Chapter 18
The echoes of the sturdy, wooden cane tapping methodically with each step sounded the halls as the figure approached the Chambers. Swain hobbled towards the massive double gates as though with deadly cunning, as though as and every single of his steps was planned. His path was certain; there were no mistakes, only possibilities. He had adorned his full official costume, the burnished chest plate covering the sickly green cloak which robed him entirely. The infamous helmet however was not present, revealing half of the tactician's face with the other half masked by a devious cloth.
On the right side of his shoulder, an eerily supernatural 6 eyed raven stood still, its head constantly twitching side to side and its glowing red eyes reflecting off the halls. It seemed as though it was part of Swain, as one devious entity.
Trailing Swain were two servants who copied his footsteps with, following him in synchronization like a small parade. They were to make certain that his silken cape were not to be caught or dragged. Aside from their humble servile appearance however, underneath that mask they were also the most trained killers in almost all Noxus. Their duty, other than keeping up Swain's appeal, were also to take care of his backside while their master could plan without distractions. If need be, they would take a venomous dagger to the back in the name of guarding Swain.
The tireless tapping of the cane was accompanied by Swain's constant mumbling, his ever churning mind leaking overflowing thoughts and schemes. Soon, they are met with a massive pair of double gates which were already slightly ajar. A slight of glowing ray of light poured for the opening, signifying of the people present within. He lightly tapped on the door and proceeded to enter with an impeccable form. His stance slightly hunched from his wrecked leg, yet stood with a nobleman-esque and his eerily expressionless face masked.
Within the chamber was a massive round table constructed of heavy stone situated in the middle of the area. Surrounding the table were both Noxian and Demacian officials, all eagerly waiting for whatever the High Councilor had summoned them for. At the far end of the table sat Jarvan, the Prince of Demacia. Behind him and his massive chair were lined with armored bodyguards. They bear the Demacia standard proudly and constantly casted off accusing glances at the Noxian who did the same. At the exact opposite of the table laid an empty seat, its elegance matching that of Jarvan's.
As Swain stepped in, trailed by his shadowy assistants, Jarvan scoffed and crossed his arms. Swain's raven-like eyes coldly scanned the room before putting up a masquerade of welcoming and warmth. He turned to Vessaria and straightened his back and then set down his cane.
"Ah, isn't it my lovely Vessaria, looking as beautiful as ever," Swain said as he approached the Councilor. He then greeted her by lightly raising her hand with his and making a gentle motion with his masked face towards her skin but never quite touching.
"I am at your service."
Vessaria acknowledged the cunning Swain and pointed him to his seat. As the Master Tactician hobbled to his spot, Jarvan, who had been sitting on his edge of patience, placed both of his hands down on the table in a demanding demeanor.
"High Councilor, with all due respect but I demand to know why we are here with those criminals… Swain," Jarvan impatiently said.
Swain simply ignored the accusation and calmly took his seat, making Jarvan look like as though he was but an immature prince. He then laid his cane aside, allowing it to lean on the granite table and reached into one of his silken pockets and took out a bit of chowder and fed it to his raven, Beatrice. The demonic bird hungrily devoured it from Swain's palms with its wicked beaks.
"Jarvan, have patience," Vessaria began, she then turned to the entire chamber which was now effectively divided like a warzone into two parts. On one end the Noxians and her soldiers crowded behind Swain and constantly gave off aggressive stances at the Demacians. On Jarvan's end it was more or less the same. The mood was teetering on the brink of an open brawl were it not for the Summoners at present.
A crescendo of groans and shouts followed by threatening gestures were silenced when Swain tapped his cane on the hard floor, ending the cacophonous state of the chamber.
"Enough of this petty nonsense, we are a civilized people, not barbarians. I'm certain the High Councilor has an urgent matter for us, is that not right, Jarvan?" Swain rasped out the last word as though he was mocking the prince.
Jarvan scoffed and crossed his arms. "Of course."
As the commotion died down, Vessaria cleared her throat.
"As you are all aware, the institute was under attack yesterday and the Council Chambers were destroyed."
"Yes, our reports stated as much however we were uncertain of the circumstances and held back any reinforcements," Jarvan said.
Vessaria nodded. "All of this catastrophe brought something else, something even we have no experience on. Even then we are uncertain if it is entirely true but Champion Artrix has insisted."
"Please sate my curiosity High Councilor, what exactly is our situation?" Swain asked.
Vessaria circled around the table, formulating her thoughts. She traced herself to the middle of the table where she could enlighten both sides equally. She informed them truthfully of everything, every uncomfortable details that the Summoners had gathered. Vessaria felt for once powerless at their situation, something she and her nigh-omnipotent Summoners had never experienced. Her fears of a higher power wrestling their control of Runeterra had finally come true.
"This out-worldly threat you speak of, seems highly improbable," Jarvan said with skepticism. "But if it threatens Demacia, then we must use all of our men to defend."
"This is not the first time we have encountered a powerful out-world species, take the Void for example, and Nasus and Renekton. But this time even we Summoners had no grasp on the front, we are in the dark," Vessaria said.
"Defeating a High Councilor along with an entire group of Summoners singlehandedly, along with destroying part of the Institute is no small feat. These heavenly beings you speak of seem to be… highly capable," Swain commented.
"And dangerous. According to him, one of them has gone more or less evil and seeks to dominate. It has its sights set Runeterra."
Swain bridged his hands upon the table in contemplation, seeking from his cunning for a solution. His wrinkled forehead had now emphasized its complexion as he was dwelled in deep thought.
Vessaria turned her attention to the Master Tactician. "Do you have any, plans of sorts Swain?"
Swain lowly chuckled. "Shall I state the obvious then. If this alien threat is so powerful, then of course we have no other possibilities but to pool our efforts as one single army. However Jarvan there may refuse like a child."
Jarvan slammed his massive gauntlets on the table, causing the very stone to crack.
"How dare you?" the Prince angrily retaliated.
"Do I lie?"
At the sight of the aggravated prince, the Demacians and Noxians once again began their chaotic chants as insults and threats were exchanged cross the room.
"Enough!" Vessaria demanded, "this is a grave matter concerning all of us and our very existence. I will not have such childish acts in my chambers."
At the High Councilor's bellow, the rowdiness once again dissipated.
"If it is truly this dire, then I shall prepare a call to arms if need be and announce war," Jarvan said, "There is nothing Demacian steel cannot handle."
Swain laughed at Jarvan's naivety. "Were you not paying attention to Vessaria's words? These are no mere enemies. They wield a power so exaggeratedly great that we cannot even fathom it," Swain said.
"Whether the threat is real or not, we must prepare ourselves anyhow. As High Councilor, I request both of your city states along with any vassals to prepare for defense," Vessaria said.
"It shall be done then," Jarvan said.
The prince then got up from his seat and was trailed by his line of soldiers and servants as they shifted out of the room, exchanging accusing glances with the Noxians as they left. Swain remained seated until the last Demacian exited.
"I bid you farewell Vessaria, and may your youth be eternal," Swain said as he bowed and headed the Noxians out of the room.
Beatrice remained still on his shoulder as he hobbled down the marbled halls. The raven cawed and twitched its head. Swain lowly chuckled as though he understood the bird as he continued his methodical steps.
"Everything is an opportunity my dear Beatrice," Swain mumbled to his bird, "and so rare does one present itself like this, on a platter. Of course, Demacia will fall."
As he headed down the halls in quiet contemplation, a flock of crows fluttered just outside of a window. The sun had already begun to set and vanish into the horizons.
"FIDDLESTICKS IS ESCAPED!" one of the guards hollered in panic.
"I REPEAT, FIDDLESTICKS IS ESCAPED. CODE BLACK!"
It was a pandemonium in the chambers as guards scrambled chaotically all over the place. In the center of it all was once Fiddlestick's chamber prison, now complete with a hole in one of its massive granite gates. Inside the feared prison was empty. Summoners and guards alike all hurried in desperate attempts to return the Champion to its cell. The fear that the scarecrow could reach the general population and unleash a wave of insanity and massacre was too great.
High Councilor Vessaria, who was too busy with the entire Heaven threat, had sent Grand Summoner Jacob in her place to deal with this. It was not the first time Fiddlesticks had escaped, although no one knows how it is done, his escapes has always left behind a trail of gore and destruction before returning to his prison.
Jacob was a well-known Summoner, powerful in his own right and a grizzled veteran of the Rune Wars. He adorned the regular purple robes of a Summoner in addition with golden embroidery and gleams that lined his robe. His darkened skin and a large scar on his left face have caused him to become the symbolism of the bloody wars that has once torn the lands apart.
"Secure the perimeter and commence a thorough search before fanning out to the nearby villages, I want men in every corner of this damned Institute now!" Jacob ordered. His course voice was that of a soldier's.
The Summoners orderly scrambled to their positions. One of the Summoner recruits came up to him.
"Sir Jacob, there is something wrong this time. Something far more evil than previous escapes," the recruit said.
Jacob squinted his eyes and grunted. His skin could feel the tingling sensation of dread like a needle slowly pushing through. He knew that this time was worse as even a powerful Summoner like him was affected, he could feel the insanity of Fiddlesticks lingering.
"Be on the lookout, it is different this time."
In a courtyard at the center of the Institute, the flock of crows had formed a thunderous hurricane, circling murderously. The very leafs of the trees were being ripped off its branches at the flowers slowly drained of its life and withered away. Then, a sickening green aura pulsated from the storm of crows and arced to strike nearby construct with deadly force, chunking off stone and marble.
The gathering of the energies and violence drew the Summoners over to the yard. Riven, who was just passing by, spotted the commotion and followed her sense to the court. Even she felt the evil protruding like a stick from the Institute's center.
The Summoners, led by Jacob, gathered at the court and surrounded it. They then summoned a containing barrier to stop the dreadful presence, along with any collateral damage from seeping out.
"It is here!" Jacob hollered over the caws and thunder.
Then, in eye of the storm, the green energies gathered and solidified. Soon, the form all too familiar, that of the infamous scarecrow, began to take shape. Its two emerald eyes which stares could pierce a soul were the first to form. Then, its crooked arms, body and legs stuck out as Fiddlesticks slowly descended from the chaotic storm. The crows were still relentlessly fluttering about, their beaks wicked and hungry for flesh. The caws could drive anyone insane if exposed to long enough.
Fiddlesticks hovered over the air, his stick legs stepping on a violent sea of green. Its pulsing eyes glanced around before fixing its sights on Riven. Sensing the intense dread, she quickly reached for her blade but then found herself to be frozen in fear. Not even years of hard training could allow her to overcome this.
"Champion Fiddlesticks, you are hereby trespassing and breaking League rule, I order you to step down and-"Jacob began but was quickly cut off by Fiddlesticks.
The scarecrow unleashed a frightening demonic laughter as though its voice had multiple evils echoing from within. Its bone chilling sounds rippled throughout the Institute. Now, every being from within could feel it, the despair and doom that he brought.
"I, am the harbinger of your doom, look no further for it will soon arrive," Fiddlestick's demonic voice rasped. "Have no hope, no light, only darkness awaits."
Now, Riven felt the entire attention of the Harbinger as she desperately attempted to wrestle out of her fears. The deepest darkness inside her was magically awakened, all her fears and nightmares slowly brewing within her.
"I have come out of the prison for the time has finally come. My duty is as foretold and fulfilled. I bring the warning of your destruction for He will soon arrive."
The storm increased in intensity as a seemingly endless supply of crows added to violence.
"I was created from the pure malice that is Him, now I shall spread my words. Have no faith and no guidance, for your doom is impending."
The Summoners now attempted to cast restraining spells at Fiddlesticks but to no avail, their magic merely fizzled at contact of the storm. Then, from the broken wall of the courtyard, Artrix sprinted into sight. This grabbed Fiddlestick's attention as his grasp over Riven ended, causing her to fall breathlessly to her knees. Artrix rushed to her side and held her shoulders.
Fiddlesticks' laughter resumed before twitching its neck into place and casted its piercing gaze at Artrix. Then, as though it had suddenly resumed a whole new personality, Fiddlesticks spoke.
"And the hero appears. Artrix, my dear nephew…" Fiddlesticks said in a different voice. While still distorted, Artrix could recognize it anywhere.
"Othrius…"
"Why do you resist, dear Artrix. Do you not see that I know everything? That my power is endless? Surrender, and I shall grant you peace," Othrius spoke through the scarecrow.
"You are pathetic, you only seek power. You are nothing more but a mindless husk, slave to your own hunger," Artrix retorted.
Othrius laughed mockingly. "Your words carry great insult, boy. Are you sure that I am the pathetic one? Look at you, in love with a petty mortal? What would your father think of you? How disgraceful."
The crows then swarmed the two, forming a deadly barrier as the Summoners outside attempted to blast through it. Artrix drew his sword and held it valiantly in front of Riven to shield her.
"If you so much as lay one finger on her, you will regret it with every inch of your existence."
"I believe that you are not the one in position to negotiate. You truly do shame your father, you know? He hates you more than you can imagine, you foolish boy."
Artrix knew those words to be lies but yet Othrius had made it sound so real, so spiteful and filled with malice. He pondered if that was what his father truly thinks of him now.
"Heaven is ashamed of you, ashamed that you were ever even called its Prince."
"No…"
"Deny it all you wish but you are now nothing more but a stain in Heaven's history."
Suddenly, an immense surge of power ripped through the crows. The storm was then quickly consumed by an engorging purple matter. The green energies were being sucked away, along with Othrius' presence.
"Hmph, no matter, this vessel has already served its purpose. We shall meet again soon, Artrix."
With that, the storm dissipated and the crows flocked away. The body of the scarecrow now flopped to the ground lifelessly; its eye sockets now void and empty. Artrix helped Riven to her knees as Summoners gathered to assess the area. Approaching them was Malzahar and strangely enough Kassadin. Behind them was the void creature Kog'Maw who was busy trying to chase down a crow.
Jacob, seeing the two arch nemeses together, was curious at their intervention.
"Masters of the Void, strange to greet you two here and- Kog'Maw," Jacob began.
"Save the pleasantries Summoner, we have come on an urgent matter," Kassadin said.
Malzahar floated about and greeted Artrix. "It is a pleasure to meet the Prince of Heaven. We are well aware of your situation for it has already consumed the Void. Our leader, the Essence has vanished and we can only suspect your uncle's doing."
"Your leader, Malzahar, I am only here to preserve the balance. I am no creature of the Void," Kassadin said.
Malzahar chuckled. "Say what you will, the taint is already you."
"Has it gone this bad? Even a mortal realm has been dominated by his will, unacceptable…" Artrix muttered under his breath.
"Perhaps you will like to take this matter to the Councilors?" Riven suggested.
"That is exactly where we are headed, Vessaria must be informed," Kassadin said. "Master Artrix, may I have a word with you in private?"
Artrix nodded in agreement and headed to a corner of the yard. Riven spotted Kog'Maw and found its hungry eyes cutely scouring around. She offered some bits of chow from her wondrous satchel in which Kog'Maw hungrily devoured it. She then found her hand to be covered in the green slime which she then disgustedly tried to wipe off.
"Master Artrix, this is a pressing matter concerning all of us. There is someone who had asked us to do this, something you know by the name of Amethus. He wishes to see you in the woods," Kassadin informed Artrix.
"Did he say why?" Artrix asked.
"No, but it seemed very urgent, I recommend that you go now."
Artrix agreed and then told Riven that he is needed elsewhere before quickly heading off into the woods.
Amethus waited impatiently in the woods as the shadow of twilight slowly crept over the lands. At the sound of leafs rustling, he tilted his head in worried anticipation.
"My lord," Amethus greeted and began to kneel but was halted by Artrix.
"I'm prince no longer, but a mere exile, address me as such" Artrix said.
"If that is your wish, Artrix."
A chilling breeze carrying a certain eeriness brushed through the forest as the dead leafs wavered and fell. The light is rapidly drained from the atmosphere, leaving behind a dark, orange cask that blanketed the stretches of the sky.
"I sensed Orthius just earlier, I could not make myself shown. May I ask what happened?"
"He arrived in a vessel state called Fiddlesticks. He tried to spread doom to our ears, and that it will be soon," Artrix replied.
"Then I must tell you something, something to dispel anything he had said."
"But what is so secretive that you must bring me out here," Artrix asked.
"My mission here was to get you to ready to face Othrius and I must not fail."
Artrix shook his head. "I'm sorry but I've already told you that I am no longer a god, I am powerless against him."
Amethus quickly scanned the area left and right for any spies of Heaven before summoning an invisible barrier that would have nearly block out their existence from the outside world.
"I must tell you something Artrix that not even Othrius knows, at least for the time being. Sooner or later his Eye of Heaven will unravel this, but then we must use that time wisely for it may be our only chance."
Artrix was now curious at what Amethus had to propose. "Then what is this secret?"
"Your father he… You know he loves you do you not?"
"A love I deserve not," Artrix said, his head slightly bowed in shame.
"Permission to speak freely?"
Artrix nodded his grant.
"He has never abandoned you Artrix, not even in his sleep. I could feel it, he longs for you to return. At times he would even tear up in his bed, an aura of sadness emanates from his broken heart. He longs for you to regain your honor and learn."
Artrix felt even more ashamed for his past acts. He quickly elicited his foolish former self, he questioned his own stupidity. He felt angry at himself, at how he did not heed his father until it was too late; until he had hurt everyone. A certain regret stemmed from this.
"He has never lost faith in you, not even when you were exiled. He just did not want you to follow a path of destruction, of your own demise," Amethus continued,
Your identity, your powers, your rights were never taken from you. You still have them."
"So Othrius lied…"
Artrix was struck with surprise; he had never thought his father would have done this. At the time of his exile, it seemed that he had all but abandoned him, that he was a failure and undeserving of Heaven.
"Only when you have finally learned what righteousness is, shall you be named Prince of Heaven once again. That is our weapon against Othrius that is why I have come. You must unlock them Artrix, you must."
Artrix stared in almost disbelief at palm. Now he understood how, how he was able to draw out that immense power he had during his practice match in the arena. His love for Riven, a mortal being, fueled his righteousness and allowed him to tap into the sealed pool of power within him.
"I understand then, of what I must do. Thank you for telling me," Artrix replied.
Amethus nodded in slight relief. "Then I must return home now, for there is one final act I must attend to. The resistance will need you, do not fail us."
Amethus then turned around and summoned a portal from thin air which swirled in violent white energies. Inside the portal, Artrix could make out the faint silhouette of the Royal Palace, however the image was distorted by the energies. As Amethus began his paces, he turned to Artrix one last time.
"Artrix, before I go, I need you to promise me one thing. Will you do it for me, I beg you," Amethus said.
"Anything."
"If… If anything were to ever happen to me, be it death or worse, please take care of my son for me. Keep him safe, keep him alive and most importantly, his pride. You are, a good friend to him Artrix, he too wishes greatly your return."
Luthers, Artrix thought that the last he had seen of him was technically 10,000 years ago. He still remembered the young, naïve scrapped knee boy that he had once called friend.
"Will you hold that promise?" Amethus asked for reassurance.
Artrix nodded honestly. "I will."
Amethus, now relieved and confident that his task on Runeterra is over, extended his hand for one final farewell. Artrix firmly grasped it and shook it.
"Farewell, our hearts shall always be with the one true king."
With that, Amethus stepped through the portal and instantly it vanished, along with the general.
In the silence of the forest, Artrix used this serenity that he knows will not last and gathered his thoughts. His mind raced to process all the information that he has just learned. His seal powers, Othrius, Luthers… Riven. The grim thoughts of the future and what he may suffer constantly tore at him but it was not himself that he worried, it was Riven. He only fears death now because of what it may mean to her. To leave her alone once again in this dark world agonized him. It was pain that he would feel even in death. Now he knows that he will never forgive himself, not failure, not even death would stop him now.