Ezreal I
"Shurima is very different now, Ez." Father explained, his hands gesticulating in the way they often do whenever he spoke of his more exciting exploits. "Archaeologists and adventurers are being funded by the Shuriman Empire to explore the ruins of the Great Sai. Those days of scrounging for whatever scraps the University wants to give us are over."
I laughed, remembering all those times that Father and Mother complained light heartedly about the 'evil bureaucracy'. We were having a simple dinner, but times like these are the most precious. Uncle Prof Lymere is great and all, but the rare moments that my parents are home are the best.
"Does that mean I can join you on your next adventure?" I asked eagerly. Surely if an entire Empire was funding their digs, then it must be safe enough for even a fourteen year old student to join right?
Father ruffled my blonde hair with a grizzly hand.
"Hahaha, you're still too young to go traipsing around the desert, Ez. I bet your uncle still has lots to teach you."
Yeah, lots. Boring mathematics and papers and theses. Nothing like what my parents are doing in the real world.
"Besides," Father leaned in conspiratorially, "this may be the most dangerous one yet." My eyes widened.
"Really?"
Father nodded and I could even see Mother fidget beside him worriedly.
"We've unearthed hidden texts regarding the tomb of Ne'zuk." he explained. I settled in for another exciting tale of kings and warriors and legends.
"Legends say that Ne'zuk was a Shuriman tyrant who discovered a way to manipulate space and time to jump instantly from one place to another." A surprised gasp escaped my lips. That sounded like teleportation. Hundreds of scientists and professors risk life and limb every month to try and crack the code of instantaneous point to point movement. If this Nezzy person left behind even a single journal page, that would be amazing!
"That's amazing!" I leapt up onto my chair, nearly losing my balance in the process. Father held me steady as he laughed.
"It is! There are even some local Shurimans who believed that Ne'zuk managed to bring an entire mountain to life!"
Father's excitement was contagious and soon enough, even Mother was eagerly sharing what her studies unearthed.
"We've even heard that the Emperor of Shurima would be interested in whatever we found there!" she bragged. "The ramifications to the Shurima-Piltover political status would be amazing! This might be the first actual foreign alliance that Piltover would have in centuries."
Bah, politics. Can we get back to talking about the famous dead guy?
They spent the night regaling me with tall tales and folklore regarding the long dead Shuriman tyrant, interspersed with anecdotes about other famed Shuriman rulers.
Who knew that the current Emperor was thousands of years old? He must have picked up a lot of mad skills by now!
They left for their expedition the next morning. Four months later, Uncle Professor Lymere would tell me that their entire expedition team has vanished.
Jarvan the Fourth I
"For Demacia!" I leapt into battle, my lance piercing through the armor of a Noxian brute. Behind me, I could hear the thundering of the Demacian cavalry, paving the way for the shieldwalls. The sounds of clashing steel and warcries surrounded me as I carved a path through the Noxian rabble.
This was battle! This was glory! This was proof of Demacian might!
"The enemy retreats! Demacians, forward!" I rallied my loyal Demacians and they replied with thunderous roars. Lines of armored knights marched forward, their courage backed by discipline and steel.
"I will make you proud, father." I vowed as I took a breather, watching the backs of my marching soldiers. The sound of hurried footsteps caught my attention.
"Prince Jarvan!" The grizzled veteran called out, his pace brisk but not panicked.
"Lieutenant Barla! You've missed all the fun. Those filthy barbarians didn't know what hit them!" I crowed. My good cheer vanished when I saw the old soldier's face.
"News from the ranger-knights, my prince. The Gates of Mourning have fallen." That's impossible! The Gates of Morning was a fortified location that protected our southwestern border with Noxus. The sheer amount of Demacian resources and support that goes there is... formidable.
"Demacians, with me! We march for the Gates of Mourning!" My rallying cry was answered by dozens of cheering Demacians, still riding the high of our most recent victory. Barla didn't seem as enthusiastic.
"My prince! We cannot act rashly! Our forces are already spread too thin, our rangers have been risking everything bringing back only the barest scraps of information and those who are here and ready to march are still tired from the latest battle! We must hold this place as a fallback point for the soldiers retreating from the Gates!"
Foolish. We have Demacian arms and steel. We have no need to retreat. The man's age must be getting to him.
"We march, lieutenant. That's an order from your prince. Ready the men."
The man's stormy gaze reminded me of my father so much that I had to suppress the urge to fidget. There was judgment in those eyes, as if those eyes found me lacking. I clenched my fist. I am Prince Jarvan the Fourth, future king of Demacia, and I must, no, I will prove myself worthy of the title.
"Yes, my prince."
Taliyah VII
"Staying in again, Sivir?" I asked lightheartedly as I pushed the door of Sivir's study open. The poor girl has been stuck in this room for weeks now, studying up on how to actually run a city. "I brought sweetbread!"
Sivir gave me a tired frown.
"I can't handle it anymore! Ship manifests, requests for materials, job applications, crime reports, how the hell does a city governor even have time!"
I sidled up to her to take a look at the latest batch of papers she was reviewing. It was something about a scientific expedition from Piltover.
"You know what you need, Sivir? A good time outside! Let the sun shine on you every once in a while!" I quipped. I felt a seed of worry settle in my heart as she leaned into me, exhaustion emanating from her lithe frame. I could feel her bare arm pressing on my shoulder, the warmth of her breath lingering over my skin.
"Sivir?" I asked.
"I'm tired, Tali. I'm starting to think that I should have accepted the Emperor's suggestion of hiring competent help." I frowned.
"Why didn't you?" She snorted in reply.
"Pride. I was so used to taking care of myself that I thought I could do it to an entire city alone. Guess I was wrong."
Conflict brewed in my heart. I had to leave, I had to fulfill the destiny that Lord Senpai told me about, I had to master myself and be the Avatar. But I also wanted to stay and help Sivir.
"Don't you dare think about staying, you rockhead." she blurted out and I flinched. "You have a role to play in whatever demented plan Senpai had for saving the world or whatever, and this is mine."
"But-"
"No buts!"
Cracked lips, weathered by sand and scars, touched mine. Strong, calloused hands gently caressed the soft interior of my thighs before pulling back. My breath came out in gasps and I could feel the heated flush on my face, different from the external heat of the desert that I was used to.
"Wha-"
"I'll have a ship prepared to transport you to wherever you want to go. I'll leave the choice of crew to you and the captain."
I was still confused, my mind still fogged up by her touch when she stood up, leaving me on the chair and it felt so cold.
"Maybe when you return, we can have a, what did you call it? A 'good time'?"
With those words, she walked out, presumably to arrange my ship.
"Wha-"
Sona I
Demacia was still a strange place to me. The magic in the air, choked out by the sheer amount of petricite, both natural and artificial. My fingers expertly plucked the strings of my instrument, the sound echoing in the solitude of my room. I could feel the magic of the instrument - the etwahl, as mother called it - bringing peace and calm.
How could something so tranquil, something that brought people peace, be seen as a threat to be culled?
Two knocks on the door interrupted the quiet moment and I plucked a couple of strings, one that my new family in Demacia knows to mean 'come in'.
"Sona, dear." My adopted mother, Lady Lestara Buvelle, smiled at me and cupped my face in her hands. I could see the ever-present worry in her eyes, marring the brilliant kindness within. My 'status' was something that worried her, not because she was afraid of magic but because she disagreed with the mageseekers in general.
There were several reasons the Buvelle family supported the Illuminators after all. One of those was the protection of innocent mages.
Behind her was my father. A respected general in the Demacian military and a trusted adviser of the current king. Lord Barrett Buvelle. A stern man, a hardened soldier and a strict lord. Except when it comes to family...
"Sona, my dear!" He crossed the room in two large steps and engulfed me in a bear hug. I carefully set the etwahl aside and returned the hug, a smile flickering in my lips.
"Kahina has been worried about you, dear." My mother said and I merely tightened my grip on father. I've spent all my time alone in my room ever since father's announcement.
"I will be careful, daughter." Father spoke up, "It should be a simple matter to pull Prince Jarvan from the trouble he found himself in."
The tension in his muscles said otherwise, spoke volumes of how much 'trouble' my father would be wading into. I reached out and plucked one string of the etwahl with a finger. An offer.
Father pulled back, his hands firmly atop my shoulders and his stern gaze settled on my face.
"No. It is more important to keep you hidden from the mageseekers, Sona, you know this." His gaze softened. "Now come, your sister has been hiding her worry under a guise of irritability and it's getting on our nerves."