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Chapter Six: The First Summoning

The day before my First Summoning was a weekend, and it was then that I decided to bite the bullet and delve into the Institute's gossip network. I shivered just thinking those words, but there was approximately zero chance that Lux hadn't gone and blabbed despite the lack of ribbing from other Summoners or Champions. Even my exceedingly-tiny circle of friends, who never passed up any chance to give one another some good-natured teasing, had said nothing.

The place, the person, and the price were not recorded anywhere, but word of mouth ensured the entire Institute knew. And so I made the long trek from my quarters to the only good bar to be found at the Institute and another equally-long trek to the largest greenhouse. A wave of heat washed over me as I entered, and I almost immediately started sweating. I found her exactly where I was told I would: basking on a large flat rock under several heat lamps, her tail coiled around her favorite pillow. I perched myself at the edge of the rock, placed my offering within arm's reach, and waited.

I heard the clinking of metal and long nails scraping across rock as hands closed around my payment. A high-pitched giggle, a surprisingly-dexterous tail slapping a hand, a brief protest before acquiescence. Cassiopeia held the long-stemmed glass of Noxian wine between her fingers, her tail constricting around her lover's torso as she used the tip of her tail to hold the other wineglass up to his lips. I knew of her reputation back in Noxus, but I was still having a hard time reconciling this Cassiopeia with the stony-faced and dutiful head of Intelligence. I supposed the Noxian aristocracy would have a similarly hard time: the same Cassiopeia Du Coteau who was never seen on the same arm two nights in a row, who left a long trail of broken hearts and jealous suitors in her wake, currently in a years-long relationship with—of all people—a lowborn assassin.

"Just go for it," she announced after several sips of wine.

"That...wasn't what I wanted to ask..." I muttered.

"It's the answer you needed to hear, though," the lamia countered as she laid back on her coiled tail, "But if you want to be boring and ask that: yes, but nobody believes you'd have it in you to be that daring."

I was torn between relief and annoyance.

"I almost feel bad charging you my normal rate. You want my advice? Be direct. You flout so many other Ionian traditions, but somehow, you're even more reserved when it comes to courtship," Cassiopeia shook her head in amusement as she leaned forward to lie prone on the rock, "She's older than most nations, Johann; she's probably seen it all at this point. You could dance around for months and figure out some grand gesture, or you could just go up to her after your First Summoning and ask her to have a drink with you. I'll even tell you where you can get a nice bouquet of Noxian Reds if you really want to go all-out."

The gears in my head seized up.

"This isn't Ionia. This is hardly even Valoran. There's a reason the Institute's rules around these sorts of things have always been as lenient as they are. Or did you already forget that Blitzcrank's dating service was shut down because of unauthorized use of teleporter pads rather than, say, matching Champions with Summoners?"

I'm still not completely sure if the Fleshling Compatibility Service was real or just an elaborate hazing ritual by the older members of the Institute. The name 'Pairing Eligibility Reactor of Valoran" seemed a bit too self-parodying.

"So," I threw myself backwards onto the rock, "Where can I get those Noxian Reds?"


I took a deep breath as I stared at the chamber doors. A First Summoning was a small but solemn ceremony, an affirmation and test of the magical contract that bound Summoner and Champion. I made a few final adjustments to my ceremonial Institute of War robes and pushed the double doors open.

The chamber within was dark, but I strode ahead already know what to expect. Back straight, eyes ahead, and hands bunched into fists to hide the nervous shaking. I had already memorized the chamber's layout, which saved my shins from the low stone table at the chamber's center. The focus crystal embedded into the dark volcanic rock glowed faintly as I knelt down before the table. I had the easy part for now.

I stared ahead at the double doors across the chamber. The aspiring Champion underwent one final trial before the First Summoning: the Judgement. I wasn't privy to the specifics, but I knew it was a magical scouring at the hands of the senior Summoners. A test of motivation, and if an aspirant failed, the stone doors would remain closed.

A bead of sweat dripped down my brow, but I dared not reach up and wipe it.

Minutes passed, and I found myself wondering if all our previous efforts were for naught.

The doors slowly creaked open, and I could see Morgana silhouetted in the doorway. Even the dim torchlight in the corridor beyond was near-blinding compared to the chamber's darkness, and I had to avert my gaze. The Institute's armorers had done a fantastic job on such short nice: her dress was replaced with a close-fitting ceremonial curiass, the curved plates at her hips holding up a royal blue skirt. I wasn't sure if the armorers had slit the skirt to her hip on their own volition or if she had convinced them somehow. A thin metal sheath covered the leading edges of her wings, and a delicate metal headpiece rested on her brow.

Grey-robed senior Summoners filed in after her, forming a ring around us as she knelt down opposite from me. A soft blue glow slowly lit up the room as the senior Summoners conjured orbs of pure magic, each the size of the crystal orbs used by uncontracted Summoners. In the low light, I spotted a few of the Summoners I had befriended—our instructor among them—standing at the back of the chamber.

"Let us begin," one of the senior Summoners announced.

Our link formed in an instant, and a familiar presence settled into my mind. Unlike the dozens or even hundreds of other times we had done this before, however, our bond was immediately seized by an unfathomably-powerful tide of magic. The senior Summoners chanted in an ancient language, using their magic to reinforce the link and weave protections into it. The enormity of this moment started to sink in: there was no turning back now. The link could be ignored, even suppressed, but once we left this chamber, there was little hope of ever truly severing it.

There was sudden clarity as I felt the floor of reality drop out from under me. The walls that protected the last recesses of my mind melted away. I felt myself pulled in a thousand different directions at once as all sense of self melted away. I was standing before the Ionian elders once again as they pronounced my exile. I was walking through an ancient forest, my twin sister at my side, uncaring of any danger that may have lurked in the dark. It was a difficult sensation to describe, but I felt that smoky taste draw closer. I could practically grasp it, but I instead subconsciously shied away. I felt some ethereal presence stop my retreat, thin fingers wrapping themselves around my forearm. I knew that both of us were magically paralyzed for this part of the ritual, but I saw Morgana shake her head, tightening her grip on my arm and she beckoned me forward.

I reached forward for that smoky taste, and suddenly I was standing in the streets of a burning city. Spears of fire rained from the skies, punching through the shields I hastily put up and leaving great carnage in their wake. I felt my fingers close around a familiar sword grip as I looked up at a golden seraph. Blades of pure radiance screamed through the air towards me, and I launched ethereal chains to intercept and shatter them.

"Kayle!" I roared, blade raised as I took flight.

"Morgana!"

The clanging of blade meeting blade, of armor colliding against flesh. I parried, slashed, and stabbed. Great arcs of magic accompanied each swing of the blade, yet none of our attacks touched one another. I heard a horribly-familiar cry of pain and anguish as our blades met for the final time. I cast my sword away and dove for the source of the scream as my dumbstruck opponent floated down after me.

"Is this what you wanted, Kayle?" I demanded through choked sobs as I cradled the old man's head, "Our own father! Did his sins deserve death?"

I received no answers from my sister. I saw her mutely pick up my discarded sword, spread her wings, and take for the heavens.

The sound of another voice pulled me out of the memory. The paralyzing spell had lifted, and I paused to wipe away the tear currently streaming down my face. I noticed Morgana mirror my action.

"The link is formed," the senior Summoner continued, unaware of the memory just shared, "The First Summoning will now commence."

I put my hands out before me, forming some magic into a glowing blue orb roughly twice as large as my closed fists. My hands swirled around the orb as I forced more and more magic through it. The arcane energies pooled into a blank block of marble, and I felt Morgana's smaller hands upon mine—even though she had not moved even once from her current position—as we began to shape the magic.

There was a Summoning pad off to my left, the magic woven into it glowing brightly against the mundane stone that surrounded it. A glowing blue beam descended from the ceiling and settled upon the enchanted stone, the soft light slowly coalescing into solid form. With a bright flash, a magical facsimile of Morgana materialized and stepped off the pad. The copy stood before the Summoners and slowly bought her arms up, balling her right hand into a fist before covering it with her open palm. Not-Morgana bent slightly at the waist in a traditional Ionian salute before dissolving back into the raw magic that composed her form.

"The First Summoning is complete," the senior Summoner announced as he presented each of us with a more elaborate Institute of War badge, "Congratulations."


Four Hours Later

Despite their name, Noxian Reds were actually purple. I held a modest bouquet of them in my hands as I made a few final adjustments to my robes. They were significantly less stifling than my formal Institute robes but still presentable. Taking a deep breath, I swung my door open and strode out into the corridor before I could convince myself to abandon this harebrained scheme. At least, that what I would have done had I not taken a single step to find myself staring into a pair of glowing purple eyes. Literally, as their owner only stood an inch or two shorter than me.

"What?" I squeaked out, instantly seizing the award for Most Intelligent Comment of the Day.

"You left your side of the link open," Morgana uncharacteristically giggled, "And you've been thinking rather loudly for the past two hours."

"Uh...I…" I stammered, immediately dethroning my previous title as what courage I mustered up abandoned me.

"Oh no, this is not one of those cheesy Ionian graphic novels," the mage growled as I took a step back, "You planned a direct attack, and now is the time to follow through."

"I...what?" I'm fairly sure my voice pitch climbed even higher as I flawlessly defended my title.

"I'm told there's exactly one good bar at the entire Institute, and I don't intend to sample it alone," she smiled as she took the bouquet, tucking one of the flowers behind her left ear before putting the rest on my little-used doorside table.

"Uh..." I could probably go for the all-Valoran Championship title by the time my brain rebooted.

I had just enough presence of mind to close and lock the door to my quarters as Morgana took my arm and led the two of us down the corridor.


A/N: The link between Summoner and Champion is trippy, no? I couldn't find much lore surrounding what exactly the link entailed, only that there was one, so I took a few liberties with the details.

For some reason, I found Blitzcrank's dating service too hilarious to not mention at least once. And, yes, I did indeed try and work in Morgana's Victorious skin. It looked pretty ceremonial to me, so I figured it would fit this instance.

There probably will be other lighter chapters going forward, but the main plot itself will be pretty serious overall.