The Fall: 38. Pride, Honor and Treason

Pride, Honor and Treason

-Has something happened to us? -replied Darkwill.- I think that this is as it has always been. We constantly fighting each other, constantly taking care of the other.

-You've got to stop this nonsense, Darkwill. -said LeBlanc in a friendly tone.- This will get us nowhere, the lack of magic will kill Runeterra. They can't leave. You can't leave.

-We can. -answered Darkwill, realizing that she had never known why he was doing all of this.

If she kept calling him Elliot it was for a reason, and she was right. The man that now ruled over him was not Darkwill, the Ziraeth, but Elliot, the one man in love that would do anything to get his loved one back from the afterlife. And there he was, doing the impossible.

-And we will.

...

When the last trees of the Kumungu Jungle fell to the will of the Noxian might, the army discovered even bigger trees; the Plague jungles, home to the feared and unknown, laid in front of them. Untouched, unreached by so many men before, the jungles inspired more than fear on the soldiers. But that why generals are there.

-Can you see them, men of Valoran? -shouted Darius.- Those monsters that hide in the jungles are here to ruin our hearths. We have feared them, we had cried their victims and we have avoided them as long as we could; but this is not a day like that.

The immense army that was in front of him was dumbfounded, following his every word and feeling them in their hearts. Most Noxians had lost a relative or a friend in the incident of the arena, and the death of King Jarvan Lightshield the Fourth was still an open wound in the Demacian soldiers' hearts.

-Today we say no to their reign of fear! -continued Darius.- Today we deny them their existence the very same way that they've tried to do with us before. You, heroes of Valoran, are the men that will bring a new dawn to the continent. Blinded by pride and honor, we were nothing but mere traitors when we killed ourselves. Noxus, Demacia, Ionia... that was the mistake. We didn't recognize the real enemy. But now we've learnt, heroes.

The drums sounded stronger with every phrase while most men acclaimed the Noxian general. His words were bringing light to the hearts of men that had been struggling through the jungle for days without really knowing what they were facing. Only now they recognized their enemies; dragons, spirits and beasts that were now leaving their hideouts in the Plague Jungles.

-We shall fight today until the life of those beasts has come to an end. For our children, for our wives and friends. For those who are not here with us today and, why not, for ourselves. For Valoran!

...

The armies were screaming, with the soldier's weapons raised and drums roaring through what was left of the Kumungu Jungle. Their general, a Noxian, talked to what looked like the Demacian king and left towards the Jungle, running towards Lucian.

But there was nothing that Yasuo could have done; the Demacian gunslinkger was too far to hear him shout. Also, other things caught his attention way more than the Noxian general marching enraged.

A soldier able to manipulate the wind. When she raised her sword he felt it.

That must had been the one to kill his master. The one to blame for his whole life; his brother's death, the massacres that he had been forced into and the slashed through the throats of those who had one been his friends.

He had to get her.

...

-Where are those two men? The Noxian and the pale one? Where did they go?-angrily asked Garen.

-They marched with Darius, brother. - said Lux.-They are there, with the hooded man and the blonde woman.

She knew that it was still difficult for him to accept her. She had been missing for years, and now a completely different woman appeared and was called his sister. Yet it was the truth, and hiding that fact, like Malcolm had proposed, would have left her broken-hearted. She had to try to reach him.

-They shouldn't leave without permission.-complained the Demacian king. -They will pay for this lack of obedience once this war is over.

-They are just following their leader, just like these men are here waiting for your words. -said Lux.- Don't think of the two that stood loyal to their lords, think of the whole army that, even though years ago they were fighting against you, now accept Garen, the Demacian king as their leader. Think of the immense quantity of people who were their friends you might have killed. Yet they are here, eager to follow you into battle.

Her brother was nervous, but her words had calmed him down a little bit. She had always been there for relieving Garen's worries; how he had gone through the latest years of life without her, she knew not. But now she was there to calm his rage down. But peace was never long.

-I, Yasuo, the unforgiven, call for a duel with that Noxian swordsman. -said someone who looked like an ionian warrior.- For the honor of my name.

Lux could see how Garen was falling into rage again, and she wouldn't be able to stop him in time.

Marcos

Loco. Sin un tornillo. Demente. Mentalmente inestable. Ido. Me han llamado de muchas maneras desde que llegué aquí, nunca por mi nombre. Hace tanto que no lo oigo que tampoco soy capaz de recordarlo; mi existencia se ve ahora reducida a paseos, ayudar a María a cocinar, a cargar la compra con Antón, a ser llamado Marcos, a ordenar la casa y a dormir. Al principio, cuando no podía dormir (cosa que pasaba muy a menudo) leía. Leía con ansias, deseando encontrar una historia con la que sentirme identificado. Pero con el paso del tiempo me he rendido. Viendo que nadie contaba mi historia, he decidido escribirla aquí.

Para empezar, déjenme decirles que no soy de este lugar. Tampoco recuerdo exactamente de dónde vine, pero sé que éste no es mi lugar. Yo tuve una madre que, aunque murió, no es la madre que María dice que compartimos hasta el dos mil tres. También tuve una hermana, pero no era María; aunque no recuerde ni su cara, estoy seguro de que ella no es la hermana que vagamente recuerdo. Recuerdo también a un padre bondadoso; María describe un monstruo que no se parece en nada a aquello que sé que he vivido. Pero sí que se parece a cosas que he visto en sueños.

Siempre tuve problemas para dormir; hasta los ocho años me la pasé invadiendo la habitación de mis padres casi todas las mañanas. Llorando, yo les contaba mis sueños; aquellos donde yo era un niño cuya única protección ante la bestia que azotaba a su familia era su hermana mayor. Por aquél entonces María era la luz que hacía que mis pesadillas fuesen más llevaderas. Por cada golpe que recibía de la bestia podía contar un abrazo de María. Por cada grito, una sonrisa. Aún así, yo temía a las pesadillas, y cuando entraba en el cuarto de mis padres lo hacía llorando. Entre berridos y mocos les contaba lo que soñaba y, con una sonrisa, ellos me abrazaban. Su calor corporal y sus palabras me consolaban; cuando, al cabo de unas horas, mi hermana traía el desayuno a la cama me sentía estupendamente. Estábamos todos juntos, estábamos todos bien.

Pero ahora ya no es así. Para empezar, el sueño ha tomado el control de mi vida. Lo peor es que ahora no hay bestia, y María no me salva de nada. Siento que soy una carga; noto como todos me miran raro, como no les gusta que mi pensamiento se ausente ni que mi mirada vague hasta el infinito. Cuando paseo con María y su marido Antón noto que casi nunca vienen los niños. Además, si nos cruzamos con alguien que sé que ellos conocen no se saludan como de costumbre; se reprimen, y lo hacen por mí. Se avergüenzan, y lo hacen de mí.

Esos momentos, esas situaciones tan crudas y difíciles de tragar, son las que por momentos me hacen creer que no he dejado de soñar. Que la bestia ha tomado el control de todos los personajes de mi sueño. Hasta que empecé a escribir esto, pasaba los días buscando la manera de despertarme. Pero como ya he dicho, nadie contaba una historia como la mía. Nadie había pasado por mi situación, y si alguien lo había hecho se me ocultaba. Es por eso que tampoco le he contado a nadie que estoy escribiendo. Si María o Antón se enterasen se lo dirían a los psiquiatras, y ellos volverían a hacerme preguntas a las que no sé responder.

Y es que el cambio empecé a tenerlo cuando los psiquiatras se inmiscuyeron en mis sueños. Mi edad rondaba la veintena cuando mis pesadillas recuperaron su fuerza; en ellas ya no había bestia alguna que me azotase. En vez de eso, los psicólogos se la pasaban haciéndome preguntas, llamándome Marcos Gómez, preguntándome por lo sucedido con mi padre Enrique, instándome a explicarles qué sentí cuando murió mi madre Eugenia, intentando averiguar por qué fuera del trabajo solo me relacionaba con mi hermana María. Obviamente, yo no lo entendía. Los psicólogos de mis sueños me preguntaban cosas que yo no conocía realmente; recordaba el nombre de María como parte de mis pesadillas del pasado, y tanto Enrique como Eugenia habían formado parte de esos horribles sueños. Pero, como ya he dicho, los recuerdo como eso; eran los restos de mis pesadillas, huellas de una realidad que nunca aceptaría como la mía.

El paso de los años no me ayudaba a dejar atrás aquellos demonios de mi pasado; los psicólogos de mis pesadillas se convertían en psiquiatras, las conversaciones en tratamientos experimentales. Llegó un momento en el que dormía más de lo que vivía, y debido al funcionamiento de la mente durante los procesos oníricos acababa soñando más de lo que dormía.

Llegado cierto punto empecé a ser incapaz de discernir una realidad de otra; llamaba María a mi hermana, en el trabajo me asustaban las preguntas que se me hacían, empecé a temer a todo mucho más... mi vida entera fue cuesta abajo. Acabé recluido en mi cuarto, y lo único que recuerdo de mi anterior vida es que me fui a dormir. Aquella noche empezó como cualquier otra; soñando. El de aquella noche empezó con un psiquiatra diciéndome que estaba curado. "Ya no hay nada que temer, Marcos." decía el Dr. Gil. "Todo estará bien ahora, en unas horas vendrá tu hermana María a buscarte." dijo con una sonrisa mientras se iba. Y aún sigo aquí.

Salí del instituto mental y me instalé junto a mi hermana María y su marido Antón en su casa. Les ayudo con las tareas del hogar y cada tanto paseo con ellos. No me dejan quedarme solo con los niños, pero si ellos están cerca me dejan hablar con ellos e incluso a veces jugar. Cuando llega la hora de dormir les oigo discutir; la mayoría de veces lo hacen sobre mí. Y el principal problema es que todo es muy real. Lo único que se me hace raro en este mundo son mis recuerdos; aquello que considero sueños del pasado tengo que llamarlo "mi vida", y lo que siempre habían sido mis vivencias y experiencias ahora no son más que sueños y sombras de un pasado oscuro.

¿Descubriré algún día cual es la realidad? Si alguien lee esto y se siente identificado, si alguien puede compartir conmigo una historia similar, por favor hágalo. Si no voy a poder escapar de este mundo, ayúdenme a formar parte de él. ¿Cómo lo han hecho? ¿Dónde están? ¿Por qué no se habla de nosotros? Solo busco respuestas.

Firmado,
G.

The Fall: 37. Clash of Fates

Clash of Fates

It took them some time to understand what had happened. The teleportation had reminded LeBlanc of Thresh's lantern and the likes, but those who were more unexperienced with it, Yasuo and Lucian, were clearly disoriented.

-Where are we? -asked Yasuo, clearly unable to believe what he had just gone through.

-At one final frontier, swordsman. -answered Tahm Kench.- This beautiful existence that you're now witnessing is the borderline between the fearful Kumungu Jungle and the misterious and unexplored Plague Jungles.

-I see nothing but a bunch of trees. -said Lucian, mocking the demon.- A lot of trees and...

-Is that what you were looking for, Ziraeth? -interrumped Tahm Kench.

The men that had been with her during the journey stared at her. They did not understand Tahm Kench's words. They had not dared fight her since joining; Ezreal expected a prize from the rich Piltovian girl, Yasuo had nowhere to go and Lucian had followed the demon's orders.

-What does he mean, Anyssa? -asked Ezreal, with a sprout of doubt in his face.

LeBlanc could not stand that look any longer. Luckily for her, Darkwill made his appearance.

-Come. -said what looked like nothing but a masked man for the rest.

-I don't follow orders from you, Elliot. -pretenciously responded LeBlanc.

-You'll be coming anyways. -said Darkwill before vanishing into the air and appearing next to a man that was a hundred meters into the jungles.

And he was right. She went, leaving those who she had secretly wanted to call her friends without an answer.

...

The blonde girl was walking into the jungle, making her way with her bare hands when she needed to move aside plants, roots and the likes. At first he couldn't see where she was going. He was still a little bit dizzy because of the flashy teleport.

-I know who he is. -said Lucian.

-They are two. -pointed out Yasuo, on a serious note.

-We all know who he is, the girl just called him Elliot. -mockingly said Tahm Kench.

-That monster. -said Lucian, while starting to wield his guns.- He has changed his appearance, but it's still him.

They could not stop him, and they didn't really had the will to.

...

-He's coming for you, Aaresh.- said Darkwill.

-And your lady friend is also around.- said Thresh with his ghostly voice.

-The man is annoying.- commented Darkwill.- I want you to take him down.

-I don't follow your orders, you masked clown. -said Thresh before breaking into what sounded like rotten laughter.

Only then Darkwill took the mask off, throwing it into the ground. As frail as it was, thousands of pieces scattered into the ground. Thousands of little shining pieces of a life that he was leaving behind.

-I was already going to do it, unmasked clown.-mocked Thresh.- He's a fun game, there's a woman he's fighting for.

Darkwill's eyes shone like blood-bathed rubies; he understood the pain that the man was going through, all while hating himself for working with the likes of madmen like Thresh. Lucian was not alone in his struggle, but he was not going to help a fellow victim.

...

An ardent blaze was shot from Lucian's gun, illuminating the darkest corners of the jungle. The few animals that were still around escaped while Yasuo was unable to see anything, but he still heard them under the noise of the firing guns.

-This is senseless. -said an astonished Ezreal.- This culling will take him nowhere.

Ezreal was getting a shot ready; aiming at Lucian's weapons, his point was to take them down and calm the man down. Firing at will into the unknown would just get him killed. But Yasuo was trying to talk him out of it.

-He's got the right to do it.-emptylessly said Yasuo.- We shouldn't stop him.

-He's going to get himself killed.-replied the Piltovian explorer.

-If it happens, it will be fighting for what he wants. -pointed out Yasuo.- He'd better die that way than whatever is waiting for us. Can't you feel it in the wind?

-I'm not going to let a man die when I can save him, swordsman.

But Yasuo was not going to let a wish be vanished by a fool's pride. Yasuo knew what fighting for an impossible meant; his life had been a struggle of that kind. Someone born and raised in the so called city of progress could not understand what he had been through, what Lucian was going through. That's why he called the wind.

...

His trueshot barrage had disappeared in front of him. He knew it had happened, who had done it and why; the question to be made was how the void had Yasuo done that?

He was about to complain to the swordsman, but the sound of drums drowned the beginning of his words. The sound of marching feet, of military songs. Rough voices piercing through the air, armors ready for the battle and a King leading them through the Kumungu Jungle. The only sound that got over that cacophony was the roar of the millenary trees falling to the hit of axes.

...

Thresh never changed. She could sense him from afar, there was no need to see him. The soil itself crumbled in fear when the Chain Warden stepped on it. That horrible being was one of the few existences that could say that she, LeBlanc, had felt the need of avoiding them.

-A pleasure to meet you, m'lady.- said Thresh when she arrived, while Lucian's piercing shots hit the ground and the trees.- I'm sorry, but I got to leave. Always good to see you, Ziraeth, haha.

Thresh was calmly walking towards Lucian, being hit by every single shot that came out of him while his laughter grew in volume, drowning the war drums' and the falling trees' roars.

-That being is as sick as it has always been. -casually commented LeBlanc.- How can you work with him, Darkwill?

-Sometimes a man's needs go beyond his preferences. -said Darkwill, with a light smile on his face.- this is one of those times.

Unexplainably, they were happy to face each other, to meet, to be able to talk between them. It had almost felt like those days thousands of years ago, when life through most of Valoran was too rudimentary for them to care about it. It made them remember about the days inwhich the Ziraeths walked the continent like any other species did now. A time in which they were not gods among men, but a community driven by its will to create.

-What has happened to us, Elliot?

The Fall: 36. Filling a void

Filling a void

-Can you walk now?- asked Anyssa.

-Yes, it's way better now.- said Ezreal, even though he wasn't sure if it was correct to say that his coal-black arm was "better".

Even though they tried to hide their thoughts, Ezreal knew what was going through everyone's mind. Most people always tried to take a glimpse at every stump they got to see. The lack of something, sometimes even the lack of knowledge, was something that baited most being into things. And having nothing but a dark cloud in the place that had once been his arm definitely called his companions atention.

Except for Tahm Kench. He never looked as someone who cared.

...

Lux was starting to feel fear. A fear that she had not felt for years.

The faces of the marching men were horrible. Noxus and Demacia had allied for nothing but the sake of killing and massacring. Those sick being preferred to call themselves a hunting party, but they were nothing but an army. A huge army marching towards an enemy that they didn't really know, parding just for the sake of blood gold and pride.

She could also see it in their faces they didn't look at her as people would normally do. Darius saw in her nothing but a weapon, Malcolm's look scared her even more than when he had taken her hostage into Riven's body and not even her brother's eyes could make Lux feel more calm. Garen didn't look like the man he had once been.

...

-How is it working Mr. Ezreal? -asked Tahm Kench.

He had not told the rest was was going on, but it was definitely time for some words. It was clear that they wanted an explanation, and Tahm Kench's comment had sparked some curiosity in them.

-Looks great. -answered the Prodigal Explorer.- After some training it's working even better than before.

Not even LeBlanc could believe what they saw afterwards.

They were not getting there late.

...

Everything would bend to their will. Darius wanted Thresh's head, and the Hand of Noxus had made Garen believe that LeBlanc and Darkwill, those who had disappeared after Draven's death, were the ones to blame for what had happened to Jarvan. Malcolm coudln't believe that Darius was letting him live; maybe it was because now he had something to fight for. Darius had always known that Malcolm had nothing to do with his brother's death, even though he knew wrong; that was the only reason that Malcolm could find for Darius to ignore every chance he had for chopping his head of.

How would they react there? How would it all be when they got there? He could feel Thresh's mark on the soil they were stepping on, he could feel the deathhug of the Shadow Isles around the Kumungu Jungle. They were definitely closer to Darkwill than them.

If it all happened as Aalcox and Aatrox expected, Darkwill would leave in front of them, escaping with Thresh, LeBlanc and all those that these two armies blamed. With no one to behead for revenge, they would surely turn onto each other.

-Are you enjoying the ride, Astor? -asked Malcolm to the albino merchant.

...

He could feel it. She was closer. But Thresh was not the only thing he needed to get her free; the chain warden would not handle her to him that easily. He needed Malcolm's girl. And he wanted LeBlanc to see it.

He had been planning it all for years. He had tricked everyone into it, he could not fail now. Another mistake like Galio's death was not a possibility.

The Fall: 35. The Stalker's Pray

The Stalker's Pray

Sona could not understand it. Shyvana's words had left her broken-hearted; she could not believe what the half-dragon was saying. Taric was not mean, he was not being selfish.

As much as she repeated those words to herself, they wouldn't kill the doubt that had sprouted into her heart. Taric, the calm knight that had always been there for her, the sympathetic person that had always been eager to lend a hand when needed, the warrior that had been a fierce leader when time called for it; the one and only man she had trusted enough to fall in love with.

Shyvana had to be wrong.

Those were difficult days at Bandle City. Everyone was hurrying up, trying to get their things ready for the departure. Nervous and noisy, the Yordles were always going from one place to another. "No more scouting lady, but I can still guard." used to say Teem when she found him on Bandle's City's walls. "Heimerdinger asked for some help." usually grunted Rumble "He can't handle all this mess alone, no matter how many machines are helping him.".

She could not answer. In Bandle City, no one was interested in her etwahl; whenever she played it for a while, most Yordles usually asked her to calm the tunes down instead of resting and relaxing with her. That was why she walked and stalked, looking at what everyone was doing, knowing that she could not help. Sometimes she just looked for Taric without him knowing it, just for the sake of seeing him.

He looked calm, he always did. Nothing had changed in his face, not even the day when Shyvana decided to leave Bandle city.

...

A few days of rest and LeBlanc was fine enough to walk by herself. Up until then, Yasuo and Lucian had been taking turns to carry her. While they walked and talked she was absent-minded, on her own world of plans and rules, wanting to focus on her objective, but unable to do so.

The man that she had chosen to follow her had risked his own life to save her. That was something that had not happened once in her whole lifetime before; not even Darkwill, her companion since LeBlanc could remember her own existence, had risked even a bit to save her.

But Ezreal had not doubted. He had jumped in in the blink of an eye, if Tahm Kench's words were to be believed. Without even knowing what he was facing, he received the obsidian's hit right in the arm that usually held his Shuriman artifact.

That was why she could not stop looking at him. Tahm Kench carried him over his shoulders. "Some fresh air will do good." argued the Demacian gunslinger. As usual, both Tahm Kench and Yasuo had supported his idea, so she had let the River King carry him.

In the end, they needed to get there in time.

Darkwill would not wait.

...

He had been working on this for so long.

Aatrox would love the coming years, Malcolm was sure about that. He and Aalcox had been preparing it all for the bloody bastard; still, there were things that escaped to their reach.

The armies would march, Lux would die and Darkwill would tear the world apart in front of them.

At least that was how he thought that everything should work out.

...

He missed her. He wanted to be back with her, to rest in the safety of her arms. To enjoy the comfort that her smile had always blessed with to those who witnessed it.

He had been waiting for so long.

But the wait was about to end. It would all be over soon.

The Fall: 34. The Trailblazer's Path

The Trailblazer's Path

The yordles had prepared a small building for them to live and rest after the long escape they had gone through.

-I told you that we're not the first leaving, Shyvana. -calmly said Taric.

-That's not the point Taric! -answered Shyvana, who was clearly nervous.- You tricked us into this!

-There's a reason for it, Shyvana... -said Taric on his typical tone, trying to fade out the rage that had lighted up in the half-dragon's heart.

-Your loneliness! -shouted Shyvana.- Is it the fact that you were not called? -angrily pointed out the Demacian warrior.- You know you're not one of us, Taric!

-Why won't you trust me? -said Taric, with his voice rising in volume and deepening it's tone while his gems glowed like bloodstone.- The Trailblazer has always been around here! We'll find the way back into those days!

-They won't be back, Taric.- said Shyvana, with a lower voice.- You met Zilean long ago, you know how ill he is. What he said cannot be blindly trusted.

-It's not about him. -clarified Taric, his voice calming a little while his shield glowed like a ruby.- It's not about a twisted legend that's thousands of years old, Shyvana...

-Then what's it about? -asked Shyvana, tired of Taric's words.

-Just trust me. You'll see him before Bandle City leaves. The caretaker always comes when he's really needed.

...

They needed a pause. Both Lucian and Yasuo had been following Tahm Kench's orders for long. He was supposed to know where they were going, but Yasuo didn't trust him enough and Lucian didn't even know about Anyssa and Ezreal.

Also, he didn't know how they were faring with their wounds.

...

Nothing but pain.

His arm was aching as it had never been. Jayce was supposed to have fixed the artifact, such a reaction from a hit was not expected. What had that monster used? What weapon was he wielding? It had shone as nothing Ezreal had seen before. And Ezreal, the prodigal explorer, had seen quite a lot of things.

It reminded him of the stones he had seen at the Shuriman tombs; painted in the walls, it looked like those stones had been used to keep something out. The question is; what?

...

An obsidian blade. LeBlanc had not expected an obsidian blade. She hadn't even expected the attack, but if it had been a normal beast she could have simply dashed out of its range and stop him. But, why was she alive?

Usually, an obsidian blade would have killed her in the instant that it got to pierce her skin. She could feel the pain of it, but she couldn't tell where her wounds were. She was simply aching, her whole body in pain and paralyzed.

Still, if hat was the case, someone had stopped the monster from getting to her.

Someone was foolish enough to try to save her, and she loved every detail of it.

...

Hecarim and his army reached him hours after he had finished with the last remnants of Xin Zhao, and after him came Kalista, Mordekaiser, Karthus and more.

It had been difficult for Thresh to convince them all of joining him; most of them had had some highs and lows between themselves during the last hundreds of years, but when Thresh made a call of this type they were all eager to follow.

-To the Kumungu jungle, Hecarim. -said Thresh.

Without an answer, the Shadow of War marched. He had been needed to guide the rest; now he left, since Hecarim had never liked Thresh's tricks. No one liked to fool around with Thresh's lantern.

...

When LeBlanc started to feel better, Tahm Kench explained it all to her.

Rengar was the name of the beast that had attacked them; he had never lived in a place so close to where they were by then, but someone had invited him to make a stop by her. Darkwill had given the beast the idea.

-Do you really think I don't know how he got the Obsidian blade? -said LeBlanc, still aching a bit but now able to hold herself on her feet.- Answer my question, you demon.

-You may only have a slight hint, but you can never know something you didn't witness. -answered Tahm Kench, clearly mocking LeBlanc.

The Fall: 33. A Skirmisher's Escape

A Skirmisher's Escape

When Sona, Taric, Poppy and Shyvana reached Bandle City, a whole committee was waiting for them. Teemo had been scouting for days, and once he saw them coming he had returned to the city in order to prepare everything that was needed.

-You're not the first to come.- said Tristana.- We've been guarding for long, waiting so that as many yordles as possible could be able of coming back to Bandle City.

-Since when? -asked Taric.

-Can't tell for sure... since the last Zaun-Piltover incident eight years ago? -answered the yordle.- I just know that we've been on duty since then. When Dr. Heimerdinger returned the work became a little easier.

Sona was listening carefully, without knowing what they would do next. What had Taric planned?

...

Tahm Kench and Yasuo found Lucian after days of walking and talking. The forest was getting more dense with every step, and the nights were as silent as Yone's tomb, where not even the wind howled.

The demacian gunslinger followed them without a word after they first met. Tahm Kench's look was enough for him to know that he had to go with them.

-How did you end up here? -asked Yasuo after hours of walking.

-This world is crashing down, I'm just trying to fix a little bit of it. -answered Lucian.

-The world's not going down, it's just your kingdom's problem human. -pointed out Tahm Kench.- Mankind should stop being so self-centered.

-I was just trying to get to know where my friends went.- said Lucian now.- They left because of the chaos that Garen's rage brought to Demacia. But we will need them. I need them.

-You are late, man. -calmly said Tahm Kench.- They are far away now, and it doesn't look like they'll be coming back.

...

-That was my last day out. -happily shouted Teemo.- It's a pity to leave Valoran this way, but I guess that it's our only chance. They say that Lulu will bring us to somewhere safe.

-What do you mean with your last day out? -asked Shyvana. Tristana laughed at her ignorance of the situation and decided that it was best to let Rumble explain it.

-You don't know how Bandle City works, right? -said Rumble.- It's quite simple. If we want someone to get in, we're here. If we don't we just aren't. That is how we stay safe. But it takes years to settle down, or at least it usually does. Hundreds of years passed before we could get to roam around Valoran, and for thousands our species did. One of my ancestors was the yordle that opened the gates into Valoran for the first time, Corbyl. -explained Rumble with a proud look in his face.-But, as I said, that was thousands of years ago. Leaving a place is quite faster, specially with the technology we have bee able to develop. And, if the wise ones are right, Lulu should be able to help us settle way faster than it would usually take.

-What are we supposed to do? -inquired Shyvana.

-That's not something I should answer. -said Rumble, looking at Taric.

...

Lux didn't like where this was leading to. She had never liked to fight, even less when there was no true reason to do so. If she could just explain them...

But she couldn't. There were a lot of things going on in her mind. Firt off, she neede to keep Riven down. It was difficult to use her powers when the Noxian exile was running rampant through her mind. Yes, she was dead, but it was still her body and a little bit of what she had been was still around. Second, she had been cursed by Aalcox. There was only one way of stopping the curse, and she knew well how.

She had always wanted to do it since that last battle. The last day that she had seen Ezreal, the day when she had left Demacia for good. But she didn't wnt these whole armies to suffer the consequences.