Chapter 4: Reflection
The roar of the crowd was deafening.
Azir climbed the Stairs of Ascension with determined strides, his gaze set firmly on Dias above him. His golden armor, slightly too large and heavy for his well-toned frame, made the task more taxing than it looked. His purple cape snapped in the wind, which blew with unusual force for the given time of the year. The mortal Emperor did not listen to his uneasy priests, who believed the strong winds were an ill omen.
Azir's mind, like his eyes, was set firmly on his prize.
He conquered the final step and met the gaze of those assembled on top with an almost triumphant smile. He greeted the various nobles, magi, and generals with nods of acknowledgement and appreciation, and they returned the gesture in kind. The Emperor's family stood on his left. His wife offered him a gentle smile; his eldest son, a curt nod; his young daughter, a shy wave. He spoke with each of them briefly, accepting their embraces and kindness.
The Emperor sought out a particular magus, whom he recognized even through the identical robes they each wore. He clapped a hand on this magus' shoulder, which earned a grunt of surprise. "This is a day to rejoice, Xerath, yet you seem so depressed," Azir said, noting the magus' furrowed brow.
Xerath cleared this throat and straightened his posture before replying, "It is nothing, Your Majesty. My mind was elsewhere. I apologize." He spoke quickly, as if unnerved by the sudden attention. Azir only patted his shoulder.
"There is no need for apologies, my friend," the Emperor said with a genuine smile. With one last pat, he released Xerath, who stared at Azir for only a moment before bowing his head.
A smirk played across the magus' face. Perfect.
Azir turned to face the crowd, an imposing mass of people who filled nearly every nook and cranny of the streets below. The crowd roared again as Azir flourished his staff, a family heirloom and symbol of power. Half of his Royal Guard now stood before the base of the Stairs of Ascension, all of them standing firmly at attention. About a dozen of the Guard stood around the Dias as well.
The wind died down, and with a sharp pound of the Emperor's staff, so too did the crowd.
"Citizens of Shurima," Azir began, his voice powered by his pride, "today is a glorious day, not only for myself, but for this great empire. The sands of the desert encroach on our borders, as do foreign powers. Hostility in neighboring territories has caused unrest within this great city. Some prophets foretell dark times approaching. I seek to prove them wrong.
"With my Ascension, I will restore this grand empire to its prime. I will expand our borders to the horizon, for the world deserves to bask in Shurima's greatness. Only then will there finally be peace, unity, and harmony. That is why I take this step into godhood. It is not for my own personal gain, but for the betterment of this empire."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound echoing for miles around. Azir grinned as he continued. "There is one last task must attend to before I take that step, however. It is something I have neglected for some time, as other matters were more pressing." He paused briefly to collect his thoughts. "For many generations, the brunt of the work that keeps this empire running as been on the shoulders of untold numbers of slaves. These souls, destined to live a life they did not make for themselves. It is almost a tradition in this empire, a symbol of status, to own slaves, a tradition in which I myself am a part of.
"That tradition, however, ends today. For here and now, I make my last decree as a mortal man. From this day forward, slavery within the borders of Shurima is a crime, one punishable by death. Each and every slave is now a free man, a full citizen of Shurima. My last act is to give the slaves of Shurima the gift they have long deserved: the gift of freedom!"
Azir thrust his staff into the air at his conclusion, drawing an overwhelming chorus of cheering and applause. Though the Emperor did not see him, Xerath stood rigid, his eyes wide under his hood. His lips, however, were fixed in a frown.
After the crowd had once again died down, Azir said, "Now, we shall begin." He whirled around, his cape flowing to accent to motion. He gave his son his staff, who accepted it with a deep bow. The Emperor stepped onto the Dias of Ascension and turned once again. The Sun Disc, perhaps the embodiment of Shurima's glory, loomed behind him. He stood, eyes closed and head bowed, as the magi began the ritual.
Suddenly, a great beam of light struck the Emperor from behind. He grunted, both in surprise and in strain, as he was lifted off his feet by the light. His arms rose from his sides as divine power flooded his veins. The feeling of attaining godhood was indescribable.
All at once, Azir's vision turned white. The sensations of heat and power abruptly left him.
"Well, this is most interesting." A new voice boomed from seemingly everywhere. It sounded sinister, alien, and yet… it seemed familiar. With a growl, Azir uttered the voice's owner.
"Xerath."
"A quick deduction. I expected no less from you."
The scene returned to Shurima, but not to the version Azir knew so well. He found himself on the Dias of Ascension, where the initial memory left off. The fine architecture was broken, shattered by some great force. Sand buried some of the stone streets below where the Emperor stood. Dread filled Azir's heart; this was the aftermath of the ritual.
"This is your legacy," Xerath sneered, "the result of your ambition and pride: death and destruction."
"No," Azir countered, "this was your doing, Xerath." The Emperor's voice carried through ghostly wasteland. "Show yourself, you traitorous coward!"
The Emperor felt a presence behind him, and he whirled around, his staff crackling with energy. A humanoid form of raw arcane energy floated before him, with fragments of a shattered sarcophagus shrouding it like armor. A locket on the figure's chest bound the energy within to the stone around it. Arcs of lightning darted from its feet to the floor beneath it.
"What do you think of this new form?" Xerath said. He clenched his fists, charging them with arcane power. "It suits me rather well, I think, aside from this damnable prison those fools trapped me in. The stone fragments closed in around him slightly as he spoke.
"I find it repulsive," Azir snarled, "a twisted variation of true Ascension. You will never have the same power that I possess." Sand swirled around his legs in rapid loops.
"On the contrary," Xerath growled, "I believe I do." Lightning arced off of his body as he charged himself with more power. "Perhaps you would like a demonstration of my new power?"
"ENOUGH!" Azir bellowed as he thrust his staff forward. A bolt of golden energy streaked from it towards Xerath.
It never reached its target.
The scene shifted again to a modest chamber shrouded in darkness. Azir's energy bolt blasted one of the walls apart with ease, leaving a gaping hole where it struck. Panicked cries and shouts filtered into the chamber, and Azir glanced around in confusion as he stepped over the debris. All eyes fell onto him.
His encounter was an illusion, a mirage.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" a Summoner cried. He ran towards Azir, his voice filled with dread and panic. His hood had long since fallen to his shoulders, revealing a head of messy, brown hair. "I-I lost control of the Reflection, and-"
The twin tips of Azir's staff met the Summoner's throat in the blink of an eye. "Cease your blabbering," the Emperor commanded, "and explain to me exactly what you tried to do to me. What is this "Reflection" you speak of?"
"I-It's what the High Council looks at to s-see if a candidate is worthy of becoming a C-champion," the Summoner stuttered. "W-we look into your memories and re-"
"You what?!" Azir roared, pressing his staff forward. The Summoner shuffled backwards to avoid getting stabbed by the twin points. "You do not have the right to invade my mind as you just have!"
"Actually, Azir, you gave us that right when you entered the Reflection Chamber." A new voice, feminine and authoritative, met the Emperor's ears. From behind the Summoner stepped a woman clad in ornate robes. Lingering behind her was none other than Sivir, who wore a look of deep concern. "Lower your weapon."
After a moment, Azir removed his staff from the Summoner's neck and planted it at his side with a sharp motion.
"As Summoner Giovann tried to explain, the Reflection is just a formality," the woman explained. She locked her firm gaze with Azir. "We look at a critical moment of your life and examine how it defines you. We examine your actions, your character, to determine whether or not to accept you into the League." Her demeanor suddenly shifted to a troubled look. "Now, Summoner Giovann, could you tell me what happened just a moment ago?"
The Summoner blinked before hanging his head and sighing. "Well, Councilor Kolminye, I… I lost control of Azir's Reflection. Everything was going just as expected until…" His brow furrowed as he struggled to recall the events. "…I was… overwhelmed. Just as I was about to enter the Reflection, some huge magical force rushed through me and entered instead."
"Hmm," Kolminye hummed, a hand cupping her chin. "And this 'magical force' took complete control of the Reflection?"
"Only for a minute," Giovann hastily assured the Councilor. "I regained control and stopped the Reflection, but… I couldn't re-activate the stasis spell in time, so… this happened." He gestured to the rubble that was strewn across the pristine Grand Hall.
Kolminye considered the information in thoughtful silence. After a moment, she asked, "What did you see, Azir? What happened after Summoner Giovann lost control?"
Azir stiffened slightly. "I had an encounter with an old acquaintance of mine," the Emperor answered. "I met Xerath, the one who betrayed me and robbed me of my Ascension." Upon seeing Kolminye's furrowed brow, he pressed, "You recognize his name. He's here, isn't he?"
"We admitted Xerath into the League of Legends just a few days prior to your arrival," the Councilor replied evenly. "The Summoners weren't able to do the usual Reflection with him due to his… unusual nature. The Summoners deemed him worthy; it was not my decision to make."
"Regardless, admitting him here was a mistake," Azir growled. "He would sooner destroy an institution such as this than serve it."
"That's an awfully bold claim," Kolminye quipped. "How do you know he will?"
The Emperor started towards the Councilor, but Sivir stepped between the two and forced Azir back. "He destroyed my empire," he snarled, "and I would not doubt he would do the same to this Institute."
Councilor Kolminye crossed her arms, her stern expression unchanged. "Summoner Giovann, do you believe Azir is worthy of joining the League, disregarding this little incident?" she asked.
It took a moment for the young Summoner to register the question. "Considering what I saw, High Councilor, I'd say he is," he said tentatively. "Aside from his grudge… he is noble. He means well, even if his methods are… harsh." His gaze drifted to the floor.
"Then I suppose it's decided," Kolminye shrugged. Her arms returned to her sides. "Welcome to the League of Legends, Azir." She bowed, as Summoners are supposed to do when addressing a Champion. Giovann quickly followed suit. When she rose, the Councilor said, "There are a few more formalities to attend to before you can actually participate in the League. Sivir can give you those details. If you'll excuse me, I have some repair work to issue." With that, Councilor Kolminye turned and exited the Grand Hall. Shortly afterwards, business returned to normal in the Hall.
Azir relaxed slightly as he let his shoulders slump a little. "If Xerath is a member of the League, that makes the task of dealing with him much easier," he mused.
"Actually, Azir, you can't," Sivir said uneasily. The sudden glare from Azir made her take an unconscious step back. "Champions are strictly forbidden from harming other Champions outside of the Fields of Justice, on the threat of expulsion. Now come on, you have to get yourself fully registered."
"I already grow tired of these 'formalities'," Azir grumbled to himself with a shake of his head.
He followed Sivir to another large chamber. There, a series of Summoners ran him through the process of registration, which involved (much to the Emperor's dismay) determining how heavily to handicap his immense power during matches and creating an exact magical replica of him that could be copied and used by other Summoners.
Throughout the process, Azir's eyes were narrowed. His mind was looking into the future. He could bear all of this nonsense if it meant getting to Xerath. Expulsion would be the least of his worries.
A/N: My mind is completely scattered at the moment. My last week of school is coming up, which is most to blame for my lack of motivation and ideas. I rushed the ending of this chapter; I wanted to get something, anything, out to you guys. I might brush it up later. Also, I made a small change to the ending of the last chapter. Nothing too major, it just adds some consistency.