Hey all! I'm graduating on May 12th! I'm super fucking stressed out but I managed to scramble two brain cells together to put this out! This story has been on my mind for weeks on end. It is the one story I've enjoyed writing every single bit of!

Tell someone you love them, and have a banger of a day.

Peace!

Chapter 2

Forgiven? Not in the slightest...

"Tell me more about this Shen guy who you were talking to in the tavern."

Yasuo glanced up from the map laid out on the ground, eyes shaded from the harsh sun by the straw hat, to see Lev meditating below a tree.

"Master Shen is the leader of the Kinkou Order, calls himself the Eye of Twilight." Yasuo tracked his finger along the river that led out of the Placidium. He shuddered at the thought of what Irelia would say about him now. He shook his head, "It isn't my place to elaborate, but he, like many other Ionians, have a dark past that they run from."

"Everything runs from darkness. The difference is what you will stoop to in order to escape."

"…"

"Food for thought…I must say, those warriors I fought against were quite impressive, though they didn't amount to much against me. Who were they?"

Yasuo shook his head, "No. This is a transaction, not a charity. My turn to ask a question."

Lev smirked, eyes still closed, and conceded the point.

"Go right ahead."

"What are you?" Silence pervaded. Lev seemed even more amused.

"What do you think I am?"

Yasuo's eyes glanced towards the man, "similar to the way I can feel the Wind call to me, I feel the way the wind calls to you, but it isn't just the wind. I can tell, even with what little connection I have to it, that almost all of nature calls to you in one way or another. You are not human, not fully that is."

Lev's lips twitched. "Hmmm, I suppose you are right. I certainly don't sound human. Not at all."

"So, what are you?" Yasuo asked, though he wondered if he actually wanted to know.

Lev's smirk turned into an almost feral smile.

"Do you believe in Gods, my friend?"

—

Khada Jhin was a man of utmost delicacy, perfection, and punctuality. He had barely finished putting his mask on his face, when the handmaiden he gave a task to had called for him from outside the door. Perfect.

One.

"Excuse me sir, but I have placed the lanterns as you described. One every four feet instead of six." She was a delicate, yet dull, thing. Something that would pass for a fanciful night but nothing more. A nobleman's plaything for the night. He could make her so much more.

"Thank you, darling. Please do inform the innkeeper that I have left the bed untouched. Would you be willing to fix a crease in my cape? The show must be perfect, after all."

Two.

The girl opened the door, and met the business end of a large, intricate handgun. The shot echoed through the inn, and as she fell lifeless to the floor, he caught her gently in a dip. He picked her up carefully and placed her corpse on the bed, strewn out among the flowers. Pallor skin; pallor sheets. Surrounded by a sea of red.

"Ahhhh…the pure beauty of a bouquet. How inspiring a view this is, why even the spirits may weep at such a sight."

When the innkeeper finally managed to bust open the door, the chair in front of it crushing to pieces from the effort, all that was left was the body and the curtains billowing in the wind.

Three.

—

"Do I bow or something?" Yasuo finally replied, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. The sweat pooling there from the blazing sun was starting to get on his nerves. Lev's response went unheard.

It was a wild tale, surely. Another world? Another set of gods? Forget another set, but Gods that also interacted with the world beyond their domain? He glanced at the man who sat comfortably under the tree, as if he hadn't just spilled half his life story. Then again, he had shared the same.

"The Order of Shadows."

"Hm?"

"Those were the warriors you fought. I don't know the full story, but they follow a man called Zed, Master Shen's old friend. Apparently he killed his father."

"Patricide?" At Yasuo's blank look, he realized he didn't understand what he meant, "he killed his own father?"

Seems like not every word transfers cleanly.

"Ah. No, Shen's father."

"Oh."

They were quiet for a minute, Yasuo busy double checking his course on the map; Lev staring at the sky above him. Clouds began to blot out the sun's rays—both men were glad for small mercies.

"So what is this Spirit Blossom festival? We had many festivals back in my world, but a lot of the meaning to them has been lost to time."

"The festival is a time where the boundary between the living and those passed breaks down. Spirits come up from the afterlife to interact with the living…I am hoping to meet my brother's spirit, no matter how small a chance that is."

Lev didn't respond for a bit, the two sitting in an odd silence. Not awkward, yet just tense enough to be slightly discomforting. Lev could practically hear the memories replaying in Yasuo's head, but was content with letting the man think about his past a few more times. He wouldn't grow if he didn't. When Yasuo finally shook his head and stood up, Lev followed him.

—

It was about a week into their journey to Weh'le when they happened upon the battle cries of bandits; Remnants of battlefields past, Noxus and Ionian alike. The boot scum of Runeterra, Yasuo had called them. Lev was inclined to agree, as they most definitely smelled the part.

Taking to the tree line, Lev snuck along the edge of the path towards the screams. Yasuo was hot on his heels. Lev could hear the screams of women in the distance, painful ones. Hopefully nothing too bad had happened just yet.

As they quickly made their way through the trees, feet barely scuffing along the ground, Lev spared a glance towards Yasuo. He saw pure determination and disgust on his face. Good. He wasn't shaken from the talk at least. Or was he just compartmentalizing it all? Either way, he was ready for a fight.

Lev pulled out a pen and his blade shone to life with a clean shing.

Yasuo didn't pay attention to his odd companion's odd weapon and instead pulled out his own blade before charging out of the tree line and into the fight. A quick dash through the fields of wheat brought him within arms reach of the closest bandit. He brought the katana down, nearly slicing the man in half. The bandit went down screaming, grasping at the gigantic gash in his neck.

Yasuo ignored the screams and turned to side step a wild cleave from the largest of the group. The man's axe buried itself into the ground in front of him, leaving him wide open for a quick slash to the throat. His head left his shoulders.

He spotted Lev in the corner of his vision fighting who he assumed to be the leader of the group, what with the bandana wrapped around his arm and bag over his back. In his hand he held a scythe. It wasn't as gory or gothic as Kayn's, of course, but more of a farm tool than a weapon. His footwork was incredible, he had to admit, but it seemed that Lev had the upper hand.

He danced and danced around the bandit, until finally he seemed to have had enough and cut the bandit leader's right hand off. Despite losing a limb, the man attempted yet another low strike, and was disemboweled with a clean strike. He fell to his knees before collapsing entirely.

Lev's blade vanished from view, and Yasuo found himself impressed by the man's skills. He had barely even seen his final strike, and he had been studying the blade for decades.

"Check on the innocents, Yasuo," Lev said, before bending down and rummaging through the bandit's belongings. Yasuo frowned at the man before reluctantly walking over to the shaking civilians.

"My apologies, O-ma, O-fa. We came as fast as we could. Are you hurt?" Yasuo asked.

The old man frowned before looking back at the woman who had fallen to the ground. Yasuo followed his gaze, and his breath nearly caught in his throat.

Harsh memories flooded his head. His hand clenched his sash hard, blood spilling from his hand over the silk cloth. He'd seen her before.

In the battle before the murder of his master, he had seen her—briefly, but he had—and never saw her again. Heat rushed through his veins. He must have scowled because the two elders before him blocked his view of the woman.

He bowed to them, the grimace still on his face, "I'm sorry, but I must ask you to hand her over."

The old man frowned at Yasuo, crossing his arms over his chest in anger. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Yasuo. Not after what you did to your own brother." Yasuo flinched.

"Now wait just a minute, elder. From what I overheard and oversaw, Yasuo knows the lady is a Noxus soldier," Lev interrupted, placing a hand on Yasuo's shoulder. "They shouldn't be allowed to roam freely like this. If it makes you more at ease, I shall swear on my life that no harm shall come to the woman by our hands."

The elderly man's features turned into a scowl, "you should watch your tongue, stranger. She will stay with us, and that is the end of it!"

Yasuo grimaced. Lev frowned. He didn't like that one bit, Yasuo could tell.

"Are you sure you want to do this, sir? I could easily take her by force if it came to it," Lev replied, his sword appearing at his side once more.

"If you kill me, you will be no better than the Noxians. But I wouldn't expect Xirii to understand anything."

"Enough, O-fa." A voice called out behind the elderly man. Their gazes sought out the woman on the ground. She had woken up. "This is the way of things."

Lev pushed past the old man, cutting off any further argument, and held out a hand to the lady on the ground. She stared at it for a second before accepting his help. He suddenly pulled her tight to him, his bandaged hand frisking her back and sides, before finally returning to its home in his clothes.

"She's clean." Lev called back to Yasuo, who had taken to frowning at his companions' lack of tact. This wasn't the way to do things.

Rubbing his forehead, Yasuo bowed once more to the elders, before turning and walking back the way they came. Lev stared at the elderly couple for a few more seconds, before taking a step away from the young girl. He nodded towards them, and she nodded.

The teary goodbye that ensued stirred long forgotten memories in Lev's chest. He squashed them down without mercy, choosing to instead focus on the reactions from his companion.

He probably fucked up. Ionia was a culture that was foreign to him, and he probably just spat on every single tradition and cultural rule in his conversation with the elder. Sighing to himself, he stood in silence while the young lady walked back towards him. Now that he got a good look at her, he could tell instantly that she was a soldier.

Stark white hair, with streaks of gray scattered throughout, sat atop her tanned face. Dark golden eyes stared at him dispassionately.

"Let's go, Noxian."

The girl bristled, "My name is Riven."

"Your name can be Aragorn, for all I care. Users of chemical warfare are all scum to me." Lev's eyes stared daggers at Riven, "and sympathizers are even worse."

She wilted slightly at the intensity of his glare and the harsh words. It was true. She had been a victim of said weapons, after all. But that wasn't the Noxus she knew; the one she grew up in and fought for. Emystan was a traitor to Noxus, in her eyes. But this guy probably didn't care about that. But she had to try.

"I didn't approve of the weapons used. That is not the Noxian way-" she cut herself off when his eyes began to glow.

She lowered her head, and he walked off with her in tow. She tried to peek at the man out of the corner of her eyes. The mask had tickled her curiosity, along with how out of place he seemed in Ionia. His hair had this weird gray streak through it, except the man couldn't have been any older than twenty five summers.

She thought they could have come to an understanding over their mutual unbelonging. That idea was scrapped the minute he called her Noxian. Her past was catching up with her.

"Yasuo may care about traditions and beliefs. He still follows his code of honor. I, however, have no such qualms. If you step out of line, I will bury you under that line." Lev said, staring at the back of Yasuo's head as they caught back up.

She nodded, glaring at the man's back.

"Quit glaring. You're acting like a child." She nearly stumbled. How had he known?

—

"What are you going to do with her, Yasuo?" Lev asked his companion quietly as the fire crackled. The girl had fallen asleep across the camp, a few feet from the fire, and looked to be having a nightmare.

"I have questions. Depending on those answers, I will make my decision then." Yasuo replied, eyes closed, as he meditated in front of the fire.

"And if you don't like those answers?"

"I will fight her. The Wind will determine her fate, then."

"And if you die, what am I to do with your body?"

Yasuo chuckled darkly, "One of the best swordsmen in the world fell before my blade after I had killed off the entire school that chased me. No man in these lands could best me."

"You probably thought that before I came here. Now, seriously, what do you want me to do with your body if you do lose?" Lev's eyes narrowed.

Yasuo scoffed, going quiet for a few seconds, before finally looking at his companion, "I want you to take my body to the Placidium. Seek out the Bladedancer Irelia, she will know what to do from there. Make sure to hand her my blade—she will find a worthy user of it."

"And the girl?"

"…"

"Your silence does not assuage my concerns, friend."

"I'm your friend now?"

"As close to one as I have. I don't promise to haul just anybody's corpse across the country."

"I'd hope not."

"The girl?"

"I…" Yasuo paused. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't sentence her to death. Something in the wind bothered him immensely. It cried out, not against Riven, but for her. His brow furrowed.

"…Let her be." He finally said.

Lev sighed.

Silence fell over the camp. Insects chirped and squealed over the roar of the fire. Lev stared at the burning sticks.

"When I was twelve years old, I was told that I would die at sixteen." Yasuo glanced at him, a curious glint in his eyes. He hadn't heard of this earlier.

"Some silly prophecy that had been spoken of a century ago apparently had my name written all over it. Very long story short, one of the closest friends I had ended up betraying us. He…" Lev paused, his eyes closing. It still hurt him to talk about Luke. "He was the closest thing I had to a father figure. Kind, witty, and helpful at every turn, I considered him one of my best friends outside of Grover. Then one day, he brings me out to a creek, and tries to kill me."

Yasuo stared at Lev.

"He ended up saving us when the shit hit the fan. Stabbed himself to prevent a Titan from resurrecting himself. It was then I learned that I wouldn't die."

Lev chuckled, wiping a tear from the corners of his mask. "It took my best friend turned enemy dying in my arms to realize that I wasn't ready for my death. I had thought myself prepared for my final moments. From twelve to sixteen, I was throwing myself into trouble nearly every day, all because I thought the Fates wouldn't let me die before I was ready."

Silence.

"I was stupid…"

"How so?" Yasuo asked, more because the silence after the statement was far too long for his tastes.

"Instead of appreciating what I had, I agonized over what I wouldn't have. A wife, a family, a girlfriend, a job. And when it came down to it, the girl I loved had nearly died because of my recklessness."

Lev stared across the fire into Yasuo's eyes, "Hugging my mother the night I was supposed to die, I realized then that dying a foolish death will not help…it will only hurt those around you. If you fight her, you either win or you carry your own corpse to Irelia. I shall not have your death on my conscience, too, nor will I be the bearer of bad news."

Yasuo's heart clenched at the lifeless stare that threatened to consume his sanity. He hadn't fully realized it until just now. That stare wasn't human. That wasn't a human that stared at him from across the fire. But he acted more like one than others he knew.

"My name is Perseus. You may call me Percy, Lev, or by my full title: The Leviathan."

He nodded his head as the man stood up. He moved over to a nearby tree, one that was right next to Riven's place on the forest floor.

"What is a Leviathan?"

Perseus looked up at him, and the stare nearly froze his blood. The whispered words drifted on the wind and tore the air from his lungs. Perseus hadn't spoken.

"Abbadon, they called him. The Destroyer of Worlds. Dies irae."