Chapter 23: Predestined
"Our lives are controlled and manipulated by unseen forces that only few can comprehend. If all occurrences in this world are not coincidental, but predestined, then who is He who shapes our very existences, and purposely builds this complex loop that relates all lives and goes on for eternity?
So many questions. Enigma. But one I do have the answer to. Someone must complete this loop, or else this complicated, paradoxical balance that is built by He Who No One Knows will crumble to dust.
And so I implore you, Annie the Dark Child. Take this artifact, learn the activating spell, and travel back to your starting point. Complete this predestination paradox. You are the only one who can decipher this, for this is only meant for you,"
A deciphered excerpt of The Paradox We Call 'Fate', written by Zilean.
...Nevertheless, the test continues. We have made sure the child was under our watch at all times, and all staff that were to handle the child were to get an authorization from the leaders of the Gray Order. Strangely, all magical occurrences disappeared, leaving the child as normal as she could be.
Amoline suggested that further tests would only upset the child, that experiments would only leave her more isolated, and alienated to the surroundings. Truth be told, Annie seemed a little more withdrawn to herself ever since the tests had begun. But I know better. Under hostile situations would I be able to confirm my hypotheses, and so I insisted the tests be continued, much to Amoline's chagrin.
Indeed, a few days later, the child's parents had odd dreams again. But this time they dreamt of a legend as old as time, a legend which my predecessors had, perhaps, told countless times. The story of djinns and imps and demons from the darkest depths of oblivion, creatures that resided in another pocket of space and time, a dimension that was not aligned to ours.
A djinn was summoned to Runeterra, and bound to this plane. The summoner could not banish it now, and so the djinn requires a host to stay alive, and sent a threatening message in the form of a dream.
That was when they started to wonder if the tragic incidents that happened beforehand were truly caused by the child alone, or did she have help? Or was it all the demon's work?
So many questions unanswered. But one thing remained true – they realized that summoning the djinn was a mistake, and so we formulated a plan. A plan to right their mistakes...
The half-dragon had gone quiet.
The arcane mage had noticed this, and stayed in between the djinn and Shyvana. He threw spells to slow the demon down, and used part of his mind to help with the transference. Annie may be powerful and gifted. However, she was still a child, and needed guidance to enter the half-dragon's mind without resistance.
Shyvana had resisted at first, forcing him and Annie out of her conscience. Soon, she grew docile, and allowed them to infiltrate her mind.
"I'm sorry, halfling," he muttered. The air began to shift, chilly winds blew more frequently. And soon Ryze could feel his tattoos glow with white-hot power – the forest was suddenly saturated in magic.
The transference was complete.
He refused to pull out of Shyvana's mind, instead choosing to keep a close eye on her. After what he had seen in Amoline's memories of what the child could do, he decided that he should at least make sure that she would not accidentally drive the half-dragon insane. So he stayed on the threshold of the half-dragon's mind, a fine line keeping him from reading her thoughts.
When Ryze looked at Shyvana, he was slightly intimidated by how indifferent she looked. Her cold eyes stayed fixated on the possessed prince, the fire in them surfaced with a thin layer of ice. Her flames no longer burnt like earlier, but now she radiated with energy – magical energy.
His mind was connected to hers, and he could feel how she had stopped resisting Annie's push. The relentless dragon in her had gone docile, allowing a magically talented child to take control. But Shyvana was still very aware of what was going on around her.
He wanted to know what she was thinking. He knew it was a sinful thing, to peep into someone else's personal thoughts. But as a mage and researcher, a philosopher and author of famous grimoires and tomes all over the world, Ryze was curious. He had no doubt that the half-dragon was communicating with the child, and he wanted to know how and what the child was telling her.
He tapped into her thoughts, trying to read her mind. To his surprise, he had no access to Shyvana's thoughts. In fact, he was detected and quickly drawn away by someone else.
Bloody hell, is Annie so powerful? Or did she have outside help?
Ryze may be right. How could a child be so powerful?
The half-dragon's mind was now as frail as ever. In two days time her thoughts had been infiltrated several times, and it got to the point that she was used to it.
The child pushed hard again, and she had no choice but to accept her. The back of her mind began to throb with pain, and she knew that if she resisted any further, she would die from brain damage. Deep in her head, a hammer slammed repeatedly against an anvil, and every ring brought a pulse of pain through her entire body.
"You did it," the half-dragon lamented. "And now you're going to do the same thing to me," she was reminded of the images the child had shown her, the images of people gone senile, mad, and virtually dead.
The child's giggle answered her. She knelt before her, on her knees and palms. Shyvana grunted, virtually crossing her arms across her chest. She could no longer tell what was happening in her present world. Instead, she was sealed in her own thoughts, interacting with a two-year-old child who managed to make her kneel with just a push of her mind.
"At least tell me how you did it," the half-dragon focused. It was difficult, and her headache was killing her, but in the splash of white she could see the toddler, with her bright green eyes and soft brown hair, looking up at her as she drooled obliviously. Shyvana knelt, no longer afraid of the child. All the fear she had earlier was gone.
"Your name is Annie, is it?" the child answered her question with a toothy grin. The half-dragon's inquisitive gaze turned soft, but she remained vigilant, knowing that this child could possibly melt her brain in mere seconds. "You are barely three, but how do you know how to use spells?"
The baby's chubby hand reached out, her stubby little fingers trying to reach the tip of Shyvana's nose. The half-dragon's hand reached out as well, her gauntlet still clung tightly to her, and she wondered if she still had her senses if she was in her virtual mind. Their hands touched, and Shyvana's widened as she could feel the smoothness of the toddler's tiny palm, skin pale as milk and smooth as freshly woven silk. Her large hand, the colour of steel grey, a contrast to her miniature, childish hand.
The baby made happy noises. Shyvana waited for an answer, but it did not come.
"Are you not going to tell me?" she asked again. "Or do you not understand me? You appeared in my mind more than once. I know there is something you wish to tell me, and you even went to such great lengths to have me submit to you. What is it that you want me to know? What is it that you want?"
Annie only stared back at her amber eyes with amusement and oblivious joy. Shyvana frowned. She knew that any child that had seen her face would cry instantly, wanting to be away from a freak of nature. But Annie only seemed happy to see her.
Even happier than seeing her own mother.
But what Shyvana could not understand was that earlier Annie understood her questions, and would answer her by showing visions and hints. She bombarded her with more questions, but Annie now only stared back like a lost sheep, as though they were both communicating in languages they could not understand.
The child had not fried her brain, or driven her insane. What was it that she wanted?
"Oh they won't believe this,"
The half-dragon shot up in surprise, and swiftly turned back to the voice that spoke behind her. A young girl stood a few feet from here, though everything seemed white in her virtual self, she could clearly see the newcomer who came like a silent ghost. Her brown hair reached her chin, and the joyful and relieved glint that showed in her green eyes were free of malevolence and ill intent. She was wearing a sleeveless crimson dress that reached her knees, and her smile was so infectious.
The resemblance was uncanny, but Shyvana couldn't help but ask. "Who are you?"
"You looked so without the scars and prosthesis, Lady Shyvana," the girl whispered, tears welling up in her eyes, eyes that studied the half-dragon from head to toe. "So different you would be, 25 years from now,"
Shyvana only frowned, not understanding her.
"I am Annie Hastur," the girl approached her, and took both the half-dragon's hands in hers. "I know this is a lot to take in, but..."
"I don't understand," the half-dragon looked back and forth at the toddler and the girl, confusion setting in her mind.
"That baby is Annie Hastur," she explained, her eyes never leaving hers. "She will be me, but that will be 25 years later. We haven't got much time. Zilean's artifact, the magic is waning –"
"What?" Shyvana shook her head vehemently. "You're not making any sense,"
"'Magic does not make any sense,'," the older Annie interrupted, her grip on her hands tightened. "You said that to me once. It doesn't have to make sense, so please heed me, Lady Shyvana. Allow me to assist you, we haven't got much time now, everyone's fate depends on this moment alone, please believe me,"
"How –"
"Astral projection, Lady Shyvana," Annie said quickly. "The artifact sent my mind back to 25 years ago, which is now. My actions influenced my younger self. I had to remain quiet and use as little mana energy as possible to avoid alerting my parents. They can't know about Zilean's time magic, or the results will be catastrophic. Everything you saw earlier, it was me. I showed you those images. And I sent my parents those dreams, to warn them of the risks, so that they would stay away,"
Her amber eyes flared. "It was you. You murdered all those people,"
"Yes," Annie admitted, her face turned dark. "I had to do what needs to be done. Doesn't mean I will enjoy it.
Shyvana breathed heavily, still trying to grasp what was happening now.
"You can't seal this djinn alone. Not even Uncle Ryze can do it now," her green eyes gleamed with intelligence. "But I can flush him out from King Jarvan –"
"What?" she narrowed her eyes. Annie frowned, then she understood.
"Oh right, he's just a prince, for now," she whispered to herself, but Shyvana heard it nonetheless. "Please believe me. I need your body for now to banish the djinn. My younger self does not have the strength to endure a reflux of magical energy, yours will do. I assure you, Jarvan will be back in one piece,"
"How do I know that you're not in league with Ryze?"
"I sealed your thoughts," Annie squeezed her hands lightly, and oddly Shyvana felt she could put her life in her hands. "I know Uncle Ryze would try to take a peek, so now it's just us. You have to trust me, you know that's the right thing. Annie –" the girl pointed at the toddler. "She needs protection,"
The half-dragon stared into her green eyes. They were genuine and full of hope, and even if most of this seemed preposterous, Shyvana had no choice. If there was any chance to break Jarvan free, she had to take it.
She nodded, and both Annies smiled.
Outside the rune circle, Gregori tried not to cringe as his wife violently threw a fit. She was screaming as she clawed at her own hair so hard she might have pulled a few strands free. The other members of the Gray Order only concentrated on maintaining the rune circle and the barrier, even though he could tell they were wincing at his wife's unkempt attitude.
"That whoreson!" her voice rose a pitch, and Gregori thought he had enough. "That whoreson pried into my mind! He was scrying me!"
"Enough, Amoline," he gritted his teeth furiously, glaring daggers at her as he mentally willed her to stay calm. But Amoline obviously ignored him.
"He – he saw us, Gregori, all of our secrets. He even –"
"There's nothing Ryze can do. So he's inflicting as much damage as possible, even though he's going to die," Gregori reprimanded. "He wins if he sees you making a scene here. For the love of god, calm the fuck down,"
Amoline's lips curved uglily, but she listened.
The Grey Warlock then returned to the rune circle, which was glowing more brightly with power. Gregori smiled with content. The trap was ready, and it was only a matter of time before he could bind the demon to his will.
All they needed was Shyvana and Ryze's assistance in weakening the djinn. They would be martyrs to their cause.
"Master Gregori," one of the mages called for his attention. Gregori hummed questioningly, prompting him to speak. "The half-dragon is displaying vast amounts of mana energy. And her brain activity spiked,"
His smile died. He reached out with his mind, and watched Shyvana closely.
The mage only stared at Gregori with discomfort, not receiving a reply or given the permission to leave. The warlock's form remained still, his eyes staring ahead, unblinking.
He caught a twitch on Gregori's eyebrow, and that was his cue to leave.
Ryze could feel the sudden increase of energy in the air. His hands twitched nervously, random bolts of flames and sparks jumping from the tips of his fingers. He felt uncomfortable with the saturation of magic, and the djinn felt it as well, the dark tendrils that spawned from the prince's shadow curling with excitement and ecstacy.
There's no limit to her power, Ryze studied the half-dragon, whose gaze was stoic, and her stance was firm and prepared. Jarvan's eye twitched slightly, and his eyes went from a brilliant blue to sinister black. More smoke and tendrils hissed and curled from the prince's mundane form, his hand steaming with black fire as it curled around his lance.
When he attacked, Ryze's eyes widened with fear. One second, the djinn was just staring at him for afar, hand clenching and relaxing around the shaft of his lance. The next, he appeared in front of him, thrusting his lance upwards.
Ryze formed a shield within half a second. Experience had told him that one should always be patient and calm when casting magic, as it required time and a delicate state of mind to form the spell. But he was neither calm nor thinking straightly now, and the shield he formed shattered instantly, yet strong enough to rebound the thrust that was aiming for his heart.
Black fire spat from the malicious spirit. Ryze suddenly felt very tired, even with the saturation of energy in the surroundings, he knew he could not best the creature.
Shyvana pounced onto the prince, her gauntlets raised. The possessed prince saw her coming, but made no move to block her attack. The djinn then spoke through the prince's voice, a language foreign to their world.
A wall of black flames burst skywards in between the djinn and the half-dragon. Shyvana's form was lit with bright flames, a burnout singeing leaves and twigs that got too close. Ryze's heart lurched to his throat – there was no way Shyvana could survive if she were to crash through the shield that the djinn had conjured.
His worries turned to shock when the demon's shield simply parted, just enough for the half-dragon to pass and land a flaming punch at the prince's head. Jarvan's eyes widened, black pupils glowering with anger and disbelief. Dark tendrils from the prince's shadow shot forward, reaching for the half-dragon.
When the demon's essence touched her, Shyvana's form disintegrated into black smoke. An illusion, Ryze realized.
The prince slouched, his back arched like a cornered cat ready to attack. The black flames surrounding the djinn bounced back and forth in agitation as it spoke in hushed whispers and angry tones. The eyes that belonged to the demon darted around, looking for the vanished half-dragon.
Then Shyvana appeared in a flash of light.
Ryze gasped. It was clearly a teleportation spell, and she could displace herself at any moment within a second.
The djinn whipped around so hard it was a surprise its human host did not snap his back. Without hesitation, the prince lunged his lance forward. Another flash of light happened, and the lance only plunged through thin air. Before the djinn knew it, the half-dragon was behind him, hands ablazed with destruction magic.
Shyvana's lips moved, her hands striking gestures that could only resemble a mage casting a spell. Ryze was dumbfounded. She was moving her hands so quickly, like a skilled spellsword who had at least practised destruction magic for more than a decade.
The half-dragon shoved both her hands forward, fingers twisted and curled into the shape of the final gesture for the spell. A storm of fire whipped and stirred in between her palms, and deadly bolts of fire burst from her fingertips, exploding as they touched the djinn's weakly formed shield. It shattered instantly, raining shards of energy remnants that dissipated as they touched the ground.
"The Firestorm, from the Forms of Nine," Ryze muttered reverently, recognizing the spell that was only written in one of the rarest grimoires written by five of the greatest archmages in Runeterra. There were only a few copies left in this world, and the spells inside were not meant for amateurs.
"This cannot be a child's doing," Ryze whispered to himself, watching as the half-dragon summoned all kinds of fire magic, a conflagration that soon endangered the whole forest, brightening the darkness around them. The djinn snarled in frustration, forced to retreat further as his form was damaged by the half-dragon's magic.
His access to Shyvana's mind was blocked, and he could not think of any possible candidates with such powerful magic. Who could it be, the one who was willing to assist them and the half-dragon, and yet had such a devastating power?
His form is weakening, Annie spoke in her mind. Shyvana had no idea how, but she felt empowered, her brain flooded with knowledge and intelligence. Suddenly, she knew every spell and incantations, learnt every tomes and grimoires that she had never seen before. She could clearly see the network of magical energy, dispersed throughout the entirety of this dark, forbidden forest, nodes of mana impulses radiating with power and influence, imploring her to absorb their strength. The djinn barely scared her anymore.
Her hands moved on their own, firing short bursts of flames at the djinn. Each spell was more complex than the previous one, and her mind and body surged with adrenaline, working as one like a well-coordinated machine. Jarvan's body twisted and spun as each spell flew past, yet a few managed to strike him, knocking the lance out of his hand and the dark form around him dissipating a little.
Shyvana felt excited, and eager. She wanted to explore the possibilities of her new abilities, even if they were temporary. Each cast gave her a new sense of wonder, something she had never experienced. Nevertheless, the half-dragon had to restrain herself. She did not wish to hurt the prince, but she knew she could not stop, and so she asked Annie for help.
Worry not, Lady Shyvana. It's almost done. The djinn can no longer –
A worrisome hum cut Annie's voice off her mind, and for a while she heard only static noise. The demon had stopped moving, instead snarling and grunting in lethargy and obvious pain. Shyvana watched as Ryze bowed over, both hands clutching in pain, his face turning green as he heaved the contents of his stomach. It was then she felt sick as well, and it was not because of the sight of Ryze's vomit.
On the ground, bright runes and glyphs glowed and simmered. It soon expanded throughout the forest, and its bright glow was difficult to miss, illuminating the entire forest no matter how dark it was. Shyvana was sure cities a few leagues away could see the ominous glow permeating from the eerie forest. Carved runes, markings and ancient writings that weren't there earlier suddenly appeared, and each time a new rune flared with energy, the hum would increase a notch, its pitch higher and amplified. The half-dragon fell to her knees, all energy drained from her.
Annie. Did she call out through her mind, or did she scream her name? If it was the latter, her voice was surely drowned. In the midst of confusion, she was swarmed by a fear of the unknown. Annie! She called again, this time louder.
Please bear with me. Gregori activated the trap. I'm countering the spell!
Shyvana howled and screamed and snarled, her head twisted and throbbed and pulsed in unimaginable pain. Her stomach churned and twisted, and her throat parched, she heaved and threw up bile onto the searing ground. Ahead she saw the prince falling to his knees, the dark shadows that outlined his body writhing in pain. She wanted to reach out to him, call him, embrace him, just hold him, but each time she moved a muscle a sharp pain shot through her brain –
Make it stop it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts.
Please bear with me.
Hurts hurts hurts can't bear can't move can't stand this kill me please kill me.
Please bear with me. I'm linking the prince's conscience to yours. It's your only chance, Lady Shyvana. Please bear with me.
Please bear with me.
Please bear with me.
Then, all noises died. Silence. Darkness. Nothing. Her body limp.
Felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing.
A voice. Familiar. Its warmth and reverence breathed life into her.
Shyvana.
Suddenly her mind was flooded with memories. Memories that did not belong to her.
He knew some unseen forces had taken his body, but he did not know what. Just that one moment he was walking towards where he thought Shyvana was, and suddenly he shuddered, like someone breathed a chilly gasp down his neck, and suddenly his senses were no longer his own.
Jarvan was sealed from his own body, locked in a prison in the depths of his mind. He could still see and feel and hear, but another violent entity had taken over his mobility and conscience. He could not know what, but he suspected it to be the djinn.
Refusing to sit down and stay idle, the prince fought against his own cell. He screamed and tried to retake control over his own flesh and blood, but the djinn was resilient, forcing its host to stand down and remain submissive.
This body is not yours, Jarvan snarled, not even the slightest bit of fear in his voice.
The djinn chortled. A stab of pain swarmed over the prince, and he bowed down in pain, giving up his hold to his own body. The demon only muttered in a language that was unheard off, but based on the tone of its voice, it sounded rather amused. It only fueled Jarvan's ire, but there was nothing he could do. The prince was powerless against the demon.
What is a prince but a mundane, powerless mortal? The djinn's voice boomed, its tones deep and full of malicious intent. Jarvan stood defiantly, unable to see the demon but remained his composure. The white surrounding of his mind morphed into something wicked – a dark expanse with jagged cliffs and rough slabs of giant rocks. The air was thick and sulphurous, poison melting the prince's lungs. Upon closer inspection, the prince reared back in horror. The walls of the cliffs and rocks were carved with thousands of faces, with three orifices each resembling eyes and mouth that were now empty and hollow. What filled the gulfs in between the damned lands were fiery seas and geysers of poisonous gas.
You try to scare me, demon. I am a mere human, but I am not so easily frightened, the prince howled, baring his teeth to the djinn.
Empty words, prince, the demon sneered. Do tell me, prince, what scares you then? Is it if I bring harm upon the ones you hold dear? The prince bristled in rage, and the djinn hummed noticeably. Or is it a shamed and sullied honour, unable to face your nation once again?
Those I do not fear, Jarvan answered honestly, with pride. The ones I hold dear are more capable than you imagine, terrors like this will not shake them. My honour is already sullied, and I won't return home until I redeem myself.
The djinn tutted impressively. How proud of you, prince. What about the fear of the unknown? A glimpse into your grim future?
Jarvan kept quiet.
A foreshadowing, Jarvan. I have seen a glimpse of your end. And it will not be merciful.
The prince gasped. Images shot through his mind, and the djinn forced him to see visions he did not wish to see. A flurry of pictures flared, all dark and gory. Echoes of screams and cries merged into a choir of death, striking terror in the prince's heart.
He saw a dark mass of creatures, emerging from a portal.
Soldiers under banners of different colours cried in unison, fighting a horde of enemies with bodies made of steel.
A large building, blown to cinders. A scream belonging to a dragon.
A babe, wrapped in clothes of blue and gold, with bright blue eyes and wisps of golden hair.
Demacia, in flames and ruins.
Two bloody bodies huddled together but not moving, leaning against an empty well amidst the ruins of a village.
A man, morphing into a six-eyed raven, its black beak picking morsels of flesh off a man.
Six-eyed raven, Jarvan's eyes widened in horror. The nightmare that he had had since he was a child, of a man with a limping leg and dark, vicious eyes. Dark wings would burst from his back, spreading ruffles of black feathers everywhere, and his form melted and solidified entirely to another creature, a bird that brought naught but ill omen.
Such is the frailty of mortality. All these can be avoided if you relent yourself as a vessel to me. Not that you have much of a choice.
The prince bared his teeth and snarled, swearing to rip the demon apart. If such is my future, so be it! As though his words contained power, the hellish environment began to deteriorate. The walls began to crumble, geysers spouted last bouts of acidic streams, before coughing and choking miserable spits of air. The molten seas began to hiss, and the demon snarled as well, clearly displeased by the prince's resistance, but also bothered by something equally irritating.
I am sensing a huge magical signature. It cannot be you, the demon hissed. Hills of moaning souls crumbled to the demon's distressed voice, falling into the sea underneath. Jarvan breathed heavily, finding it a lot harder to take in air without corroding his lungs.
You are weak, demon. Go back to where you belong while you can.
I cannot! The earth rumbles violently, and even the prince staggered a little, feeling the wrath of the entity. The vile mage binds me here, and now he intends to tame me!
Neither will it benefit you if you possess my form. Gregori will still trap you.
Then I will desecrate this forest, and take the mage with me. Let him see hell. The demon howled, before its tone ascended into a crescendo, the hell it had built temporarily began to crumble and fall into nothingness. The prince suddenly felt a sense of clarity, as if the blockage in his mind had cleared, and he felt linked to someone else's conscience. The prison had broken.
A foreign presence beckoned, a presence which he felt a ease with, and not even the demon had the strength to force him to submit anymore.
The demon screamed in protest, but whoever that forced it to remain submissive was a lot more powerful.
The burning seas, the sulfurous air and the rocky cliffs of moaning souls were all gone. All he could see was her.
Her. Her mind naked to his eyes alone. Her secrets bare to him to see.
Shyvana, he called, relieved. And he knew a tear rolled down his cheeks.
Just as she looked up to him, a huge, devastating swarm of memories bombarded his mind, and he watched – from the moment she was born, loving parents looking and cooing at her as their pride and joy were brought into this world.
He saw all the happy moments she had when she was a child. Even if she was destitute, Jarvan felt like she was the wealthiest child in the world with all those love and care.
Then he saw how she was chased out of her own house by her mother. A sick feeling twisted his heart, and he could only imagine how much pain she had suffered.
And the moment where she watched her father; a full grown Celestial dragon with a body that was once gold, turned into a rusty bronze colour; have his head crushed to bits by a drake disgusted by her existence. He felt what she felt, all her emotions pouring into him and leaving a traumatic mark on him.
He saw himself, the first time they met. And he knew that she felt wary of him, deeming him untrustworthy. But as the memories progressed, her feelings for him changed from pure rejection to suspicion to slow acceptance, then to friendliness. And neither did they know how, but after their unlucky encounter on The Dead Pool, she felt love for him.
Love? He gasped. A strong word he dared not use, for he knew he was undeserving of someone else's love for him. His mother loved him unconditionally, but he never appreciated it and took it for granted. He did not want the same to happen to Shyvana. All her life she had had everything taken away from her, and the prince did not want to cause her any more harm.
The memories ended with them at the forest, with her before him. He had no doubt that she had access to all his memories, that she was privy to all his secrets, flaws and sins. Oddly he did not feel discomfort, being so exposed to someone else. Somehow he knew those secrets would always be safe with her, that she would never judge him because of his past.
The connection he felt with her was so real, that they could read each other like an opened book. Sharing his memories with her was like giving a part of his burden away. Jarvan felt like he could breathe again, a heavy weight lifted off his chest.
He could tell that she felt the same. They smiled at each other. Suddenly he didn't feel so lonely anymore.
Annie Hastur remembered being given the tome that was written by Zilean himself, the revered archmage who was said to have dedicated all his life to time magic. Two months prior, the old man had disappeared mysteriously, without leaving a trace. His office in Urtistan remained untouched.
All that was left on his table was a thick tome, written in codes and encryptions that everyone had failed to decipher. Ryze had tried, and failed, and in the end brought the tome to Annie herself, wanting her to keep it because of its sentimental value to her. Zilean had once trained her when Ryze brought her to him, and she did not deny the emptiness inside her when she realized the disappearance of her teacher.
Annie Hastur read the texts, and decoded the entire tome within a month. She wanted to tell Ryze of her success, but as she read on, she realized that some things were best remained as secrets.
The more she discovered, the more terrified she got. She took great lengths to make sure that no one else, except herself would understood the last secrets of Zilean's research, and so she used her own cipher, and it wasn't long before she could decipher the contents of her teacher's final work.
She realized she could decipher it with ease because it was meant for her eyes alone. Zilean believed no one else but her. His final work was named 'The Paradox We Call 'Fate'', and inside contained rare spells and all of the old mage's research and practices on time magic, even the recipe for foresight and clairvoyance, but such abilities required great sacrifices.
She was very excited when she saw different recipes and formulae for such spells, until she got to the page that detailed Zilean's theory on alternate timelines and dimensions. That Zilean himself had dedicated his lifetime in looking through the greatest timeline of all.
The timeline of Runeterra, and it was all written in the tome.
Annie was exhilarated, but at the same time, very terrified. He mentioned a predestination loop, that all things were meant to be and not coincidental, that every life had a purpose. If each purpose was not fulfilled as it was supposed to be, the predestination loop would crumble, like how a simple tap on the foot of a pillar could topple an entire building.
Zilean tasked her to ensure this loop was not interfered, and he told her where to find the artifact that would allow her to travel back and forth the timeline without fear of terrible consequences, but in a limited time only.
You must ensure that the loop is complete, and not interfered. The survival of Runeterra depends on this moment alone, and I have witnessed the destruction that would be wrought unto this world, should any of these events I mentioned are interrupted, altered or changed entirely. The prince and the half-dragon must not die yet, and same goes to the others – Leona, Fiora, Yi...
Annie felt her shoulders heavy with burden. She remembered meeting the half-dragon in Ionia, her scarred face and prosthetic limbs were a clear reminder of the wars she had endured, and the future wars she still had to fight. But that would be 25 years later. Now she had a task to complete, to tame the shadow demon her father had summoned, and to make sure that the Gray Order would never have their hands on the demon.
Or her younger self.
She had returned to complete the loop. And she will be damned if she failed.
The demon was beyond frustrated. It had tried all it could to destroy the barrier that barred him from molesting the prince's vulnerable mind, but its powers were weakening, and someone a lot stronger than its summoner was interfering.
It snarled, and spat and hissed and growled. Slammed its dark powers against the damnable barrier, hurled spells after spells to get rid of the border. It was so tempting, the prince's mortal form imploring it, and yet it was now out of its reach.
"Now it's just you and me, demon,"
The demon stopped its violent thrashing, and slowly turned, its dark form disintegrating and reforming, a clear indication that its weak body could no longer hold unless it could find a physical vessel. It felt sick and weak, and it was disgusted to feel intimidated when it was a young woman who faced it, a young woman that was clearly the adult version of the toddler it had seen so many times.
It hissed in its language, but the woman understood. You interfere me. Remove this barrier at once, before I consume you, even if you come from the future.
"You are only good at making empty threats. Do you think I do not realize how depleted your energy is?"
The demon snarled, but its form cowered slightly from her. I am dying. I am forced to this world. Release me from the curse that mage has bound me with! I know you have the power to do this. I will grant you any wish that you desire the most.
"Do you swear to do so?" the woman stroke her chin thoughtfully.
This I vow to you! A djinn does not make empty promises.
The woman's clever green eyes gleamed, and she smiled. She lifted her hands and uttered a spell, and suddenly the demon felt free. Its form empowered, all forces returning to its weakening body.
"I will name my wish, djinn, and you shall grant them, unconditionally,"
The demon growled, but did not deny. It was itching to return to its plane.
"My wish is to bind you to Annie Hastur, with all her mind, soul and flesh. Not me, but Annie who is only two years old now. She is now powerless and without magic, and you will give her a share of your power. She will be your charge, and you will remain by her side no matter the cost. You will ensure her safety and survival, whether from her friends or her family, and do as she commands,"
A huge binding spell wound itself around the demon's strengthened form. Her wish was being granted, whether the djinn agreed or not. The djinn screamed, enraged and fearful. You deceived me! You said you will release me!
"I did," the woman spoke confidently. "And now you will grant my wish, as you promised. A djinn cannot take back the vows he made, no?"
The demon thrashed, but the bindings held firmly.
"This is the contract between you and me, djinn. And it ends once Annie meets her own end, in natural means and not divine intervention. Once she dies, you will be freed from this world. I curse you to never return home should you ever harm her, do you understand?"
You make such daring demands, all because you already have a share of my power. You came back in time to ensure your magical strength is embedded in your younger self. I see it now.
"Everything is predestined," the young woman said matter-of-factly. "And I must compete the loop,"
You tricked me!
"I am helping you, djinn, and you will repay your debt," the woman hissed. "With young Annie under your care, you will have to live by a name and a form that suits you. Don't worry, she will grow onto you, just like you will grow onto me several years later,"
The demon protested violently, sparks and flames raining all around it, but the binding spell never faltered. The young woman drew a rune in the air, reciting an ancient compression spell.
"I name you Tibbers,"
Before the dangerous bolts of lightning that began sparking everywhere could reach him, Ryze had formed a weak barrier around himself. Every spark of energy from Gregori's trap threatened to break his shield, while the prince before him thrashed violently and moaned pitiously.
He was too tired to be curious. All he wanted now was to stay alive. But survival was no longer an option. Annie, whatever she had planned, had obviously failed, and though Ryze had speculated some foreign force other than the toddler was driving Shyvana amok, he did not doubt that their failure was imminent.
Before he could give up, however, the possessed prince threw back his head and arched his back, the whites of his eyes only visible and mouth opened widely in a silent scream. Dark smokes billowed out of his orifices, quickly sucked out like vacuum. The half-dragon stood before him, unwavering, her amber eyes dilated to narrow slits, lips moving as she chanted a spell. A devastating thunderstorm raged within that trap, the violent gusts of winds picking up leaves and twigs from the earth.
Soon a black mass was withdrawn from the prince's body. Upon separated from the demon, Jarvan's body toppled to the ground lifelessly, limp as a wet blanket.
The demon's essence gathered in front of the half-dragon, and Ryze recognized it immediately. It was a compression spell, meant to forcefully change the shape and form of any being.
Shyvana continued chanting, hands moving in slow strokes. The demon writhed to no avail, and soon it submitted, and its form began to shift.
Out of nowhere, thread and twine began to weave by itself, forming patches of brown fabric. These patches sewed themselves together, all the while being filled by the demon's essence. After the compression spell was completed, a harmless teddy bear hummed with the last remnants of runic energy, then dropped to the earth with a gentle thud.
At the same time, all the storms and lightnings stopped. The trap deactivated. Energy depleted, the runes dimmed, only illuminated by an afterglow.
Ryze's shield shattered as he dispelled it. He stared at the teddy bear with a confused look. Was it Gregori's doing? But he knew the half-dragon had successfully foiled his plans. Even an amateur wizard could tell from the dying light of the leftover runes and unused glyphs that the trap had been cancelled halfway, unable to finish its incantation.
But whatever it was, the deed was done. The demon was subdued.
"Ryze," the half-dragon called out, her voice surprisingly calm. When the mage turned to her, he was startled by how her eyes had changed from amber to bright green, glowing with intelligence. "The barrier that Gregori placed is disabled. Teleportation spells are usable now," it was still Shyvana's voice, but it was blatant that someone else was dominating her mind, controlling her body and thoughts.
The eye is the window to the soul, Ryze thought. Now he was very convinced that it was not Annie who had successfully breached the half-dragon's mind. Whoever this mysterious person was, he or she had fooled even the leaders of the Gray Order, believing all magical occurences were caused by their daughter whom they thought were born with a natural talent. As much as he hated to admit it, even he himself was fooled.
Ryze wondered how Gregori and Amoline would feel, knowing that someone had possessed their infant daughter's mind all this while and used her to wreck havoc on their plans. Whoever that was, though, Annie was protected from all kinds of hostile situations because of him/her.
"Now is not the best time to daydream, Ryze," Shyvana chided, and the arcane mage snapped out of his thoughts. Shyvana had already lifted the prince's hand over her shoulder, leaning his weight onto her as she half-carried him to an open portal. "The Gray Order will be hot on your heels. I suggest you leave the Noxian borders after teleporting yourself out of safety,"
He looked at the teddy bear on the ground. "What about the demon?"
"Their plans have been foiled. They won't have their hands on it," the prince and the half-dragon stepped into the portal.
Before Ryze could stop them, their forms merged with the swirling darkness within the portal, and the rift closed shut, leaving only silence behind.
With no reason to stay there any longer, Ryze broke out of his reverie, summoned a portal, and vanished from the forest.
"You are the one that killed those who tried to harm Annie. Even the one who accidentally hurt her," in her mind, Shyvana sat cross-legged before Annie Hastur, who held an artifact the size of a pebble that was decaying every minute.
"It's difficult to remain hidden inside the infant's mind for so long. Every time she feels harmed, I take it as a dangerous approach, and could only react violently. Plus, my parents need to fear the 'power' that their child may have,"
"Yet she is only a normal child,"
"She was," Annie emphasized, her cool green eyes never wavered from the half-dragon's intense stare. "Now her powers are real, bestowed by the gift I have given her,"
"What gift? The djinn?"
Annie did not answer.
"And so you have been in her mind for..."
"Several months, Lady Shyvana. But now she can fend for herself. As powerful the demon's gift may be, my body grows weak as we speak. I must go back soon, and the artifact is almost at its end,"
Shyvana's curiosity was insatiable. "Can you tell me... about the future?"
Annie blinked, shooting her a warning glare. "Everyone wants to know the future until they know it. I cannot tell, some events are predestined, Lady Shyvana, they are best left as what they are, even if the timeline is driving itself to a destructive end,"
The half-dragon frowned in irritation. "I only wish to know what is ahead of me, if it is tragedy that awaits me in the future. It could have been different if I were on a solo quest. I don't want to drag others into this tragedy with me,"
"You want to avoid getting the prince and his men killed?"
To that, Shyvana gave no reply. But her silence was enough of an answer to Annie's query.
"All tragedies are inevitable, Lady Shyvana," Annie said sadly. "There is naught we can do about it. Some deaths are meant to happen, to set future events into motion. Runeterra will be very different when it comes to my time, Lady Shyvana. It's best we leave it that way,"
"At least tell me how we will meet. What kind of person will I be in the future?"
"An encounter I will never forget," Annie's smile stretched from ear to ear. "You were at Ionia, recovering, and I was called to you. You were in your dragon form to frighten me, but I wasn't afraid. I felt connected to you somehow, like we have known each other long ago, as if we have forged a bond since I was born,"
Shyvana's face only scrunched tighter in confusion. "How is that possible? I only knew Annie Hastur yesterday,"
"Fate brought us together. You, me, the prince and the other champions will play the most important roles in the coming future," the woman stood, dusting her dress as she stared ahead. "I shan't stay long, Lady Shyvana. My task here is complete, I have to go back now,"
The half-dragon stood abruptly, watching as the stark whiteness in the background began to fade away. She felt her link to the toddler severing, and frantically she looked for Annie, who was already slowly fading away.
"I can't bear with the guilt if something were to happen to him. I have suffered all my life, I can't bear this loneliness any longer," she confessed all of a sudden, a desperate plea of help, not knowing what to do. Annie looked on, her green eyes sad and intense.
"You once told me," Annie spoke, before her form dissipate completely, her voice filling her with hope. "That nothing lasts forever. Not even sadness. In the end, the skies will clear,"
With that, everything vanished. And the half-dragon was brought back to the present, where they were at the shores of the town where they had landed. It was already dawn, and when she looked beside her, the prince was sleeping peacefully, his face calm and serene.
Gregori Hastur did not know whether to consider the mission a success or a failure. The spell for the trap was almost completed when a sudden, unexpected error occurred, one that instantly deactivated the trap and disabled all mana energy in the area. All their psychic link to the forest was severed completely. No one knew what happened in the centre of the trap.
When they got to the scene, the half-dragon and the prince were already gone. Even the rogue mage. All that was left was a teddy bear on the ground. Gregori thought this an insult. But when one of the staff approached it and picked it up to investigate, the staff suddenly seized and fell to the floor, screaming hysterically.
Upon further inspection, they found out that the demon was sealed within the stuffed toy. They brought it back to their labs for experimentation. They could not tell if this was a product of the malfunctioned trap, or if a third party was involved.
Regardless, they sealed the stuffed toy in a vacuum chamber, sensing how volatile the creature that resided inside was. The next day, the chamber was empty, and the Gray Order was immediately placed under lockdown.
Until they found her daughter, Annie Hastur, hugging the stuffed toy, asleep with an innocent face.
When she woke, they tried to remove the teddy bear from her grasp. Several staff tried, and failed. The child screamed and cried, then massive bouts of energy flooded the room, sending powerful psychic impulses to everyone's minds, like a devastating earthquake. The staff immediately escaped, some suffering severe brain damage and stroke.
Amoline was flabbergasted, and afraid. She had no idea what to do. Neither did he. None of them had access to the demon, except Annie.
They were afraid of their own daughter.
Regardless, he had to report to the Archivist of Noxus, a mysterious robed woman who was tasked to keep track of the Gray Order's activities and supervise majority of their projects and research, much to his chagrin. He had told her many times that the Gray Order was an independent movement, and did not wish to have any ties to the Noxian High Command. But the Archivist only said that such actions were necessary, to ensure that the Gray Order was not involved in terrorism under Noxus' name.
"That's what happened, Archivist. We proceeded with the plan that you suggested, but it failed. However, the devil I summoned is now in our hands. I assure you, the Gray Order is the safest place there ever is to house the demon,"
The Archivist sat across him in the secret chamber that only he and the Archivist knew. She scribbled in her journal, her entire body concealed from his eyes. "You mean, the devil you summoned is in your daughter's hands,"
"Annie is my daughter," Gregori growled in frustration. "I will nurture her, shape her into the mage I want her to be. She will be my heir and asset to the Gray Order,"
"I wonder if she will still listen to you," the Archivist insinuated. "If she realizes that she has a greater potential than becoming your lapdog, that she can simply overpower you with just a flick of her finger,"
Gregori slammed his mouth shut. He hated being silenced like this, but he knew she was right.
"I will continue to monitor your movements, Gregori Hastur. Who knows, your research one day may benefit Noxus. If so, I will contact you again," the Archivist stood, ignoring the dumbfounded expression on Gregori's face.
"The Gray Order is an independent movement, unrelated to the Noxian –"
"There will be a reelection soon," the Archivist snapped. "Jericho Swain is aiming for the highest position of the High Command, and he will risk everything for it. If Swain succeeds, Noxus will become a very different place,"
Gregori was shocked upon hearing the news. "Then whose side are you on, Archivist?"
"The side that benefits the nation," she answered without a second thought, and exited the room, locking the door behind her.
The Archivist held the journal close to her chest, and she looked down at the frontispiece. The Journal of Gray Order, it read. With a wave of her hand, the illusion that she cast upon herself faded, the robe melted to the floor instantly. The woman stood elegantly in her cloak and form-fitting outfit, her raven hair reaching her chin. One hand held the journal, and the other held her staff.
With a wicked grin, the Deceiver walked through the tunnels, heading back to Noxus.
…. From what I was told, the plan failed miserably. The target sacrifices all escaped, their locations unknown. On the bright side, however, the demon was sealed successfully, but not as intended.
I do not know whether to consider the Gray Order a bunch of witless amateurs, or someone smarted had successfully foiled their plans. Nevertheless, the experiments we run on Annie had shown positive results, and her magical energy level rose exponentially ever since the stuffed toy was in her possession. She seemed inseparable with it, and looks like she was the only person who can touch the toy without being murdered mentally.
The Gray Order has a powerful child, She will be a great asset to Noxus, if used by the right hands. I do not believe Gregori and Amoline's ability to mold the child into what she is suppose to be, I suppose when the time comes, I will have to interfere.
I will have to act, for the sake of Noxus. And also for the Black Rose.
- The Journal of Gray Order, recorded by the 'Archivist', a disguise used by Emilia LeBlanc
This chapter is the toughest I have ever written. And being pressured by homework and assignment isn't helping.
I need your feedback, dear readers. Please leave a review on what you think about this chapter, is it good enough, or is it too confusing? Your comments will help me improve.
I apologize in advance if the next update takes months. My finals are coming. Thank you to all of you who read and reviewed the story! I'll see you next time!