"Do you hear that?"
The voice startled Shyvana as she coughed raggedly, her throat parched. She opened her eyes, sleep continuing to avoid her as she sat with her back to a wall of rock. Her eyes were bleary and her nose stung from where she had been wiping at it too much. Shyvana pulled Jarvan's body closer as she heard footsteps slogging closer in the rain that poured outside the small cave that she had sought cover in. A source of orange light loomed out of the rain and mist and Shyvana had to shield her eyes, the bright light painful.
"Is anyone out there?" The voice called again. "Hello?"
Shyvana was frightened, but she didn't want to abandon Jarvan again. She cradled his head in her lap gently, his pale skin glowing in the dim light. Two distinct sets of splashing boots loomed out of the distant patter of rain on puddles, one slightly lighter than the other. Shyvana could also hear the 'pitter-patter' of rain striking heavy cloaks.
"Ferron, I told you there was nothing out here." A female voice said quietly, snipping at the male as the the boots stopped approaching. "I don't like this... let's just go back. It's been raining for days, no one is out here."
"Mara, the blood leads this way." The man said, his voice growing louder as the slogging resumed. "See, here on the tree. More blood." A pause in the splashing. Shyvana shrunk back, pulling her hood down further around her face. She just wanted to be able to disappear, her entire body numb from days of endless pain and suffering.
"Do you really want to find out what caused all this blood, all that destruction in the forest back there?" The female voice asked. Shyvana could hear the fear in her voice.
"I do." The man growled impatiently. "Whoever did knocked a tree down right across my fence! They need to pay for the damages." Shyvana pushed herself back against the wall, trying to hide just inside the lip of the cave. Her breaths were slow and ragged, but her heart raced. She was tired, cold and exhausted, in no way ready for a fight. As the flickering light grew closer to the mouth of the cave, Shyvana held her breath, not wanting to make a single sound.
"Hello?" The female voice asked aloud, just from outside the cave. "See Ferron, no one's here, let's go back."
"Hold your horses, Mara." The man said, a lantern appearing from the edge of the cave, beaten and battered from extensive use. Well-worn fingers carried the lantern, raising it as a hook-nosed old man stuck his head into the cave. Shyvana froze, watching him with frightened eyes as he looked up and around the cave opposite of where she was hidden.
Don't look over here... don't look over here... Shyvana thought to herself. The man's gaze first fell upon one of Jarvan's boots though, and his gaze followed the body upwards till he met Shyvana's gaze. He opened him mouth as if to speak, but his jaw merely hung open, blinking lamely as he tried to comprehend the sight of a young woman, bloody and battered, clutching a dead body.
"Don't worry now, I'll get you out of there soon!" He stuttered, surprise throwing his eyes wide. "Mara! Mara!" He waved the woman forward from somewhere outside the cave.
"What? What is it!?" The female voice said, her husband's surprise now evident in her own voice, urgency and worry lacing the words.
"There's a man and a young woman in there." The man said, handing her the lantern. "Quick, quick, take it." The woman poked her head into the cave, glancing around. She was a small, frail thing, with rosy cheeks and long grey locks framing her face. She was just as surprised as her husband, shock in her gaze as her cool blue eyes locked with Shyvana's magenta gaze.
"She's covered in blood!" The woman gasped. Shyvana cowered back, pulling Jarvan with her as the old man lowered himself into the cave, clambering down over a few of the rocks. "Are you alright dear?" The woman finally said, covering her mouth with her hand. Shyvana pushed her back against the wall again as the man drew near. She wanted nothing to do with the humans. They had taken Jarvan from her, and she knew not horrors they would bring with them this time. "She's afraid, Ferron, and she's got to be freezing."
The man nodded slowly, raising his hands before his chest as he kneeled before Shyvana. He did his best to appear nonthreatening, but right now, with the only man who had shown her true kindness clutched in her arms, unmoving and cold, Shvyana wanted nothing more than to crawl over and die.
"I don't want to hurt you..." The man said softly. "I only want to help." The woman slowly lowered herself down over the rocks, peering over her husband's shoulder. Shyvana looked at them with large, fearful eyes, fear freezing her in place.
"Please, young lady," She said gently, holding her hand out, "Are you okay?" Shyvana blinked at them, unsure of how to react. Her mind was slow to react, the days of sleepless nights, the cold, and the lack of food all affecting her mind. She should have fought or fled if she could, but all Shyvana could do was weakly shake her head.
"What happened to your friend?" The woman said, a pang of sadness entering her voice. "Were you attacked by bandits?" Shyvana could only look on with gleaming eyes. Heavy bags lined her eyes and sleep threatened her state of mind.
"She's caked in blood and mud, Ferron." The woman said, a tear forming in her eye. "What in the world could have caused this?"
"The young man is pretty banged up... look at the deep wounds." The man said gesturing carefully to Jarvan He had lowered his voice to barely a whisper, but in the confines of the cave, Shyvana could here just fine. "I bet the blood is his... He must have died trying to save the young woman here."
"How sad." The woman sniffed. "Please, young lady, let us help you... was this your husband?" Shyvana felt her eyes began to sting as tears welled up. They stung small cuts as they ran down her face, leaving steaks on her cheeks. "...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up a painful memory."
"Now, now..." The man said, consoling Shyvana as he reached out slowly. Shyvana was too tired to lash out, too worn out to fight. She closed her eyes and whimpered softly as his hand approached, but when nothing happened, Shyvana opened a single eye. He put a hand gently on Shyvana's shoulder as pain wracked, half-choked sobs began to shake her body. "Come here, young one, it'll be okay."
The man carefully lifted Jarvan out of Shyvana's lap, laying his head down on the stone. He shook his head sadly as he pulled the blanket that Shyvana had loosely wrapped around him up and over his head. The woman pulled Shyvana gently into her arms as Shyvana broke into loud sobs, her shoulders heaving.
"Shush now, young one, it'll be okay... It'll be okay." The woman cooed, stroking Shyvana's dirty hair. "She's freezing, Ferron... we have to do something." The old man looked down at Shyvana for a few moments before he nodded solemnly. He had seen the product of a bandit attack many times before, and it always ended the same. He could see the shock and trauma in Shyvana's face, unable to respond. He sighed.
"We'll take her home and get her back to health." The man said sadly. "God only knows what happened to her when they were finished with him." The man's anger flared for a second at the thought of some unspeakable act, causing Shyvana to whimper and curl back away from him. His wife scowled at him.
"Ferron!" She hissed angrily. The woman turned back to Shyvana, holding her close, wrapping her in her cloak. "There, there dear, everything will be alright now." Shyvana nodded weakly, barely able to respond to the couple as they eased her up towards the mouth of the cave. Shyvana resisted slightly, looking back over her shoulder to where Jarvan lay, her eyes clouding with tears again.
"We'll see that he received a proper burial." The man said reverently, closing his eyes and shaking his head sadly. The man helped Shyvana out of the cave, carefully clambering over the rocks and out into the rain. Shyvana shivered, the cold air swirling about her as rain poured down over her face. Shyvana looked upwards to the sky as rain poured down her face, hiding the tears that still trickled from the corners of her eyes. The man helped his wife from the cave and wrapping one of the dragoness's arm over his neck, he helped Shyvana towards the wagon he had tied off to a tree.
A tall young man stood holding a lantern peered through the mist, a cloak wrapped around him against the rain.
"What was it, father?" He called out, stepping closer. His father, Ferron, waved him over and gestured for him to take Shyvana's other arm. The youth splashed forward, shining the light on her face, the look of disbelief clear on his face. "A girl! And she's covered in blood..."
"It gets worse." His father said with a grimace. "We found her clutching a dead body. Probably her husband." The father said sighing heavily. "They looked to be attacked by bandits, and they did a number to him." The father shook his head sadly. "Help me get the girl to the cart... then we need to fetch the body."
He spoke softly so as not to upset Shyvana, but she heard him regardless, her mind almost numb as the small family helped her without so much as a second glance. Her vision swam as she was guided towards a light in the distant mist.
Black bloodstains littered the area as a pair of horses sat miserably in the rain. The old man and his son helped Shyvana into the back of the covered cart, wrapping her in a thick blanket as she curled up into a ball. The lady clambered into the cart as well, and sat down beside Shyvana, still holding her close, stroking her hair gently. Shyvana felt her eyes drift shut as her sobs subsided, sleep threatening to overwhelm her. He could feel the gentle stroke of a hand against her hair and her mind raced back to her time with Jarvan atop the watchtower. She was reminded of Jarvan's warm presence and was overcome with grief again, but her exhaustion won out, and the young dragoness drifted off to a fitful sleep.
The last thing she remembered was the cloth wrapped body being pulled into the cart, laid out carefully, and then the gentle rocking of the cart as it trundled down the path.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Darkness swirled in every direction.
Jarvan raised his lance and held it in front of him, looking into the darkness with squinted eyes, wishing he had Shyvana's senses to help him. The thought caught him off guard and he immediately felt a pang of grief in his heart. He had let his own demons get the best of him, his instincts to fight causing him to blindly take on two Noxians without thinking about the consequences. He had originally taken pity on the dragon, his own sense of chivalry getting the best of him, but soon the pity had turned to admiration. The young dragoness was a survivor, and despite being outcast by her own people, she had lived happily with her father until that peace was turned on its head by Kampf. Jarvan admired her resilience, and despite her initial trepidation towards the Demacians, the sense of trust that Jarvan had fostered with her had quickly brought them close.
Jarvan had been protective of the young dragoness at first, as if he was caring for a child or younger sibling, but the feisty young dragoness was anything but a child. In some ways, she was still a child, her views of the world were both frightened but also curious about human life. While tracking the dragon Kampf down, Jarvan and Shyvana had spent much of their time just talking with each other, away from the other members of their small group. The young dragoness had a very wide eyed view of the world, and everything she encountered had fascinated her. Be it the rock formations, the trees or even a simple butterfly, she was enthralled by all of it, and Jarvan was enthralled by her. It was both thrilling and refreshing to see the world around them in such a new light. It was something he had never slowed down to do before and had started to regret not doing.
He had always been busy with training or tutoring, life as the Demacian prince had caused him to become the Demacian prince, Jarvan IV, not his own person. He had been defined by his lineage and his purpose, nothing else. He hadn't realized it until he had met Shyvana. Even during his self-decided journey of self-discovery he couldn't escape the mantle of royalty. His men did treat him as a leader, but he was also their prince. He couldn't escape it.
Jarvan sighed heavily, a frown crossing his face. It wasn't exactly something he could talk about to his men. They expected him to be a valiant leader, a prince, their prince, but Jarvan only felt doubt. His heart ached as his thoughts went to the men who he had let die in his selfish journey. Jarvan had to shield his eyes as a flare of light burned above him. A semi-circle of glyphs burned brightly just ahead of Jarvan. He frowned as he tried to read the glyphs. He took a step backwards as the glyphs burned brighter as they shifted and morphed into discernable letters. The letters shifted and turned, finally forming into words.
"The truest opponent lies within..." Jarvan read the text and frowned. "If the opponent is within..."
A distant rumble shook Jarvan's entire body. He could feel every ounce of his being shaking as it grew louder. His body shook even as the sound faded, and Jarvan was surprised when he found the shaking coming from his knees. He swallowed his fear as best he could, trying to stop his knees from quaking.
"Show yourself!" Jarvan bellowed, his impatience and fear beginning to mount in his chest.
The steady reverberations of heavy footfalls began to echo around him from every direction. Jarvan took uneasy steps backwards towards the door and fell backwards when he didn't run into the heavy stone he had expected. He looked over his shoulder and blinked; the door was gone. Jarvan skittered backwards away from the darkness that began to consume the small pocket of light around him. He reached around, feeling for his lance, unable to find the familiar leather wrapped steel weapon. He was panicking, his heart racing as he looked around. He looked for a familiar gleam, the cold steal, anything he could find, but the weapon was nowhere to be found. He looked into the soupy black darkness that now surrounded him on all sides as he cowered on a small island of light, the pure white floor still shimmering below him.
Jarvan looked upwards as six gleaming red eyes loomed out of the darkness, a massive grey beast stretching upwards as heavy footsteps thundered, drawing the beast forward. Jarvan gulped as the beast lumbered out of the darkness and into the flickering light cast off by the burning glyphs. Jarvan looked upwards at the beast. He recognized the monster, something he had seen only once before.
The beaked mouth of a murderous raven looked forward, its bulging, burning red eyes shining like the color of blood. The monster roared, the tortured sound of a hundred men and women emanating from the black abyss at the back of the demon's throat. The sounds was an ear-splintering screech that cut at Jarvan like knives, rising in pitch and spraying the prince with hot air and bits of saliva. Ravens swirled around the beast like a murder of crows. They swooped and dived, a black cloud that threatened to consume anything they touched.
"Swain..." Jarvan snarled, trying to hide the fear in his voice.
The raven beast merely cocked its head to the side and blinked the three great eyes along one side of its head at him, looking down at him as if he had only just noticed the insignificant man that stood before it. Jarvan had seen the demon bird before, but this wasn't the demon that haunted his nightmares. The creature was much larger and mutated, patches of dark green run up and down the beast that looked slimy and grotesque. Jarvan quickly pulled himself to his feet, doing so slowly and deliberately as he did, trying his best not to startle the demon and its flock of ravens.
"You've changed..." Jarvan growled, his voice cracking as his fear got the best of him. He looked around quickly, his eyes darting about as he looked for his lance. As he began to turn his head, the demon before him began to bubble, the massive slimy patches beginning to burst and snap like they were being boiled. Steam erupted from the viscous skin as they seemed to melt away, revealing the bloody masses of human faces, each wearing the same horrified, tortured expression.
The faces all lacked skin as the viscous liquid dripped away, the shiny green mass pooling around its feet slowly trickling toward Jarvan. The liquid, writhing and slithering along the ground suddenly shot outwards towards Jarvan, wrapping around him and forming a massive glyph below his feet. Fervently looking around, Jarvan began to dive away, but the glyph burst into flames, bottomless holes of another dimension tearing open as great talons sprung forth from the ground. They snapped down around Jarvan, trapping him in place as the demon reared back, bellowing its tormented screech in another painful cry. The faces that lined the demon's body all opened their mouths, the sound of hundreds of voices crying out in agony as the flock of raven swirled about, diving towards Jarvan.
Frozen in place, Jarvan couldn't move a muscle as the demonic ravens dived in, forced to wait for his death to come.
"Out of the night that covers me, black as the bit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul."
Jarvan collapsed to the ground, the wall of ravens striking and shrieking at an invisible barrier that had formed around Jarvan. He stumbled backwards as hollow, faded images of ten men faded into view around him. The specters were spaced equally in a circle around him, their backs out, the squirming and writhing mass of ravens still unable to penetrate the barrier. Jarvan blinked as he struggled to maintain his balance, his knees weak as ice formed in the pit of his stomach. He felt bile rise in his throat as he wretched onto the floor, only the thin fluid left in his stomach.
"In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud."
Jarvan blinked as he stared at the ground, his mind only just beginning to register the ghostly men around him.
"Captain." The voice was pained and stretched, weak and empty. Jarvan recognized it though, blinking lamely as he raised his face from the ground.
"...Reynolds?" Jarvan barely recognized the heavy set man, his eyes sunken and empty. Jarvan weakly pulled himself to his knees and then onto his feet as the faded image nodded at him. Jarvan took a step towards the apparition, stretching his hand out before him, but it merely passing through the mist. The image of his sergeant faded and blurred for a few seconds but faded back into the image of the man he had once known. Jarvan stepped away, stumbling backwards as he looked around the circle of apparitions that encircled him. "What... how..."
"Under the bludgeonings of chance, my head is bloody, but unbowed."
The men spoke in low, somber tones as Jarvan took another step backwards. He tripped over his own feet as the horror gripped at his heartstrings, but as he continued his retreat, the shades followed him. Jarvan felt his eyes began to sting as his mouth hung open, unable to articulate the emotions that swirled like the darkness around them.
"Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade."
Their chant came again, slow and mourning, as if it was a warning as much as a threat.
"And yet the menace of the years, finds, and shall find, me unafraid."
"Reynolds... how are you..." Jarvan began to say. He looked around him, recognizing each of the ten faces around him. "Argyle... Vanneth, Halcyon..." The men all nodded at him, their faces hollow and sunken, but not a trace of fear as they stood between the horrors around them and the captain that had let them die. "Marntin, Torn, Jean, Orion..." His men beamed, as he recited their names, meeting each one with a somber stare. "Laryn... Shore." Jarvan's voice caught in his mouth when he came to the last in the group, slowly spinning about, meeting the young man's gaze, Isaacs' son. Shore merely smiled at him, the flesh in his face gaunt and strained, his eyes dark and milky, but it was hard to hide the pride that the man held as he looked at his captain.
"We stand here now to protect you, captain." Reynolds said, his voice gaining some of the man's original huskiness as Jarvan wiped away the tears before they could form. Jarvan collapsed to his knees as he threatened to break into tears, his men still standing around him, forming the impenetrable armor of his heart, even through death.
"But... I led you all to your death..." Jarvan murmured, choking on the words. Reynolds shook his head slowly.
"It was an honor to serve with you sir, as a loyal subject and as a brother in arms." Reynolds voice soared as the ravens began to recede, pushed away as the invisible bubble grew, more apparitions appearing behind the original ten men.
"I would follow you anywhere, captain." Shore said with a proud voice.
"As would I." Jarvan spun, his eyes landing on a face he had not seen in years.
"Fulcan..." The man had died with Jarvan's first capture by Swain.
"Aye, captain. Me as well." Another face from his slaughtered company.
"As would I!" "And I!" "Captain!" "Me as well!" The acknowledgments came loud and fast as more men appeared and reaffirmed their confidence in their captain. The ranks had swelled now as the apparitions expanded around Jarvan and circled him slowly.
"These men trusted you captain," Reynolds said quietly. "And still do."
Jarvan looked upwards and out of the flock of raven to the letters that hung above him, still flickering and burning midair.
"The truest opponent lies within." Jarvan recited aloud. I understand now.
Jarvan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his confidence soaring as he held his hand out. His lance appeared, fading out of the darkness, the leather wrapped hilt settling comfortably in his grasp.
"It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll..."
The chant was building now, the intensity growing as his company, a hundred strong, joined in. Jarvan closed his eyes and took another deep breath, breathing in and then letting it slowly out. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the bright, shimmering magenta eyes that glimmered happily. Long hair framed the delicate features of her heart shaped face, the smile she wore an uncharacteristically soft gesture. Shyvana wore a flowing cloak, spilling gently along her curves, ending in a pool on the floor.
"And here I thought I was only in company of the dead." Jarvan said fondly. He didn't know how, but he knew that Shyvana was alive. He could feel it.
"Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye." Her voice was soft and fluid, and it poured into Jarvan like liquid courage. Jarvan could feel the fear draining from his body as the apparition smiled warmly at him.
"Wait for me." Jarvan murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He reached out, his hand merely passing through the wisps of mist. He clenched his fist, momentarily saddened that it wasn't the real Shyvana. He hardened his heart though, bolstered by the men around him.
"I am the master of my fate." Jarvan joined in with the chant, his voice lost amid the hundred that surrounded him, his head lifted to the sky. "I AM THE CAPTAIN OF MY SOUL!" The barrier exploded outwards with enough force to stagger the towering raven-demon that loomed overhead. As the company of specters charged forth, weapons raised, overwhelming the ravens, Jarvan looked and nodded at the apparition of Shyvana that smiled back reassuringly at him.
"Take this!" Jarvan began as he set off at a slow trot, raising his weapon back and to the side, the apparition following him, sliding back over his shoulder. The apparition followed him, massive wings spreading from her back as she wrapped her arms around his chest, her head laid gently against his back.
"My love!" He shouted as he could felt warmth pouring into him, the presence following him even though in his heart he knew that Shyvana was not truly in this realm. He held her close to his heart as his trot turned into a run. He could feel the power growing inside of him as he gained speed.
"My hate!" He pictured all the malice he held towards his enemies, his country and even those around him and formed it into a weapon with which he could wield. He felt his lance begin to grow hot in his hand as he broke into a run, lowering his stance, the bladed tip of his lance running along the ground, sending sparks flying. He took a giant step forward as the beast drew up and away, the great wings flapping behind it uselessly. The beast began to topple over backwards as tendrils of blackness shot up from the ground, trying to block the prince's path and knock him from the air. The beast roared in anguish as Jarvan kicked off one of its squabbling feet, using his momentum to drive himself higher above the beast. Jarvan brought the lance up in a slicing blow that cleaved one of the beast's wings clean off as it tried to knock Jarvan away. Black blood ran off his Lightshield as it exploded outwards around him, the fury of his ancestors protecting him, engulfing Jarvan in bright golden light as he brought the lance up, high above his head, both hands wrapped tightly around the hilt.
"...AND ALL OF MY SORROW!" Jarvan cried as he brought the lance down hard, right over the beast's heart.
A shock wave emanated as black blood exploded outwards, the sickly sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone resonating as the beast hit the ground with a thunderous crash. There was a deep gurgling sound as Jarvan crashed down on top of the blade, driving it deeper into his quarry. As Jarvan panted, rays of light burst through the bubbling black blood. The beast writhed in agony and let out a horrific screech as its head contorted and twisted about at an odd angle. Light exploded outwards as a secondary explosion erupted from within the beast.
The blow was deafening and it lofted Jarvan high into the air as the demon bird seemed to implode around the deep gash the Jarvan had inflicted. The beast scratched at the floor and air desperately and shrieks of pain and desperation burst forth from the dying animal. The beast twisted down to a ball of swirling and writhing blood and darkness. It suddenly compressed to a miniscule size and then exploded out with such force in a massive shock wave that it sent Jarvan flipping backwards, tossed through the air like a rag doll. The pressure wave and sound gave Jarvan a blinding headache as he crashed to the ground, landing heavily on his stomach, sliding a distance further before he finally came to a rest.
Winded and dazed, Jarvan's vision swam. Darkness crept at the edges as Jarvan lay there with a bad concussion. Blood dripped down from his nose and poured from both ears. He struggled to roll himself over, but his arms felt as if they were made of lead. He groaned, but there was no one to hear him.
"Very good... I did not think you would make it." The voice from before, the one that had lead him into this chamber, rung in his head. Jarvan grunted, finally managing to push himself over onto his back. He rolled over, finally looking into the air, finding the blinding white light of a pure white ocean once again greeting him. "It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but this Judgment... it shall serve its purpose."
The being said faded into Jarvan's view for the first time. He blinked, almost unsure if his eyes were betraying him as the angelic being appeared from the mist. With long blonde hair that cascaded down around her face and magnificent white wings spread around her, the being smiled at him. Her azure gaze was soft and a halo of fire burned above her head. She wore gold armor trimmed with crimson in a pattern that Jarvan did not recognize.
"Everything is now in its place, as it should be." She said, nodding at Jarvan gracefully. Even though Jarvan's head rung and he could barely feel a bone in his body, her voice rung in his head despite her mouth not moving. "When you are finished with your quest, seek out the League of Legends, young prince, I will have a place for you there."
Jarvan opened his mouth to reply but he couldn't get his body to budge. It was as if it had stopped working entirely.
"Worry not, you're not long to remain in this realm." She said, answering the unspoken question. "In return for your... resurrection, the I humbly ask for your assistance within the Institute. If peace is to remain in Valoran, I have much for you to do."
Jarvan tried to frown and reply that he wasn't interested, but again he couldn't do anything. He felt his body growing lighter and lighter as the weight seemed to be lifted. But where there had once been no feeling, numbness followed as his body faded away, turning to dust that was blown away by a wind that caused the mist to swirl around him. Jarvan found himself growing tired, his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep.
"I'll await word of your arrival in Runeterra, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV." She said with a smile. "I expect big things to come from you soon."
The angelic being faded away as Jarvan's eyes fluttered shut, sleep overwhelming him.