Disclaimer: I do not own the League of Legends franchise, nor anything related to it. All characters and locations, except those I create, belong to Riot.
I'm sure the theme of Azir's Ascension is already a subject which has been used to death, but I wanted to take my own crack at it. I've had a story involving Azir brewing for some time, but I've only recently put it into something coherent. So, without further ado, here is my story, Reclaiming Shurima's Legacy. Feedback is much appreciated.
Chapter 1: Ascension
He stood over the unconscious young woman floating in the Oasis of the Dawn. Only minutes ago, after his miraculous resurrection, he found her sprawled out on the floor of his tomb, a dagger lodged in her back and her blood seeping onto the stone floor. He did not know who this woman was, but one look at her face told him that she had his own blood in her veins. He took her to the Oasis, praying he was in time to save her.
The woman's blood mixed with the crystal waters of the Oasis, swirling and diffusing in almost pretty patterns. She had been floating for several minutes; any longer, and the man knew she could not be saved. His emerald eyes never left her face.
A low groan, a twitch of the eyes. Signs of life. He sighed in relief; his efforts were not in vain. The woman's eyelids opened slowly, revealing beautiful green eyes. She groaned again and tried to rise. At that moment, she realized she was floating upon a pool of cool, slightly-crimson water.
"Do not move," the man said, his voice deep, stern, and powerful, his gaze unwavering. "Your wounds are not yet healed."
The woman turned her head slightly to see who had spoken to her. Through the dim light, she saw a male figure, tall and muscular, adorned with a green headpiece and bracelets which had large green gems embedded into them. His shoulder-length dark hair was coiled into a series of long dread knots.
Memories filtered back into the young woman's mind. She remembered delving into the tomb of Azir, the long-lost Emperor of Shurima with a small party. She watched her fellow mercenaries being torn apart by the traps that awaited the party. She discovered the sealed entrance to the final chamber and the massive serpent statue that stood guard over it.
The young woman then remembered a piercing pain in her back. The noblewoman who hired her and her fellow mercenaries to guide her into the tomb – she struggled to recollect her name – had betrayed her. The small of her back throbbed at the memory. She remembered her venomous last words before the serpent statue came alive and attacked her. She saw the sealed door open, and she saw two figures – a massive, snarling crocodile and a being of pure energy – exit from the chamber. Then, she remembered gradual darkness, coldness, and thoughts of death.
The woman felt strength and life returning to her body as she floated. The water must be healing me, she thought. The pain she felt slowly dwindled to nothing. She clenched her fists and flexed. She felt rejuvenated, almost younger; moreover, she felt stronger. She shifted herself forward to stand in the pool, confident that she had recovered enough to do so. The man watching her offered no objection.
With her new freedom of movement, she looked at the man closer. Even in the dim light, she saw his well-toned muscles and tan skin. She saw his stern expression, almost like a stony mask of indifference. She swore it looked familiar.
"Are you fully recovered?" the man questioned. His mask faltered ever-so-slightly.
"Feels like it," the young woman replied. She flexed her muscles again, as if testing her claim. After a moment, she asked, "What happened to me? Where am I?"
The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "This is the Oasis of the Dawn," he said. "It is a sacred pool, used for healing and rejuvenation rituals." He paused, considering how to answer the woman's other question. "I found you bleeding onto the floor of my tomb. I took you here, hoping to save you."
Something shifted far above the pair. The man heard it, but showed no sign of acknowledgement.
"Well," the young woman said, "I'd say you succeeded." Her gaze shifted to one of the large doorways leading into the chamber of the Oasis. "I was sure I was as good as dead."
"I could not let that happen," the man said. His steely expression faltered slightly.
The young woman eyed her savior, a look of confusion fixed on her face. "Why not?" she questioned after a moment.
The man started to answer, but a bright flash caught his eye. A brilliant beam of golden energy struck the man and enveloped him in a swirling sphere of light. Energy surged through his veins like fire, and he grunted in pain. He was slowly lifted off the ground. His felt his skin begin to burn from the heat that both surrounded and flowed through him.
The young woman shielded her eyes as she watched the spectacle unfold. Rays of golden light shot out of the sphere as the energy swirled faster and faster. The man's groans of pain became cries. The man screamed, and the sphere exploded with light and excess energy. The young woman was pushed back as a wave of force and heat washed over her.
When she looked back, the woman did not see the man she has seen before. Instead, a new figure had taken his place. It was clad in shining golden armor with purple robes underneath. Three purple tassels with gold tips streamed from each of his clawed gauntlets. His armored, bird-like head bowed forward, and bright golden eyes flash opened. They burned with energy, as did the figure's armor. A layer of blue-gray feathers covered where his armor did not.
He touched the ground almost delicately, letting his weight fall gradually. The figure exhaled, letting his arms fall to his sides. His tassels seemed to ignore gravity, as they flowed around as if on their own. "That as more painful than I was told it would be," he mused, his voice even more powerful than before. He eyes moved towards the young woman, who simply stared in awe-induced silence.
The figure's attention shifted when he heard rumbles in the rocks around him. Something was happening above them, and he knew what it was. He could feel it. "Come," he said, extending a hand to the young woman. "We must witness the rebirth of my city."
Confused, the woman took his armored hand and stepped up out of the Oasis. His armor was warm to the touch. Together, the pair walked up a tunnel whose stairs that rebuilt themselves in the presence of the bird-like figure. The young woman felt short compared to him, as he stood more than head-and-shoulders taller than her. She stole glances at him occasionally, but his eyes were fixed ahead of him. Sunlight ahead of them marked the exit of the tunnel.
When the pair stepped out into the light, the young woman gasped at the sight before her. The sand that had engulfed the ruins of Shurima swirled around the city. Streams of it reformed into parts of structures. Steadily, the city rebuilt itself, revealing just how impressive it once was. The two sloped towers now held a massive Sun Disk between them, adorned with the Shuriman crest. Its gold surface glinted in the sunlight. Behind her, columns of a temple repaired themselves to hold up the triangular ceiling.
The bird-like figure continued forward until he reached the edge of the temple platform. From that position, the entire city could be seen. He extended his right hand forward, and from somewhere below, an elegant staff rose up. He clutched it, feeling its familiar weight. Sand swirled around the base, which solidified shortly after, extending the staff to accommodate the figure's new height.
"Perfect," he mused. He planted the staff beside him before raising his other hand up. The remaining sand that swirled around the city retreated to the rocky outcrops leading into it. There, the sand formed rank upon rank of soldiers, each one identical. In a matter of seconds, thousands of soldiers stood at attention, each armed with a spear and a shield.
Satisfied, the figure lowered his arm. He glanced over his shoulder at the young woman. "Come forward," he said, "and gaze upon the glory of Shurima." Slowly, the woman approached the rocky edge. Her wide eyes soaked in the majesty of the city. Her mouth hung slightly agape.
"Amazing…" the woman said, her voice barely a whisper.
"That, it is," the bird-like figure agreed with a nod. He took another step further, letting his clawed foot grip the edge of the platform. He raised his staff high into the air. "Shurima!" he shouted, his powerful voice resonating through the air. "Your Emperor… has returned at last."
The young woman blinked. The Emperor? How was this possible? Emperor Azir died over a thousand years ago. Yet, here he stood as something far greater than himself. He was superhuman.
He had Ascended, she realized. She bore witness to one of the most mysterious and powerful rituals in all of Runeterra.
Azir's voice tore the woman from her thoughts. "Come with me, young one," he said, extending a clawed hand to her. "There is much to do, and we have much to discuss."