asked. The corners of his lips were turned downwards like he ate some bad food that he was too polite to spit out.
"We're too late", Ezreal replied as the blood moon was offering its alien-like glow through the window, lending the room a terrifying appeal.