Authors Note: Welcome back everyone! Sorry this has taken so long for me to get to but I hope many of you are still reading. It might take me thirty years but I promise I will finish this series even if the lore of Riot starts contradicting what I write. So here is the prologue for the third installment. Enjoy!

Prologue:

Nasus awoke with a shudder. How long had it been since he last slept? He couldn't remember. Yet the dream was still a vivid capture in his mind. He could still see the face of the young man, the pain and agony he endured. Yet it wasn't the boy that kept plaguing his mind, but rather the enemy he faced. The dark hue that haunted dreams and awoke those with any sense of self preservation. It was an enemy Shurima had only faced once, and they had lost that fight.

Yet still, it was only a dream. Rousing himself from his chair, Nasus gripped hold of his weapon and examined the current state of the library. The ever-shifting buttresses, floors, and walls formed a maze-like pattern that would make any architect dizzy. Some paths rounded in a never-ending spiral around a dais that looked to continue forever, others made abrupt sharp turns or floated away over a vast open space that led to sheer darkness. To anyone this would look like a prison, but Nasus felt a kinship to this place than any within the walls of the sun-disk capital.

Tapping the butt of his weapon twice against the floor, the walls around Nasus spread apart and revealed a triage of shelves containing literary works he had acquired over the years. Many were originals, but there was one in particular he sought. The musky and murky scent reached his snout as he faced his right and grabbed hold of a rather colorless tome and flipped it open with one hand. Inside were many depictions of ancient magic and sorceries, some dated older than Nasus himself, yet one page was rather peculiar. A pentagonal spiral was all it showed, but below it described the most powerful seal to ever be constructed by ancient hands. It was the same seal that permeated the chest of his greatest enemy. Yet nothing he knew could break it. There was no weakness to the seal, and no matter how long or hard Nasus poured over the pages, he could not find a single answer to his question.

Taking a deep sigh, Nasus replaced the tome and tapped on the floor once more. The walls and stairwells realigned themselves once more this time revealing a series brightly lit doorways that hung in space as if tearing through reality itself. Nasus stepped through the nearest one and watched as the scenery before him changed.

No longer did a shifting landscape color his view, but rather an immaculate hall ordained with gold. On the tapestries depicted figures of battles long fought and won, histories of emperors and gods battling forces and slaying enemies. Yet all of that glamour was nothing compared to the giant throne at the head of the room. Each aspect of it was carved in solid jade and decorated with gold filling and a marble base… but it was cracked. Each surface and joint that had been masterfully crafted was broken; it was a surprise it could even support the weight of the one who sat upon it.

The occupier was nothing short of a leader. Glowing bright gold, the ascended god-king of Shurima looked at Nasus through the slits in his helmet that were shaped like the eyes of a hawk. Towering over any mere mortal, this man was a bond between a predatory bird and man, the strongest aspect of each being the most prominent. Among his visage was bronze and golden colored armor that entrapped his form in a state of utmost protection where the only thing visible was the beak at which he spoke from.

Nasus knelt to the ground. "Emperor Azir."

Azir raised his hand upward and beckoned. "Rise my old friend. Tell me, has there been any changes to what we had discovered?"

"I am afraid not," Nasus replied, standing straight. "There is nothing about breaking the seal on Xerath. Either he took those records with him or destroyed them."

Azir sighed and rose from his throne. Walking around he stood at the nearby window that looked down into the valley below.

"The people fear me," Azir began, "the battle between myself and the mage has left them terrified. Even now, our forces clash and bring about destruction."

"The people flock to you," Nasus encouraged, "ever since your return, you have had support amongst all of Shurima."

"I appreciate your kind words, but what I need is honesty. I need your wisdom. You have wandered these sands for as long as I have been asleep. You have seen what has been lost and what can be achieved. I see a divided nation, places that wish independence despite my return. I see cities that support Xerath and his cruel machinations. I see foreign countries owning land that once belonged to us. We fight an uphill battle."

Nasus contemplated his answer for a moment. It was true that there was much work to be done, but nothing had brought more clarity to Nasus's mind than when he heard of his emperors return.

"You have many friends, my emperor," Nasus began, "the young heir to your bloodline and the stone thrower Taliyah. Champions new and old beckon to your call. I do understand this struggle and worry, but the deaths of those people are not yet on your hands so long as you keep rising to defend them."

"And yet their suffering would not exist at all had it not been for me."

Nasus grimaced. "We have all made mistakes that we regret. There is not a time in passing that I have not mourned what I did that day. Yet there is hope for redemption. Much of this generation has experience we do not. And if there is one thing I have gleamed from their struggles it is this: do not give in to despair."

Azir chuckled. "You have become quite the optimist. Where is that structured realism and scholarly advice?"

"Still here when it is appropriate."

"I suppose that is a fair statement, though that does not sway some of my less immediate concerns."

"You mean the monsters that roam the desserts and attack the villages?" Nasus inquired.

"Not just. I know some of these are Xerath's doing, yet I cannot help but draw my attention to the disturbing rumors of those villages on the edge of our lands. Those that are said to disappear in an instant and breed monsters of horrible design."

A slight image of the last night's dream flashed in Nasus's head. "You mean those near the old Icathia?"

Azir nodded. "I understand you fought these creatures, these voidborn."

"I have, yet I was not there when the tragedy of the Darkin befell. From then on, the corruption has remained silent. Until now."

"I am afraid I am still too young to have seen that devastation," Azir admitted, "I had barely experienced life as a human before the Sun-Disk fell. My experience is still that of a mortal. What are they like?"

Nasus shivered, gripping his staff harder. "They are… vile." He said at last. "There is no form they cannot take. There is no object they will not consume. The very ground beneath their feet could be their sustenance and their weapon. They are born from an endless hunger, my emperor. One that cannot be satiated no matter how much they feed."

Azir looked skyward, his gaze lost in the vast heavens that began to appear as the sun set. The pair sat in silence for what seemed like hours as the darkness of the world came into the fold and the moon lit up the dunes with reverence.

"I had a dream last night, Nasus," Azir admitted, "It seems as if it has been forever since I dreamed. I stood atop the remains of a broken sun disk. In the sky there were no stars, no sun, and no moon. Pitch dark reigned above as the sands and valleys of this once great nation vanished slowly before my eyes, like something I could not see were consuming it. In my hand was not my weapon, but rather the seal that kept the power of Xerath contained. What am I to make of this?"

Nasus approached his eminence but made sure to stay a few steps behind him. Looking out through the window, he watched as the wind carried sands away from the city walls, and the lights that began to fill he homes of the newest denizens. It was a nostalgic scene, and yet he could not help but imagine the painting of despair which could come from its loss.

"I have always been wary of dreams. Much like prophecy, many often attempt to avoid the outcome only to seal its achievement."

"Should I just ignore it then?" Azir asked.

Nasus shook his head. "You have been blessed by the sun disk, and as such there are many powers at your disposal that might have yet to be realized. Prophetic dreams could indeed be one."

"Then what am I to do about it then?"

"Focus on the present," Nasus said adamantly, "Often one can be so focused on the reinforcements past the horizon they forget the enemy right in front of them. Yet that doesn't mean one should forget the warnings of the future. Only that they must be taken into account."

Azir seemed thoughtful, then turned a beaming gaze to his friend. "Whatever the future may bring my friend, know that I will always value your input."

Nasus had barely opened his mouth when the horns in the outer corridor sounded and the immense hall entrance burst open. In walked a larger man of simple stature and status. Clothed in the garments of a messenger, he slid to a halt and crouched on all fours with the crown of his head placed among the tiles.

Azir's composure returned immediately to one of a commanding presence and he returned to his throne. Nasus moved to stand beside him.

There was a small measure of silence in the room as Azir's aura began to fill the room with a permeated glow. Reaching out a taloned hand, he lifted it gently before giving the command.

"Arise," he echoed.

Surrounding the hall spun a torrent of sand as if a storm was raging. In eight separate locations the grains coalesced and collected into forms that had become quite familiar to Nasus. Golems of soldiers made from sand stood tall and erect, each one wielding spears of a bronze sheen. On their forms were armor made of the same substance, the only color came from the shoulder pads and the crown of their helmets where emerald gemstones rested in glistening fashion.

"Speak," Azir commanded.

"Your eminence," The messenger greeted, "I have urgent news from our northernmost cities. The countries of Valoran have united under a truce. Their reasoning has yet to be uncovered."

Azir froze for but a moment, then dismissed the messenger. The moment the doors closed, he relaxed slightly in his chair and pondered the information.

"If Valoran has ended it's petty disputes, that can only imply something of far greater import has drawn their attention."

Nasus nodded in agreement. "Could Shurima's rise be such a cause?"

Azir's gaze turned sour as he contemplated the potential. "If it has, we shall be ready. They will soon find that to challenge Shurima is to challenge fate."