Well, here it is. The first chapter in a, hopefully, long piece. It's about Kassadin, and it's worth noting that I'm pretending that the whole league is already in place before the story begins, i.e. people like Varus will already be in the League, although Kassadin joined much earlier. Hopefully yall can get around that. Also, it's a working title, not entirely sure where the story is going, so it'll probably be changed after I figure out more about what this story is going to be doing. This first chapter is also a little short, I think anyway, and the future ones will probably be longer, but the length of the entire story should be what people think of anyway, so whatever.
Quick shout out to Paladin of Light, as someone who said that action would be a good part of my next story in my last one, Shyvana and the Dragon's pot of gold.
FF link right here.
9-12-12: Chapter 2 added, took longer than expected, but here it is. More tomorrow!
9-15-12: Chapter 3 added. Rewrote this one almost twice, so that's why it took so long. Enjoy. Might be all weekend before I can get chapter 4 up.
9-17-12: Chapter 4 added. yikes, hope yall think it's as awesome as I do.
Anyway, without further ado,
9-20-12: FF url added here. Chapter 5 will be up on it soon and not present here because it's going to have a fair amount of graphic violence, which I'm uncomfortable adding right onto the forums.
Kassadin sighed, another book in the grand library of Demacia that had looked promising, delivered nothing. Just another memoir of a madman. He wondered if there would ever be any concrete evidence to support the existance of the lost city, Icathia.
Kassadin got up from his chair and pushed it back into place at the desk. He was on the upper balcony of the grand library in Demacia. There were tunnels that led off into more literary storage on either side of him. Behind Kass, there were two staircases on either side of the balcony that led down into an interlocked landing. The balcony itself only stretched across one side of the rectangular chamber. Beneath the balcony was the door to the forbidden texts, a place that Kass wished he could gain access to more than anything.
The only way for that to happen was for him to be a part of the Demacian military, and only citizens of Demacia could be part of the military. Although Piltover had been a great place to grow up, Kass found himself wishing, once again, that his birthplace had been elsewhere.
Kass sighed again, and began to walk away, discarding the memoir of the self proclaimed "Paladin of Light" into the return pile on his way. He walked down the staircase and realized just how many books there were in this massive library. The entire main chamber was filled with rows of massive bookcases and ladders, (to reach the top of the bookcases) and each bookcase was filled with books.
There must have been something like 100,000 books in the entire library. Kass had read them all. Searching for the slightest mention of Icathia in the texts had been the way that Kassadin spent the last roughly 9 months. There had been no progress in his search.
Kassadin's mother had forbidden him to continue the search for hidden knowledge when he was 16, fearing that he would become consumed by the insane idea that Icathia even existed. When Kassadin's mother died 8 years later, he decided to take up the search once again, abandoning the meager life that he had built as a courier. The next two years had brought him to the most expansive libraries in Valoran, but, with the completion of the Demacian library, there had been not one single allusion to the hidden city.
"Sometimes, you have to do things the hard way," Kass repeated to himself under his breath while he walked toward the entrance to the library.
Kass had begun repeating rules of advice to himself after his twentieth birthday. His encounter with secret knowledge was inevitable and would require mental focus. Surprisingly, life as a courier brought him next to many influential figures. He had learned much in the way of wisdom during his eight year stint.
Kassadin remembered one time when a gang learned of his whereabouts during a trip to a certain university, carrying certain valuable materials. Although he had been beaten badly, he held onto the package until the sheriff had arrived, teaching Kassadin the value of not giving into fear, and sticking through.
Kass exited the library, giving a quick nod to the librarian on the way out. She was nice looking, and almost certainly into him, but Kass was not interested in romance. He was bound to find out why he had been called to search for Icathia eventually.
The bright sun on his face reminded Kass of when he had dreamed up the name of Icathia, surprising his mother greatly when he had asked her what the name referred to. Kass had been only ten years old, when he dreamed of a bright light, blocking all vision of the surrounding area, and the bright light had told him to search for the lost city of Icathia and to forever try to understand the world around him.
Kass had done well understanding the world around him, being a bright young student of the education system of Piltover had provided him with the resources to know all there was to know about everything from techmaturgy, to necromancy.
Life hadn't been easy when kids learned about his dream of Icathia. They had called him psycho, freak, and other cruel names that Kassadin did not wish to recall. Instead of deterring him, however, all their punishment served to do was to steel his resolve, eliminating all doubts that this was his destined path.
He had been forced to learn a martial art to deter the daily lunchtime attacks that plagued his childhood. Knowing that guns were too hard to sneak into school, Kassadin had learned the ancient ways of the assassins and their katars. Katars were generic blades that were fastened to the wrist, and could be used on both wrists, or just one. Kass had learned how to sneak in a small knife at first, then designed a pulley system that would push the blade out into the required area from farther up the sleeve. Kass was left handed, so put the contraption into his right sleeve, so as to hide it during the mundane tasks of the day.
Soon, Kass got used to the action of quickly pulling the blade out of his sleeve, and using only his right hand to engage in martial arts. In his mind, Kassadin divided the actions of attack and defense to his right hand, while all normal activities were placed upon his left hand.
There was no reason that he couldn't use his left hand when required in a violent situation, but he would be able to quickly react with his right hand whenever the situation required, as it was always ready.
Kass was shocked out of his reverie while walking through the alleys of Demacia back to his apartment, which he would usually only go to when it was late out and the library had closed, when he heard the scream.
Kassadin bursted into action, cloak billowing behind him as he sprinted through the narrow corridors between the buildings toward the scream's origin. A sharp right turn, a tricky left turn over a trash bin, and Kass found why the scream had been uttered.
A young girl, no more than 16, was being thrown against the wall by a group of four guys, who were more than likely around 19 years old. These guys, Kassadin noted, looked like really bad news. They were in the process of tearing through the girl's clothes, though for riches or for some other reason, Kassadin knew not.
Neither did he care.
Bumping his right elbow against his side to activate the pulley system and whip out his now fully two foot long, half a foot, at the base, wide katar, which clicked into place, the collapsing mechanism worked perfectly in reverse. Kassadin sprinted towards the four men, uttering not a sound.
Upon reaching them, they had not even noticed his approach, he swung his arm from below and impaled the closest man's head on the katar from below the chin. A spatter of blood sprayed across the remaining five people's faces, alerting the first victim's friends that something was amiss.
Kass stopped not to allow them to realize what had happend, whipping his katar out of the first man's head and deftly cutting another's throat before he could react. The only sound the man said in protest, as blood began to pour down the man's chest, was gurgling.
There were only two left, but both pulled long swords from their scabbards. For the feintest of moments, Kassadin and the remaining two men stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do. Kassadin's face contorted in concentration as he leaped into the air, planted both feet on either side of the narrow alley, and pushed himself foreward and into the dirt.
He aimed the katar for the right man's knee, hoping the element of surprise this strange move would elicit would be enough for them to not simply sweep their swords down. He was right, Kass sled along the now slick cobblestones and stabbed the katar straight through the right man's kneecap, making the man yell out in pain, as he had probably never felt such a would. Kass also grabbed the left man's knee on the way past, pulling his feet out from under him.
Kass then yanked his katar to the left, attempting to extract the weapon from the right man's knee. Kassadin threw himself into the effort as much as he could, but the katar stayed put.
Kass gulped as he realized that his only line of defense was now both useless and strapping his right hand to an intruder's leg. Thinking fast, Kass twisted himself around, placing his right arm over his body, as he looked up and began to kick the injured man's face as hard as possible, a quick way to kill a man without a weapon was to sever the spinal cord from trauma caused to the front of the head.
The man yelled out again and again until Kass finally heard a sickening snap as the deed was finished. The man fell limp, twisting Kassadin's right wrist as it contorted the angle of the katar. It hurt, but Kass remembered that pain was always either temporary or unavoidable.
Unfortunately, the last man had clambered to his feet during this time and Kass looked back to him just in time to see the long metal sword enter his abdomen. It was strangely cold, like pain was simply not applicable to lethal wounds. Time slowed down around Kass as he followed the trail of his blood flow into the street and mix with the three other men's.
His blood was darker than the other colors, but seemed to be swept away by some blinding light. He figured that it would be the entity from his dream entering his consciousness to thank him for his attempt to find the lost city, Icathia, but before it could say anything, the whole world went dark, leaving Kassadin's possible closure, billowing in the wind.
Kassadin awoke, but did not open his eyes. He did not wish to confront the reality of being outside the chamber of eternal judgement too quickly. Instead he drew a deep breath from his nose, finding that the area outside the final court room smelled remarkably like the previous world.
Kass didn't care what befell him at this point. In all likely hood he would end up going to hell. Life hadn't exactly been pretty sometimes. Although, his final attempt to save that girl would almost certainly earn him points with whoever the judges were. Or perhaps judge. Religion had never really entered into his life; there had always been something more important to be doing.
Guess the joke is on me then, Kassadin thought to himself grimly. In the end, he had failed, and all of it had meant nothing. Nobody would probably even remember him. Perhaps that girl would, but what was one person's memory compared to the goal of finding the lost city of Icathia.
Wait, Kassadin thought defiantly, I saved that girl from a very probable terrible fate. I can think of many worse ways to cause one's own death. He grew in confidence, knowing that every good deed that he had done had brightened up the world a little, and even if he did go to hell, Kassadin would know that his life had meant something. Perhaps it had only meant something to a few people, but to those few, it was meaningful.
Kassadin drew upon the confidence gained to be brave enough to open his eyes. Upon doing so, he was surprised to find that the ceiling outside the place of eternal judgement was tile. Well, tile wasn't the worst choice for the place in between eternal reward and eternal damnation. It was pretty neutral, all considered, he thought.
Another scent wafted into Kassadin's nasal cavities, but he was unable to make sense of it.
After all, he continued to ponder, Tile was used in places like schools, waiting rooms, hospitals . . .
Kass practically threw himself out of his current horizontal positioning, only to find the familiar sight of nurses, doctors, and depressing beige colored walls.
He wasn't dead, this was a hospital!
Then he realized that the exertion had made his abdomen wound burn in pain.
Laying back down, he realized that it was a bed that he rested in, and could hear the familiar sounds of people trying to be quiet visiting while others rested. He reached for his stomach, only to find that he was in restraints.
This day just kept giving Kassadin mixed signals. Although, he had no guarantee that it was indeed the same day as when he had left the library for the last time.
What an unnerving turn of events. Restraints? Kass wondered. That was the last thing that he had expected to have happen.
"Look he's awake."
The sound of a nurse caused Kass to lift his head to see who approached. A surgeon with eyes that glowed brightly from behind horned rim glasses, a short yordle in an eye mask, scrubs, and a doctor's coat, and a beautiful nurse with long black hair approached his bed.
The surgeon was the one to speak, "Hello young man, I'm surgeon Shen, this is my associate, Kennen M.D, and your nurse, Akali." His voice was disturbingly knowing, as if he could tell Kassadin exactly what he had eaten on his seventh birthday, without even thinking about it.
The surgeon wasted no time pressing down on different parts of Kassadin's body, searching for a pulse at first, and then something that was unknown. Akali described the wound that plagued the stomach to the doctor, who was staring at the patient chart while rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
The surgeon seemed unworried as he stopped the impromptu examination as quickly as it had begun. With a couple quick snaps, gloves appeared on the surgeon's hands as he pulled out a vial with dull green liquid contained in it. Uncorking the vial, Surgeon Shen poured the contents out on top of the wound located on Kassadin's stomach.
Due to Kassadin's well built upper torso muscles, he couldn't lift his head well enough to see the wound itself, which was just below his rib cage. He did feel instant relief, followed by the most insatiable itch that he had ever felt.
The nurse then undid the restraints, saying, "Alright now dear, just take it easy for a couple of days, the potion only works when you're awake because it draws on your essence. A little bit of nausea is to be expected, so don't operate any heavy machinery."
"Why, the restraints?" Kass asked, truly wondering what the purpose had been if they were just going to undo them.
The nurse sighed, then said with the slightest hint of irritation, "We didn't want you messing with the injury after you woke up until you had been treated." She then shook her head and walked away with the surgeon, muttering something about "there being so many noobs."
The short doctor stayed and said, "You should stay here, some demacian officials wanted to talk to you when you woke up." Before Kassadin could say anything, the short doctor flew away, faster than you could expect electricity to move.
Sufficiently confused, Kassadin sat up and felt around his stomach, incredulously finding there to be absolutely no aberrations in his skin. Taking a closer look, he found that there was only the slightest of scars present, only a couple of millimeters in width. It did give him a good idea for a new piece of armor that he could take advantage of.
Wishing to leave as soon as possible, since officials rarely liked having to deal with bodies in the streets, Kass threw his legs over the edge of the bed, only to find that he was not only without his clothes, but all of his belongings were missing.
Without a doubt, the officials had discovered his concealed weapon, and taken it, along with all of his clothes, for no reason. Guess I'll wait for the officials then, he thought, since I don't have much choice in the matter.
Kass got up and went over the the bedside chair, if only so that he would look more normal and functional of mind when the officials got there.
As it turned out, he didn't have to wait very long before a large man, in even more massive armor, and a petit young blond girl strode into the hospital room. Their entrance drew many glances, as you could only live in Demacia for so long before knowing who they were.
It was clearly Garen and Luxanna Crownguard, both prominent champions of Demacia in their own right. These were officials indeed.
Kass jumped up from his seat and stood up straight, knowing that these two would require more than a little convincing to give him his pulley system back for concealing weapons. Unsure of what else to do, Kassadin bowed low to the floor, attempting to impart as much respect as possible.
Upon this action, he could hear the girl, Luxanna, giggling in delight. She probably wasn't used to this custom, as it was not really one that Demacians engaged in except for the king. Bowing was definitely more of an Ionian thing.
"Now, now, we'll have none of that," Garen commanded in his deep, yet firm voice.
"Oh, why not let him do it for as long as he likes brother?" Lux replied.
"No, we are making this fully grown man treat us like royalty, it simply isn't done," Garen replied, still firm, not a trace of annoyance in his voice.
Kass returned to standing straight, illiciting an, "Awww, I thought it was cute," from Lux.
"It's alright," Kass affirmed, "I spent some time in Ionia, so I'm used to the custom."
"Nevertheless," Garen said, stopping for a moment before continuing, "please follow us so that this conversation can be held in private."
Kassadin motioned with his arm to lead the way, before following them out of the room and through a corridor before arriving at a private room, reserved for people to talk about sensitive subjects.
Inside were five chairs, four of which faced a single one. Garen and Lux sat in two of the chairs facing the one, leaving Kassadin to sit in the single chair.
Wanting to get it out before anyone could say anything Kass asked, "About the three people who took care of my injuries-"
"Those are the triumvirate of the Kinkou, they are the finest medical professionals in Valoran, and only show up when they deem it is needed," Garen interrupted, clearly wanting to get to what he had to say.
The Kinkou, Kassadin thought, They were the secret group commited to maintaining balance in the world between good and evil. That meant that he had been saved to either promote goodness, or evil. He wondered which one it was.
Garen cleared his throat, wanting to get on with the proceedings. Kassadin gave a sheepish look and said, "Sorry. What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Well," Lux jumped out before Garen could say anything, "obviously we want to thank you for the great service you did to our city, not many people would be brave enough to immediately jump in and help someone who was being mugged."
So, they were going with mugging as the story here.
"We also wanted to invite you to dinner, as our personal thanks for saving this year's 'Miss Demacia' winner," Garen said, with almost the slightest hint of gratitude in his voice.
"I would be honored," Kassadin said, knowing it might be the only way to convince them to give him his things back.
"Splendid," Lux exclaimed, "Just be sure to show up at six o'clock sharp tomorrow."
"I will be, Lady of Luminosity," Kass said, with as much respect and well meaning as possible.
Garen was about to say something again when Lux exploded saying, "Oh, I almost forgot. You need clothes! And please, just call me Lux, everyone else does anyway."
Garen's face remained expressionless as he was probably used to this kind of treatment, she was his sister after all. He removed a small satchel from underneath his cloak and held it out to Kassadin. Kass took it, finding his original clothes inside, with the blood washed away and the tear in it mended.
Nodding his head in thanks, Kass began to lay out the clothing to be put on after the Crownguards left.
"But you can't come to dinner in those rags," Lux once again burst out, "Just go shopping tomorrow before you come to dinner. Don't worry about the price, just tell them that Lux sent you and show them this card," Lux held out a small shiny card.
Kassadin took it gingerly as Garen desperately attempted to say something that he had been trying to get at for a while. "We shall have to know your name though," he stated.
"My name is Kassadin, sir," he replied, wanting to still show as much respect as possible.
Garen shook his head incredulously, saying, "Please stop with the respect, you are nearly as good a warrior as many men I command, and it grows tiresome to be treated as a greater human than others."
Kass was about to say something before Garen suddenly went on saying, "On the other hand, you do owe Luxanna here a debt of honor, for she was the one to save your life from the last combatant that you had engaged.
Suddenly the bright light as he had passed out made sense! It was not the mysterious entity, the Lady of Luminosity had intervened. Light was her specialty. Kassadin's thanks would be sincere, no misleading respect would taint it.
Getting down on one knee, Kass bowed down to the floor while saying, "Thank you Lux. I owe you a debt that I can only pray I never get the chance to repay." He then got back up and sat down once again.
Lux's face was beet red, as she looked towards the floor.
Kass wondered what he ha-OH NO. Hospital gowns open at the back!
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