Similar.

Soraka pulses with the power of the celestial bodies; the stars back her strength and beauty. She heals and restores her fellow champions in battle, though she can be a force offensively if she so chooses. It is her greatest pleasure to bring life to one who is near death.

She, then, can't help but feel as though their powers are similar. Both bring life back into one who has little or none; both allow they're fellow champions to remain fighting for longer. The gravedigger's power she does not understand; after life is lost, she no longer has control. But she can respect him for what he does.

Yorick came to the League quietly, as he does everything. He kept to himself, never going out of his way to create a rivalry or friendship; though Ahri seemed to hate the man even as Hecarim was drawn to him. When he first fought on the Fields of Justice, though, anonymity was out of the question. His powers over the ghouls and death itself cast fear into the hearts of many, though few would acknowledge it. Several champions simply avoided the strange being from the Shadow Isles, while others questioned him as to where he got his power. Yorick never answered. At least, not until Soraka asked.

She had approached him after a battle, as he made his way towards his quarters. He noticed her, and turned expectantly. Soraka decided silence would be her best option, and simply smiled at the unreadable man before her.

After a few moments, Yorick turned and resumed walking, motioning with his hand for Soraka to follow. They passed the barracks and continued down towards the mountains on the Southern border. Entering a cave, Yorick motioned for Soraka to stop before hefting a great boulder with his shovel. Behind it pulsed an opening into the void.

"When you do my work, you become familiar with such places," he said simply.

Soraka started, taking a step back in fear. The void was not a place any living being wished to go near; half refused to believe it existed. Yorick, however, gave her a steadying hand, his mouth turning into a small smile.

"You'll be safe with me. It's just a passage way, anyhow. Cho'gath won't get ya."

Nodding shakily, Soraka allowed herself to be led through the opening. All around she heard sounds and noises; laughter, screams, and moans filled her ears. Only the presence of the gravedigger allowed her to ignore the fears, and focus on the light slowly approaching.

They arrived somewhere Soraka had never seen before; a dark, cold, empty isle, filled with wandering spirits. She watched as they all turned to Yorick, questioning in their eyes. The gravedigger shook his head; he had not yet found his corpse, he explained to Soraka. As the spirits went back to their wanderings, Yorick explained.

"They have all heard my story, passed down from a spirit older than them. That I must find my corpse and, hopefully, the means by which to fill my quota."

"Quota?"

Yorick shrugged. "Don't know what it means. Nobody does. Until then, it is my duty to ferry all those you see here to the next life, or death. Whichever they believed or deserved."

Soraka looked around. "All who are here came from Valoran?"

"Valoran, the Shadow Isles, the Void… they die, they come to me. I give them passage, and if they wish, a chance to aid me in the Fields of Justice." He nodded towards the waiting ghouls. "There are some who enjoy the fight, even if it is but for a few brief seconds."

"And our comrade's spirits?" she asked, speaking of his reanimation of champions during a match.

Yorick turned to her then, looking into her eyes with a penetrating stare. "Our powers are nothing alike, starchild. You heal others and restore their power; I simply create the illusion of life. You are a high being who soothes those around you. I am Death, the Grim Reaper, who takes all who live from one life to the next. I cannot heal, and I cannot raise the dead. I simply allow a few seconds of vengeance to those who were cut down."

Soraka was quiet, unsure of what to say. As she stood, a small spirit, a child, appeared before them. She looked around with questioning eyes as Yorick knelt before her.

"Come, small one. We have a long journey ahead," he said softly. The spirit nodded, and took his hand as he led her to one of many doors. As she entered, Yorick came back, nodding at Soraka.

"They must go through these doors. Some test them, others make them think. They may take as long as they like to ascend or descend, but the longer they take, the more their soul will waste away. Soon, they will be nothing," he said lowly, tired eyes glancing over the multitude of souls.

Soraka placed a hand on his shoulder, and the gravedigger smiled. "You are one of the only living to see this place. Whether you consider that a blessing or curse is your choice," he grunted. "Come; let us get you back to Valoran."

As they passed through the void and entered the cave once more, Soraka turned.

"How long have you lead them? The souls."

Yorick chuckled. "I've lost count of the centuries, starchild. Now I must return to my work." With that he turned and, without a second glance, stepped back into the void, pulling the boulder in place behind him.

Soraka was still a long moment. She had been given the answer to all her questions, and then some. Yorick had shown her part of his world that no one else had seen. She couldn't help but wonder why.

Regardless, she knew, he was mistaken about one thing. She saw the care he took with his charge, and the gentleness with which he led the small spirit. Despite his appearance, he was no Warwick; no monster. He gave life, even if just the imitation of life, to his comrades and charges one more time. And so she could help but feel as though they did the same deed.

Similar.

Different.

Yorick was a gravedigger, the bringer of the next life. He neither hurried nor dallied in his task; he trudged on at the same speed he had for a millennium. No longer did he feel the sting of pain as he saw a child, barely old enough to walk, appear in his realm. No, death was his job. No matter who died, no matter the circumstance. No matter how unfair. His was not to question why; his was to do his duty.

So why had he shown the starchild his world? He had no answer. Perhaps it was because he had longed for someone to share his work with; a subtle, subconscious desire to be recognized for his tasks. Perhaps because the loneliness was so ever encompassing that he enjoyed the presence of another, even if just for a bit.

No, Yorick knew why he had shown her. The starchild dealt in life, he in death. Even though her elevation had been removed, and her punishment doled out, she remained the giver of life.

Just as although he walked with the living in the Fields of Justice, he remained the ferryman of death.

She needed to see this. And, in truth, he needed to show her. To repay her for the times he had felt her healing magic flow through his blood. She had shown him her world; now he showed her his.

But despite her doubt, which he sensed, he knew they were opposite. Light and dark. Life and death. As far apart as the Crownguard child and the nightmare.

Different.