"Let go you fucking shadow!"
Ezreal yanked his leg free from the grasp of a shadow that had randomly popped out of the rough stone ground. The veil of darkness surrounding the Isles did little to help the Champion identify the shadows which seemed to be never resting, always hungry for his flesh.
"Shit!" He cursed again as a hammer of smoke nearly bashed his head in.
Quickly activating his gauntlet, Ezreal teleported some distance away from the shadows, trying to buy some time. But no matter how fast he ran or how much he teleported; the shadows would always find him.
Just what had he been thinking?!
Ezreal knew that he was one of the weakest champions because he borrowed powers from a gauntlet instead of owning them himself like all the other champions did. This was precisely the reason why Ezreal had always avoided battle, instead spending time to research all kinds of artifacts lost in unknown places by beings that had lived centuries or millennia before humans had even sat foot on this earth.
He had been delighted when he found a rune in the deepest part of a cave in Ixtal, its power overwhelming and its secrets many in number. He had spent month trying to figure out what this magical stone was, what it could do and why it even existed, but no amount of research had revealed anything. It was as if the rune was protected from curious people like him by something far more powerful that he could ever imagine.
This realization had caused Ezreal to stop experimenting, fearing this unknown person's wrath. But being the curious person that he was, Ezreal had taken the stone everywhere he went, hoping that one day he would find someone or something that could help him find out more about it.
His travels had eventually led him to the Shadow Isles, a rumor that an old and unique treasure was buried deep underneath the destroyed city having caught his interest. He had, despite knowing the dangers, come here to find them and study them, but now, after meeting the shadows, he would even leave the rune behind if it ensured his survival.
Everything had been fine at first. There had been no sight of anything living on the place formerly known as the blessed Isles, but the deeper he went into the city the more unsettling everything had become.
Ezreal had always been proud of his sharp instincts, but for the first time in his life, Ezreal had ignored them in favor of what he might discover here.
It had been the biggest mistake of his life.
"Fuck off!" Ezreal cursed again and ran into a closed wooden door, causing it to fly off its hinges from the force of the young man's body crashing against it.
The world suddenly grew silent, his breath and the sound of his footsteps echoing around the empty island as he continued running. He had finally gotten outside, maybe now the shadows would leave him alone. Not that he really believed that.
His small boat finally came into view, gently rocking in the waves, waiting for him.
Relieve flooded the man as he came closer to his only means of escaping, increasing his pace even more in hopes of getting out of here as fast as possible. There was no signs of shadows anywhere, only an eerie silence that followed him around, and with his mind all over the place and his escape so close, he did something that he never should have done.
He let his guard down.
If he had been more attentive, then maybe he would have noticed the darkening of the surroundings. Maybe he would have noticed the shadow veil becoming slightly thicker, and maybe he would have even felt the presence of a fellow champion right behind him.
Only through instincts born from years of exploration and through the blessing of a champion did Ezreal dodge the huge sword by a hair's breadth. It only so much as grazed his right shoulder, but his entire right arm immediately rotted of, becoming dust that scattered in the wind.
The horrified man had no time to scream in pain as he summoned a mana blade in his healthy hand, quickly cutting off his rotting arm at the shoulder. A second to late and Ezreal was sure that his entire body would have turned into dust as well.
Despite everything, the blonde man took a quick look over his shoulder to see who was attacking him, only to wish that he had not.
Behind him was a man. A man so pale that the moon would be jealous. A man so strong that dark magic oozed out of him in the form of dark smoke. A man with white hair and deep jade eyes that reeked of desperation and depression. A man with a huge magical sword in his hands and a man who would surely kill him without a second thought.
Ezreal had seen a lot of things on his travels over the years. He had come across many champions and monsters that had scared him shitless. He had witnessed battles between people so strong that they could kill armies in seconds, and he had found items so dangerous that he hadn't even dared to touch them. In other words, Ezreal had a lot of experience with powerful people and objects, and he instinctively knew when he was facing someone he could beat and when he was facing someone who he couldn't beat.
This person in front of him was someone that he could not beat. Not now, not in a hundred years and not even with a gauntlet hundred times more powerful that his was.
This man was simply unbeatable.
In a desperate attempt to do anything to defend himself, Ezreal took out the rune. He didn't notice that it had started glowing, nor did he notice the man's eyes widen in shock. His mind was solely focused on surviving.
So, Ezreal grasped the stone with all his might and threw it at the man, turning around and running as fast as he could.
He didn't see what happened, nor did he care, but it was enough for the demon to stop chasing him.
Hopping onto the boat, Ezreal pushed his last bit of mana into the mechanism that made it drive, not caring where he was going, and with his arm gone and his mind overloaded, it didn't take long for him to pass out.
Days later, a man who was fishing at bilgewater discovered a small boat with a half dead man laying inside of it.
And so, the story of Ezreal the cheerful explorer losing an arm and his will for discovery on the Isles of Shadows spread to every corner of Runeterra.
Cold and impassive eyes opened to see the sun peek through the thick foliage, painting the forest in beautiful colors and signaling the arrival of a new day.
Birds chirped and danced between the lush trees, and animals went on their marry way to wander through the peaceful forest.
It truly was a stunning sight, but the eyes saw nothing of that.
The eyes which belonged to a young man with brown hair didn't look at the animals around him, nor did they look at the transparent windows aimlessly floating around him. The owner of those eyes couldn't care less about any of that.
Narlou stood up, turning to face the graves where his two now dead friends resided.
Millions of thoughts rushed trough his mind, but he eventually just shook his head.
"Rest in peace."
The man turned away, not being able to bear the sight of his friends' graves any longer and started walking without any place in mind.
He walked and walked, meeting all kinds of curious looking animals that would have normally intrigued him, but he didn't even notice them. He only willed his legs to keep walking, fearing that he would fall to the ground and never stand up again if he didn't keep walking.
The lifeless red eyes gazed at the sky, hoping to find something, anything that would distract him from his thoughts, but there was nothing that could tear his thoughts away from what he had done.
He had considered killing himself multiple times during his walk, but he didn't dare to do so. Not because he was afraid, but because he owed it to Sonya and Ethron.
He had to keep living, even if everyone would want him dead. Even if he himself wanted to die.
It was his only opportunity to make amends, to seek forgiveness, and he didn't dare to throw that away.
No, he would not kill himself.
So, Narlou kept moving, walking and walking until the sun went down again, every step feeling heavier than the previous one.
He eventually glanced at the windows in hopes that they could distract him, but he felt nothing when he read that he had leveled up 28 times, that he had gained 5 rank points and that those didn't have a timer this time.
He felt nothing when he read that he had surpassed level 100, that his mana had become denser and that more powerful beings were aware of him.
He felt nothing when the system told him that he could now learn every type of rare magic, and he felt nothing when the system told him that he had completed the quest, putting a key in his inventory.
Narlou only shortly looked at the new quest that appeared when he got the key.
Quest Alert!
You have received an ancient key that can open the door of someone very powerful.
Objective: Find and free the person who is hidden somewhere in Navori.
Either kill or befriend the person.
Reward: ?
So, with nothing left to do, Narlou kept walking, fighting against his own mind the whole time.
-1 week later-
His mind had eventually stopped torturing him with thoughts, and Narlou was eternally grateful for it, though he was still plagued by horrible nightmares each night.
He had also started interacting with the animals around him, helping whenever an animal got hurt or just sitting by a tree, waiting for them to approach him so he could pet them.
It calmed his mind, and it made him feel more present, more alive.
He had also continued his journey through Ionia's large forest, but he had yet to meet anyone that was not an animal. He felt at peace knowing that he could hurt no one like that, but how was he supposed to make amends like that?
He perked up from where he sat on top of a little hill. The wind had carried a silent voice to his location, his sharp senses immediately telling Narlou where it came from.
He almost ran there without a second thought, but he hesitated. He could cause more trouble that help with his presence, plus he had no idea what was going on in the first place.
It could just be some random travelers that were exploring the forest for all he knew.
Still, Narlou was a human despite all his power, and humans craved interaction.
It wouldn't hurt to just watch what was going on, right? He didn't even need to intervene if there was no need to.
Within a second of finishing that thought, Narlou jumped up and ran towards the noise, speeding through the forest faster than the eye could track.
When he arrived though, he didn't know what to do.
Some distance away from him, far enough that they would not spot him and close enough that he could see them, stood two young looking teens, maybe just a few years younger than himself.
Both of them had long dark-bluish hair, but one was wearing it in a braid and the other one was having it fall down his back.
Narlou could immediately tell that these two were brothers.
They were standing next to two large wooden doors that were flanked by walls on both sides.
'probably a village.' Narlou thought, having heard that Ionia had lots of those random tribes scattered all over the nation.
In front of those two brothers stood an older looking person whose aged and scarred face showed nothing but disgust.
Narlou frowned.
Only upon closer inspection did he notice that the one with the open hair seemed to be wounded, if the smell of blood and the pale skin was anything to go by.
Sadly, the wind had changed directions again, so if Narlou wanted to hear what they were talking about, he had to move closer.
A quick suppression of his magic later, Narlou was closing in on the three people. He had no idea who the older man was, so he wasn't sure how close he could go before the man would sense him, but the guy didn't seem to be in the right mind to pay attention to his surroundings anyway, instead focusing on shouting at the children.
Only this time, Narlou could hear what they said.
"No! You disgraced our tribe and still have the guts to ask for refuge?! Do you brats honestly think that any of the villagers will welcome you here ever again?!"
Narlou's eyes narrowed, and his instincts were screaming at him to intervene, but he still didn't really know what was going on. Maybe the kids really were in the wrong and the elder's anger was justified.
"B-but Master, even if you won't allow us back in the village, at least let a healer treat my brother!"
Narlou could hear that the boy's voice was close to tears, filled with silent pleas and desperation, causing a familiar feeling to slowly bubble up in Narlou's chest.
"How dare you demand a healer when you left our country to die like this?! Have we not already given you enough? You are supposed to be at the frontlines of the war, yet you are here at my gates just because of a small injury?! You are out of your mind, kid!"
Narlou hands shook, and his knuckles turned white as he just barely held himself back from rushing in to beat the living shit out of this guy. Those kids didn't look a day older than 15, yet he send them in the frontlines to fight against superhumans like himself?
"He will die! P-please…"
Narlou stilled, and time seemed to slow down. A deeply rooted fear quickly spread through his stomach like acid once he registered those words.
The way they were spoken with such helplessness and despair, the way the young boy's voice shook with sadness.
It sounded exactly like Sonya before he-
Narlou shook his head. He had already accepted what happened, but he still didn't like thinking about it.
Focusing back on the kids and the man, Narlou noticed movement coming from the man's hand, and his eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
It was time to move.
Wind rushed past Narlou as he sprinted towards the kids at full speed, and before the hand could reach the young teen's face, Narlou grabbed the arm with the strength of a hundred men, barely holding himself back from crushing it completely.
"What do you think you are doing?"
It was spoken with all the calmness that Narlou could manage, but the threat behind his words were crystal clear.
"This has nothing to do with you. Get lost."
Narlou noticed with weak interest that the man resisted his pressure almost perfectly, the only indication that he even felt it being his eyes darting between his hand and his face.
'He is not weak.'
"Get a healer before I make you get one."
Narlou made sure to let his control over his mana suppression slip for just a second, and the man went stiff. Still, he didn't move, only staring at Narlou defiantly.
"I-it's alright." A meek voice said from behind Narlou.
He turned around, and his eyes widened.
Now that he was closer, he could actually see just how bad the other brother's wound was.
Dried blood stuck to his leg and a purple crust had already begun to cover the wound. The boy looked even paler than before with bloodshot eyes and big dark circles under them, showing that he had not gotten any sleep the last few days. His form was hunched, and his skin seemed almost ghostly.
Narlou felt bile rise up in his throat.
Those were kids for god's sake!
"D-don't say that! Please help us, sir!" The healthier brother shouted with tears in his eyes, turning to Narlou with a look that begged for any kind of support.
Narlou turned to the man again, his eyes alight with fire.
"Last chance, old man. Get. A. Healer."
Narlou let some enhancement magic flow into his hand, pressing down harder. The old man visibly winced, and finally turned to face the gates.
"GET A HEALER IMMEDIATELY!"
Not a moment later, the big doors opened slightly, just enough to let an older woman through.
"Heal him." The man said, pointing at the injured brother's leg with a disgusted expression.
The woman didn't seem too keen on doing so, but she did it anyways, kneeling on front of the kid as her hands emitted a green aura.
Narlou stared at the procedure carefully, making sure that she was doing her job right, and after some agonizing minutes, the healer stood up again.
"Done."
Narlou gazed at the work, and the kid did indeed seem much healthier than before. The purple hue surrounding the wound had disappeared, the wound itself had become smaller and the boy's skin tone had turned back to a less ghost-like color.
The man turned to Narlou, who had let go of his arm when the woman came.
"Satisfied?"
Narlou smiled, taking pleasure in the man's frustration.
"Yes. Let's go kids."
He didn't wait another moment and picked both of them up with ease, smiling as they yelped in surprise.
A big jump into the air later brought them out of sight from the village, and Narlou let the kids down again.
A sudden thought came to his mind and he stilled.
'I just kidnapped two children, didn't I?'
The fear was immediately washed away though as he saw the amazed expression of both kids, their big eyes full of admiration.
"T-thank you so much!" the one with the braid said, bowing down deeply.
"Yes. Thank you very much, sir! May we know your name?" The second one said, his voice much less meek than before.
Now that he spoke, Narlou noticed that he seemed older, more reserved and even respectful. He had to be the older brother of the two.
"I'm Narlou. Sorry for just taking you away, if you want I can bring you b-"
"NO!" Both kids immediately shouted.
Narlou smiled happily.
"So, what are your names?"
"I'm Yasuo, and this is my older brother Yone!" The younger kid said, his voice as proud as it could be.
"We are both amazing swordsmen, though I'm a bit better than him." Yasuo continued, pointing at Yone as he said those words.
Only now did he notice the swords that hung at both their hips, swinging slightly with every movement.
Said older brother just laughed affectionately, and Narlou felt relieve spread through him.
They both had gained a shine in their eyes, something that they didn't seem to have before.
"But we are seriously thankful for your help just now. We don't want to be a burden, so we will go on our way soon. If there is anything we can do to repay you, please say so." The older brother said in a voice way to formal for Narlou's liking.
"I don't need any payment. I didn't save you to receive anything from you, so don't worry your cute little head about it."
Narlou loved the way Yone huffed as he ruffled through his very soft hair.
"Do you guys know where you will be going?"
The silence that followed from both of them told him everything he needed to know, and another smile took over his face.
"Do you want to stay with me? I can take care of you until you have found something better."
"Y-you would really do that for us?" Yasuo asked, his eyes wide with excitement and happiness.
"Of course! I can even teach you a thing or two about fighting if what you said about you being swordsmen was true."
"Yone! This is amazing!"
The older brother smiled.
"It indeed is. Thank you very much, Sir Narlou."
"No worries! and stop calling me sir! It makes me feel old."
"Okay, sir!"
Narlou's gaze snapped towards Yasuo who just smiled innocently at him.
"You little-!"
The chase that followed would forever stay in the brother's memories as the start of a much better life.
Akali looked upon the battlefield with tired eyes from where she stood on a tree branch.
It was a lost cause.
They had retreated the night the Noxians had secretly invaded their camp, not being able to win against the overwhelming power of their enemy and had met up with the more northern army led by Irelia.
They, too, had to retreat after the Noxian champion Kled had joined the battle, and here they were now, losing the last and biggest battle of the Noxian invasion.
"It is time for us to leave, Akali. We have tried our best, but it is clearly not enough." The deep and calm, always calm voice of her master Shen said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She wanted to stay though.
Not because of their falling homelands or anything like that.
No, she wanted to stay to find Narlou.
After the last battle before they retreated, Akali had not spotted Narlou even once. It was as if the ground had swallowed him up.
At first, she thought that he had died, but she couldn't find a trace of both his body or his mana. That only left her to suspect that he had ran away.
She didn't delude herself into thinking that she could somehow find him. Ionia was massive, and it had already been a week since then, but she felt like staying nonetheless, hoping that maybe, just maybe Narlou would come back to the army.
"Akali?"
The young champion let her gaze fly over the battlefield one last time before turning around.
"Yes. Let's leave."
She would not find Narlou.
Akali could only hope that fate would allow them to see each other again.
"Why are you doing this?" Irelia said as she stood in front of Riven and Kled.
Blood was dripping out of multiple wounds, her body looked battered, and exhaustion was slowly taking over her body.
"Because it's fun! Isn't that right, Skaarl?"
The animal made a sound that Irelia didn't bother trying to interpret, instead focusing her eyes on the less insane person.
"I don't give the orders; I just follow them."
Irelia shook her head. What had she been expecting from the Noxus-obsessed champion?
"Be a puppet of Boram if that's what you desire, but I will keep fighting until I'm dead!"
No matter how stubborn she had been at the council meeting to take the position of a leader, Ionia was still her nation of birth and the lands she loved. The shadow Isles would have to freeze over before she allowed those heartless Noxians to kill innocent Ionians when there was something she could do about that.
"Let's wrap this up, Kled."
The little warrior didn't need any other affirmation and charged at Irelia with a battle cry that pierced the sky, Riven hot on his trail.
The battle that followed was brutal and sad at the same time.
Irelia only managed to survive as long as she had through sheer will power and luck.
More wounds accumulated on her already beaten body, and the exhaustion was just one step away from taking over her body. And then, as she was fighting for her life and the future of Ionia did Irelia fall unconscious, just barely being aware of a person catching her falling body.
Everything went black after that.
Lee Sin dashed through the forest with the unmoving body of Irelia in his arms, passing other fleeing Ionians left and right.
The remaining troops had fled into the forest in hopes of outrunning the crazy Noxians, and Lee could only hope that this was the case for them.
He could not help them, as he was using his last energy to carry the unconscious champion back to the capital, but he dearly hoped for his fellow Ionians to make it our alive.
They had lost, well and truly lost.
Only a miracle could help them now, but Lee had never been one to believe in miracles.