Chapter 11: Hunger

The moment they saw the godly being, they all looked up with a mix of admiration and fear. They took a step back fearfully, but Rammus stood his ground, looking at the jackal-headed god with a cool stare.

"You're kidding me," Shyvana murmured, wrapping her arms around herself. Already she felt so weak that she could barely even walk straight. She was in no condition to fight a god.

Jarvan held out his lance gallantly, though he knew that there was no way they could defeat a being that huge, let alone a being with the abilities of a god. He expected the large axe to descend at any moment, but was surprised when it did not. Instead, he studied them with a permanent glare.

"That outfit," the jackal-headed god twisted his head to the side quizzically. "You do not look like Shuriman traders… or thieves,"

"That's because we're neither of those," Jarvan said loudly, his voice almost drowned out by the howling winds.

"Speak your purpose, mortals," the god held his axe in both hands threateningly. "I can tell lies from truths. Do not deceive me,"

Jarvan lowered his lance, and gestured to his men to do the same. Rammus continued staring at the god with a blank face, and Shyvana could not tell if he was looking up at him in awe or trepidation.

"We were heading our way northeast, out of the desert," the prince used his best commanding voice, though Shyvana could detect a slight tremor in his speech. "We believed that the region east of Shurima held knowledge of sorcery, and were heading our way there –"

"Speak the truth, prince,"

"We were caught in a sandstorm," Jarvan admitted, swallowing his fear. It was difficult not to flinch when the being knew who he was, even though he had no idea how. "Then we had to find shelter, and our guide led us to an abandoned village. What we did not expect was we were attacked by a band of raiders –"

The being cleared his throat.

"We were attacked by monsters," Jarvan said quickly. "Xer'Sai, Void creatures. And no, I'm not lying,"

The jackal-headed god went silent. He crossed his arms and thought deeply, contemplating the prince's words. The men stood uneasily, like they were a bunch of criminals waiting to be tried and punished.

When the god looked up, his features were creased with a frown. Shyvana laughed internally. Those weren't the expressions that would befit a divine being capable of killing with just a lift of his finger.

"This abandoned village…" the god gripped his axe tightly. "Does it have a large bath house? And a broken sun dial?"

An image of an enormous and ruined circle appeared in the prince's mind. "Yes," Jarvan nodded.

"A bath house?" Shyvana scoffed. "You wouldn't think it's a bath house once you see what's at the bottom of the dried pool,"

"It was, once," the god's voice was nostalgic. "It was once a part of Shurima, then tragedy befell the empire. And nothing but dust and ashes was left,"

"Mayhaps I was wrong about you," the god withdrew his axe. Where there was once fury and contempt on his features was now replaced by calmness and sincerity. "Your company reeked of something evil, and what was even more suspicious was the sight of a dragon. Perhaps it was just the stench of the Xer'Sai,"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Shyvana mumbled sarcastically under her breath. If the god heard her, he paid her no heed.

"Still, what is a lost prince doing in the ruins of Shurima?"

"We're just passing by," Jarvan answered. "Though we're in a critical condition right now, water is running low and some of us are injured. We were just looking for somewhere to settle down, then we came… here,"

"I am curious," the god took a step forward, and the change was instant. One second the sands were swirling around him, and the next they were all drifted away, leaving the air still and thick. The gigantic being shrunk to several times of his own size, now only the size and height of a human, wielding a heavy-looking axe inscribed with ancient symbols and writings. Still, he stood two heads taller than Jarvan, and his physique was much more impressive.

Instead of the dark purple complexion they had all seen earlier, the jackal-headed god's skin was now a coat of light brown fur, and his Shuriman garb glimmered with brilliance beneath the stark moonlight.

"I wish to learn of your story, prince, and how you've come to acquire two extraordinary allies," his eyes drifted to Rammus and Shyvana, full of curiosity and wonder. "I've walked the earth for eons, and I have yet to encounter such beings,"

"Well, it was a long story," Jarvan muttered awkwardly.

Surprisingly, the god laughed. It was more of a deep rumble that held strength, and at the same time, serenity and friendliness. He held out his arms. "We will have plenty of time at the Oasis of the Dawn, prince. Your men can replenish their strength while you tell me your tale,"

Jarvan's face lit up with hope, and the others shared his smile. "The oasis? There's one nearby?"

"Not just any oasis," the god tapped his axe against the ground. "This is known as the Mother of Life, and its water held magical healing properties. Though it hasn't been used for thousands of years…" his voice trailed away sadly. "Nevertheless, your company will serve the oasis' purpose well, before it's dried up like the rest of Shurima,"

"Thank you," Jarvan said, still incredulous with the sudden turn of events. He bowed before the god with immense respect. "I am Jarvan IV, the Crown Prince of Demacia,"

"There is no need for modesty, prince, I was once a mortal too," the god nodded. "I am Nasus. Long ago, I was the revered Ascendant of this noble empire, alongside my brother. But now, I'm just the curator of the sands, cursed to guard the corpses of Shurima for eternity,"

Shyvana sighed with relief and ease as she sat down near the edge of a large pond. This wasn't a mirage or anything, it was a real pond, with real water.

The water, however, was shallow and Shyvana could easily see the bottom of it even though it was late night. Nasus had told them that when Shurima was at its full glory, the Oasis of the Dawn had served as the empire's first and foremost water supply, believed to have divine properties as bestowed by several other Ascendants like Nasus himself.

She looked over to where a small fire was built, providing warmth for the chilly night. Jarvan's men were all asleep by the side of the pond after refilling their water skins, but around the fire, Nasus and Jarvan sat. Jarvan told him about all they had encountered, from his meeting with the half-dragon, to their battle with the Queen of the Xer'Sai.

Rammus, apparently, was taking a dip in the oasis. Shyvana had no idea how he managed to stay afloat, but the Armordillo's limbs were flailing at the skies, his shell serving as a cushion of air with him frolicking in the water. She laughed silently at the sight.

Her gaze remained fixed on Jarvan. His cloak was wrapped tightly around him to shield him against the cold, but his long black hair was exposed. His beard had grown wild as well, giving him a dishevelled and haggard appearance. Still, Shyvana thought that he had the most comely face she had ever seen.

Everyone deserves to be treated kindly and fairly. And the same goes to you, half-dragon.

She felt conflicted. She was thankful for the prince's kindness. But she couldn't help but be wary of him. But there was another reason as well.

She was afraid of herself. She remembered how she had unwillingly caused the death of three young lads, who thought they were doing the world a justice by capturing her father and her. Not to mention that her father died for the sake of her safety as well.

Everywhere you go, death follows, the dead man's words continued to haunt her mind, tainting all her hopes for blending in with the humans.

She didn't care if she would die in battle with the drake. She only wished to slay the monster, and even if she was killed, she would be reunited with her father. She would be free of further sufferings and humiliation by the dragons and humans. But if the prince dies with her…

She remembered his tale about his mother. She could tell from his voice that he missed her dearly, and would give up anything just to see her again. Shyvana knew little about the prince, but what she knew was if the prince had a wish, that was to return to his home once again, and serve his nation as a dutiful prince.

If he dies with her, so do his hopes and dreams. And she could not bear the thought of killing someone else's wish just to help her fulfill her own.

She found herself selfish and weak, needing someone else's assistance to complete her task. At that moment, she loathed herself.

When a chance presents itself, I'll leave, Shyvana decided. This is my battle, not theirs. I can't drag them into this. This is my plight, and I will deal with it, alone.

The prince will return to his home then, as the rightful heir of the throne. His mother will see him again. Shyvana smiled bitterly as she remembered her own mother, but was happy for Jarvan. She had no doubt that the prince could serve his country well with the newfound experience outside Demacia.

He may be pompous sometimes, yes, but most importantly he had kindness.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there are still good people left in this world, Shyvana thought.

"You seemed troubled, half-dragon,"

Shyvana looked up to see Nasus staring down at her. Even in his mortal form, Nasus looked insanely intimidating, his axe was always with him wherever he went. He sat down beside her, and the half-dragon felt dwarfed by the presence of the Ascended being.

"Your thoughts are conflicted, jumbled in a mess. Like you're making a difficult decision," his gaze went to Rammus, who was still happily splashing about in the water.

"Do you read minds?" Shyvana pulled up her knees, resting her chin upon them. "Or can you tell the future?"

"Sadly, no," Nasus' voice grew sad. "If I could, Shurima would still be standing. I can tell a person's emotions when I am near enough, and yours are full of grief, fear and confusion. What is it that you fear?"

"I fear nothing," the half-dragon looked away. "I have the blood of the dragon, it is them who should fear me,"

"Then why do you shy away from the prince's company?"

She had no answer for that.

"No one enjoys being an outcast," Nasus raised a finger towards a small, isolated cactus, its needle-like leaves covered by grains of sand. As his finger touched the tiny plant, the sands dispersed, and revealed several other small plants beneath it. "That's where all the hatred and despair come from – isolation. I can tell that you're a hateful person,"

"I am a dragon," Shyvana spoke quickly. She felt queer that Nasus was able to predict what she felt. "I was born angry, and I feel nothing else but rage,"

"Lies," Nasus' voice boomed like thunder, and she was afraid that he might cleave her into half right there and then. He did none of that, though. "Even dragons yearn for a lifelong mate, more so for humans. And you're half of each. You must have yearned for someone to be called as your friend, but your anger and hate have concealed that desire, binding you to do its bidding,"

Shyvana bared her fangs, her golden eyes glimmering with rage. "What do you understand? You know nothing about my past. All you've ever done is guard this desolate ruin, what do you know about being alone? I don't need your pity,"

It wasn't wise snapping at a god, but she was taken aback when Nasus' eyes were filled with sadness instead of fury. Even his ears had flopped down a little. "I was something before I have to guard this ruin. I had a brother, and I had to seal him away for the fate of mankind. And every decade I waited for his return, but that was thousands of years ago,"

He turned towards the Tomb of the Emperors, staring at it longingly. "But since young I have learnt that life and death is part of the cycle, and not even gods can stop the wheel. All I could do is believe that my brother had died for the future of the world, sacrificing himself to seal away the forces of evil. And I am here to guard his work, his corpse and the secrets of this felled empire. So, yes. I understood how you felt,"

Where there was contempt dwelling in her heart earlier, was now replaced by sympathy for Nasus and shame for herself. The god turned and stared at her again, the sadness in his eyes already vanished.

"Do you think I have not noticed when you've never taken off those gauntlets of yours?" he reached into the pond of water, and cupped his hands, collecting a small amount of water. "If you fear nothing, why do you always have your weapons ready then? As the prince said earlier, he trusts you and wishes to offer you a place in the Demacian military,"

Shyvana's eyes widened with shock. "Offer me a what? Hey, wait!" she yelled frantically when Nasus' cupped hands went above her head, slowly letting a stream of water flow and splash upon her head. Her armored hands shot out and shielded her head, her body jerking slightly as the cold water seeped through her cloak and tunic.

The water was freezing cold, but the chill did not last long. Strangely, Shyvana felt invigorated. When she lowered her gauntlets, she was surprised to see that some of the rust had gone, revealing its red and gold hues that gleamed proudly. The sharp edges that were full of scratched marks earlier was now shiny and sharpened.

Where there was a burning sensation on her wounded neck and back earlier, it was gone. Shyvana touched the nape of her neck, and gasped when it was smooth and slick with hundreds of tiny dragon scales. Healed, with not even a hint of a scar.

Shyvana smoothed a hand along the edges of her gauntlets. Now that the rust were gone, she could see the delicate craftsmanship of the weapon. As her fingers ghosted a touch against the tip of her gauntlet, she pulled back with a hiss. At the tip of her forefinger, a bead of blood rimmed around a small, fine cut.

"The waters of the Mother of Life," Nasus grinned as Shyvana marvelled at the sharpness of her gauntlets. "It heals most, and sharpens weapons with an edge so fine, that your enemies won't even feel it when they are being cut,"

"What you said earlier," Shyvana gave Nasus a long, hard stare. "That Jarvan wants to…"

"Offer you a place in the Demacian military, yes,"

"Why would he do that? He barely knows me,"

Nasus chuckled. "He barely knows you? Why would the prince swear to help you slay your father's murderer? Why would he offer to die in battle by your side, fighting the Queen of the Xer'Sai?"

She had no answer for that.

"Isn't that what you want, though?" Nasus asked. "To have another purpose other than vengeance, to have a place where you can call home?"

Shyvana shifted uncomfortably. "It is very tempting, yes. But it'll be impossible,"

Nasus quirked an eyebrow at her. She sighed and continued.

"His men fear me. He isn't afraid of me because he's the prince, he's well protected," the half-dragon looked over to where the men slept. "And I don't belong in Demacia. His people will only chase me away. I'd rather roam the world than to be pelted by stones and arrows,"

"That's what you think," Nasus cocked his head to the side, the gesture similar to that of a curious dog. "A shame, really. Jarvan seemed rather adamant about it. I think he fancies you,"

"Fancy?" Shyvana scoffed. "He'd better not. All this while I've brought nothing but pain and death to those close to me,"

Nasus stood, rising to full height. He looked over to where Rammus had climbed to the shore and lied down under a cactus on his belly, dozing off. "That's for you to decide, half-dragon. I have no rights to tell you what to do,"

Shyvana watched as Nasus started walking away from her. She thought about resting for the night as well, before Nasus stopped in his track and looked over his shoulder.

"I know what you're worried about, half-dragon. But you could be right on one thing – perhaps there are still good people left in this world," with that, he turned and left.

Again, Shyvana wondered if Nasus could read minds.

When Shyvana was awake before dawn broke, Jarvan and his men were already up and about. Nasus sat by the oasis, a few scarabs scuttling about excitedly around his palm. Quickly, the men refilled their water skins, and equipped their armor and weapons for their rest of the journey out of Shurima.

"The winds are kind today, and go further north this way," Nasus pointed ahead with his axe to the far distance ahead. "Further away from the Sun Disc, and you shall find your way out of the desert,"

"Thank you again, Nasus," the prince bowed to the Ascendant. "You've been a great help for us,"

"I do what I must, to aid the ones that could bring good to this world," the god shot a brief glance at Shyvana, though the half-dragon pretended not to notice it. "The Voidborn has come further north, and I must do my duty to keep those vile beasts away. Away from Shurima's remains,"

He turned away and walked towards Rammus, before going down on one knee and stared at the creature keenly. "I know of your purpose, little one. You have so much potential, for one so tiny,"

Rammus only stared at Nasus. While the others wondered what Rammus' true purpose was. Not that Rammus would ever reveal it, though.

"But sometimes the smallest creature can cast the biggest shadow. I await your results, little one," Nasus rose to his full height again, casting one last glance at the prince and his company. "So long, Prince Jarvan IV,"

With that they resumed their journey, Rammus at the head of the group and trudging through the sands towards the direction that Nasus had pointed them to. It wasn't long before the sun rose to its peak, then slowly descending down towards a mount in the horizon just before nightfall. By then, more green and less sands marked the ground they traversed upon, hinting their arrival near the forests of the Tempest Flats, right at the border of Noxus.

And for the entire journey, Shyvana isolated herself from the group, listening to the men ranting about their lives. The prince joined them, albeit noticing Shyvana's unusual silence. He had tried approaching her, yet she deliberately shut him out.

Jarvan was right to feel suspicious about her current demeanour. Several journeys before she had always been quiet, yes, but this time it seemed more like she was trying to avoid their company, even the prince's.

Shyvana wrapped her arms around herself, welcoming the loneliness like an old friend. A voice kept repeating itself in her mind. Everywhere you go, death follows.

Just as they approached a rather dense forest, which hinted the end of the desert, the sun had already sunken to its slumber. The skies were a shade of red and blue, and further away, the proud summit of Mount Targon stood. Shyvana couldn't help but wonder if Leona was worrying about them.

Once they reached the forest, Rammus knew he had done his job. He turned towards the men and performed what seemed like a flimsy yet grateful bow, bidding them all farewell.

Jarvan knelt down to the little creature, lifting the Locket of the Iron Solari off his neck. If it hadn't been for Rammus, they would have been crushed by Rek'Sai. "Thank you, Rammus. Your efforts will never be forgotten. Take this back to Leona, let her know that you've been a great boon to our quest,"

Rammus nodded and held the pendant in between his claws. "OK," he mumbled.

He turned towards the looming mountain in the distance, curled into a ball and sped away, leaving a deep trail of sand and dirt.

Shyvana and Rammus hadn't bonded much, but she couldn't help but miss the little guy's presence already.

Jarvan came when she finally climbed up a tree, making herself as comfortable as possible beneath the canopy of leaves. She had distanced herself far enough from the camp that they couldn't see her, yet close enough so she wouldn't lose sight of them. Kyvan would be taking the first watch, it appeared.

The prince held a torch in one hand, tapping the end of it against the huge tree she resided upon. Irritated, Shyvana frowned at the prince.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Talk," the prince said as loud as he could. "You were… quiet. Is something wrong?"

"No," she lied promptly.

"You weren't like this yesterday,"

"I only met you like, a few days ago. What do you know about me?" she snapped at the prince. Hoping that he would go away.

"We fought together," Jarvan's voice rose, as though he was angry. "We almost died, and you still don't trust me?"

"And why would you want me to trust you?" she shouted. She could feel flames tingling at her fingertips. "Why are you so keen on helping me?"

"Do I need a reason to help someone?" he fought back. "I can't watch you get slaughtered by a pack of desert monsters, it's against human nature,"

She sneered. "Human nature is to kill, when will you ever understand?"

He did not answer.

It was quiet for a long while, and Shyvana thought of leaning back and closing her eyes, before she heard the prince letting out an exasperated sigh.

"You're right," the rage earlier was gone, replaced by a defeated voice. "If not, Noxus and Demacia wouldn't be at war. I wouldn't have led my men to their graves,"

She almost felt pity for him, but she was too angry to care.

"I just… I want to go home," his voice did not sound haughty or confident like a prince should. Instead, it was scared and conflicted, as though he could be dead tomorrow, or the day after. "But I also want a moment of peace. My family has been against Noxus ever since my ancestor was born, and until now we're still fighting that war. I am tired, Shyvana. I want to go back, but I can't. They will want me to keep killing, until Noxus is wiped off the map. They have been wanting that since I was born. It's like I've done nothing in my life, except kill, and kill, and kill,"

She pressed her head against the cold branch, listening to the prince's lament. He sounded just like her – lost and in need of guidance, yet there was no one there to help.

"So I wanted to help you," he laughed lightly, though it lacked humor and sounded bitter. "I want to redeem myself, by doing something good for myself. You were right from the start. It was solely for my own benefit. What are humans – if not selfish?"

Shyvana pressed her lips in a thin line. "Nasus told me… about your offer,"

He was quiet for some time, before answering. "He did?"

"Yes," she said flatly. "But why?"

"Let's assume if we all survive in the end. What are you going to do after we have slain the drake? Where will you go? As I recall, you roamed the world with your father,"

Shyvana did not reply. To be honest, she had never thought about what happens after that. That was if she survived taking down the drake.

"I want to give you a home," he said. His voice was kind and sincere, and Shyvana wanted to believe him. "I want to give you a purpose, that life is still worth living. When I see you, I see an angry half-dragon hungry for vengeance, but beneath that, I know you are much more,"

She breathed shakily. "You overestimate me,"

"Perhaps, or perhaps not," the prince said. "Take some time and think about the offer. Once you've been accepted into Demacia, you won't have to hide anymore. Remember this, Shyvana. My past haunts me as much as yours do,"

He started walking away, his armored boots making soft squelching noises on the muddy ground. Before he stopped.

"By the way, you still owe me a whole night of ale," he chuckled and returned to his camp.

Shyvana only growled, hating him again.

To be honest, she doubted that she had ever been this scared in her life.

She could not see what was ahead of her. It was all darkness, and she could only keep walking, her hands groping around blindly before her. How could it be this dark? Am I blind?

Deep within her mind, she swore she could hear a wicked laughter. The silence around her was so strong and thick, it drove her mad. It woke all the fears and dark thoughts that resided deep inside her. She was growing paranoid. Where was she? Why was it so dark, and so quiet?

She opened her mouth and shouted for her father, for Jarvan, for anyone. But no sound reached her ears. And she was truly afraid. She wanted to lay down and weep. She wanted to beg and plead and scream for someone to help her. But here she was, weak and robbed of hearing and sight.

I don't want you anymore.

The voice was a slight whisper of the wind, but she heard it just right. She looked up, though she was still looking at the darkness, she swore the unknown voice came from there. Her breathing came in short gasps, knowing that she recognized that voice, but she chose to deny it.

I don't want you anymore, it repeated, this time louder. The voice was feminine and harsh, and it was the last thing she ever wanted to remember.

I want a child who is purely human, who does not have blue-grey scaly skin or golden eyes.

And when she could finally see, she was met with her mother's face. All this while she had remembered her to be angelic and kind, even after she had chased her out of her own house. But now her face was twisted and distorted, tainted with pure hatred and disgust. Her lips were fixed with a hard grimace.

"Mother-"

Get out! Her mother shouted. Her voice was not melodic like she remembered. It was bitter and hoarse, full of discontent with her.

She stumbled backwards, and her back crashed into someone else's chest. When she turned, her stomach turned inside out.

It was your fault, three blackened corpses stood before her, their gnarled and charred fingers curling and uncurling slightly. They were still wearing their armor, but it was now charred and melted, fusing with their burnt flesh. You could have prevented it, we could have been alive. Everywhere you go, death follows.

"No," she gasped. Her hands were trembling violently, and she felt sick to the core. "You were going to betray us, turn us in. You wouldn't have died if you hadn't done that to us,"

There's no us anymore.

That old and weary voice made her heart lurch with hope, yet her heart sank when she saw him.

Her father stood in his dragon form, proud and elegant. But his scales and hide were matted with dark, dried blood. His head and neck was bashed open, revealing the bloody entrails beneath. There were hundreds of gashes on his body, the largest underneath his belly.

You never listened, his lips moved ghastly. You were stubborn, I died for you. And you let him get away.

"No, I'm going after him. I swear I will –"

It won't work. You won't survive the journey. Two more will die, and you wish to drag the prince into this mess you've made since you were born? Everywhere you go, death follows. Even to those who are close to you.

"I will fix this!"

A deep chuckle rumbled, and she could not pinpoint the exact location of the voice. "Will you?" it said.

"Ain't it a pain, child?" it asked, its voice laced with mirth. "To see the ones you love perish before you?"

Her father, mother and the triplets vanished, leaving her in darkness again.

"Do you hunger for revenge, child? Every suffering is a hunger, and I can help you satiate it. Tell me. Tell me what you starve for,"

Her breathing came in short pants, but what it said struck truth. From sadness and grief, her rage flared. She clenched her fists tightly, feeling tempted to ask for what she wanted.

Vengeance, her heart urged her to say it, to give in to her desires. And power to vanquish my foes.

But she reined in that desire, gritting her teeth with frustration. It didn't feel right, being offered help like that. That voice laughed.

"Boy oh boy, ain't you stubborn, child," it growled. "Nothing escapes hunger. The only real sin in life is to deny a craving. Do you wish to see the prince mutilated like your father?"

Her eye twitched violently.

"Tell me your suffering," it persuaded. This time its voice was laced with charm, and she was finding it difficult to resist. "Misery is but a banquet for me, and your troubles are mainly just the dessert,"

"How will you help?" she asked. "I can't even see you. I don't even know where I am,"

"The world's one river, and I'm its king. The river moves with me, and swallows all that is given," it chuckled. "Fate has let us meet, child. I believe I am destined to assist you. I will fill your starvation. I can gift you with immense power, a meal that you'll feel so satisfied, you won't ever be famished again,"

"How can I trust you?"

"I can give you what the prince can't, child," its voice was getting irritated, as though it was running out of patience. "Why believe in a mundane prince, when I can grant you your wish instantly? All you have to do, is let me in,"

It was tempting. Desires are a human's greatest weakness. But she's only half-human.

"Your offer moves me," she hissed. "But I don't trust a stranger who strikes a deal within the dark,"

Surprisingly, the creature snarled and hissed. And she was suddenly embraced by a blast of bright light.

Shyvana's eyes shot open, and she quickly sucked in a few breaths of air. She was frightened when her surroundings were dark, until she could make out the silhouette of trees nearby.

"A dream," she convinced herself, though her hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Just a dream,"

That was when she realized she was no longer leaning against a branch on a tree. Instead, she was on her feet, standing rooted to the ground. She stilled her breathing, and her ears picked up the faint rush of a river right in front of her.

Had she been sleepwalking?

The world's one river, and I'm its king.

What if it wasn't just a dream?

All you have to do, is let me in.

That dream unnerved her. And she couldn't help but feel threatened by the river.

"Tyson," a slurred, yet furious voice spoke, and it startled her. "You bastard, I thought we were brothers. I will strangle the life out of you. I will,"

It took her a while to recognize that voice. Kyvan.

She turned when she heard a rustle of leaves. Another figure trudged in the dark, like a mindless man. "One more try," Lance mumbled desperately. "Just one more try, maybe I'll be lucky this time. Please, I need money. I'm hungry,"

To her west, a loud, hateful cry sounded. It declined into a harsh whisper, then angry rambling, then rose into a full-fledged battle cry.

"To war!" August roared. "Kill those Noxian dogs!"

Besides Kyvan, Lance and August's voice, the forest was silent as a graveyard. They couldn't have been ambushed.

The stifling sound of a cry made her turn, and she could see the outline of a young lad. Alfie, whose form was slowly lumbering ahead. "Sweet sister… I will find it... The cure. You will be healed, I promise," he broke down into quiet sobs again.

And behind her, Jarvan snarled.

"For fuck's sake, father," he hissed. This was unlike him, he sounded angry, resentful, and greedy for something. "How am I not worthy? I will lead my own troops and take down the Noxian camp. I will show you. If Swain appears, I'll just cut down his head and give it to you,"

The arrogance and greed in his voice scared her. This wasn't the kind prince who felt responsible for the death of his men, nor the warrior who stood side-by-side with her, facing the terrors of the desert.

She wanted to produce a small mote of flame to see what was happening, but she was afraid to attract the attention of whatever that was in that river.

That river.

The river moves with me, and swallows all that was given.

Shyvana felt a shiver down her spine.

Nothing escapes hunger. The only sin in life is to deny a craving.

Hunger, she thought, and her mind clicked. And suddenly, it all made sense.

Whatever the men muttered just now, she could not understand. But what she knew was that they all desired something, as if they all had a hunger for something.

It wasn't just a dream. It was a trap. Shyvana had woken up in time, but Jarvan and his men had fallen for the bait.

And they were walking towards the river.