"Aatrox? Wasn't he free to go wherever he wanted?" Taric asked. He was a bit surprised to learn that it was Aatrox who scared Tryndamere. After all, the barbarian had faced off against the daemon a few times, and was able to achieve victory. A few times though. Being the man he was, Tryndamere had almost no chances versus the aspect of war, because of Aatrox' ability to steal from his opponent's vitality, which made him a master of surviving close calls. His blood well was also a task to overcome.
"He was, until we faced off in a battle situated on my lands. He challenged me, telling that he was superior. Happily, there was no war then, and when we fought, it was clear that I had the upper hand. He lost, and was forced to become a slave of mine for ten years. And he became a slave. I was surprised that he didn't run off as fast as Ashe died, but he said he was true to his word. That he held to his honor. When the ursine were ambushed, he became incredibly powerful. The pain he inflicted to me in a duel we had was immense. Just one strike, and I was to my knees. But he didn't attempt to take my life, for he was truly a honorable man. Or thing..." Tryndamere explained. It was truly an interesting thing.
Taric stood up and dusted his knees off. Extending his hand to the barbarian king, he offered him help to stand up. Tryndamere gladly accepted it.
"Come, let's find the tomb and see if Aatrox is going to be a challenge to me." Said the gem knight and waited, so Tryndamere could take the lead. After an hour, they reached a grim visage.
The once proud and high castle of the Avarosans was spilled all over the snow, some parts covered by it, others not so much. But one thing was visible. A giant hole in the ground, which emitted an orange glow. They walked slowly towards it, their eyes tracing their surroundings. Well, at least Taric did so. His eyes scanned the whole area, and using some of his magic, he was able to detect only one source of life - from the hole.
They entered, Tarc leading now. His blade was unsheathed, his shield at the ready. When they started descending the stairway, he was surprised to find out that a fire was in the middle of it, and the all too familiar figure of the aspect of war slept next to it. His body looked unusually fragile in the dim light of the camp fire. At least that is how he looked without the blade which he usually wielded with him. Now, it rested next to the wall. When Tryndamere made another step, it sounded painfully loud.
That is when the blade flew to Aatrox' open hand, who leaped at lightning speed towards Taric. Blocking the blow with his shield, the gem knight tried to counter attack, but the aspect was too fast for him. Twisting his body in an unnatural way, Aatrox attempted to hit him again. Yet the gems did their job, disabling almost all of his power, which resulted in a simple poke for the knight to feel. Another attempt, but Taric was able to move his sword on the way of the strange weapon Aatrox used. Thinking he would be able to counter attack after this, the gem knight threw all of his strength in a meeting the blade with the lower part of his sword, planning on making Aatrox' weapon to slide down, allowing Taric to make a wide swing which could turn the battle in his favor.
That was a mistake, he understanded a second later. The third strike of Aatrox' attacks was always enchanted with so much more power, that it was almost painful to block. Happily, Taric's strength only srved good for the knight, allowing him to take the blow without falling back.
Aatrox leaped a few feet backwards, inspecting his opponent. Taric did the same, and also tried to remember a few things of the fighting style which the aspect used. Then, he remembered. If he was able to dazzle his opponent, the battle will end. But sadly, Aatrox probably knew of his own weaknesses and tried to keep his distance.
Making a beautiful rainbow with his sword, two slashes, mimicked by power which erupted from the blade, flew towards Taric. He couldn't block them, so they hit him hard. He hardly acknowledged them, because the emeralds under his breast plate started working hard on restoring his strength. They circled each other, waiting for a mistake in the other's movement.
"Taric, I couldn't recognize you!" Aatrox said, a sadistic grin on his face. "Hardly anyone can recognize you without that pink armor..." The aspect explodes in laugher. It was really easy to understand that he was mocking Taric. Trying to make him lose his control. To make the wrong move. But Taric knew better. He kept circling.
"Wait, why aren't you wearing the pink armor again? Don't tell me, Ezreal doesn't like it anymore!" More laugher and teasing. Taric was thinking. Hardly, he couldn't zone the warrior. But if he made Aatrox think that his control was slipping away... Yes! That was it. He was going to trick Aatrox into attacking, getting closer to the gem knight so he could make it quick and painful.
A grin of anger and hatred appeared on his face, fully fake. A silent roar grinded up against his throat. Aatrox lost the smile and focused again. Taric got him in the trap. Making a step forth, the gem knight made a movement that was enough to throw Aatrox at him.
"Got'cha!" Was all Taric said before mauling the aspect's head with the shield. Aatrox' face was almost blown away, fully covered in blood. His jaw and nose broke instantly.
Taric was swift. Making gems to appear out of thin air, he reformed his sword into the trademark hammer. Mauling the earth, he cracked it. This sent forth a pulse of clean power, which almost got Aatrox down to his face, while it empowered Taric greatly. The gem knight's weapon flew towards Aatrox' right shoulder, crushing it with force rivaled only by Darius' guillotine.
A cry of agony shook the tomb. Aatrox was screaming, all of his honor gone. He was now just like a little girl, which had cut its fingers. But Taric wasn't over yet. Ordering the crystal which had surrounded him to shatter, he sent forth hundreds of shards which stabbed the aspect more than sixty - seventy times. Aatrox fell to the ground, attempting to rise again, but his knees were shattered to dust by the power of Taric's mighty blows.
It was over. The gem knight had won. It was as he predicted. Only one stun was enough to get Aatrox out of the way. Taric took a deep breath and sighed. Tryndamre looked as if he was slapped with a wet pice of cloth.
All of a sudden, a red light surrounded Aatrox. He rose to his knees which had started healing, then fully stood up. The sword flew right to his hand. The image of his face was not a sight anyone would be eager to see, but anger was clear on it. Lifting his sword in the air, he screamed.
"WITNESS TRUE POWER!" Which was followed by instant infliction of pain to Taric. Aatrox leaped in the air and started flying, while the sword in his hand became a blur of red and black. The gem knight was defenceless. Aatrox' blows were filled with hatred, and were sent with one only purpose. To kill. Taric knew that he still had the edge, but was pushed off of it really quickly. The knight wasn't going to die, that was for sure. But he might have just lost that battle, forgetting about the ability of Aatrox to leave death staring at him with eyes filled with surprise.
Then, as fast as he had risen in the air, Aatrox fell to the ground. A huge blade was poking out of his back, situated right at the point where his heart was. Probably. Tryndamere looked at Aatrox, who was coughing his own blood. He was actually drowning in it.
"Tryndamere..." He managed to whisper between his coughs. "...My greatest... Creation!" Those were his last words. He kept coughing for about a minute, and didn't seem to be going anywhere with his death, so the barbarian took his sword out of the aspect and with one swift motion he cut his head off. It bounced a little before falling still on the ground. Someone would have found this fun, but for Taric it was tragic.
"I-I will go to the other part of the crypt. There are two. The left is Volibears, and the right is... You probably can understand by yourself." Tryndamere whispered. He slowly stuttered towards the right entrance. Taric looked at the man, who had lost everything after gaining the ultimate peace. That man was a picture of pure sorrow. He didn't even take his sword from the ground, where it had fallen. His head was down, while his shoulders were lowered to a level Taric couldn't say was possible.
He noticed that the garments he wore were his royal ones. Not the usual hide skirt. Those were the blue and white robes of the king of the Freljord. He only listened now. Taric only listened, although he knew what was going to happen. And there it was, the screech from an opening sarcophagus. Then the heavy footsteps of a man jumping over something. And at last, the sarcophagus closed, devouring Tryndamere and his love...
Forever.