Galvanized by his string of defeats on the Fields of Justice, and fueled by revenge for his destroyed village, Master Yi abandons the League in search of a legendary sword, to perhaps find the power to finally enact his vengeance upon the evil that robbed him of everything he loved. But the League does not take kindly to deserters, and will throw everything they have at him to stop him... even the very Champions that Yi once fought with...
Malzahar, the Void Prophet, forced open an entire field of negative energy over where Yi was running. The attack wrenched open a sliver of the Void upon an innocent half-acre of the Plague Jungles. Plants withered, animals twitched once, and died, and proud trees twisted, and doubled over, before turning as black as death itself. Yi ran as quickly as he could out of the zone, feeling the power of the Void eat away at him, little by little.
He rolled onto firm ground, looked up, and twisted away as a savage claw made a pass at shredding his face. Malzahar’s voidling, those creatures that sprung from the source of his spells as a side effect, had now grown huge and frenzied, leaping like a predator at Yi constantly.
It tried to jump on him, so he caught it on his sword, and flung the beast off into a fern.
Yi leaned forwards, and slammed his sword into the Voidling. The creature squealed, twisted, and then shriveled until nothing was left but a blackened shell. Panting, Yi pulled himself up.
Immediately, Yi was hit by cruel visions of his own demise. He could see himself, standing alone against a flood of voidlings, and creatures much worse, pouring out of the sky. Yi could see and feel himself be devoured alive by the creatures. This was Malzahar’s Malefic Visions, was it? The ability blocked much of his Yi’s visions, so he could not see Malzahar sneak up on him to suppress him.
Yi was hit then by a beam of light that shot from Malzahar’s eyes. They completely suppressed his will; Yi could not move an inch unless Malzahar wished it so. All the while, Malzahar was burning away Yi’s soul.
Just… A little bit longer… Yi thought desperately… No… He was going to die… he had to… do something…
Yi focused, and slipped into Slipspace.
Here was a world different from the earth, or even the Void. Here was the fifth dimension, the world he traveled in with each Alpha Strike. Yi drifted over to where Malzahar stood, frozen, and thrust his sword into the prophet’s back.
Immediately, he returned the real world, and the prophet screamed from the seemingly mortal wound. The floating man went rigid, and then turned into a mass of purple space, before disappearing.
He would be back. As slave to the Void, he would be revived once more. But he was out of Yi’s way as of now.
“WHAT?What the HELL?! HOW!?”
The Councilor’s assistant quailed under the interrogation.
“L-Like I said, sir. We found Tryndamere trapped in a deep pit, Ashe frozen solid, and Anivia wandering in an entirely different sector of the Plague Jungles, lost. Tryndamere and Anivia are fine, and we’re treating Ashe for hypothermia right now”
“Bah!” spat Councilor Garth Gareth, the man appointed head of the search and capture mission for Master Yi. “Who cares about them? Useless, stupid idiots… Can’t even handle one champion… and Master Yi at that.” The man muttered and cursed for a while, before realizing something that made him very excited. He fixed the assistant with an evil grin. “Did… IT… agree to come?”
“Um… yes.” The assistant glanced at his sheet. “It… agreed to come from its imprisonment on the condition we sacrifice thirteen living souls to it after the mission is complete.”
“Humph.” Garth crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll just find thirteen idiots somewhere in my department later. I’ve got plenty of them.” The huge man rubbed his eyes with hairy arms. His robes did nothing to cover his enormous stature. “So… who do we have in the meanwhile?”
The assistant glanced back down at his tablet.
“Shen, Akali, and Kennen reported in. We have more Champions volunteering to retrieve Master Yi, they should be here within a couple of days.”
Garth rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
“Okay. Just pull those ninjas to the jungle and let’em loose. Let them do their ninja thing. They can all go to hell for all I care; they just have to stall for IT.”
“Understood, sir” The assistant bowed, and exited the tent, leaving Garth alone. The huge man smiled. He was savoring the anticipation. IT was coming. And he couldn’t wait to set it loose.
“Yi.” Yi glanced back. It was Shen, and acting absolutely not like a ninja, was standing in plain view behind him.
“Master Shen.” Yi nodded at him. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yi.” Shen held out his hand, palm up. “Won’t you come quietly? What is so important for you here?” Yi glanced at Shen’s outstretched hand.
“Shen… I can’t.” Yi shook his head sadly. “If I go back, the ghosts I carry in my heart will never die.” Yi swung his sword to his shoulder. “Or rather, I will never be able to kill them.” Shen slowly lowered his hand in disappointment. He seemed to shrink.
“Let it be so. We will take you back by force and beat some sense in you later.” He raised his hand, and his comrades struck. Akali jumped from a tree to the left of Yi, and Kennen fell from the direction of the sun, shuriken in hand. The future vision of Yi was barely enough for him to dodge Akali’s scythes and Kennen’s shuriken. Yi knew instantly he was outmatched. He won a fight against three champions using dirty tricks. There was no way he could defeat three that ambushed HIM.
“YI!” yelled Shen, who started his taunt, which was more than just words, but magically-infused shouts to force Yi to attack him. Yi overloaded his noise canceller on the back of his head, to emit a screeching noise block out the sound of Shen’s taunt, and caused every ninja to grasp at their ears in pain. Ninjas have more sensitive ears than normal people do, Yi noticed.
With that, Yi fled.
“Wait!” yelled Shen, reaching out. “Yi!" As soon as they recovered, each Ninja dashed after Yi.
Even with Highlander, Yi had trouble creating distance between the ninjas and him. He had to work every step to gain his advantage. Yi consulted his map. The sword HAS to be close by, he thought. He saw all of the landmarks near it. He rushed past a long-dead altar, an old Ionian Pavilion, and a stone dragon. These are all Ionian design, he realized. He had to be close. Yi stopped onto a blank stone clearing.
It SHOULD be here! He searched around, confused, until he saw a slot in the ground.
Could it be…? Yi placed his sword into the slot.
Well, he was stumped. Yi tried to pull his sword out, but it was stuck. He pulled harder, but it was stuck fast. He pulled with all of his strength… and the sword came free… along with the ground. Yi fell into a deep chamber under the clearing.
Looks like… it was just poor building design.
Yi shook his head, and looked about. He was in a dusty old anteroom, with a raised platform in the middle. The light from the hole he broke through shone onto the center of the platform… and on it…
A sword. The sword. Yi stepped forwards, slowly, almost reverently. He glanced down an inscription on its side, and read it out loud.
The characters were in the Qin’s dialect. It read: Dragon Rising From Ocean To Heaven. He knew those words from somewhere. But from where? He gripped the Dragon Rising sword. The grip felt good. But like all swords stuck in the ground, it was stuck fast.
“Hell,” Yi muttered. He pulled harder… and something in the sword pulled back. What was he to do? He let the sword have its way.
AGGGGH! The sword suddenly started draining EVERYTHING from him. He felt his essence pour into the slowly warming steel, and the inscriptions seemed to glow. His life’s works, skills, experiences, rushed into the sword like a river. It was like standing under a waterfall. It was like BEING a waterfall. He wanted to stop; stop the sword from robbing everything from him, but he was held fast to the blade. He just kept on draining, and draining himself further and further….
“Yi!” He heard Akali’s voice ring out through the chamber. She found the hole he made in the clearing above. “Shen! I found him! He’s here!”
Just… a little bit more…
Akali leapt from the hole to the ground, she ran at him, trying to tackle him… but finally, the sword came loose, and as Akali struck him, Yi stumbled back, clutching the Dragon Rising sword. Akali recovered, then circled him cautiously.
“Yi…” Akali raised her scythes. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Yi raised his sword in response… and felt nothing. There was nothing. He held his sword clumsily and awkwardly; he no longer felt the flow of his chi. It was then he realized—the sword had robbed him of eight thousand years of training. He could no longer launch an Alpha Strike, no longer ignite his sword, nor could he meditate effectively. He was truly nothing now.
Kennen and Shen appeared from the hole in the ceiling, and jumped on him from above. The three ninjas dog-piled him. He felt himself being restrained, but it no longer mattered. He, once called master, could no longer even hold the title. He had failed.
Ahri strolled through the tents of the League’s encampment. Hundreds of summoners had gathered here to keep Master Yi under lock and key. Each one of the cast the banned spell, Emprison, on Master Yi in turn, keeping him indefinitely in stasis. He was locked under a tree, guarded by Akali, Shen, and Kennen. The spell cast a prison cage around the Master. He could talk, and look around, but he could not move an inch from the tight cage surrounding his sitting, praying form.
Akali eyed Ahri suspiciously as she approached.
“I’m here to see Yi. Let me pass?” Akali held her scythes up, but Shen came up behind Akali, and put a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s alright, Akali. Let her pass.” Akali glanced once at Shen, and then at Ahri, before lowering her scythes slowly. Ahri smiled at Shen, before walking over to the captured Wuju Blades-man. She sat at his side, and lay against the cherry blossom that he was resting against.
“Hello again, Yi-Yi.” She smiled.
“Hello, Ahri.” Master Yi looked up at the fox. She seemed so much more human now, smiling. “I’m sorry for what I said about your humanity. You’re as human as anyone in the league.” Singed’s image flashed through his mind for an instant before he recovered. “And more than many.”
“Thank you.” Ahri’s tails started wagging, and she smiled more. “So did you find what you were looking for?” She leaned over to look at his new sword.
“Yes,” Yi held up his Dragon Rising sword. The League had tried to confiscate it from him, but it seemed it was now magically bound to him, and could not be more than ten feet from him. “I found what I was looking for… but I lost something else.”
“Pretty...” Ahri admired the blade. “It looks strong… by the way, did you eat? I had my disciples bring kitsune tofu.”
Master Yi chuckled.
“That’s very fox-like of you, Ahri. I didn’t know you bought into the myth that foxes like kitsune.”
“That’s not all, Yi.” Ahri gestured to the disciple bringing the tofu. “Hae-In made it.”
“Hae-In?!” Yi looked up at the serving woman. It… it really was…
“My husband.” She held laid the tray at his feet. “I’m glad you’re still safe.”
Yi looked up into the face of his wife. She was dressed in a simple garb, holding a tray of fried tofu. Her smile was more beautiful than anything he had seen since he left the institute. He bowed to Ahri and Hae-In.
“Thank you… Thank you…”
“…So that’s it.”
Councilor Garth stood in an extremely dark tent. Seated, if you could call its pose that, in the center, was something spindly and inhuman. Its glowing emerald eyes burned maliciously as the Councilor offered his feeble excuses.
“So… what you are telling me… is that the mission is already done.” The voice that came out was like bubbling acid; it burned the ears and grated your soul.
“Y-Yes.” Why did he feel so afraid, wondered Garth. He was a Councilor of the League… and here was something that looked like it could barely hurt a sheaf of wheat.
“Now…” The being grated its teeth. “What does that have to do with my sacrifices? The thirteen you had promised me?”
The Councilor decided to take a stand.
“No mission, no sacrifices.” Garth crossed his arms with finality. “I’m not going to risk my job, dragging thirteen dolts from their work, just to feed your fat arse.” The figure instead clacked its teeth with annoyance.
“You drag me from my home, pull me into the sun, lure me with promises of fresh souls and new meat. And then you betray me… Summoner… this is unacceptable.” The figure fingered his scythe.
“Go to hell!” Garth motioned out the door “You want souls so bad, go get it yourself! Selfish arsehole.”
The figure gave a wide smile; the grin was like a gash in its potato sack skull.
“Is that an order… Summoner?”
Garth’s eyes widened, and he started to speak:
“Wh--” And then the scythe came whizzing down, carving off the Councilor’s hand. The huge man doubled up in pain, clutching his stump. “A-AARRGGGGH! AGGGH!”
“Rejoice, summoner! I want not your tasteless soul! I desire virgins and bravehearts, heroes and saviors, to feed the emptiness within me!”
They were coming. Yi crouched low in the rushes by the riverbank. His allies waited alongside him.
Master Yi leveled his Dragon Rising Blade at his final enemy; angling the tip at his heart. The disgusting monster was even more revolting in battle, with his thin, rotted limbs that moved awkwardly in battle, or his shrouded face that concealed horrific chemical burns. Singed. The Human-Chemical weapon walked slowly towards Yi with his allies, each more sinister than the last. He did not know they were there yet.
This was it. Whoever claimed victory at this juncture would have a clear shot at their opponent’s nexus. The duration of a respawn had been drawn out to an eternity. Every move was crucial.
Yi let his sword drop; the razor sharp edge cut rivets in the muddy river water that they stood over. In the background, he could see the Baron Nashor, a monstrous purple serpent with a mouth as wide and dark as hell, writhe in his personal pool of muck and acid, ready to devour any champion foolish enough to fall in reach of his maw. To his back, he could sense his allies, tensing for the upcoming fight…
Unlike most other battles in the Fields of Justice, Yi was fighting alongside close friends this time. Like comrades, they were siblings of war.
Singed and his party were coming. But Yi needed a little bit more. His friends were all injured, and their abilities had been spent.
He had come this far… Yi had evolved more in this past half-year than he had in any thousand. But an ultimate ability was still out of his grasp. After the Dragon Rising Blade had robbed him of all of his power, Yi had to learn new ones. But a truly devastating move eluded him.
Please, Dragon Rising… Yi pleaded in his mind… Grant me the power to defeat my enemies. Give me the strength... to bring justice to Singed, and peace to my wife and village
He closed his eyes.
The Sparring Pits. The duel arenas of the Institute of War. The ugly, hive-like and jagged structure loomed on a mountain north of the Institute of war. Seven circular arenas, each of them crafted out of what looked like junk, formed a larger, circular super-structure, six forming an outer ring and one in the center, in which Champions could test their might in one upon one duels. The fights were all extremely dangerous, as many Champions are as powerful as demi-gods, and all fights were fought with only the protection afforded in the Fields of Justice. Challenges are not lightly given, as they could easily result in death.
As such, many of the most powerful Champions cause the Sparring Pits to clear out if they even stray close enough to the pits.
Jarvan the Fourth, the Exemplar of Demacia was sitting at the long tables, a jug of ale in his hands, chatting with his subjects over his latest victory. He didn’t know it, but both Xin Zhao and Garen had held back in their 2 v 1 in the arenas, but they both knew Jarvan didn’t have to know that. Jarvan laughed uproariously at a joke he just told, and took a swig of ale, before something caught his eye.
Three somethings, strolling through the entrance.
Jax always turned many heads as he strode in through the entrance gate. The Grandmaster at Arms was the undisputed champion of the Sparring Pits, and his presence always caused a great deal of animosity and jealously. More than a few of the combatants milling about ground their teeth at the sight of him, wanting to finally usurp the King from his throne, but unable to.
More heads turned at the sight of Ahri, who was following the Grandmaster. Mages and the like were very rarely seen in the Sparring Pits, as all combat was unguarded, a wrong hit with a very real weapon would break bones and crush organs. On the flip side, few flat human warriors, like Fiora or Gangplank, had any sort of defense against an orb of pure magic, or a wave of fire. As such, magic versus physical fights were always short, fast, and deadly.
But the most surprising appearance by far was Master Yi’s, as the rumor that he had lost his capability to fight had spread like wildfire through the Institute. That the Master would even show up in such a dangerous environment was incredible, even more now that he was nothing more than an average man with a sword.
Jax strode up to a dirty booth set into a rock wall, and tapped the cell bars separating him and the snoozing attendant.
“Marcus. Wake up and give me the keys to Arena Zero.”
The attendant, a fat, balding man with a frizzy red bread, woke up flustered.
“Whe—Who? Oh… Jax” Marcus the Attendant rubbed his eyes, and rummaged in a bag stained suspiciously with something that looked like blood. He muttered darkly at the enormous man as he fumbled. “Dammit, I wuz sleeping, man.” He slammed a rusty ring of keys into the slot in the bars.
“Here yeh go, yeh impatient basterd. One set’o keys… So, who’s the unlucky… dead meat nah… ow!” Marcus whistled as he noticed Ahri behind the hulking Grandmaster. Marcus blushed a bit as he tipped his head at the fox. “’Cuse me, Ma’am! I didn’t know someone as fine as yeh… I mean…” Marcus turned and whispered to Jax. “Don’t break her, ‘kay? It’d be a tragic loss to men, everywhere.”
Ahri huffed, annoyed.
“Not me,” She jerked her thumb at Yi. “Him.” The attendant didn’t notice her, and was too busy miming humping movements to Jax.
The Nine-Tailed Fox grabbed Yi and Jax, and strode angrily towards their arena. They took a short corridor down, before arriving at another cell door, with seven locks in it. Ahri took each key in turn, and unlocked each of the locks, grunting with effort. The aging mechanics groaned, and a rumbling sound rung off of the stone walls. A cage rose to meet the cell door, and the door swung open with a piercing creak.
Jax nudged Yi into the cage.
“In you go. I’ll meet you on the other side.” Yi took a light step in and turned to face the two. The cell down was closing slowly. Jax gave Yi a thumbs-up, but Ahri remained stony-faced. Yi hung his head, and leaned against the cage walls. He was so tired…
The cell doors almost closed, before Ahri gave an exasperated “Ugh!” and darted into the cage. Yi imagined he could see Jax’s eyebrows shoot into his forehead, as he watched the hulking man disappear upwards, as the cage sunk into the ground. The two Champions stood in silence as the cage-elevator rumbled its way to their arena. Seconds dragged on into what felt like hours, as Ahri stared determinedly off into space.
“Ahri…” Yi started to say, but the Fox turned her head even further.
The cage ground to a halt, and the front door popped open. Yi took a step forwards, before Ahri blurted out, “Yi!”
Yi stopped, and turned to face her.
“I’ll fix you. Somehow.” She pushed him out.
They strode out into arena.
The ground was a grayish dirt, ground out in a circular fashion, with steep walls rising all around them. Seven pillars stood proud in the fading sun, crafted from the hardest iron, fashioned to look like stone pillars, and magically-runed to withstand the toughest the League Champions to throw at them. At the top of the walls, the spectator’s stands rose to crown the arena. Practically the entire Sparring Pits had dropped everything to watch Jax fight.
Jax was standing in the center, his trusty lamppost at ready. Yi had fought the deadly light fixture before. Jax handled the improvised weapon as if were the most balanced edge, and he could easily crush steel and rock with the brass staff.
Jax swung the lamppost up, and held it in front of him.
“Yi… ” Jax tensed up. Yi slowly brought his Dragon Rising blade up. The sword felt as awkward as ever in his clumsy hands. Jax sighed, as he registered Yi’s discomfort with the blade. The man shook his head slightly.
“I hope this works,” he muttered, as he leapt and struck.
Yi woke up. The world seemed to be running colors again. No. Jax had just grazed him, for the twentieth time, it seemed. The Wuju master was sprawled at the base of one of the pillars, bruised, bloodied, and confused. He and Jax had been sparring for the last half hour. No, sparring would be the wrong world. Slaughtered would be better fitting, except that with each blow, Jax held back tremendously. Yi would have been killed several times over if not for the Grandmaster’s mercy.
Yi tried to stand, using his sword as a support, but he collapsed as his knees gave out. Yi raised a hand. He was done.
“No… no more.”
Jax slumped, and struck the bass of his lamppost into the ground.
“Is that really it, Yi? No spark, no nothing?”
Yi sadly shook his head. He truly was human now. So many times during the fight, he tried to launch an Alpha Strike, but the Wuju arts that let him slip into Slipspace to appear behind the foe was lost to him now. His pinnacle art of Chi focus, his Meditation, constantly evaded his grasp. His Wuju style was lost to him.
“Ahri… Jax… I’m sorry.” Yi pulled himself up and started towards the exit.
“You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” Ahri slammed Yi hard with a spirit orb. Yi collapsed onto the ground. This was not the first time that Ahri had lost her temper during the fight. Once she nearly killed the two of them with a dash straight into the middle of them that shot lightning bolts into their guts. “You CAN’T be done already! You can’t!” Ahri grabbed Yi by the collars and started shaking him. “I promised! I'd fix you!”
She head-butted Yi, smashing into his seven-lensed helmet. Fortunately, Heimerdinger’s craftsmanship was too good for his work to be damaged as easily as that. Unfortunately, fox's skulls are not crafted meticulously from tempered steel, and Ahri’s skull broke.
“…!” Ahri crumpled wordlessly as she clutched at the helmet-shaped dent in her forehead.
Yi reached out, but she brushed it off, seriously pissed now. She strode up to Jax, and punched him in the gut. Of course, it did nothing but confuse Jax.
“Ahri… what are you--?”
Ahri grabbed his lamppost, and put the business end on her head.
“Hit me.” She was dead serious. Jax looked around, before moving in closer, wondering if he had heard wrong.
“Hit. Me.” Ahri punctuated each word with a tap on the lamppost. Ahri glanced back at Yi, taunting him. Yi had never felt as confused in his entire life, which was saying something. “If you don’t care about yourself, or your revenge enough that you won’t take this training seriously, Yi…” Ahri fixed Jax with deathly stare. “Let’s see how you care about somebody else.”
“Jax. Hit. Me.”
There were murmurs of confusion, and protests from the spectators at this proclamation, and Jax shrugged helplessly.
“Ahri, I’m not going to hit you.”
Ahri gave a very fox-like growl, and then stomped off to one of the spectating walls. She called out to a observing Summoner.
“You there! Summoner! What’s your name?”
The Summoner looked around confused, before calling back down,
“I’m a big fan of yours, Miss Ahri! My name is--”
“Whatever.” Ahri blew him a kiss. “Summoner, your heart is mine…” The spell stuck the poor boy straight in the face, and he immediately gazed longingly at Ahri, in a trance.
Ahri called out in her sweetest voice, “Summoner, is your every desire mine?”
“Y-Yes… my Ah…Ahri…”
“Good… now take control of the Grandmaster at Arms for me, pretty please?”
“Y-Ye..” The Summoner made an outward motion with his hands, and a glass-like orb sprung out of nowhere at his fingertips. The image in the glass orb locked onto Jax as he and Yi yelled out in confusion.
“Ahri! What’re you doing?!” Yi yelled, struggling to his feet.
Ahri turned back, and smiled at him, as the Summoner seized control of the Grandmaster at Arms. The Grandmaster slumped forwards, arms limp.
“Yi…” Ahri called out, “I’m fixing you..." She turned to the Charmed Summoner.
Ahri took a deep breath.
"Use Jax to kill me.” Immediately, Jax leapt with deadly force, and slammed into Ahri as hard as he could with his lamppost.
“No!” Yi reached out with his hand, as he saw Ahri cry out in pain, and go tumbling across the arena. Many of the spectators were calling out in protest at the brutality, and those that were Champions immediately tried to intervene, but the ever-present magic barrier separating the combatants from the audience kept them at bay.
Jax ran at full force with his lamppost. He called out desperately, “Yi! I can’t stop myself! I’m not in control!”
Jax leapt again, intending to crush Ahri’s skull, but the Fox Spirit Dashed out of the way, narrowly avoiding the fate of the iron pillar behind her, which was crushed at the base, despite its strengthening charms. Jax immediately ran at Ahri again, charging his lamppost with additional power. His lamppost shone gold with the energy as he swung at Ahri again with killing force. The Fox narrowly escaped death once more with a desperate dash. Jax’s full-force blow caused a crater the size of a small house to erupt in the center of the arena. The ground shook with Jax's latent magical power.
“Ahri!” Yi called out, as he struggled to his feet. “Stop this!”
Ahri pulled herself up, knees shaking. No one had ever seen the Grandmaster fight seriously outside of the Fields of Justice. His un-bridled power was a terrifying and awesome sight.
“Yi… You put so much pressure on yourself, to protect. For your friends… for those you love… you would die for them.” Ahri gave a grim smile. “I know that about you. That’s why…” She spread her arms out as Jax started his ultimate strike. The arena started to buzz with the magical energy overflowing from his lamppost. Despite it being unplugged, the lamppost shone brighter than the sun, and darkened the arena around it.
“I’m going to be like you. I'm dying for a friend right here. I trust you, Yi.” She left herself defenseless as the Grandmaster leapt.
“AHRI!” Yi stood, and crouched. He prayed desperately to the sword.
Really, it's so rare to find a well structured text such as this(well, i can't say much since i can't write one either) that when i find one i just can't stop reading...
Most of the fanfics are like "he did this then he did that, the he put his hands at his pockests him he he him he he him his him he..." and it's so.... Hard to tolarate such a repetitive word, that no mater how good the plot is, I simply can't read it...
You did a really good job both on the Plot and structure.
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