That Night in Noxus

Zacan swung the door of his hut open, a crossbow on his back and a sword on his hip. He'd grabbed the black studded armor the military had supplied him as well as a black mask and any other dark clothing he had that could shroud him in the Noxian night. The only thing that could hinder his stealth was the bag strapped across his body, holding a few days worth of food and all the gold he'd saved up over the past few years.

He scanned his immediate surroundings before moving even an inch. Thankfully, no signs of life seemed to be nearby. He closed the door behind him and started moving.

It was late enough that even the night-owls of the city were more than likely passed out drunk somewhere. Consequentially, he managed to get down quite a bit of road without seeing a single soul. After some time though, as he got closer to the city's middle walls, he began to catch the eyes of a few people passing by.

Zacan kept his head down, trying to walk at a pace slow enough as to not rouse suspicion. Sweat soaked his brow the closer to the walls he got, trying to decide if just going through the city's gates was a worthy gamble. He knew of a couple gaps he could sneak through along the middle and outer walls, but he also knew certain folks tended to keep an eye on them.

As the main gate came into sight, he noticed multiple guards lounging around the checkpoint, clearly itching for something exciting to happen. He figured it would be smart not to give them the opportunity and took a hard left to find a hole in the wall he'd used many times while growing up.

He'd found the hole in no time and scrambled through it quietly, picking up his pace to hurry towards the outer wall.

Just as he was starting to think he'd get away with no problems, he came face to face with one of the last people he wanted to see.

Kalrok, another young solider that he'd trained with for years at the academy. Someone he'd inevitably be recognized by.

Zacan tried to turn his eyes away from Kalrok before he could recognize him, but it was too little too late.

"Zacan? What're you doing in the outer wall? Don't you leave in the morning?" His shrill voice was dripping with suspicion. The two of them had never got along, and the odds of Zacan convincing him he wasn't up to anything were slim to none. His heart started to race as the realization of what could happen kicked in.

"Uh- Hey Kalrok, just can't sleep, you know? Not gonna be home for quite a while, just a lot to think about." He tried to make his voice as confident as possible but he knew his nerves bled into his words.

"So you're taking a midnight stroll wearing all black with a traveling bag?" Kalrok's voice was nothing but hostile. He stood tall over Zacan, who could feel himself begin to panic. Kalrok reach for his axe resting on his back. "You need to come with me, Zacan. I'm taking you to the commander."

Zacan took a step back, reaching for his sword. "I can't let you do that, Kalrok. Please just let me keep walking."

Kalrok's face contorted into a wicked grin. "So you are leaving, then? I always took you for a coward, but I never thought you'd stoop so low as to defect." He spoke with bitter hatred as he held his axe in both hands, shifting his feet into an offensive stance.

Zacan's nerves began turning to anger as he held the man's gaze. He pulled his sword from its sheath and held an opposing stance. Their fight would certainly bring attention to them, if he could even beat Kalrok, he would have to make it quick.

He shook his head. If he could beat Kalrok? If he wanted to live a life of his own, if he wanted to live in general, this was something he had to do. This wasn't the time for failure.

Before long, Kalrok made the first move. He swung his axe from above, aiming for the head.

Zacan swung his sword into the side of the axe, bouncing it to the left of him. At the same time, he moved to the right and aimed a counterattack at the man's thigh.

Just before he could pierce Kalrok's leg, the man smashed his shoulder into Zacan's chest, shoving him back. He followed up with another attack, hurling the blade of his axe upwards towards Zacan. Zacan dodged backwards with less than a second to spare, stumbling a bit before regaining his poise.

He swung at Kalrok. Kalrok swung at him. They kept throwing blows without success until Kalrok's axe managed hit the base of his sword at just the right angle to disarm him. Terror shot into his head as he watched his only weapon fly feet away from him.

He looked back to his opponent just in time to see the axe closing in on his face. Without time to properly dodge, his instincts kicked in and Zacan instead put his hands forward, catching the handle of the weapon. Agony shot through his arm, it took all of his strength to stop the blow before it landed. Before Kalrok could fully react, Zacan kicked him hard in the chest, pulling hard on the axe at the same time.

The soldier's grip loosened just enough for Zacan to rip it from his hands and toss it to the side. Relief and a glimpse of celebration flowed through Zacan before it was cut short by Kalrok tackling him to the ground.

Kalrok easily overpowered him, pinning him to the ground. He slammed his fist into the side of Zacan's face, and again, and again.

Hope left Zacan with every blow. He was so foolish to think he could ever really escape this horrible nation of his. A naïve child who wanted to escape his cruel home.

No. An icy voice rang inside of his head, making his muscles tense and eyes shoot open.

It was a moment where he had no thoughts of his own. He simply followed his instincts. Instincts he didn't know he had.

His hands shot to Kalrok's face, gripping at his cheeks. He felt the warmth of his blood, the power of his lifeforce. He closed his eyes, and felt that energy transfer into his own body, making him feel warm. Pleasant, even. Kalrok began grunting in pain, cursing in confusion.

He opened his eyes to see Kalrok's face losing its color, the hatred plastered on it turning to a look of exhaustion. He furrowed his brow, gripping onto the man's face even harder and pulling more and more of that energy into his own body. The warmth spread over him as though he were taking a hot bath in the middle of winter. His body screamed, begging for more.

Kalrok's color had turned to a translucent white as his muscles tightened against bone. He was withering into nothing in Zacan's hands, and he began to feel euphoria empower his entire being as the man above him started to scream.

When the warmth stopped flowing, Zacan threw the corpse off of him, practically light as a feather. He glanced at the remains, now reduced to nothing more than dull leather wrapped around brittle bone.

Zacan got to his feet, breathing in the world around him. He fell into sensory overload, every source of energy and power around him began calling to him, particularly the 3 guards on their way to investigate the noise. He took a deep breath and focused solely on the most tempting of power sources.

He ran swiftly in the direction of the guards, paying no mind to whatever threat they posed to him. At an intense speed he lunged at one of them, grabbing him by the throat and ripping all of the life he could from the guard's body as quickly as possible.

A second guard to his right made a move against him, swinging his sword at Zacan with all of his strength. Zacan's body moved on its own, he pivoted and took a step back, putting the guard he held by the throat in between himself and the sword.

The sword slashed into the other guard, nearly cutting him in half as Zacan continued to hold him. Turning behind him as another guard ran up, Zacan hurled the injured guard with inhuman strength, the body crashing into the third guard.

Zacan focused the intense power he felt into his right arm and stared at the guard who'd attacked him. The man looked afraid, but he made another attack despite himself.

Zacan dodged it thoughtlessly and before the man could think, Zacan's fist was hurtling towards him, smashing into his chest and sending him flying backwards. The guard's body skipped against the pavement like a stone skipped water.

Zacan looked back at the third guard, still trying to shove the body of his comrade off of himself. Zacan began cackling to himself in a low voice as he slowly approached the guard helplessly struggling. He wasn't thinking, he wasn't even trying to control himself, he just wanted the warmth, and to leave this place.

He looked down at the last guard, relishing in the terror he wore on his face. Slowly, he crouched down to grab the man's face. He drained every drop of energy the man had, watching as he contorted beneath his ally's body in a struggle to escape, a struggle to live.

After there was no life left to steal from his victim, Zacan got back to his feet, picked up his sword from where it had landed, and sprinted through the gates and out of his home city. He kept running, and running, and running, not stopping for a moment. Not seen by a single living soul.

5 Years Later

"Are you just upset we tied last time, Vi?" Khar asked smugly. As humble as he tried to be, the pink haired brawler managed to bring out an intense fighting spirit in him.

She cracked her neck. "If you wanna call that a tie, sure. I wanna smack you around a bit, humble you before you get to the tournament."

Khar and Vi had a funny sort of a "friendship." They didn't particularly like each other, and they never hung out, but they would spar every few months to give each other a good workout. They'd met when Khar had tried to intervene at a bank robbery, him not realizing you couldn't just do that without the police even knowing who you are.

They didn't arrest him, but Vi had been annoyed at his "arrogance" for thinking he could handle it, and wanted to "bring him down a peg."

"Guess I could use the ego boost before I leave." Khar grinned as he started to draw in energy. "In the street, or you wanna go somewhere a little more enclosed?"

"Just don't break anything, or I'll give you a ticket." Vi said, pulling back her fist as it spit steam from its knuckles.

He knew what was coming, and timed it out in his head. He needed just a bit more energy.

She launched fist-first from where she was standing straight for Khar. The second he saw her start to move he pushed off the ground as hard as he could, jumping clear above her path. She recovered just as he landed back on the ground, both turning to face each other.

Khar dashed forward at top speed before she could make another move, moving as much energy as he could from his legs to his arms before throwing a punch. She didn't move to block the hit as it smashed into her chest, a metallic ring bouncing off of the impact.

The punch didn't have as much power as he was hoping for. She recovered much faster than he did and grabbed his arm with one of her gloves, slamming the other into his stomach. Khar flew back a few feet, landing on his back just a foot away from a hextech car.

"Careful, fat-hands! You're the one who's gonna break something!" Khar shouted as he jumped to his feet.

"Don't call me that!" She grunted as she up her fist again.

"Faat Handsss!" He sneered, taking the moment to gather more energy.

She let out a battle-cry, bursting forward almost too far for Khar to react to. Almost.

Just as her fist was about to make impact, he put his arms together and thrust them up in front of him. He released all the energy from his forearms at the moment her attack landed, making a small explosion of energy that sent both of them flying backwards, Khar managing to land on his feet.

Vi, on the other hand, stiffly skidded across the street. Khar evenly distributed the rest of his energy to his limbs, briefly taking in more as Vi recovered.

Vi sluggishly got to her feet with raw anger painted all over her face. "Alright bitchboy, enough playing around." She said through clenched teeth as she stomped towards him.

Khar finished gathering energy and got into a defensive stance. "Let's wrap it up then."

Vi hurled a terrifying right hook. Khar ducked under the attack, throwing a jab into her stomach. She retaliated with a punch that landed squarely against his shoulder, knocking him to the ground with a thud. Making sure not to lost focus, he rolled out of the way of another hard hit and sprung back to his feet.

Vi was already making another move though, and Khar just barely managed to avoid another hit. He threw a jab at her unguarded side, breaking her form, and slammed into her chest making her stumble backwards for a moment. Without hesitating, Khar directed the rest of his energy into his right hand and aimed for Vi. He smashed his fist into her, sending her flying backwards quite a few feet, her armor scraping against the street's pavement.

Khar suddenly felt how red hot his hand was and shook it in attempt to relieve it. After a moment the itching heat started to fade and he directed his attention to Vi, still lying in the street.

He approached her as a smug grin grew on his face. "So, think we can call our record even now?"

She hissed in pain as she sat up on the pavement. "You know what, Khar? I guess I can settle for even." She gave him a softhearted grin and got up to her feet, brushing the dust and dirt from her clothes. "If you can go even with me, I'm sure you have a half-decent shot at winning that tournament."

Khar scratched the back of his head, he wasn't exactly used to Vi saying anything positive about him. "Thanks, Vi. Means a lot to have you in my corner."

She removed one of her gauntlets, letting it drop into her other hand, and offered the unarmored hand out to him. "Make us proud, energy boy."

He nodded confidently and grabbed her hand, giving it a firm handshake. "Will do."

They shared a look of mutual respect earned by all of their previous sparring, and then each let go of the other's hand. "Make sure you swing by the station before you leave bigshot, I'm sure Cait wants to say bye. too"

"I will. Have a good night Vi." Khar said cheerfully, turning back to his original path.

"You too, Khar." Vi said, turning back towards the station downtown.