"Shen!" Kennen screamed. He ran up the incredibly long staircase that led to Shen's room, panic overtaking him. However, the moment he reached the entrance Shen was already there waiting, arms crossed. "Shen we have to -" he was silenced by a finger to his lips.
"I know, Kennen." he muttered. Shen had been observing the group as they left, and could immediately tell that Akali was out of line. "Let us not waste time then." Kennen nodded, and the two escaped the temple at lightening speed.
They hurriedly followed in the footsteps of the group, jumping over any sort of obstacle and pushing aside tree branches that may have been in the way. Although Shen was certainly fast compared to the average person, Kennen was evidently much faster due to his lightening rush. Shen tried to his best to keep up with the little ball of lightening, but it was getting harder and harder as their journey progressed.
Kennen seemed to notice this, and stopped using the ability so that his speed matched Shen's. Shen smiled. "Thank you, Kennen" he panted. Kennen simply nodded in his direction.
Suddenly, Kennen stopped in his tracks, stunned. Shen stopped beside him, confused. He looked in Kennen's direction questionably. "Blood." He kneeled down, tracing a small pool of the red liquid below him. Shen's eyes widened at the sight. Kennen's shut his eyes in what seemed to be frustration. He opened them again, resuming his standing position. He sighed. "And there's lots of it."
Shit. Shen slowly followed the crimson trail, Kennen right behind him. They were both horrified; the trail seemed to grow wider and wider as they progressed. The two ninjas began running in panic, franticly trying to find the source of the vital fluid. What if I'm too late?! Memories of when the temple was taken over swarmed Shen's mind, the inability to save everyone making him drown in guilt and sorrow. Although in a mental dilemma, his face remained unaffected.
At least that's how most people would perceive it. Kennen on the other hand was superb at interpreting emotion. No matter what mask Shen put on, he could always see right through it. He slowly raised a paw and patted Shen's shoulder in a comforting manner. "It's alright Shen; I'm sure he's fine."
Shen usually hated how easily he could be read by Kennen, but in this particular moment he did appreciate the kind gesture. He nodded, and resumed pursuing the trail.
Faint groans and painful sobs could be heard from the distance. The two sped up at the sound; there was hope after all. As they ran, the noises became more prominent, and a large sword came into view. As they approached it, the scene mortified them. There lay Yasuo, beneath him a large, thick pool of blood. His skin was sliced in multiple parts of his body, distinctly from Akali's kamas. But what disturbed him most of all was the shimmering sword that pierced through Yasuo's chest, tainted by his own blood. Shen gasped, quickly running to Yasuo's side.
"Please" Yasuo groaned, pleading teary eyes looking towards Shen. Shen's eyes widened, the sight reminding him greatly of the temple and the multiple bloodied heaps that begged for him to save their lives. He quickly shook off the thought, returning to the problem at hand. He knelt down beside him with a light splash as his knees collided with the blood on the ground. Hastily, he began tending to the deep gashes throughout his body. He gasped as a weak hand gripped his wrist, Yasuo's head turning toward him slowly. He groaned again, a pained gasp escaping him as he began to speak again. "Please… Just end it please" he pleaded. Shen placed his hand over Yasuo's, uncaring eyes meeting weak, sorrowful ones. "A true samurai" he paused, eyeing the sword that impaled him "would never allow such pitiful words to escape his mouth."
The once defeated, sorrowful chocolate eyes lit up to ones of questioning. He opened his mouth to speak, interrupted by a wince as Shen's fingers met one of the larger gashes. Shen noticed this, surprised he hadn't screamed aloud. Most people wouldn't be able to handle such pain in a contained manner. Experimentally, he poked at the gash again. Yasuo winced once more, a small groan escaping him. Kennen's brow furled in disapproval at the action. "Shen what are you-" Shen shushed mid sentence. Shen brought his eyes to the samurai's once more. "You certainly are not weak" he said, as if answering Yasuo's questions. "Do not give up when you've gotten this far." He sighed, adjusting himself on the earth beneath him. "If I gave up, many people would've died, and my soul would certainly decay along with them." Yasuo looked up toward him, half lidded eyes bordering on unconsciousness. A choked noise escaped him, tears flowing freely down his face. Shen held the hand around his wrist tighter. "...Why" Yasuo breathed out. Shen was about to speak again, until the samurai's eyes slowly shut, drifting into unconsciousness.
"I've never seen you so caring toward someone, Shen" the yordle whispered. Shen nodded in turn. He was right though, Shen was even surprised at the way he acted toward Yasuo. There was something about him that made Shen feel as if he needed to protect him. Almost like a mother would to her child. He couldn't explain why though, which frustrated him even more. He shook his head, clearing it of his mental ramblings and looking toward the bloodied soldier before him.
"He's going to need more medical attention than what we can offer here." Shen stated. "I'll transport him back to the temple." Kennen bowed, understanding what Shen meant. Without another word, the yordle dashed into the forest toward the direction of the temple, leaving the two by themselves.
Placing gentle hands on the sword, Shen carefully removed the sword from Yasuo's chest. Blood spilled everywhere, painting the samurai's ivory chest a deep crimson. Afterward, Shen quickly grasped Yasuo's hands, murmuring ancient Ionian script he had memorised from healing his comrades. The deep gap where the sword once rested began to close, alongside the other gashes that adorned his body. With an elongated haa, a magnificent violet aura surrounded the two, and in an instant they teleported to Shen's room within the temple.
By now, Shen was panting, having used a significant amount of energy to save the samurai's life. With what little energy he had left, he lifted the man up and placed him on the large bed as gently as he could. Out of breath, he collapsed next to him. He slowly started breathing normally, trying as best he could to relax and regain the energy he lost. As he did, he eyeballed his work. Yasuo seemed untouched, only scars remained from the previous butchering. Slow, quiet breaths escaped the samurai, his breathing returning to normal. Color began returning to his once pale face, signaling sufficient blood flow. Relieved, Shen sat up.
From a short distance, he hovered over the unconscious samurai. He noticed a long scar that ran across his face, traveling over his nose. It certainly wasn't from Akali, the wound was old and was definitely from a sword. Glowing yellow eyes began to travel down his face, examining his features. He looked incredibly Ionian; the long, thick dark hair alongside his long, dark almond eyes. Gently, he placed a hand on the man's face, tracing the scar that ran through it. There was something about that scar that drew him towards the samurai, but he couldn't quite figure it out. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. He quickly withdrew the hand as his breaths came out quicker. What the hell was that?! Maybe he was just tired, he concluded. He removed himself from the bed, covering Yasuo with the thick white comforter, and retreated to the floor. He lied down, staring at the cream colored ceiling. Slowly, he shut his eyes and drifted to sleep.