The Fall: 25. The Conflagration

The Conflagration

LeBlanc's mimicked version was still with the Ionian outcast and Ezreal, but she had separated from them hours ago.

-Why now? -asked the Ziraeth.

-We just follow the call. -answered Hecarim.- When we're given orders we follow them. When there's war, there's death, and with death the Shadow Isles grow.

-What war? -asked LeBlanc, more curious after every word the Shadow of War pronounced.

-That's none of my concern. -pointed out Hecarim while still rampaging through what was left of the poor side of Bilgewater.- If we're called to war, we go. It's our fate, our duty.

Suddenly, a greenish light hit Hecarim, and his eyes glowed familiarly.

-It's all about Thresh, right? -spitted LeBlanc.

-It's something bigger than you, Ziraeth. -answered a voice through the monster's mouth.- Some things are better kept away from those close to us. At least that's what he said.

-Shut up and answer my question! -shouted LeBlanc.

But there was no answer; Rampaging through what was left, Hecarim had abandoned the place, accompanied by an army of undead spirits that would make sure nothing could stop him. She could still hear Thresh's laugh at the cells he had been confined.

Maybe he had had a reason for trying to kill her. Ans maybe he still had it.

...

Hours had passed since Malcolm had realized that he was alive when he shouldn't and Swain had told him that Aalcox was awaken. It didn't take him long to realize that Aalcox was nervously screaming as he had never heard a Darkin do, and it was taking way longer to shut him up.

-What's wrong with you?! -shouted Malcolm.

-Find the girl and wipe away the risks! -screamed Aalcox in Malcolm's mind.

-Which girl? -whispered Malcolm while struggling to keep his composure.

-KILL THE KING'S SISTER! -screamed Aalcox; now even Swain heard it.

-Which king? -asked Swain with a peremptory voice.

His voice was enough to calm Aalcox down.

-The Demacian king. His sister...

-She died years ago. -pointed out Swain.

-Not really... -said Malcolm with a smile on his face.- She's not dead  at all...

...

-You don't look like a worthy recipient.

-Who are you?! -shouted Astor. He didn't know where the voice came from; he was lying on the ground, covered by plants. Those yellow little beings were still hanging around him, now moving nervously in circles.

-That's none of your concern now. -answered the voice.- Just do as I tell you and I will give you a less painful death than I want to right now.

It had been long since Astor had left words like those unanswered, but that was the first time that he didn't know who he was talking to. For the Void's sake! He didn't even know WHAT he was talking to.

-Just bring me where I want to go. -said the voice, now calmer.- Then I'll make you free of the agony of living.

And it would still be long before he ever let anyone fool him.

-I think you don't realize who you're talking to. -confidently said Astor, before agonizingly screaming and bending in pain.

He was going through such an agony that he didn't even realize that the little yellow fellows were gone. But they weren't leaving for long...

...

-They escaped. -answered Garen from the throne that had once been of his old friend and king Jarvan Lightshield the fourth of his name.

-I guess they are being hunted down like the filthy scum they are... -answered Darius.

-They got into the forest. -replied Garen.

-Oh, and I guess that your scouts can't follow a track when it takes a little effort, right?

-You're not understanding a single word of mine. -said Garen while taking a map that was hanging on the wall and throwing it on the floor in front of Darius.- They got into the Forest.-said Garen again.

-I'll bring you enough men to cut that forest down tree by tree. -said the hand of Noxus.- and then we will raze Bandle City to the ashes.

...

The small yordle-like creature transformed in the blink of an eye; a huge bloodthristy beast was now between them and a voidborn abomination that had suddenly appeared. And some seconds later, another monster was jumping from a bush nearby; the ferocious feline-like beast was on the voidborn beast in a second. Shyvana could see how they fought each other with an innate hate that scared the soul out of her.

-You're leaving. -said Galio, turning towards the 3 huge beasts that were fighting besides them.

-And you're coming with us! -screamed Shyvana.- We won't leave you behind!

-FLY, YOU FOOLS! - roared the white feline beast while holding the Voidborn on the floor.- NOW, OR I SWEAR I'LL CUT YOU DOWN TO PIECES AFTER FINISHING HIM!

-Leave.- said again Galio while walking towards the battle.- I'll catch up to you.

-But...

-Do it. -ordered Galio.- Reach Bandle City, tell them what's about to come and live. I'll catch up to you.

Without looking back, Shyvana carried Poppy, Taric and Sona on her back and left the place. A blazing path showed him where they were going, but Gnar, Rengar and Kha'Zix were way more important now than a path to follor.

...

-Care with Gnar.-shouted Rengar.

It took long for Galio to realize that the beast was talking to him. Shortly after, the so-called Gnar jumped on him.

-Do not hurt him! -roared the white fiery beast.- He'll calm down in a while! Just leave!

-I'll help you.

-YOU WON'T! -said Rengar throwing a bola to Galio's feet.

Only then the hunter realized his mistake. A gust hit both Kha'Zix and him, who ended one on each other's side laying in the floor. Suddenly, Galio shot a blast and both monsters laid on the ground crippled.

-How'd you dare... -angrily whispered Rengar before disappearing.

Without hesitation, Galio started to shine as he had done only in the most dangerous of times. Gnar, now small again, was throwing rocks at him. The voidborn creature woke up and slowly walked towards him, trying to hurt him in a desperate try of getting something out of the fight.

And then he heard his voice.

The Fall: 17. Haunted

Haunted

-She left a long time ago, Yasuo. -said Yone. -The assassin you were looking for, the one that we should have been chasing instead of you, is dead now.

-That's impossible brother. -arrogantly answered Yasuo before taking a drink. -I saw her when the Noxians came. She still walked, holding that cursed blade and a bright wand with her.

-That's not who you're looking for, I am telling you that Riven is already dead. -repeated Yone while looking at his brother empty the bottle in the blink of an eye. -I have met her here, and so have you.

Yasuo spitted on the floor and rose, only to find out that there was no ground at all.

-Why am I still dreaming brother? -asked Yasuo to the remains of his brother.

-Maybe you don't really want to wake up Yasuo. Knowing what you have done because of our chase, being certain that you'll never have the chance to prove that you're not guilty... -said Yone, who was now at his back. -You can join me brother. Here you'll have nothing to worry for.

-I'm really sorry, brother. -whispered Yasuo. -I can't join you, I just can't. I've got things to do...

Suddenly, Yone's eyes turned red. Blood was streaming down his face, and the ground, once inexistent, was now a growing pond of blood.

-You are not understanding me brother. -said what was left of his brother. -You will join the mist! -screamed the spirit.

Suddenly, a barrage of yellow missiles cutted the monster in half, waking Yasuo up.

-Looks like we got here just in time. -shouted a blonde man that Yasuo didn't recognize.

-Are you fine Yone? -asked a girl with blonde curled hair.

...

-What happened? -asked Malcolm while waking up.

-Ask Aalcox. -answered Swain.- He can explain it way better than I.

Only then he realized; Aalcox had been sleeping for years only to wake up in the very moment of his death. Malcolm's pitiful existence could have ended, but the Darkin had spared the life that the Noxians were going to take. Well, it had been a pitiful existence after Aalcox's loss.

Now that he was back...

...

After days of walking non-stop, Thresh sat down and opened his lantern.

-Come out, I want you to do something for me. -whispered the Chain Warden towards the souls that were starting to leave the lantern.- There's  some people I want you to look for, you already know them and you will all do it for me.

The dead man was on his feet, looking at Thresh and listening to the sick dialogue he was having with the sorrowful souls that inhabited his lantern.

-Do they always do what you tell them to? -asked Xin Zhao, who felt alive and curious for a second. Curious and afraid.

-It looks like it will be hard to teach you when you should talk and when you shouldn't. -the Chain Warden said while looking at Xin Zhao's heart. -You've changed, that's for sure, ha ha ha...

-Do they always do what you tell them to? -asked Xin Zhao again, with the same monotonous voice.

-What they will do is something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. -said Thresh.- They do what I need them to do, not what I want them to. But without orders they would never move.

-Why wouldn't they? -asked Xin Zhao, feeling more alive with each word. He could feel Thresh's curiosity starting to grow, but the fear he had of the Chain Warden was bigger than the part of him that was coming back to life.

-Because I gave them the time of their lives. -said Thresh, pointing the lantern. -Their existence is only painful when I want it to, and the fear of being punished keeps them calm. Look at your surroundings; your lack of soul won't let you notice, but this place would scare the shit out of any human that dared to walk alone through these woods. Specially now...

Suddenly, the place started to shine and a warm breeze hit Xin Zhao's face. After some seconds, everything was back to normal.

-They'll be here soon, dead man. -said Thresh. - You'd better prepare yourself.

The Fall: 8. The Cleanse Begins

The Cleanse Begins

-You will start to work after the arrest squad fails. -pointed out Garen.- Your job will be to hunt down and bring back to Demacia those people that haven proven themselves to have parted ways with their humanity in favour of power. Dead or alive, I'll have enough with their heads.

-Why should the arrest squad fail? -arrogantly asked Lucian.

-You have worked with the likes of them, Lucian.-answered Garen, clearly annoyed by the Purifier's behaviour. -The Gem Knight, the Sentinel's sorrow, the Half-Dragon... they should not be underestimated. The rebellion we're facing is serious business. This is not like hunting for silly monsters about Runeterra with your chick; remember that your...

Lucian turned and walked out of the room, closing the door silently, leaving Garen mid-talk. The new king's anger could be felt in the room, but he didn't stop.

-...enemies know you as much as you know them. -he stopped and breath deeply while turning for facing Quinn. -You'll lead the team. Those monsters won't doubt to chop your head off, don't give them the chance to. You may leave now.

...

Quinn couldn't understand what was going on. King Jarvan had died, adn the noxians had been blamed for it at the very beginning. Garen was already preparing an army to march against their eternal nemesis, but something tore those plans down to pieces; a Noxian letter had arrived. It talked about traitors in their own ranks and about Swain escaping with the one in charge of single-handedly causing the death of hundreds of Noxians. As a side note it talked about Xin Zhao, the Seneschal, being kidnapped by the Chain Warden. No more details concerning the letter were made public; the only thing that the Demacian common folk knew was that Noxus was not an enemy anymore.

Officially, the army was going to march against the Shadows Isles in the search of Xin Zhao, while other scout squads were being prepared to look for Xin Zhao around Runeterra; as said by Garen, "they could not be sure what a twisted mind like Thresh's could beplanning". Only a few knew the truth; their new king was lying to the masses.

As far as most people were concerned, they had to find Xin Zhao to uncover the truth of what had happened to Jarvan IV; the truth was that the Noxian-Demacian alliance wanted to change the world how the had once known it by cleaning the human race. Yordles, dragons, mages... if something made it different from the standars they had settled, it had to be erased.

Who were the monsters now?

...

The drink was way too cold that night. Even for a heart as frozen as his, the drink was way too cold. He looked at the bartender, who immediately took his jar and emptied it, pouring its content into the sink and diving deep into the kitchen.

That was why Yasuo had always preferred that place among the rest. He needn't talk, he need't listen to anything, he didn't even think. If he wanted something to drink he payed, and when he couldn't pay the bartender never complained; he knew that the man he knew as Yone would pay his debts. Yone had always payed his debts, even though he had never given in to drink.

He had never liked to use the name of his dead brother, but when he had to come up with a name that was not his, Yone always came to mind. Ten years had passed, yet ten more wouldn't have been enough for Yasuo to get free of his burden. Unable to prove his innocence, old friends were still hunting him down day and night. Bilgewater had been his personal heaven; you can't draw attention when you're surrounded by freaks even stranger than you. That had given him the chance to be reborn as Yone, the Ionian fisherman. The only one that got to fish now matter how strong the winds were those days, a hero among the common folk. Yone was the one that saved the hungry and the poor. The silent man that had saved countless lives.

Without a word, Yasuo left the bar and walked towards the docks, where home was waiting for him. He was covering himself with the blankets and coats that children from the neighborhood had gifted him when he heard a familiar voice whispering in his ear.

-It's been long since we last met, brother... -said Yasuo, before swiftly unsheathing his blade and cutting twice through the shadow's throat. -And I do not plan on sharing a drink with you soon.

The Black Mist was back. Year after year, always arriving some weeks earlier than it did the last year. Always colder, always stronger. But it is not yet time to die. At least not for the unforgiven.

The Fall: 7. Crows for the Dead

Crows for the Dead

It was a strange feeling.

He didn't really have any memory of his life before his brother's arrival. When Draven was born Darius thought of him as a pet; something loyal that would never leave him, helping each other constantly, always being there when needed. But time had taught him that a brother was more than that.

His brother had been a hug when he needed it, a smile that had made him feel better countless times. He had also been what had tied him to reality when being into the fray turned him into the monster he now was. He couldn't remember a day without his brother. The ones before his death had always been shared, even if he just crossed him on his way to the arena. Draven's smile was always strange; he didn't express happiness, but love for himself. When they were young they have talked a lot about that. "What's love for you, brother?" had asked Draven a long time ago, when they were no more than teenagers working hard to earn a spot in the army. "Love is what you feel when you are with someone that can make you smile no matter how hard the situation is. At least that's how I think of it, even though I'm not sure if I have ever felt it." Darius answered back then. "Then I have certainly fallen in love, brother." answered Draven with a big smile on his face.

It had taken him long to understand him, but one day at the arena, watching his brother Draven tear down a man from the distance by using those spinning axes of his, he caught a glimpse of what he had meant back then. While tearing corpses down, Draven was alone in the arena, at least to the eyes of the thousands of spectators that filled it up every week. But Darius knew the truth; his little brother was never alone, he was always with that person he had always loved. The only one always able to make him wear a smile no matter how hard the situation was; Draven himself.

Later that day, Darius met up Draven and asked him about it; he was curious about that. When he asked his brother about it, he didn't answer at all. He just walked out of the restaurant they had met at, alone, with a smile on his face. And that's how he made sure of it. His brother loved no more than himself; as narcissistic as a man could be, his brother would always live his life with what he considered the best company a man could have.

That kind of insanity was what brought him back to a normal life once a battle was over. No slaughters, no killing, no skinning. No heads waiting to be smashed, no Ionians to be tortured to death, no Demacians being cut a piece a week that would be sent to their homeland as a reminder of what was about to come. It was just him, his brother and their smiles. "Malcolm's execution would be way easier to handle if he was here..." whispered Darius for himself. Always overshadowed by him, Malcolm was a good man; he just hadn't been good enough to save his brother. He wished he could have protected Draven from the Chain Warden, to avoid reaching this situation. But someone had to pay for what had been done, and the one to be punished would be that noxian general.

The only danger Darius was facing now was his own madness, and nothing could save him from it.

...

The crowd didn't even dare to look at his eyes; they were silent. Some of them hated him for not being able to protect the people that had died in the arena, but they didn't dare speak a word. Malcolm had been a hero of war, one of the few to come back from the last war with a Demacian head, and it was not any common head; the Lady of Luminosity had died at the hands of that man. That was why they were so nervous yet so quiet. Fear or respect, the fact that Malcolm was not a common prisoner changed how things were.

By contrast, several crows haunted the place, their squawks following the rythm of Malcolm's footsteps. He could feel their black eyes digging deep in his flesh, but somehow he knew they saw no feast in his corpse. Why were they there then? Malcolm was certain that he wouldn't live long enough to know the answer to that question. The new executioner was eager to get his hands on Malcolm's head.

The death of Urgot in the last war had left them with little to no people wanting to become the Noxian headsman of reference; that was only until Draven got into the scene. He loved his job, he did it effectively and he committed to it with a love that no Noxian had ever felt. But the incident at the arena had forced Noxus to look for another executioner. With no permanent headsman taking the job, Darius had taken it temporarily.

When he was forced down and told to lay his head on the steel bar, Malcolm looked up a last time to see Darius' face. To his surprise, Darius was crying. "Someone had to pay for this, and you are the only one to blame for such a loss Malcolm." whispered the Hand of Noxus. He raised his axe unhesitatingly and ordered him to face the steel bar. As cold and clean as it was, Malcolm could only feel a fiery fire burning inside him. It was all over.