ONE FELL SWOOP - CHAPTER 11
Genres: Drama, Fantasy, Romance, Action
Author's Note: A lot of stuff gets cleared up in this chapter so I don't really want to waste too much of your time rambling on about my thoughts. I did split the chapter up into two PARTS again, just so the break in the flow of the story is more natural. Anyways, read to your heart's content!
Enjoy!
Chapter 11: Cold Truth/ the First Watcher
PART 1
In small, dimly-lit circular room made of stone walls, stone floors and stone ceilings, two figures stood side-by-side, examining their prisoner. Their prisoner was unconscious, suspended in mid-air by green tendrils of binding magic. One of them, an older man, pointed at the prisoner.
"Do you sense it, Karma?" he asked.
"I-I can feel traces of a foreign energy. It's not like Mantra, which calls for the absolute focus of the practitioner accompanied by that individual's degree of purity in their intentions. This is . . . darker."
"Mmm, good. This foreign energy you sense around Malekai is from a place called the Void."
"The Void? I've only ever thought of it as a theoretical dimension used to explain scientific anomalies, Father."
"There's a reason why they call it the Curse of the Void. The Void is a dimension that cannot be called a true dimension in itself. It is the emptiness in which hopes and dreams are thrown away and left to rot. Eventually, all this accumulated negative energy with no place to go took a physical form and thus, the emptiness became a space in which one could now physically occupy."
"So essentially, you're saying that the victims of the Curse were none other than people who were touched by this emptiness? That doesn't seem right to me." Karma paced the floor.
"No, Karma. I'm saying that the victims of the Curse were all exposed to the Void through what you would call a dimensional leak. Because it was unintentionally created, it was susceptible to many flaws. I initially theorized that most victims accidentally found themselves upon such leaks, and didn't even realize it themselves until it was too late. The empty, negative energy eats at the soul and stains the heart of those who struggle against it. The stronger you are, the more you are inclined to struggle and thus, the Champions suffered the most."
"Then Malekai's negative emotions were amplified by this Curse?"
"No, but it would be a lie to say they weren't affected by the Curse either. I suspect that he intentionally searched for such energy in order to grow in power, thus he has gained such abilities as displayed against Kaleb but suffers from no obvious negative side-effects."
"Intentionally searched? Research of foreign magics without the consent of a higher authority such as the Order or the League is against our law isn't it?" Karma shook her head disapprovingly.
"Yes, indeed. That is true." The Grandmaster chuckled.
"What a hypocrite," scoffed Karma. "And he was spewing all that nonsense about betrayal."
The Grandmaster shrugged. "What a shame. He was quite the brilliant Commander too."
"Albeit lacking in emotional indifference when carrying out important tasks. His arrogance was his downfall." Karma added.
"Fair enough."
"It still seems a far fetch to say that individuals simply happened upon a leak in the dimensional barrier between the Void and Runeterra though." Karma tapped her chin, as if waiting for an answer.
"Which is why I now believe in a different theory. It is the theory that an extradimensional entity is responsible for those leaks—that such an entity, though with unknown ulterior motives, opened those leaks near powerful Champions who were emotionally challenged at the time. Those leaks were targeted, not accidental."
"Are we talking about spirits now? Or ghosts?" Karma gave her father a funny look, but Grandmaster Rivello did not smile.
"Have you ever heard of the Watchers?"
. . .
"So this is it huh? This is Freljord."
Kaleb gazed at the snowy, white expanse that stretched for miles on end. The small, run-down rail-car station seemed to be the only existing proof of civilization within the next 50 miles. In every direction that the boy looked, he was greeted by the same sight: a few scattered coniferous trees in the distance grouped together in little modest patches.
"I can't see a single sign of a living soul for as far as I can see," He complained.
"To be honest with you, I didn't expect the Piltover Express to take us this far into the outlands. We should be thankful." Zachariah replied.
"So, where can we find this person—wait who exactly is this person?"
"She lives in the South. The Piltover Express rail-car we took from Valoria City follows a line that pierces edge of the East of Freljord. We'll find her if we walk against the Freljord wind. The wind will guide us to our destination—without it, all sense of direction would cease to exist."
"Doesn't the wind change directions?" Kaleb felt like he was asking a stupid question, though he couldn't exactly pinpoint the source of its stupidity.
"Not here," Zachariah shook his head. "Not in Freljord. There is a supernatural disaster, north-most of this land, called the Gelid Vortex. It is a powerful, unceasing super-storm that consists of thousands of independent blizzards condensed in one area. Luckily it is surrounded by mountains, which keeps it confined to its place, but it also is the cause of a weather phenomenon known to most of Freljord's inhabitants as the Universal Current. Because the Gelid Vortex is confined to the mountain ranges, it sucks in all the air around it so that all wind currents flow towards and revolve around its epicenter."
"Oh, I see. If we travel against the direction of the wind, we will be able to reach the South regardless of where we are in Freljord."
"Correct." Zachariah nodded.
"Since we're going south though—does that mean we're going to Frostheld?"
"Not exactly. We will have to pay Queen Ashe, King Tryndamere, and their tribes a visit at the capital but the person we're looking for prefers to live nearer to the mountains. Of course, she's been invited by the royal family of Avarosa to live within the capital but because of her unique abilities, she would rather not take the risk."
"You sound like you know this place well—have you been here before?"
"Once." Zachariah raised his hand into the air to feel the direction of the wind.
"Why the hell would you come to such a cold, barren place?" Kaleb asked.
"To find the one known as the First Watcher."
. . .
"The Watchers?" Karma cleared her throat. "As in, ones from the stories that Kaleb always seemed to be fascinated with? How did he describe them again—right—the Ancient deities who guided humanity in its endeavours when it was still in its infant days?"
"That's the common perception of it," the Grandmaster said. "But the oldest Ionian texts speak of a primeval race of mythical humanoid beasts hailing from the depths of Freljord that were one of the first pioneers of magic. They took many different forms but every single one of them shared three distinct features. The first feature was that they each had only one eye—like a cyclops—but which was capable of incredible feats. A Watcher's Eye was how they distinguished one identity from another because each Eye held a different ability. One was rumored to be able to see the future, another, capable of complete atomic deconstruction and reconstruction, and even another Eye, rumored to possess the ability to control life and death."
"And the other two features? Do they hold great power as well?" Karma was almost afraid find out.
"I'm not so sure about any actual powers that they hold aside from their aesthetic nature, but it is said that every one of original Watchers were adorned with a pair of long horns made of True Ice and had an unusually protruding head. All of them also had at least one part of their body covered in thick white fur, most likely an adaptive biological mechanism to the freezing temperatures of the Freljord."
Though she was physically peering at Malekai's unmoving body, Karma's mind wandered elsewhere.
Original Watchers? Does that mean—?
"You mentioned Original Watchers. Does that mean they have descendants?" Karma wondered out loud, forgetting that her father was right beside her.
"It was not written in the texts whether the Watchers were capable of procreation." The Grandmaster's clear voice echoed around the chamber, startling Karma. "After all, they were almost as if gods before the frailty of humanity. I'm sure whether they had children or not was not a primary concern of the first historians who wrote about the Watchers."
"Oh . . ." Karma drifted off, embarrassed by her seemingly worthless question.
"It's not a stupid question, Karma," The Grandmaster reassured her, as if reading her mind. "Despite the lack of mention of the Watcher's procreative abilities, the historians did write about how it was possible that the Watchers' Eyes were hereditary. In other words, even if one of the original Watchers somehow died, their Eye would remain as an article of magic and similar to matter, magic cannot be destroyed, only passed on. However, because each individual Eye was such an inconceivably powerful vessel of magic, they developed their own conscience—or rather, as the ancient historians believed, the Eye would preserve the conscience and spirit of the deceased Original Watcher. Unwilling to exist without a purpose, the Eye would choose an individual it deemed worthy of its power and thus, carry on the Watcher's legacy."
"So, say all or most of these original Watchers actually died out . . . are there new, descendant Watchers currently existing amongst us?" Karma asked.
"It's possible. Though if they were, they are being quite careful as to not meddle with human affairs. A being with so much power would find it difficult to communicate with the same level of understanding as a typical human like you or I." Karma's father almost sounded humbled.
"We're not typical humans though," Karma raised her eyebrows. "I'd say we were worthy of at least a little communicative attention from the Watchers—aren't we?"
The Grandmaster stroked his beard. "Perhaps it would be better that I rephrase my previous statement. If these new Watchers truly exist, then the ones with good intentions would find it unnecessary to intervene in our lives when we are perfectly capable of handling it ourselves, and the ones with bad intentions would find it troublesome if we discovered their existence and foiled their plans."
Karma heaved a sigh of defeat. "As usual, you always manage to make sense of even the most nonsensical things, father."
The old man smiled. "Great knowledge can be gained with effort and talent, but great wisdom can only be earned with experience. And being your father, Karma, I'd say I've lived for far longer and experienced much more than you have."
"There you go again with your wise words." Karma sighed.
"Alas, if a Watcher was truly responsible for opening breaches from the Void and used its negative energy to cast the Curse on his victims, then he would have to have some sort of motive behind it. Watchers never act without reason." The Grandmaster crossed his arms. "It would also be reasonable to assume that Malekai had, at one point, come into contact with this Watcher. Ironically, breaches to the Void are incredibly hard to find on purpose despite the Void's dimensional instability so one would have to be led there. Once they reached a close enough distance to absorb the negative energy, it would only be a matter of whether one wished to accept it or attempt to reject it."
"Right now these are all inferences and educated guesses that you're giving me right?" Karma's tone suddenly sounded more serious. She had finally decided to take action.
"Absolutely. We would need more solid proof if we wanted to bring a tragedy from the past back into the light of the present. I doubt many would appreciate being reminded of a problem we had already put behind us." The Grandmaster agreed.
"There is only one other person I know, who was just as obsessed with the Watchers as Kaleb was. He even did extensive research on the Watchers, which explains that one time he randomly decided to travel to Freljord."
Her father's smile disappeared.
"Ever since he vanished from the face of Runeterra four years ago, I have used all my power to try and search for him, but all my efforts were in vain. What makes you think you can find him?"
Karma gave him a confident look. "I may have helped you search for him as your son at the time, but I did not search for him as my brother. This time, I will find Zachariah and I will bring him home."
"I hope that your look of confidence is backed by an actual working plan. As my daughter, you should know not to give a father false hopes."
"I won't. This time, I may have a bit of special help."
"Then may the will of Ionia be with you, my daughter. You may take whomever you need on this mission." The Grandmaster returned to observe Malekai's imprisoned body while Karma bowed and exited the chamber.
Once he was sure Karma was a safe distance away, he exhaled deeply. Opening his right palm, he lifted it up to his face. At the center of his palm, a tiny golden spark seemed to spring out, which grew into a small, dancing flame. A golden letter was clearly visible within the flame. It was the letter Z.
Hmm. The contract has yet to be broken. I wonder how you are faring? Are you doing well? Have you grown?
He remained thoughtless for a minute before regret began to settle into his mind.
I'm sorry, Karma. There is still so much you don't know, and so much I can't tell you. When your older brother was first born into this world, you know that he contracted a severe disease. Later, I told you and Kaleb that I had found a very special doctor that helped cure Zachariah's incurable malady but that was only half the truth. The truth was that I forged a magical contract with HER. The reason why Zachariah can't return—it is because his life no longer belongs to him. The truth was that I broke the Ancient Ionian laws and conducted a secret ritual that summoned an otherworldly being. I brought that THING back into existence after it had been sealed away by the Magelords and Protectorates many millennia ago, all to save the life of a poor baby boy who didn't deserve to die.
That THING was the one Original that was capable of venturing beyond Freljord—it was the one Original that was deemed too dangerous to allow its legacy to be passed on.
I brought that thing called the Golden Watcher to the realm of Runeterra and in doing so . . .
. . . I opened the first breach to the Void.
PART 2
"The First Watcher?" Kaleb was immediately interested.
"Well, maybe one of the First Watchers would make more sense." Zachariah corrected himself as the two young men walked with the cold winter wind beating against their faces.
"Hold on—First Watchers, as in the very first, original Watchers that came to be?" the younger boy's voice was full of excitement.
"You could say that. After I discovered the true circumstances surrounding my miraculous recovery from Darcus Plagueis, I did some preliminary research and found myself upon the term 'Watcher'. They were said to be creatures that were capable of using the most wondrous forms of magic. But the 'Watchers' that I read about in modern texts and the 'Watchers' that I read about in Ancient Ionian texts had conflicting claims. The modern texts spoke of the 'Watchers' as if they were neutral, indifferent extradimensional guardians of Runeterra while the older texts spoke of them as more free-roaming spirits originating from Freljord. It is said that the force that first brought them into existence created the Gelid Vortex. So I deduced that the 'Watchers' described in the different texts were different—the old texts described the source and the modern texts described the legacy."
"So did you find anything relating to the First Watchers?"
"I did, though only stories about it. And it wasn't exactly what I was searching for."
"It?" Kaleb repeated.
"I only found stories of an outlier. A First Watcher that was unique and different from its peers. Instead of having only one Eye, it had two Eyes. It also hated fact that it was seen as a deviant of its race so it developed the ability to 'take' from others and transform in order to fit into its primeval society. The Watcher even developed the ability to take the life of others and extend its own power, which was how it was able to survive longer than the other Watchers. It was thus known as 'The Watcher who Takes'. Keep in mind that for every Watcher born with a spectacular ability in their Eye, there is another Watcher born with the power to counter the former's ability. That way, the hierarchy in their tribe was more balanced. So obviously, that particular Watcher was eventually greeted by its complete opposite—'The Watcher who Gives'. The latter was capable of giving life-energy to those who needed it. Being the envious Watcher that she is, the Watcher obviously coveted her counterpart's ability."
Kaleb interrupted. "So she tried to steal the 'Watcher who Gives', better known as the Green Father—she tried to steal his power but the unfamiliar life-energy overwhelmed her and she failed. In the process of doing so, the energy she stole entered her body and gave her a bright, golden aura. In the end, she was only able to use the Green Father's power on a much smaller scale. Moreover, the Green Father was able to further evolve and grew two eyes. This Watcher who Takes—it's Amina isn't it?"
Zachariah nodded. "I had my suspicions but I wanted to gather more evidence before I even considered telling you. But I guess you exceeded my expectations again."
"I think actually heard about it from when I first met Rosalyn. Now that I think back to that time . . . she was telling me about a 'Golden Watcher' that was her favorite. It gave me a critical hint as to the truth of Amina's identity."
"What irks me though is the Ancient texts specified that the Golden Watcher was eventually sealed away by the Magelords and Protectorates, who at the time, were unified by a common enemy. That means someone had to have intentionally unravelled the seal for Amina to have escaped."
"Intentionally unravelled the seal?" Kaleb took a thinking pose. "That means this individual or group of people had to have limited access to the Ancient Ionian Texts AND the magical competence to pull of such a feat. But even if such a person existed, why would he or she ever consider releasing Amina? As far as my impression of the Golden Watcher goes, she's unreliable and thus, uncontrollable."
"Perhaps they wanted something that only the Golden Watcher could grant? Perhaps, because Amina stole the power to give life, the culprit wanted to extend his or her lifespan? Or it could even be that—"
Kaleb raised a finger. "Wait—can her power to 'Take' away something include the ability to take away something bad?"
Zachariah nodded slowly. "Theoretically, yes. For example, the culprit might have wanted Amina to take away an illness or a curse from his or her body. There is nothing in the old texts that specifies that there has to be an equal exchange and acceptance, so Amina could take away those things but not suffer from them herself or be required to give something equally as harmful in return."
"Then . . . would it be reasonable to assume that it is also possible for her to take away death itself?"
Death . . . itself? Zachariah wondered.
Without warning, he stopped walking, causing Kaleb to stumble into him.
"Oi! Don't just randomly stop walking." Kaleb protested.
But Zachariah wasn't listening. He closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against his temples, as if trying to concentrate on something. An image flashed into his head.
Yellow.
Bright Yellow.
Orange.
Gold.
As the image became clearer, he could start to distinguish the source of each color. The yellow was the glow coming from his chest. He looked at his chest and to his surprise, he was staring at the body of an infant. Right above his stomach was a strange spiral mark which was the source of the bright yellow glow.
The orange came from the warm light of the hundreds of candles surrounding him in the room he was in. His infant body was lying on some sort of linen blanket at the center of the room. He recognized this room—it was the Main Hall, at the top floor of the Order's Grand Temple. It was where all the meetings were held by the Executives, Commanders, and of course, overseen by the Grandmaster.
Except instead of a meeting consisting of the highest ranking members of the Order, there were only two individuals in the room.
One, a man, was dressed in an Ionian priest's robes and had his long greying hair tied up in a bun. He was kneeling before the other individual, who had one hand on each of the man's shoulders. This second individual was the source of the golden colours. It had a feminine figure and was shrouded in a gold aura that shone so bright that gazing at her was like gazing at the sun. The feminine figure's lips moved but words did not come forth. Instead, its voice sung to them in an ancient language made only of music and for some reason, the kneeling man understood. As did Zachariah.
Give me your hand, it spoke in its ascending notes. The kneeling man obeyed.
Give it to me willingly. You are not submitting to the process. Its chords and descending scales urged. In response, the kneeling man relaxed his arm.
Good, the feminine figure sung before touching the man's palm with three fingers. From his position, Zachariah could not see what the golden figure was doing to the man's hand but he found out soon enough. After the glow faded to a faint yellow in the man's palm, he calmly stood up, walked over and turned his palm over to face Zachariah. In the man's palm was the same spiral symbol on Zachariah's infant chest. Slowly and almost ominously, the man lowered his hand until it gently landed adjacent to Zachariah's spiral symbol. He felt a rush of power surge through his tiny body before his vision went black.
All he could hear was the obnoxiously high pitched arpeggios ringing in his ear. He could only presume that it was the feminine figure's way of conveying laughter.
Excellent. You have stayed faithful to your end of the bargain, old man. The contract has now been formed. Your child will live. The melody of her laughter said.
"Hey Zach—you alright?"
I'm not dumb enough to misinterpret what the vision was implying but . . .
"Zach, speak to me—"
. . . but father would never do such a thing. There's not a chance in hell he would take such a gamble.
"Zachariah!"
Kaleb's concerned voice shattered his daydream like it was glass. Opening his eyes, he was expecting to face the infinite whiteness of the Freljord snow again but was taken aback by the beautiful scenery before him.
Zachariah was lucky to have stopped where he did, because with the snowstorm cleared, he could see where he was standing: at the edge of a cliff. But beyond the cliff were a myriad of different sights. Forestry was scattered about carelessly with patches of snow here and there, decorating the landscape with one confident stroke of life's paintbrush.
"The Avarosan Iceflow Glacier," Zachariah breathed in awe. "I've never visited while it was spring so I didn't expect it to be so . . ."
"Picturesque? Scenic? Yeah—me neither." Kaleb grinned with amazement. "I couldn't imagine such a place existed in Freljord."
"Well, I guess Queen Ashe keeps her land healthy."
Kaleb pointed at the sky. "What's that though?"
"Oh, that," Zachariah smiled. "That's her Hawkshot. She sends out her hawk familiars in random intervals to scout her territory. The familiars keep an eye on everything that happens within the Glacier, so it's hard to sneak in without getting noticed."
"And where does that put us?"
Zachariah chuckled. "It means we've been noticed."
. . .
"I'm Kaleb Reiyver. Thank you for saving mine."
The memory was hazy but she remembered it nevertheless. Out of all the memories, this had to be the one that struck her last. Part of her was grateful it happened while she was unconscious—otherwise, she would've been in significantly greater psychological distress if she had remembered while awake.
"By the way, you know you took my first kiss right? Don't you think that's kinda unfair?" the boy had scrunched up his face in a cute, pouty sort of expression.
"No." she had swiftly replied. "That was how I was taught to save someone's life. By my mentor."
That was true. Zachariah had taught her how to conduct a resuscitation procedure through only that one method.
"Who's your mentor? Kaleb had laughed, giving her a strange look.
"I don't see why I have to reveal such information to you." She remembered her reply had been curt.
"Hey—I liked the other 'you' better. You've put on that cold mask again."
Rosalyn had closed her eyes and sighed. It was strange—she could remember even the smallest details of this memory. Perhaps it was quite the core memory.
"I'm sorry, but I hardly trust you. After all, we technically just met."
"Then where did all that kindness and caring nature of yours come from?"
"If you're talking about when I treated your wounds, it's how I would've treated anyone else's wounds. The doctor must always ease the patient into the procedure in order to ensure a smooth operation." Rosalyn almost forgot how methodical she could sound.
"Hmmm . . . and I almost got deceived by how nice you were acting. I was even thinking to myself about how lucky I was to be treated by one of the most beautif—" Kaleb paused. This scene was most clearly embedded in her memory.
"Forget it," Kaleb had said at the time. "I guess I was wrong. Sorry for being presumptuous."
The boy had turned to leave when he felt a tug at his sleeve. This part—Rosalyn could not remember why she did so—but this part, she had pulled at his sleeve to hold him back. She had something she had to say.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm not really good with . . . other people in general. After 'that' happened . . . I've only ever talked to one person. But you seem like a kind person so . . . so would you be willing to stay as an acquaintance of mine?"
Kaleb had stared at her and then burst out laughing.
"That's a weird way to put it, but sure." He had reached out and shaken her hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance!"
Her memory of the instance ended there. She wasn't sure why, but it didn't really bother her. To be honest, she would rather the memories stop there.
Besides, she could feel it. Her surfacing consciousness. She was starting to wake.
A distant voice called her name.
"Rose . . . Rose, can you hear me?"
Yes idiot, I can hear you. She thought.
"Don't worry, Ekko. Look—her heart-rate is increasing. She starting to regain consciousness."
Can you not narrate my every breath? Rosalyn wished she could open her eyes and glare at Karma.
"Rose—don't worry, you're going to be okay."
I know you imbecile. If you keep pestering me, I'll . . . I'll . . .
I'll what? Hurt you? Kill you? And throw you aside just like I did with—
"Rose what's wrong—are you crying?"
Rosalyn finally found the energy to open her eyes. She was greeted by the sight of Ekko's boyish face, his brown eyes filled with worry. Karma stood beside him, arms crossed, with a small smile on her face.
"I-I'm not." her voice came out a weak rasp. "My eyes are just—"
"Save your breath, Rayven." Karma interrupted. "Don't push yourself. I'm only here to ask a favour. Whether you are willing to help me is completely your choice. I won't hold it against you."
Rosalyn nodded, prompting the Commander-in-Chief to continue.
"I'm looking for a man. I require his expertise on a certain area of Ionian history but I don't think I can find him without your assistance."
"Are you looking for a historian or something? Aren't there a bunch of those old men at the library?" Ekko gave Karma the most clueless look she had ever seen anyone give her.
"No," she laughed. Her false amusement left a bad taste in her mouth. "I'm looking for my older brother. I can't give you all the details yet but I do have a sample of his magic signature. So far, I myself haven't been able to track him using the sample but I'm betting you'll be able to. After all, you're one of the most talented Mages I know."
Flattery doesn't work against me, Rosalyn wanted to say, but whatever.
She nodded and Karma nodded back.
"Thank you. I'm in your debt. We'll start as soon as you fully recover." Karma dipped her head once more, then exited the hospital room.
Checking that Karma wasn't planning on returning to the room, Ekko whispered to Rosalyn.
"Hey Rose."
"Ye-eah?"
"If you're really intent on destroying the Five Kings, doesn't that also mean defeating Karma?"
"That would make sense."
"Then why is she still helping us? And how can we trust her?"
Rosalyn did her best shrug given her limp posture on the bed.
"She wants something from us too . . . so it can be considered a fair exchange." She managed to say without her voice cracking. "Besides, one ally is one less enemy. For now, we'll put our trust in her but we'll be cautious about it."
"I guess that works out . . ." Ekko was still hesitant.
"Think of it this way. Our true goal is not to destroy all Five Kings. It is to destroy only of them, but if any of the others oppose us, we'll strike them down." Rosalyn explained as thoroughly as an ill person could've done. "Remember, the DIVINITY is not our main enemy. The EVOLUTION is."
Phew, I'm uploading this chapter ASAP before I fall asleep. (zZZ) I really need to improve my writing schedules, but I can't help it if I suddenly feel like starting a chapter at 12:00 am midnight :P.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter and as usual, if you like the story so far, FOLLOW it, and if you LOVE the story, FAVORITE it! Let me know your thoughts on the chapter in Comments/Review section below!
Peace!
~Nightrous