I figured I'd dip my hand in trying to write up some fanfic. It's a Riven driven story, her interacting with champions, her thoughts, her coming face to face with Ionians and so forth. It's not really a RivenxCHAMPION (With the exception of one champ being in the first chapter), I want to see where the story is going to go the more I try developing her character and others. How she interacts with the Ionians and so forth. I have some more chapters in mind, but let's see if people enjoy reading this first eh?
It's a long chapter and it's going to be a longer story. Tell me if you want me to divide it up more!
UPDATED MY JOURNAL
This is going to be my little progress bar, so if you want bookmark this page and I'll try to further tantalize y'all =p
UPDATED MY JOURNAL
It's been a long and crazy ride, and the end is only just in sight, but I have gone out and finally put it on fanficiton.net. I will still publish chapters here, but it is all organized and set up for you at fanfiction now =p
--> Changed a word or two due to disliking the original choice
--> Changed a bunch of the semi colons that plagued this chapter.
Death. Death is all she knew. She had just passed the golden gates of the Institute, standing in the golden halls. She had just been subjected to League Judgement and she still felt shaken. Her sword hummed with energy at first, but it slowly died down as dejection set in her heart. She knew she would never be able to share all of the horrors she experienced, the judgement showed her that much. Besides, nobody else deserved such a burden. She brushed her snow colored hair back, wincing as memories raced through.
Taking a single step forward her knees buckled, her lungs felt like they were on fire as memories raced. She clutched her chest and breathed slowly in and out, it was just a lucid memory. Her fingers itched forward, running themselves along the bandages wrapped on the hilt of her blade. It soothed her. That judgement affected her a lot more than she expected. Breath in, breath out, she’s in the Institute now, she had to remember that. The sound of a footstep perked her ears, she darted to a dark corner, no one approached. It was just her imagination once more. She rubbed her eyes in frustration. She was too flustered to think properly.
She forced herself to walk through the Institute until she found a large pair of glass doors. With a quiet creak she slipped out into the quiet night, making her way to a nearby forest. Her body instantly relaxed and she made her through the darkened woodland. Tomorrow she would gain her bearings in the Institute. For now she would need to try and sleep. She needed the rest.
The dawn peered over the Institute, basking it in its glory. The snowy haired woman was already in the Institute. She knew where her first destination was. She slowly and quietly made her way down the corridors, her expression unchanging from disinterest. She brushed her free hand along a wall, running it over the letters spelling Noxian Wards. She frowned when she saw her name etched in a small plaque over a door handle, Riven. With one well aimed slice her name became illegible and she walked away from the door. She heard the sound of creaking wood, she leapt into the shadows and held her breath as a red headed woman walked by. A scar ran down the woman’s eye, she sniffed at the air. The redhead turned away, leaving Riven alone. Riven finally breathed as she left the dark corner and went on her way. She could see sunlight spilling into the hall as she wandered aimlessly. She felt at ease though, this was a habit of hers for years. She had no direction, no specific way to go, and no reason to reach there. All she had were minutes, then days, then years’ worth of thinking dawdling along the twisting road.
Riven’s sword hung loosely from her hand, the memory of the Judgement she received barely a day ago was still fresh. It had shaken her. She had enough trouble sleeping, but now with those horrid memories torn fresh to be displayed drained her quite a bit. Her eyes had dark rings underneath them, her lack of sleep was apparent. She heard more footsteps, she ducked into another dark corner. She crouched low, it was just a Summoner. His sandals pattered down the hall as he ran breathlessly. She simply stayed in the shadows until his footsteps became increasingly quieter, then silent. She hoped the early hours would not have so many people active but she heard doors creak and locks click. This was not to her liking, she would have spent more time figuring out her next step when her body answered for her.
Her stomach growled, she was completely famished. Slowly making her way through the quiet hallways, she simply followed her gut instinct. She could smell the fragrance of food becoming stronger, she realized that she was getting closer to a kitchen. Suddenly from a pair of swinging doors a large man burst out, his belly bouncing about as he grunted with every step. The smell of baked goods permeated her nostrils, her eyes scanned and noticed him hugging a bag, a baguette peered over the top. She cracked the nearby wall with a strike, grabbing a small stone that chipped. With expert aim she threw it at the back of the podgy man’s head, knocking him down and spilling his bread left and right.
With a quick dash she seized the fallen baguette. The man did not notice her presence or the loss of bread. She was too practiced to be caught that easily and he was too busy trying to figure out why his head hurt. He muttered to himself something about serving Summoners their breakfast. Riven slinked away, her steps barely audible as she made her way back to the pair of glass doors, the sunlight now pouring into the Institute. She creaked them open and fled to the same forest as the night prior.
Dismembered limbs flashed through her head, the screams of agony echoed as she shot straight up, her body covered in beads of sweat. She looked around lazily, she had fallen asleep. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she looked around her to see if she had any remnants of the bread. Unfortunately for her, the bread was little more than a few crumbs on the ground. She raised herself off the tree and glanced around. The trees seemed to block out most rays of light from how dense the forest was. She started to make her way through the forest in an attempt to gain a better understanding of her environment.
She wandered about until she noticed a pathway that forked that cut straight through the forest. Choosing one of the two paths she walked down it for a while when she saw a clearing coming. Ducking behind a tree she peered about. This path led to a nearby lake and some trees. Realizing how parched she was she made her way towards the lake. As she neared she suddenly heard singing. It was soft but she could hear it all the same. She stooped to the ground, crawling like a feline stalking prey as she came up behind a tree. Peeking around the corner was a sight she did not expect.
A woman with dark hair was sitting underneath an ancient oak tree facing the lake. Her eyes quickly scanned back and forth between the water and the paper she held up with her knees. She was wearing a loose flowing robe dyed red Ionian colors which revealed sections of her lithe figure. She had four swords lying down next to her as her hand dipped a paintbrush deftly into a palette and continued brushwork. Her singing was soft, and distinctly Ionian. Riven crouched behind the tree, she thought about simply turning away but she was too curious about the painting. “Just a quick peek,” Riven thought. She made not a sound as she crept up behind the woman who did not seem to notice her. Her hand tightened around her sword out of habit, she was three trees away when the woman called out, “If you wish to speak to me, you only need to come into eyesight. I almost skewered you.”
Riven looked to her right and saw one of the woman’s swords hanging a couple of inches away from her eye, she stumbled back and instinctively rose her blade to defend herself. Instead of the expected attack, the sword flew back to the Ionian and settled itself on the ground. Riven stepped out in the open, eyeing her suspiciously. The Ionian’s eyes fluttered towards Riven and locked themselves. Riven’s amber eyes widened as she found herself almost lost in the emerald pools staring at her. Riven could see the hardened spirit of a warrior, the sternness of a politician and the courage of a warlord. But what startled Riven was the utter sadness she perceived in her eyes.
She laid the paper to one side and stood up, her dainty feet now shuffled into sandals as she stretched her body. She looked at Riven questionably, “Now then, to whom may I be addressing?”
Riven’s body went rigid. This woman was dangerous; she made an oversized sword fly with a mere thought. Who knows what else she could do. She remained quiet as the Ionian gestured with her hand to her swords. They flew up in front of her and assembled into a giant blade. Without missing a beat the woman gestured towards the lake and the swords flew away. “Now if I did want to attack you, you would easily best me. I ask once more, to whom am I speaking to?”
Riven swallowed nervously, she tried thinking of a false name. She was not ready to face the people she had wronged yet, “Nevir. I come from a small fishing village near Zaun.”
The Ionian smiled at her, “Alright, Nevir. I am Irelia Lito.”
Irelia motioned towards Riven, “I do believe you were curious about my hobby. It is nothing special, but it does not hurt to practice.”
Riven stepped over and had her breath taken away. The scene was the lake and the forest in front of them, but the colors and the brushwork made it slightly more abstract and more beautiful. The environments seem to bleed into one another, mixing the colors in strange ways. She almost forgot it was the Fall season, seeing each tree Irelia had carefully painted intermingle with warm colors. Riven almost wanted to touch it but her hand was gently slapped away, “I am afraid you must wait a few days before touching paint. No reason in dirtying your hands.”
Riven nodded and tried her best to stare Irelia down, “Why are you in the League, Irelia?”
Irelia sat down, crossing her legs. Riven followed suit as Irelia spoke up, “My title is the Will of the Blades. I am the Captain of the Ionian guard, protector of our Elders and I serve as Ionia’s symbol of war. I am in the League to further protect it from any more invaders that wish to take over my land.”
Riven winced as Irelia lay back on the tree trunk. “And you, Nevir? What brings you to the League?”
Riven finally let some of her old instincts kick in. Irelia believed her this far, why tell the truth to a potential enemy, “I came to the League because of Zaun’s unethical experiments which caused my village to become inhospitable. I wish to protest against such experiments. I am sorry to say it is nothing quite as grand as yours.”
Irelia frowned, “Do not say such nonsense that is a worthy endeavor. I must ask why in Heaven’s name you own a Noxian blade though.”
Riven did not skip a beat, “A woman washed up on shore, she looked like she was tossed around for days in the sea. I tried saving her, but she died two days later. She imparted to me this blade, this gauntlet and this shoulder plate and said to continue her fight. Then she died.”
Irelia nodded in response, “Despite being broken, looking at the blade I know of only one person who could wield such a monstrous sword. The Sword master Riven, Riven the Executioner, Riven the Scourge. They say he could cleave the skies in twain from the power he and his horrible armor gave him. I thought he was killed when an accident happened with Singed and a few Ionians, a mix up from what I understand. How could some woman be able to obtain this, never you mind his armor?”
Riven gritted her teeth, she was unsure how much Irelia actually knew but she would have to play safe, “I am unaware of who this monster was, but all I know is that a woman gave me these items. How she came across them I do not know.”
Irelia stretched her legs out, looking at Riven intently. The awkward silence rose and finally broke when Riven sighed, “So, Riven is remembered as a horrible butcher? How did that come to be?”
Irelia cocked her head, “Why would it matter? He is dead and done with.”
Riven blurted out, “How else would a man be able to gain such a horrid title if not for their sin? There is Sion, Urgot, Du Coteau… they all gained their infamy from doing such deeds. I am simply…curious how he gained such a title.”
Irelia spoke, her eyes showing caution, “Riven was a master swordsman, he was said to have slaughtered indiscriminately left and right. Women, children, none stood in his path. Entire Ionian forces were wiped out by him alone as he cut swathes through them. He took no prisoners, he shed no mercy. All died equally by him. It was a celebratory day when the people of Ionia heard of his demise.”
Riven did not betray the pangs of pain she was feeling as Irelia continued, “However… I think I know a little more. Most people thought of Riven as a man because of the armor she wore, making her look masculine. I heard that when she attacked Master Yi’s village, she killed Yi’s master in a duel. According to the report, she was challenged by him on the condition that if he fought the Noxian commander, she would leave his village alone. One man to save hundreds, she agreed. The old man could barely move, so she removed all her armor and threw her weapon away to try and even the odds. She slew him and promptly left Yi’s village be. The villagers were warned by her to leave or they would be killed. A day later the village was... well. We do not speak of it. Still, I do not think Riven intended for such consequences, I honestly think there is a little more to her than that. Though it is a shame how Noxus treated her post mortem.”
Riven was taken back, “Treated? What do you mean?”
Irelia whistled, thinking hard, “When we reclaimed our territory back, we heard of ghost stories of Riven still in the ranks and killing Ionian people if they spoke against Noxus. As if she were a shade gliding into people’s houses, they turned up dead and the legend stuck. Noxus is a harsh ruler.”
Riven uttered, “Perhaps they were trying to strengthen them? I mean, perhaps Noxians are not all that bad.”
Irelia stared at Riven with a blank look, “…They invaded my country, slaughtered my people and tried forcing us under the boot of slavery. I can think they are a bit harsh in their approach, especially when it comes to them attempting to enslave a culture of well-known pacifists.”
Riven became downcast, knowing of the sins of her people but she could not help but ask for an Ionian’s opinion. The only other Ionians she spoke to directly were monks, and they forgave anything. Irelia spoke up once more,
“However, that is simply the government. It is hard for soldiers to go against orders, and they were told to fight. I cannot blame them, and I even admire some Noxians. Some Ionian ideals are equivalent to Noxian and Demacian ideals. We are all human after all, it’s hard not to share some ideologies. I could not forgive General Darkwill in this lifetime for conducting such an attack on my people, but soldiers are soldiers. They fight for what they are told to believe in, they are trained to believe what they fight for. When you are born, you are told to think in certain ways, to behave this way and that way so you can fit into the society better. You are told to jump this way, speak that way, fight for this, and kill for that. If you let it consume you, you become a tool. You have no emotion, no ambition, and you simply do exactly what you were told to do your entire life. Few people can break out of that cycle, and even fewer can keep it broken. Do you understand what I mean?”
Riven’s mind was yelling yes, her cool demeanor said otherwise. “And what would be the point of breaking of such a cycle? Even if you could, why would you ever go back into the cycle?”
Irelia laughed and rubbed her chin self-consciously, “Because it’s scary. To go outside the mold and do what you want is something horrifying. My father died when I was young, my mother even younger. My father taught my brother and I everything: my way of thinking, my swordsmanship, my general education, he even taught us cooking. When he died, my brother looked after me for a few years and then he went missing. I have had to live for myself since. When my people were about to surrender I snapped. We learned these martial arts as a way of meditation, but they were also meant to defend, to protect, to honor. When these were failing, we faltered in spirit. What else could a good Ionian do? They had never seen war, they had never seen death on such a mass scale. New ideas like changing a rice recipe petrified people, and now they were faced with war. Instead of fighting onward they wanted to succumb, they tried to fight and failed so they must adhere to the old ways. Fighting did not bring victory, so passivity was our final option. What stupidity. I went against the grain and I was suddenly leading our people into battle. I became the spirit of Ionia; if I faltered we would lose all we fought for.”
Riven stared at Irelia intensely, trying not to show any emotion as she continued, “Then I go and get killed. Almost the first thing I do! I killed a few Noxian soldiers and then a necromancer tried tearing my soul out. I slew him before he could complete the spell but the damage was done. I was on the precipice of death and I veered myself away from it. All I had and have lived for is to fight for Ionia, and I still yearn for more. I have broken the cycle. I love my country but...”
Irelia finally finished and shook her head, she started chuckling, “Please excuse me, I have had that bottled up for some time.”
Irelia looked up and locked her eyes with Riven’s, smiling softly at her, “For some reason, I feel like you understand what I mean. I normally do not open up like that to anyone, but you… there is something about you. I’m not sure what it is.”
Riven remained quiet, she stood up and was about to walk away. Irelia called out, “I did not mean to unsettle you. Forgive me.”
Riven sighed, looking at Irelia, “I…it’s alright. I... I just… It’s just that I cannot express myself like you can.”
Riven took a step away when Irelia’s hand stopped her. “You are the first person I told this to. I’m not sure why, but I feel with you that I can express myself a bit more. I hope you will be able to do the same. Promise me we will talk again. You look like you have seen things. You seem to have regrets. I am willing to listen to them, and even if you do not wish to speak of them I am willing to keep you company at the very least. Know that you have one comrade in the League.”
Riven’s shoulders quaked. She had words flooding through her mind but instead mustered up a simple statement, “Thank you.”
Riven moved back towards the woods, she was visibly shaken. As her figure fleeted from sight Irelia whispered her farewell, “May we meet again, Riven. The first exile of Noxus.”
I must say, I (almost) always enjoy reading stories about Riven, and this is no exception.
I'd offer some constructive criticism, but there isn't much to say. Just that the first three or four paragraphs were a little intangible. It was hard to keep track of settings.
That and it's actually 'Noxus', not 'Noxia'.
Apart from that, exceptional work. The way you handle Riven's personality, especially when she converses with Irelia, is very well done. Much different from how I've interpreted it, but still believable from my viewpoint. I'd like to see more.
I'd also like to say you've managed to share an idea that I had for my story as well. I don't want to say anything specific, as it might ruin the moment for when I get around to it, but I just wanted to mention it anyway. It made me laugh. :P
I'm glad that those who have read the story are enjoying it so far. This next chapter I feel is kind of strange, but I hope it doesn't break the flow completely. I'm trying to put even more set up for the future conflicts. I am going to enjoy writing the third chapter a lot more, since it will be one of the last set ups for the conflicts and the actual delving into the juicy stuff. P.S. Any suggestions to help the flow or the message and the story will be taken into consideration!
And I read your story Cerubois, I like your writing style! I'll be sure to check on the story when I can!
***Based on suggestions, I'm breaking up some of the paragraphs. I'll do more editing when I have the time to try and make it not so wall of text-y without detracting from the story***
Edited: I went ahead and fixed a bunch of the semi-colons in this chapter as well, also did some long needed fixing of some dialogue in Wukong's bit and changed a bit of the word choice with Udyr's fight (not detracting from it). I also uncensored d.amn just because I think that word fits best in this scenario
She was told she would have to wait another two days to be allowed to be in League matches. Summoners by then would be able to handle her psyche and soul. It was somewhat comforting, all things considered. She was not in fighting form yet. Riven spun her blade uneasily, she was still unsettled by her meeting a few days ago. That Ionian woman had shocked her with her friendliness, and with her apparent ignorance. Riven was well-known during the Ionian war, would people really not know who she is? Was her appearance that well-guarded? And more importantly, how much longer would Riven be able to feign her identity?
Riven stared at the dying fire before her, the remnants of her lunch charcoaled in the pit. She could not sleep indoors despite the League’s insisting. They told her it was dangerous in the forests, other champions liked to hunt in the woods. It didn’t matter to her, if she stayed in the Noxian quarters she would have to face one too many familiar face. She chuckled to herself. She didn’t know what was worse: Confronting those who she wronged or her countrymen.
Little did she know was that answer would have to wait. Riven shot straight up, she could hear branches break. One swipe of her sword completely doused her fire and she fled into the woods. A blood curdling howl followed her. One wolf? Strange, but manageable. Riven spun on her heels and readied her blade, she has dealt with wolves before. Simply show your dominance and they would leave you be. Her eyes widened as a blue, furry beast leapt straight at her, claws outstretched. She fell backwards and caught the monster with her feet, vaulting it over her with one fluid movement. She rolled back to standing and readied her blade once more. The creature disappeared. Her feet shifted carefully as she strained her ears to try and hear him.
A twig snapped, she dropped her sword, spun and grabbed at the creature’s open jaws. It was so close to her that his tongue licked her neck, sending shudders down her spine. She twisted the beast down to the floor, holding him in place. The beast raked her arms with sharpened gauntlets, making her release it. It leapt back to its feet, snarling at her as it slowly paced around her. Riven gripped her sword tighter, the blood flowing from her arms made her hand slick. She noticed her arms were tingling, making her grip on her sword even harder. The beast stopped suddenly, sniffing the air. It dropped its’ vicious demeanor for a moment, and tackled her to the ground. Her sword arm was pinned down as the beast continued smelling her. Her free hand was ready to gouge its eyes out when it cocked its head, “…Riven?”
Her eyes widened. She knew that voice. She booted him off of her, brushing herself off, “N-no. You must be mistaken. Riven is dead.”
The beast snarled at her, “Your scent…familiar... You are not the monkey?”
Riven nodded, the beast howled angrily, “D.amn it! There goes lunch!”
It turned on her, bringing itself closer to her. “Then who are you? Are you her?”
Riven glanced at her arms, the beast seemed to be licking its lips at the scent of her blood. She would have to be careful, “I will not give my name until you give me yours, strange beast.”
“Warwick.” The wolfman stated bluntly, his eyes shining now with viciousness. “Now who are you? Your scent...Your sword…Old memories…Singed failed. The little ****.”
Riven narrowed her eyes, “You are wrong. I am not who you think I am.”
Riven’s blood still flowed down her arms, she let it flow into her palm as she gathered a small pool of it. Warwick hunched over to her, “No…I’m sure…I know…What was your name…”
He smelled the air, his mouth curling into a vicious grin, “…Blood.”
He suddenly shot straight up and howled maniacally, “Blood! Ah ha ha! Blood!”
He leapt at her once more. She threw the crimson that had pooled in her hand into his eyes. Warwick blinked momentarily in response. He slashed left and right, her blood now blinding him. Riven looked around, she had to figure a way to pacify him. That answer, would come crashing in front of her as a fist barrelled forward and sent Warwick flying through the air. Warwick smashed against a tree harshly. He dragged himself back to his feet as a large, hairy man loomed over him. “Do not taint our forest, cursed one.”
Warwick snarled at the man who cuffed the wolf down to the ground with a thunder clapping slap. The hairy man glanced at Riven, “We have been looking for you.”
Warwick sprung back to his feet and launched himself at the man. Warwick bit deep into his forearm, his claws raking the man’s body as he made no response to the attack. Raising his freed hand, he struck Warwick squarely on his head, knocking him out. He stared at his bleeding arm, and flexed it as hard as he could. The flow surprisingly stopped. Riven examined the man, he wore a strange black gi with animal furs decorating his being. His large beard covered most of his face. Riven suddenly realized who this man was, the legendary beast man of Ionia, Udyr. He repeated himself, “We have been looking for you.”
Riven stood her ground, her sword readied. He continued, “You are wounded. Are you alright?”
Riven glanced at her arms, their bleeding had stopped but they still ached. She shrugged her shoulders, “What do you want?”
Udyr cracked his knuckles, “We want to know why you are in our woods, little girl.”
Riven shot him a questioning look, “You…you don’t know who I am?”
Udyr remained deadpan, “I do. What that means, is yet to be determined.”
Riven was about to question him more when Udyr disappeared from sight. She ducked instinctively and a fist fired above her, shattering the trunk of a nearby tree. Udyr chuckled as Riven rolled away from him, “Good. Now we fight.”
Riven held her hand up, “Wait, no. Champions are not allowed to attack one another outside a sanctioned match, right?”
She barely dodged another strike as Udyr responded smugly, “Did not stop Warwick. Let them try to stop us. We need a challenge.”
Riven drew her sword and was ready to strike him, but guilt shot through her. She froze for only a moment, which was all the time Udyr needed as his strike hit true, rocketing her off her feet. She landed harshly and rolled back to her feet, grabbing at her chest in agony as Udyr slowly walked over. “You hesitated. Why?”
Riven breathed in and out, she needed a reason, “B-because I don’t want to fight.”
Udyr roared in laughter, “Then why are you here? The League is only meant to kill!”
Riven clenched her jaw, flustered at the man. Udyr continued, “You are here because you want to fight! You hesitated because you showed guilt! Do not lie to us!”
Udyr’s body became wreathed in fire, “We will burn this entire forest down if you do not strike back. Fight us!”
Riven exhaled sharply, got to her feet and readied her blade. Udyr rushed forward, she could read it this time. She feinted with a swipe upwards. Udyr caught her blade and struck downwards in an attempt to cave her skull in. The fire licked Riven’s face as she twisted away from it, and with all her might punched Udyr in the solar plex. Udyr’s body lifted off the ground from the force of the punch. Riven pushed herself away from him and readied herself once more. Instead of the expected retaliation, she heard something strange. Laughter. Udyr was laughing as the flames died down. He pointed at her, “Good. You are strong. We look forward to fighting you.”
Riven was shocked, Udyr strode forward and clasped her shoulder. He dragged her away as he led her twisting through the forest. Despite her best attempts, she could not break free of the man’s vice grip. “Stop struggling. You will dislocate your shoulder.”
Riven settled down and complied with Udyr as he led her through the forest. They eventually came to a clearing, randomly in the middle of the forest. Udyr stopped here, “Do you wish to live in these forests?”
Riven glanced at his face, trying to read what he meant. He spoke up, “You were in Warwick’s territory. You cannot trespass on his land unless you are ready to fight. His territory stretches the entire Southern part of the forest. This is our territory. The lake is half a mile walk from westward, the main path is a little further south westwards. These forests are owned by the League. They are meant to house those who find nature more hospitable. You may stake your claim here.”
Udyr turned around and started to walk away from Riven, she could not let it lie like this. “Why are you doing this? Why did you fight me?”
Udyr turned and pointed at her, “We were asked to, Nevir. And as for why we fought, did you want to?”
Riven shook her head, he simply stated in response, “That is why.”
He disappeared from sight, Riven looked around her and realized this was an old camping spot. It was relatively well hidden from sight, and it provided protection against the autumn winds. She looked over to a decaying tree stump, it was half pulled from the ground. With a little exertion she managed to pull the rest of it out, and centered it near the middle. This was a better seat than the last log provided she mused to herself. It was then she realized her arms were still bloodied, so she headed towards the lake.
Following Udyr’s vague direction she eventually reached the lake. Looking around carefully for anyone nearby, she made her way to the water’s edge. A quick wash of her forearms revealed the deep scratches from Warwick. She fondled the satchel hanging off her waist, carefully avoiding the bundles of papers within, and grabbed some bandages. She clumsily wrapped her arms, smirking at the thought of her old ally being a shaggy beast now, “Serves him right.” She sat there for what seemed like hours, lost in thought. The tide’s flow eventually splashed itself on Riven’s sandals, causing her to yelp in surprise. The water was much colder now.
She stood up, stretched her body, turned around and saw from the corner of her eye a monkey tail pull up and away. Riven’s stomach growled, She eased for her sword carefully, and slowly made her way towards the twitching tail. Why is there a monkey in this region of the world? She was about to ignore it when a rock sailed and hit her head. The chittering in her ears sounded like the monkey was taunting her. She turned to face it, its’ tail swinging back and forth. She clutched her forehead, moving her hand into her line of sight to see specks of blood on her palm. That must have been why Warwick was so adamant about catching the monkey. Annoying little bugger. Another rock was thrown at her from a completely different direction, but this time she caught it and threw it back with ease. The sound of rock hitting bone echoed through the forest, and the screech of pain soon followed, which was then promptly followed by the sound of cracking branches.
Riven turned back to face the lake, she was relaxed. She reclined into the sand, and fell into thoughts. She reached into a satchel she had been carrying this entire time and withdrew papers from it. She figured she would have to look at the list eventually. It was a list of every champion inducted into the League so far, she started shuffling through the papers and squinted to read the text. Whoever wrote these had absurdly small handwriting. She had finished the Demacian some of the non-human champions when she flipped over to the list of Ionian champions. Her eyes widened, her hands started to tremble as familiar names came popping out at her.
Where they were born, where they lived, where they trained, where they fought, she recognized almost every region. Many of these regions were those that she herself was in charge with. Only one name stilled her hands for a moment, Lee Sin. She cocked her head; she did not know he was in the League. She would have to speak with him. Her stomach was flip-flopping as she pulled out Irelia’s file finally. Save the worst for last. She read it slowly and carefully, her fears confirmed. She threw the papers on the ground and started coughing violently. Memories started to race through her mind. No, no, no, not again. Not here, not now. “Are you alright?”
Riven looked up, completely stunned. It was Irelia, except she was decorated in full Ionian ceremonial armor. The Mantle of Decorum hung behind her head, marking her as a capable warrior and the highest honor any Ionian could receive. Riven knew she was dangerous before, but this exceeded her expectations. Riven spoke up shakily, “Y-yes, I just…had a coughing fit.”
Irelia helped Riven to her feet, “I asked Udyr to check upon you. Did he harm you?”
Riven looked at her arms and hid them behind her back stupidly. Why was she hiding her wounds? “No, it was Warwick. I am fine.”
Irelia frowned, pulling Riven’s arms out from behind. “Warwick tends to coat his claws with a paralyzing poison when he hunts. It is mild and can cause nausea, but you must let it pass. He constantly hunts in those woods, it was a miracle you didn’t meet him sooner.”
Irelia examined Riven’s bandages, her frown did not disappear. Without a word she unwrapped Riven’s arms, and before she could protest they were already rewrapped comfortably and expertly. She then proceeded to wipe Riven’s forehead off with a damp cloth, cleaning the blood. Irelia shot her a smirk, “You need to learn how to take care of yourself better. It’s not easy to be alone.”
Irelia stood up and stretched her legs and proceeded to walk towards the spilled papers. She knelt down and gathered them up in a neat pile, placing them back in the satchel. Riven’s thoughts were racing, ‘Why is she being so nice to me? Why send Udyr? Why help me? Why?’ Riven called out to Irelia, “Wait!”
Irelia stood up and turned to face Riven slowly, locking their eyes once more. Riven could see how most would be intimidated by this young woman. The sword flourishes, as though painting with blood. That was from a Noxian field report on her, the rest of the report retold how she tore any Noxian in her path like cattle to the slaughter. Riven spoke up, “How…how did you know where to find me?”
Irelia chuckled, pointing to the lake, “Despite what you may think, I paid attention when we spoke. Where else would I expect a fisherwoman to be?”
“Then why did you come looking for me?”
Riven anxiously waited for a response, Irelia shrugged her shoulders, “You have been living outside of the Institute for almost a week now. I am allowed to be worried about comrades, no?”
Riven stepped forward, her speech almost shrill now, “How can you call me that so easily?! You don’t know me and I don’t know you!”
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Riven spoke out of emotion, she had just gone ahead and screwed things up. She was mentally berating herself when she heard Irelia’s response, “That is true. Yet I feel as if I can. Is that alright?”
Riven ran her hand across her forehead, “Y-yes, I …I’m sorry for my... Thank you for your help.”
Irelia bowed towards Riven, “Hopefully I’ll see you in your first match. It’s easier when you see a familiar face. Farewell for now.”
Riven’s face lost all color, two days. She bowed to Irelia in response, “Irelia, thank you for everything. Goodbye.”
As soon as Irelia’s figure disappeared Riven collapsed to her knees. Two days, that was when her identity would be revealed and everything would be ruined. She got back to her feet and made her way to her satchel. With one swift swipe she grabbed it and attempted to lift it. It was heavier now. She laid it back on the ground and opened it.
Her eyes widened, tears trickled down her face. It was a box with a note attached to it, the smell of meat and rice permeated from within. She read the note carefully, ‘Keep your strength up. Do not make me worry.” –Irelia. Memories suddenly raced through Riven’s mind: blood everywhere, screams of anguish, pleads for mercy, screams of pain, limbs flying, heads rolling. She shook her head clear, and stared at the note. She could not stop the tears from flowing. Even if it only lasted a week, no matter her sins, she at least had found a comrade for the time being.
Hours later, in darkest pitch of night a monkey swung from tree to tree as quickly as he could. The monkey could see the fire from a fair distance, he made his way towards it. A man wearing a multi-lensed pair of goggles sat, meditating. He spoke out loud, “Did you have your fun today, apprentice?”
The monkey landed in front of him, whirling a staff around him. “Yes Master. Warwick is great for training, but then there was that woman who interrupted.”
The man made no motion, “Oh? What woman?”
The monkey chittered excitedly, “I made Warwick chase me for an hour straight, he couldn’t catch me the dumb lug. When I was leading him on I saw a woman sitting around. Smack in the middle of nowhere in the woods. I thought it had to be the newbie. Anyhoo, she was looking all bored like so I thought, ‘hey, why not introduce the two.’”
The man the monkey called Master shot him a glance, “That was rude of you, Wukong. You could have harmed her.”
The monkey continued to chitter, “Don’t worry sir, she bested him! He seemed stunned though, like he recognized her. Called her Liven or somethin’.”
The man shot straight up, his sword drawn. Wukong was taken aback by the raging aura encircling his master. “What did she look like?”
Wukong scratched his chin excitedly, “Well, she was human, so kinda dumb lookin’. I guess she’d look good if she had any hair on her arms. Hm, she had white hair…”
A sigh of relief was heard when Wukong snapped his fingers, “And…a scar on her cheek! Yes, that’s right! On her left cheekbone. She was also kinda muscular. Most muscular human female I’ve seen. Hm…She also had a big shoulder pad; she wore a glove on her right hand with some funny symbols and her sword…”
“Was about seven feet in length, a foot wide at the base and a foot and a half at the tip? Lined with runes?” The Master’s aura strengthened.
Wukong shook his head, “No no no, her sword was broken. I’d say it was about my forearm in width at the base, and less than my arm in length. It’s got a weird fork in it now and jagged edges. It had similar symbols to those on the glove too .”
The Master paced back and forth, “Is that all? Maybe I am wrong…”
Wukong shook his head, trying to think harder. “Hrm, what else... what else...She was very skilled. Y’see, I was kind of upset she stopped my fun so I caught her when she was relaxing, and threw a rock at her. Caught her that time. Then when I threw the second, she caught it and knocked me out for a bit. If only I remembered the name…it was definitely an R sound…River, Raven, Regis…I think I’m still woozy, definitely not Regis…”
Wukong handed his Master the rock, it was no more than half the size of a coin. To knock out a human would be a tell of strength with such a pebble, but to knock out Wukong with a well-aimed rock would be almost superhuman. Wukong seemed to be in deep contemplation when he snapped his fingers once more, “Riven! That’s what he called her!”
A scream of anger echoed through the forest as the Master sliced at the fire before him, causing it to split apart. Wukong leapt out of the way, surprised to see his master so angry. “She was supposed to be dead! D.amn her!”
He sheathed his sword, his aura still ignited, “Come apprentice. You will see what it means to avenge your master’s death and what it means to be a Wuju master.”
The man strode into the swallowing black night. For the first time in his life, Wukong was frightened.
No prob. I don't...mind...it...much...
Very masterfully written. It's a great story. But parts of it imbue the power of wall-o-text into them. Be careful to not make any paragraph too long. It hurts people's eyes, and tends to lead to them skipping over some parts of the story. Also, no romance! Yay. I'm happy, because there isn't an ounce of romance.
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