Years had gone by since then, and Nero the whole while had been left to himself and his own thoughts. Isolating himself from the world was a step in his ambition to better himself and his powers.

It turned the free-spirited yordle into a surly and rough soul. A while after he had left his mother, he became starved for companionship, and yet nobody was around. He had found himself lost in the wilderness, and without a soul to turn to, he unconsciously withdrew from the world.

He wound around a corner, his wandering leading him along a shore on one of Ionia's many beaches. Now fully grown, he chose an independent life, and the silence sung to his heart.

"The tides are drawing in..." he mumbled to himself, closing an eye.

His mother, with no knowledge of her son's whereabouts, sulked in her home. He, with his mother the last thought on his mind, was a wanderer for most of his life, a nomad. Though he knew his mother must be worried sick about him, not once did he turn back to reassure her of his safety.

No, he had a goal. Revenge. Revenge for his father.

Anger was the emotion he felt the most. What the war between the Noxians and the Ionians did to his father so long ago was unforgivable in his sharp, harsh eyes. With his emotions taking priority over his good mind, he gave into his anger, and would frequently relive the moment his father died. He had to blame someone- anyone for this loss, and the thought of mercy and pacifism left him. Someone would pay for this. Someone had to. Nobody would give him back his kin. Nobody would return his father to him. With these thoughts swirling around in his head, the rage within his heart continued to fester. That rage became the base upon which he forged his strength and growing abilities.

It was his driving emotion.

This isolation was unhealthy. The yordle sat on the sand in front of the shore, breathing in deeply. He breathed with the tides. As they came in, he drew a breath. As they left, he exhaled.

"I wonder if people realize...the world breathes as we do." He turned his head until a crack sounded out and sighed. "Perhaps to truly live is...routine."

It wasn't until he heard a conversation from a distance away that his attention was drawn from the wildlife.

"Where do the gunpowder barrels go, sir?"

"We're near a village. Place them upside the building that's nearest and wait for my command. Our job is to take back what we lost and by any means necessary."

He stood up and walked over the sand some more, now noticing a boat coming into view. It wasn't too big. A bigger ship would no doubt alert the village nearby. The Ionians must not have noticed yet, which was to be expected considering the boat was carefully hidden among the earth that laid out in the water.

Nero raised an eyebrow and moved towards the water, the waves surrounding his torso and carrying him across it. As he drew closer towards the ship, the water launched him upwards, and he grasped the edge of the deck, pulling himself up. His goal was now to find out what this ship was doing here. The words he heard earlier instilled dread in him. Gunpowder barrels...most likely some sort of weapon. And if so, that would mean those Ionians were in danger. Nero trusted that the village could handle itself should anything happen. He was going to confirm his suspicions.

He hid behind the base of a mast and searched for anyone that was still on the deck. His gaze wandered over to a lone man, and the insignia on his back slowly began to enrage him.

These were Noxians.

He gripped the pendant around his neck, growling.

"So where's your captain, huh?" Nero spoke, revealing himself, "You stubborn souls won't leave us alone."

"Eh? Huh, a yordle." The man flinched. "Don't see too many-a those. How did you-?"

"Think he's a spy. Or a trespasser, either one ain't good." Another said, stepping towards the yordle.

"Leave." He glared, he waves around the ship grew harshly, one rising up the side of the ship. "NOW!"

The other members of the crew heard shouting from their boat and looked on in horror as torrents kicked about their ship. With each violent wave, Nero moved fluidly with it, becoming one with his weapon. The pendant was shining brighter than ever now.

Two men were swiped into the sea, others hitting the sand and groaning. It looks like the entire army was back. Nero didn't seem to care.

He sought to drown the Noxians in the rubble of their own ship and have the waves sweep them out to sea. His blind rage began to control him once again. He raised a hand above his head, a wave towering again...

BANG

A gunshot followed, and the wave collapsed into the sea again. Nero choked, sputtering out what tasted of pennies.

He dropped to his knees and collapsed, his vison becoming blurry before darkness swallowed it.

"I...hate...all of y-you..." he forced out, going unconscious.

Hours Later...

He slowly opened his eyes, his wrists bound by rope. A grimace showed itself on his face as he glanced around. Inside the ship...that's where he assumed he was, at least. It was hard to see in the dim room, and there was nothing to stare at, so he closed his eyes.

"Great job, Nero." The yordle groaned. "What possessed you...?"

"I've never seen someone so in madness that they talk to themselves." Another voice was in the room.

Nero jumped, and glanced around, looking towards the voice.

"In madness?"

"It appeared that way." The voice laughed. "If you had fought any longer, you may have gone feral!"

"A battle requires a steady mind. Any error and you've already lost. I make none."

"You've made enough to land yourself in here."

Nero went silent, admitting defeat. The Noxian was right. Perhaps he had made a mistake in choosing to fight. However, he would never admit that.

"Temporarily, Noxian." Nero's voice dripped with venom.

The lights were turned on a bit brighter.

"You know...you could put that power of yours to better use than death wishes."

"Hm?"

Nero glanced down towards himself, seeing bandages on his torso. That was the reason he wasn't standing up. He ached.

"...Death is just a part of war." Nero sighed.

"However right you are, do not be foolish."

"You all want us to die."

"Eh?"

Nero looked up again. "Us. Ionians. Making us suffer again."

"You really have lost it. War has a purpose-"

"Meaningless DEATH!?"

"Conquest. To expand our power as a nation. Unmatched strength. To fit...my vison of Noxus."

The man moved towards Nero to where his face was visible. "By any means necessary."

Nero peered at him. "Who...are you?"

"You may call me Darius."

Nero took a look at his outfit. It looked a lot more fortified and unique than what he'd seen the other soldiers wearing.

"Are you the captain?"

"Sharp eye." Darius smirked. "Then can you guess where we're currently going...?"

"...Noxus."

"Correct again! I know a yordle in Noxus that became a powerful user of the dark arts." He paced the floor. "Your magic is not as focused as his...but with time-"

"What would possibly ever convince me to join as one of you?"

Darius held up a familiar looking pendant. It wasn't until Nero laid eyes upon it that he glanced down towards his chest, seeing nothing but the bandages he'd been wearing.

"GIVE ME THAT!" Nero reached out for the jewelry, but was unable to reach it.

"I'd like to make you a deal."

"I REFUSE!"

Nero grit his teeth and stood up, shuddering. He opened his eyes, unfathomable rage across his face. Every part of him ached, but he pushed through it. Nobody was going to take what was his! Darius' grin only got wider as he saw Nero stand despite his condition. Dare he say it, it was impressive. Nero coughed again, and searched around for a source of water, with there being none. He glanced back towards Darius and stepped forward before collapsing again, wheezing.

"I will hand you this back...after you prove yourself."

"By what means?"

"Through strength, or others if you have anything besides that to offer us."

"I will offer-"

"You could finally have this back. It must mean a lot to you."

Silence swallowed the room.

"I'm assuming you're hesitating." Darius continued. "That anger of yours...it is as great a weapon as your skill as a water mage."

Nero still did not reply. What could he say? Nothing would help him out of this situation. A blade cut the binding on his wrists, and Nero immediately wrapped them around himself.

"...Would you mind informing me on the purpose of this jewelry?" Darius asked. "Or do you value vanity that much?"

"It's not for vanity."

Nero lidded his eyes and looked up at Darius, the glare gone. It was a blank sort of stare, as if he was floating in some sort of void. A completely calm face.

"It's my mother's. Well, used to be."

"An heirloom?"

"...You're just humoring me, aren't you?"

"Am I smiling?"

No, he was not. Nero was stumped again. Darius couldn't believe the yordle in front of him. Noxians were not mindless souls- quite the opposite, actually. Not necessarily noble, but strong all the same. Darius was set on finding some use out of this water mage- he'd make a fine addition to their ranks if he could just control his rage.

Or harness it somehow. Darius realized Nero's error when it came to combat, but he had to find a way to make an agreement before progressing. So far, the pendant seemed to be doing the work for him.

"It's the only connection I have with her." Nero's ears went flat. "Give me it. Please."

"Our deal-"

"I accept."

He caught the tossed pendant and hurriedly put it around his neck. The jewelry seemed to squeeze at Nero's neck. He huffed, the hope blinking in once again, a tiny bit of light.

"...Where..." Facing Darius was painful. "...do we begin?"