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(Not sure if this is the place for it, but seemed appropriate)
I'm not a writer by any means, so let me know what you think (I was considering writing a few as apart of a series to flesh out the stories of some of the characters I like).
Know you Summoner, the tale of the Prophet ?
The Prophet of Shurima, made Prophet of the Void ? From seer to sorceror, engulfed by his own gift.
A tale that began millenia ago, under the Shurima moon.
A young seer lay awake exhausted, but terrified, of what his dreams may bring. It was all he could do to avoid the visions. But try as he did, the weight of his lids was too much to bear, and with time he sank, slowly, into darkness and dream...
Malzahar's vision brough him to a room with two robed occupants, arguing late into the cold desert night by an arcane fire, formed of blue flame.
"...but the possibilities are endless Xerym," spoke the deep voice of the young man seated nearest the flames.
"As are the dangers, my friend," replied Xerym, an older man, who stood outside of the glow of the fire, by his desk.
"A risk I am willing to take. The potential power I can unlock may change the very nature of our craft. A power out of this world. A power that transcends our mortality. We cannot let feable human fear hold us back."
"Your desire to advance our powers is admirable brother, but you are approaching the limit of our understanding of the arca.."
"AND PUSHING THAT LIMIT FURTHER THAN OUR KIND'S WILDEST DREAMS! TO PRO..."
"ENOUGH!" yelled Xerym, as he took a step forward into the light, towering over his younger brother. "Xerath, your talent is one Runeterra has never seen, but I fear your ambition will be your undoing. You are young, reckless and have yet to learn to control your powers. The line between knowledge and wisdom is fine, brother, so I ask of you to trust me. Be patient. You will grow into your strength, with time. I cannot allow you to continue as you have. If you choose to proceed down this path, I can help you no more. Your fate will be yours and yours alone."
"So be it Xerym. You have been over protective. A cowardice I will be glad to be free of," said Xerath as he rose to his feet making for the door.
"Xerath," said Xerym. Xerath paused without turning to face his brother. Xeram continued, "your greed can only end in destruction, brother, please. It will not bring you peace."
"Peace? They deserve no peace," whispered Xerath. He stood perfectly still, lost in thoughts of a dark silence, broken by the distant scream of a young boy...
To which our seer bolted upright, awakened, drenched in sweat, shaking as he gripped the sides of his bed. "Inevitable".