Hey guys this is something I have had hidden somewhere for a while and have posted it in hopes you all can enjoy it.
P.S sorry for any spelling mistakes i r dont spell so good.
We all know that champions are the bodies of the league but it is the summoners who are the minds of the league, but what would happen if a summoner had lost the will to go on and what if his intentions had turned darker.
The room was cold and dark, the only light shining was a small circular orb that was floating above the desk like a tiny sun trying to light a dark world. The scribbling of a pencil and the rustling of pages was the only sound in the room, a lump of what would be considered a person sat in the chair flipping through page after page of books and scribbling down notes on to several different pieces of papers, he stopped and scratched the back of his head and studied the pages hard. The books showed stats, tactics and advice of popular and skilled summoners. The personís name was Azrail, he was a low ranked summoner who didn't show much promise of advancing further in the league, however it is not his lack of skill that hold him back, in fact his skills were quit good form his position, it was the other summoners that caused him to fall into such a bad position in the league. He was trying to find a way to improve but no matter what he tried he couldn't get a break, his nick name around the league was "the cursed" since his matches usually ended in defeat, and lead to his fellow summoners to ridicule and torment him. He turned page after page after page, suddenly he erupted throwing the book across the room and sweeping the rest of the table, and he slumped back in his chair and said to himself as if to give anyone who might be listening and idea of his outburst.
"What's the point, none of this is going to work"
He covered his face with his hands and shook his head
"Maybe their right, maybe I should leave the league after all Iím never going to get any respect from these fools"
His mind then travelled back to a moment in time where he was walking down the hallway of the instituteís dorms, where summoners who wanted could stay if they lived to far from the institute of war, as he walked he could hear the other summoners whispering about him as he went by.
"Look there goes that weird guy, isn't he supposed to be cursed or something?"
"Oh my god I donít know why they let people like him stay here"
"That guy made me have a lost once I made sure to get everyone to report him to the high summoners"
Everyday no matter where at the dorm, at the institute, even at visits back home, itís always the same.
He sigh, he wished he could show them all, make them pay for what they have done to him, he looked down at the ground and his eyes we caught by something, just as a shiny bell dangled over a cat's eye. He slowly bent down and picked up the book, he didn't recognise the design of the book it was as if it had just appeared, he turned the book opened and slowly flicked the pages taking in every word, absorbing it. His eyes widened as he read more and more, this was it, this was what he had been wishing for with the words in this book he could bring the league and all the summoners to their knees then they would show him respect. He slammed the book shut, he then moved over to his bed and picked up his summoners robe with a wave of his hand the orb dissipated, and he went to door he knew what he must do but first he needed to get some help.
To be continued
Next chapter: Waking the shadows
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