Chapter 2: Memories

Azir spent a lot of time exploring the newly-rebuilt Shuriman Capital. His savior, the young black-haired woman, followed him as he went about. With every few strides, the end of his staff thumped the stone bricks that made up the path. His golden eyes captured every detail. Everything was as the Emperor remembered it to be.

Except for one critical thing. The streets were barren and ghostly quiet.

"What is your name, young one?" Azir asked his companion. Those were the first words he had spoken since he embarked on his little exploration.

The young woman blinked, slightly surprised at the abruptness of the question. "My name's Sivir," she answered.

"Sivir," Azir mused, trying the name on his own tongue. It sounded vaguely familiar. His next question was, "What do you know of your heritage?"

"Not too much," she shrugged. "I asked my parents that same question. All they could ever tell me was that somewhere along the line, there's royalty in my lineage."

Azir said nothing, but nodded. Her answered helped confirm his suspicion about her. He hesitated ever-so-slightly before asking, "How long have I been deceased?"

"The records say about a thousand years, if I remember correctly," Sivir answered quickly.

Azir stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. "A thousand years?" he repeated in disbelief. Had it really been that long? "What happened to my kingdom? To my people?"

Sivir's brow furrowed as she tried to remember the many texts she had read about her heritage. The details were strangely inconsistent and mostly fictitious or conspiracy. What was known for certain was that on one day, the grand empire stood; on the next, it was shattered beyond repair. "I don't know," she answered at last. "The records don't offer anything conclusive."

Azir resumed walking with longer strides, his pace more urgent. He struggled with his own memory; it gradually filtered back to him since his resurrection. He recalled his youth, his adolescence, and the day he claimed his father's place as Emperor of Shurima.

The details of what would have been his last day as a man returned to him. As he walked, he subconsciously summoned a cloud of sand before him. The sand morphed into the forms of people, his former subjects. He had walked this same path on that fateful day. It was almost a case of déjà vu.

Azir rounded a corner and faced the massive twin towers that held the great Sun Disk in place. Even from a distance, its size was impressive, its golden sheen eye-catching. The sand cloud formed the bodies of countless people, Azir's former subjects. Two rows of his Royal Guard separated them from him, their shields forming an imposing protective buffer. The citizens were facing the Sun Disk, or rather what stood beneath it: the Dias of Ascension.

Azir continued forward, the sand cloud moving with him. Figures vanished and reappeared in front of him, every minute detail captured in the sand. It was almost disturbing how accurate they were. He stopped at the base of a massive staircase, the Stairs of Ascension. He remembered climbing these very steps, one-by-one, on his way to the Dias. Now, he scaled them in sets of two, then three, then four. He practically flew to the top. The sand illusions kept pace with him.

He came to a halt at the last step when a sand figure of himself, in his mortal form, rose up. The armor the figure wore appeared almost identical to what Azir currently wore. The illusion was speaking, apparently very boldly and passionately, though it didn't make a sound. Only the wind whirling behind him accompanied the sound of his breathing. Figures of his family – his wife, complete with the bulge of an expected child; his shy young daughter, clutching her mother's hand; his son, soon to become a man himself – as well as a few guards, nobles, and magi, were also present. One particular figure stood far back, out of the limelight, his hood covering his face.

Xerath, Azir's magus. One of the Emperor's closest friends, who happened to also be a slave.

Azir saw his mortal form step onto the Dias of Ascension. He saw himself flinch as the all-powerful beam of energy struck him. He saw himself rise into the air as the divine energy flooded his body.

Xerath pulled his hood away, revealing an ominous expression, and started forward. He spoke a few silent words. The figure of Azir shattered like glass. An unseen force annihilated his family, the nobles, the guards, everyone.

The sand illusions dissipated, leaving Azir alone on his knees. His staff lay cast aside, as his clawed hands now gripped the stone platform. What had gone wrong? What caused the Ritual of Ascension to go so tragically awry?

A dark thought entered Azir's mind. Was Xerath behind this? No, that cannot be, the Emperor thought with a shake of his bird-like head. Xerath would never plot against me.

Or would he?

The sands shifted again, bringing the illusions back to life. The scene replayed itself, but continued where it had previously left off. Azir saw Xerath carefully step onto the Dias to take the Emperor's place. He saw the magus rise into the air as the beam of energy refocused onto him. He saw Xerath's body be all-but torn asunder by the massive power that invaded it. Another blast of unseen energy, and the illusions faded once more.

The message was clear: The Emperor had been betrayed.

Azir's fists shook with the storm of emotions that raged within him. A part of his heart felt torn out of him. Disbelief, outrage, grief – all of those emotions fueled the fire that burned in Azir's eyes. "Xerath," the Emperor hissed. "You… treacherous… SNAKE!" His fist slammed into the stone beneath him, easily creating a sizable crater.

One question burned in the Emperor's mind: Why? Why would Xerath, one of Azir's most-trusted friends, commit such a treasonous act? He struggled to find the reason behind the act. He thought he knew the magus better than anyone. Apparently, he did not.

Azir's thoughts turned darker still. Xerath had not only robbed him of his Ascension, but of his loved ones, his life, his empire – everything he cherished. The Emperor rose slowly, his fists tight at his sides. Xerath will pay dearly for his betrayal, Azir swore. His actions will not go unpunished. He extended his right hand, and his staff returned to it.

He turned to descend the Stairs of Ascension and found Sivir standing a few steps lower than him. "What was all that?" she asked, a look of both confusion and wonder on her face.

"Memories," Azir said grimly. "Both my own and those of Shurima itself. Sivir, what you saw was supposed to be my crowning achievement as a mortal. It was not so." The Emperor began down the Stairs, his posture very composed despite the rage within him. "They did reveal a new purpose to me: I must find the one responsible for the destruction of Shurima… and I must destroy him. Only then will my empire be fully redeemed."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" Sivir questioned as she followed the Emperor down. "Whoever you're after could be anywhere. How do you-"

"I will search the entire world if I must," Azir proclaimed. "There is nowhere I cannot go, and there is nowhere where that snake can hide. I will find Xerath, even if it takes me a thousand years to do so."

"Azir, listen to me," Sivir growled as she stepped in the Emperor's path. "If you're that convinced on doing this, you'll need help. A lot's changed since you died, and you can't just march around wherever you want. Don't you think-"

"And why not?" Azir challenged, his golden eyes narrowing. "I am an Emperor, and furthermore, I am an Ascended. I believe I can do as I please."

"I'm trying to help you, you pretentious-!" Sivir started, her impatience getting the better of her. She stopped herself before saying anything more. She composed herself before saying, "I know someone who should be able to help. With any luck, this 'Xerath' might be where he is as well. I just need you to trust me." Her claim about Xerath was likely false, but she was only trying to convince Azir to come with her at the moment.

Fortunately, it worked. Azir's expression lightened slightly. "Fine," the Emperor growled with a sigh. "If what you say is true, then take me to this person at once."

Sivir sighed in relief. "Alright, then," she said as she started down the Stairs of Ascension once again. As she walked, she said, "It'll take us a few days at best to reach the Institute."

A/N: Some more characterization for Azir in this chapter. I find it kinda hard to write him as a nice guy, but I like writing him as a pretentious person (bird?). As always, feedback is much appreciated.