Sorry to say, but I don't think we're going to have many more wholesome chapters for a while after that last one (except for maybe one slightly steamy chapter soon ;) ). I'm also going to be trying my best to insert some characters from Runeterra into this story. I have an idea for a little something that involves one of my favorite champions in terms of lore too. You should be able to see the beginnings of that in this chapter.
Irelia woke up alone, but she didn't panic. Connor always woke up early to get things done, she wasn't even sure if he actually slept in the first place. She laid there in his bed, taking in the smell of his bedsheets and pillow. He had a very unique smell, somewhat like a rainy night mixed with spruce. She wasn't sure if anyone had ever had the chance to be as close to the shade as she had, but that was perfectly okay with her.
She sat up, noticing a fresh set of clothing set down on a chair by the bed. Somehow Connor had gotten her fresh clothes that suited her. She disliked traditional female clothing, especially the clothing human women wore. She found dresses too revealing and awkward to move in.
After deciding not to put her headdress back into her hair and dressing, Irelia walked down the stairs of the treehouse, her blades silently following. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she saw him. Her now mate sat on the couch alone, reading from a book she didn't recognize. "Good morning, Connor." She smiled, contempt with the fact that he truly wanted to be with her.
"Irelia." He nodded, patting a spot on the couch next to him. She moved to sit down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"What are your plans for today, Connor?" She moved a hand to his leg, not even hiding her intentions.
"I have no plans other than meeting with Oromis in order to observe Murtagh and Thorn's training." He put his hand on top of hers, stopping her from getting any closer to his belt. "I like you with your hair completely free. You're even prettier." He blushed as she kissed him on the cheek.
"Well, how about instead of that… you spend the day with me?" She winked at him, grabbing the book out of his hands and setting it down on the table. She moved herself closer to him, her whole body up against his. A warmth started to grow between the two.
"I would love to simply spend the day with you, Irelia. Is there anything you'd wish to do?"
"I wish that you would take my hints! How can you not notice me trying to take off your belt? Or me literally letting you on top of me last night? Why must you hesitate if you want me and I want you?" She leaned in close, her breath hot in his ear, "And I want you."
He chuckled, "Not a good time, I'm afraid. I don't know when a good time will be, but know that I'm not avoiding you, Irelia." Her blades swished through the air behind her, as if frustrated.
"Fine. Tell me a story then. A story about anything."
He nodded. "I shall tell you a story. Would you like to lay down?" She nodded and he moved to the end of the couch, allowing her to lie down with her head in his lap.
"You know, I was willing to be facing the other direction a minute ago, and who knows? Maybe I still am." She smiled up at him, her diamond eyes shining.
"Do you want a story or not?" She nodded, and he started his story. "This story is much like the story of your forest's Menoa Tree, a couple of old friends told me this story. There was once a man, he was very lonely, because all things had to meet this man, for he was the ruler of the dead. One day, once he couldn't take it anymore, he took an axe and split himself right down the middle. So he would always have a friend." He paused, reaching a hand down to run through her hair. "Now that he was broken in half, quite literally, he was never too far from his other half. But his other half had to leave, for it needed to become the ruler of the living. That is where the quote 'never one, without the other' comes from. The dead cannot exist without the living, and the living cannot exist without the dead."
Irelia held her breath as she listened to his short story. After he finished, she let out a sigh, a thoughtful look on her face. "That was an interesting story. Who told you that?"
"It is hard to describe who it is that told me this story. They are very similar to the man described in the story, yet different. I have met them a few times, they call themselves 'The Kindred' as they are not complete without each other. I hope one day I will be able to help you meet them, although I fear that you won't be able to come back from meeting them."
"Why is that?" She reached up to feel the muscles on his arm running through her hair.
"The Kindred is the embodiment of death, yet life itself. You must die in order to meet them. I am not proud to say that I have died before, Irelia. I was dead, and then… I wasn't."
Irelia looked lost, "Have you told Oromis about this!?" He nodded. She sighed, somewhat relieved that she wasn't the first person to know. "I don't know what to do with that information, but I'm glad you're here now." She kissed his hand as he took it out of her hair. "Would you tell me more stories? And maybe put your hand back? Or put it lower on my body if you so wish." She grinned up at his flushed face. "What was it like to be brought back?"
"I cannot remember much, but I do recall Kindred pushing me back to the mortal plane. I assume that somehow the king is able to control them."
"That is… concerning." She pushed her body closer to his, "Would you tell me another story?"
"I can tell more stories. Some are true, some I don't know if they are true or not."
Irelia sat up suddenly, turning to look Connor in the eyes. She slowly moved towards his face, kissing him and falling down on top of him on the couch. "Tell away, my love." She moved away from his face, trailing kisses down his neck.
"I w-will tell you the story of a-a long forgotten entity from a land far from here. There was once a man who was chosen by h-his god… to be the defender of his lands. Could you calm down? This is getting hard." He was still trying his best to tell his story.
"I want it to get hard." Irelia laughed, slowing down her efforts before lying her head on his chest, calming down to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
He ignored her comment. "Thank you. As I was saying, this man was chosen to become the defender of his lands. He had been the greatest warrior his lands had ever seen. When he was chosen, he gained god-like powers and near invincibility. Hundreds of years went by where he defended his lands, until the void arrived. An apparently sentient being appeared out of nowhere, in the outskirts of his land. This being took the appearance of a massive canyon-like crack in the middle of the otherwise sandy lands. Powerful creatures began to crawl out of this crack in reality, known as creatures of the void. Many fought to protect the land, some even venturing into the crack to try and destroy it from the inside. Our previously mentioned warrior did just that. He fought his way through the endless horde of void creatures, but was eventually felled. In his death, he fell into the crack, imprisoned for centuries. After the entire world had forgotten about their strongest warrior, that is when he rose." Connor reached around Irelia, hugging her tight, and kissed her forehead.
"My stories are nowhere as interesting as these, please continue." She reached over to squeeze his hand.
"When he rose, he had regained his previous powers, but hundreds of years spent within the void had granted him unknown powers with unknown consequences. Hundreds of years of complete solitude led him to madness, and all he wished for was death at that point. But he still rose, darkened by the void. His blade had completely changed, it gave off an eerie feeling, as if almost alive. From that point, he sought nothing but destruction. Our risen hero stormed through the lands in search of a foe that could end him, killing everyone in his path. Once he finally found a worthy foe to end his life, he laid there in death… happy. Until he woke up, having possessed the body of the man who had just killed him, the blade again in his hands. Again, he went on rampage after rampage, constantly dying and reviving, his life an endless loop of destruction. That is the story of Aatrox, the Darkin Blade. Some say that he was eventually able to be imprisoned. Others say that his spirit was finally extracted from the blade and transferred to a gem that was able to contain him."
"Is that where you got your cover name from?" He nodded. "You have some interesting stories to tell. I must hear more from you some other time. Would you kiss me now?"
He willingly complied.
"Is his back any better?" Connor stood next to Oromis near the edge of the cliff, Irelia having been busy. They stood watching as Thorn flew through the air, gliding from side to side, dodging unseen obstacles. Murtagh sat in the saddle, a concentrated look on his face, most likely being mentally attacked by Glaedr.
"Nothing has changed I'm afraid. He is getting stronger though, he is able to endure through our training more now." Oromis sighed. "I have studied all I can, but there does not seem to be anything that could fix him."
"Oromis? You should know that there was a way to fix his wounds. If you are able to heal him with a, well… demonic spell shortly after the injury, the curse can be removed. I healed Irelia instead of Murtagh."
Oromis simply nodded, not needing an explanation as to why he chose to save Irelia over Murtagh. "Is it possible to recreate the wound in order to heal him over again?"
"It would be possible I believe, but the position of his wound is very unfortunate. It would most likely kill him instantly. I will not attempt it… Unless I can figure out how I was brought back." He thought back to what it felt like to die.
He laid in a pool of blood on the floor of a dungeon. He couldn't remember what happened, but through his faint vision he saw a dagger lodged in the middle of his chest, blood gushing out. I'm sorry that I failed you, Aurora. He clutched the pearl around his neck, a single tear falling from his eye. He would die here in this dungeon, forgotten by all. He didn't even have a chance to say any last words, just dying here in this cold, dark prison. He strained to turn his head to look for his assailer, but saw nobody. He knew it was his time to go…
He opened his eyes. Am I dead? He thought to himself. He was laying down on an unknown surface, perfectly flat and matte black as far as the eye could see. The sky was a light grey with absolutely nothing in it, no sun, no clouds. Looking around briefly, he saw no structures or people.
"Yes, you have perished, warrior." A voice came from seemingly everywhere, a light female voice combined with that of a mans, gravelly and wolvish. He jumped, wildly looking around for the voice. "Panic not, child. You are safe now." He slowly stood up and turned around. There stood an entity that didn't entirely make sense.
It took the shape of a woman, but covered in fur, with the legs of a sheep or goat. The creature held an intricately carved bow, far more intricate than even the finest elven bow. It didn't appear to be made of wood, but some otherworldly material. She wore a black mask over her face, for some reason it was shaped like a wolf's head, with bright white glowing eyes. Behind her floated another entity, seemingly a wolf. Only the head of the wolf was properly visible, the rest of its body disappearing into a black mist. The two beings seemed to be connected, despite the stark difference of wolf and sheep.
"We have never seen a being such as you before." The beings made no mouth movements, the sheep's jaw visibly still behind the mask. "Very peculiar indeed. You appear to only have half of a soul. We believe you might indeed be much like us." Connor backed a step away, truly scared of this being.
"W-what are you? Where am I? You said I'm dead? I-I can't be dead, I made a promise!" He was starting to panic a little, he was actually dead and this spirit being was here to remove him from the mortal plane, or something. He wasn't certain that any of this was even real.
"We." It paused, "Are Kindred. We are death. We are the combination of wolf and lamb, hunter and prey. United in spiritual death." Lamb finally moved, spreading her arms out, "This is what we call the rift. The land between life and death. Usually we do not dwell here, but you are a special case. It has been tens of thousands of years since any being has entered into this plane."
"Who was here before me?" Connor had given up on trying to understand how he was even here.
"Before…" The being spoke in a very strange manner, every word pronounced fully and slowly, but somehow just as fast as normal. "Before you, there were the void beings. Tens of thousands of years ago they existed here, until they were able to escape from this plane into reality. There, they wreaked havoc, until they were finally destroyed by a mighty sand warrior, named Aatrox. He fell in the battle, but led it to its eventual victory. He was the last to have traveled here."
"So, I'm dead, correct?"
"That is correct. You have died in the mortal world, but you are unable to pass into the realm of the living because you are missing a part of your soul."
"Is the missing part my dragon? If so, why aren't there a bunch of riders here?"
"Yes. And no."
"What? Can you stop speaking like this? I'd like to be able to comprehend what is going on."
"While your dragon's death did crush a part of your soul, there is something else that is within you that is different. We believe that the part of you that is embedded with spirits is keeping you here."
"So, what am I supposed to do then?" He started to pace, confused how all his wounds were healed. He didn't understand anything that was happening, yet it all somehow made sense. He had heard about death being an entity, not just a thing. "Wait, what happened to Aatrox?" He stopped to look at Kindred.
"He left."
"He left?" That explained nothing.
"He was reborn. We assumed you already knew of his existence? He was in so much pain the last time we saw him… He had sought nothing but his own death. Time and time again he came back here. Every time, he was only here for hours, before simply disappearing before our very eyes. Until one day… He never came back."
"Did he finally find the death that he sought?"
"We are unsure, but we believe not. We are only one, we cannot welcome every being into the afterlife personally, but we had never seen him."
"Interesting." He had no plan for what to do next, he didn't have a weapon, he didn't have aurora's eldunari, he had nobody besides Kindred, who seemed content with just talking to him. "So, how did you come to be?"
"We are wolf and lamb, one could say that we are hunter and prey, peace and chaos, anger and joy. There was not a moment in time where we did not exist, but many millions of years ago we were not one. We eventually settled our differences, merging to be one, but two. We are the combination of two spirits of death, but neither of us were complete before we became one. Now, we are never one without the other. Kindred."
"Well, this is so strange, Kindred. I'd like to leave here though, I do apologize." Connor started to pace again, thinking hard about what he could do. Maybe if I die again in this realm?
"Aatrox tried the same thing. We are unable to assist you in death, dear half-soul human. We shall try to return you back to the mortal plane, but with your specific circumstance, you will most likely return shortly."
"That's fine, just send me back. I made a promise to my dragon that I would not let myself die."
"That is nice, but promises are made to be broken. Everything breaks in the end. We will see you again soon."
With their final words, Kindred started a chant in an unknown language. He had seen some of the gray folk's language, but this was even elder to that. His eyes started to water, the world becoming blurry. He closed his eyes as his world began to spin, faster and faster. He felt like he was being crushed, everything was happening too fast, bright flashes of light, unknown screeching noises, and the most intense pain across his body he had ever experienced.
And then… It stopped.
He opened his eyes. He still laid in a puddle of his own blood, a dagger still embedded in his chest, but his energy restored. He reached down, trying to be quiet, and pulled the dagger from his chest. Before he could heal the wound, it closed before his eyes, stitching itself back together. He slowly stood up, checking himself for wounds, but found none. He made his way to the door to the room he was in, seemingly a dungeon of sorts, and made his way into the hallway.
He roamed the hallways, but they were completely abandoned. He eventually came upon a door that seemed to be an exit. Upon entering, he emerged into the sunlight, a stark difference from the dimly-lit dungeon. He was in Uru-Baen. Not knowing what else to do, he made his way towards the castle.
Walking through the grand doors of the castle, the guards made a deal of looking past him, as he looked quite a fright covered in his own blood and gore. He walked the hallways, oblivious to the world around him, until he came upon the door to the throne room. He entered without a warning, walking in to the king sitting alone on the throne.
"Ahh, Connor. I had sensed you. I thought you died, my boy."
"I believe I did."
"Good. This is good. You are still useful as a shade, even if your dragon has perished." It had only been months after Aurora had died, Connor didn't remember anything in those months up until those moments before he died.
"Are my weapons around? I need to kill something. Also, I would like to be referred to as Aatrox from now on. This is the last time you will see my face."
He was interrupted from his memory by the sound of Thorn landing in the clearing. Murtagh leapt down, landing with only a bit of unsteadiness. He kept a straight face, but Connor could see the pain in his eyes from his landing.
"It looks like your training has been coming along well, Murtagh." Connor remarked, nodding at Thorn in greeting.
"It has been. What brings you here today?" Murtagh looked nervous around him still.
"I was coming to simply check on your training, also to talk to Oromis. I should also mention that me and Irelia shall be leaving for Surda within the week."
"Alright, I hope to be able to meet up with you in a few months. And Connor? If I don't see you again before you leave, thank you for protecting me the other day, on the training grounds."
Connor nodded. "Unnecessary of Vanir to have treated anyone like that. He needed to be put in his place. Also, Murtagh, I do believe that I know of a way to treat your wound, but I am still working on the logistics of it and how not to kill you during the operation." Murtagh's face lit up with hope. "Unfortunately, it will most likely be many months before I could even think of attempting it."
With that, he turned and left the clearing, the memory of him becoming Aatrox still fresh in his mind. He would have to tell Irelia at some point.
Opening the door of his treehouse, he entered to his home completely empty. He didn't think that he could bear to be alone right now, but he needed to not be out in public. One drink can't hurt. He made his way to the cupboard, retrieving a flask of faelnirv, not even bothering to grab a glass.
As night fell that night, Irelia opened the door of the treehouse, just in time to see Connor laying on the couch. A knife lay on his chest, his arms covered in blood. "Connor!" She rushed to his side. His eyes opened, a darker red than usual. "Oh thank the gods you're alive." She sighed in relief. Shaking, she went to heal his self-inflicted wounds.
"Irelia?"
"Yes, Connor?" She tried to hide the shakiness in her voice. "Wait, are you drunk!?"
"I couldn't do it tonight." He closed his eyes. "I don't know what happened, I got home from the crags, and I just drank a little. I had to do something to calm down, some bad memories came back today." His voice was heavy, and he was slightly slurring.
"Tell me about it." Remembering his fealty, "Wait! You don't have to if you don't want to."
He giggled softly, "You're so prettyy. I choose not to tell you. Have a uh, drink with me, Irelia. It's not very fun to drink alone. I've had too many experiences drinking alone. It does numb the pain pretty well"
Blushing at his drunken compliment, "I guess I could use a drink, I basically spent the whole day arguing with my own mother about politics." She reached past the multiple flasks of faelnirv, grabbing the only one with any drink left in it, and drank half the flask in an instant. "I won't ask anything from you tonight, simply because you're drunk."
He smiled up at her, thankful for her thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Ireliaa." He reached up to grab her hand, slowly standing up. Suddenly he swooped her up in his arms, and walked her up the stairs to their bedroom, laughing. "C-can you just hold me tonight Irelia? You make me feel lesss alone."
She obliged, letting him fall asleep on her chest. She couldn't help but worry about him. He was so tough, but he had no real way to let his feelings out. She hated that he turned to self-harm in order to express himself. She would love him through this though, and she would make sure that he made it out. She decided that she should stay by his side for the remainder of their time in the forest, for his own safety and for her peace of mind.
I felt like telling some stories in this chapter, but don't worry, these stories are actually somewhat relevant to the plot. I think my three favorite league champions for lore are Aatrox, Irelia, and Kindred(You already know they're going to be in here more! Also, don't yell at me for the way I depict Kindred, as I said none of this story is truly lore accurate). Connor and Irelia should be leaving for the Varden again soon too!