Pure pristine sunbeams spilled through the high regal windows of Demacia’s royal court and pooled across the marble tiles in puddles of light, melting the marbles chill away as night gave way to morning. It was early for an audience and Garen pondered the Kings cryptic orders to be prepped to move out at first light but the Might of Demacia did not question orders, though he often meditated upon their significance. The young King Jarven Lightshield III was enthroned upon his seat of unyielding cut white stone. He was dressed in the blue royal coat of his kingdoms monarchy and bore the golden crown of Demacia with all the dignity befitting a ruler. Garen found himself nodding approvingly as he approached the throne and took the knee before his liege. Jarven had indeed grown to satisfy everything demanded of his fathers legacy. Before his reign ended, Vanguard forbid, the young boy who had once practiced at swordplay alongside Garen might even come to surpass his ancestry. Jarven ruled with a wisdom and caution that had been unmatched in his forbears and while Garen himself found such political cunning alien he could admire it in his ruler.
“Hail, Garen of the Dauntless Vanguard, and rise. We are honored by your presence.”
“As you will my liege, and may that will be just.” Garen rose. For many it might seem strange to trade such honorifics with a man you had once traded bruises with in the courtyards but Garen did not seem to notice. Fealty and formality, as his father had once told him, were every honorable mans burden to bear.
“In earnest Garen, thank you for coming,” began the King. “Demacia has every need of you on the Fields of Justice and though we are your King it was not lightly that we summoned you. However, we have determined, and Xin Zhao agrees, that you are the only one whom we should rely on in this matter.”
“You do me a great honor my liege,” said Garen, who felt truly pleased by his friends words. “I am familiar with Xin Zhao, loyally has he served your father with his courage and his counsel as his seneschal.”
“And loyally does he serve still on the Fields alongside you. But we must speak on this anon. The importance of your work for Demacia and indeed for all of Valoran must not be overlooked.” The hall seemed to echo with these words for a moment, before being swallowed up by the swiftly spreading sunbeams.
“What is my lieges will?” Asked Garen. As blunt and straightforward a question as may ever be broached to royalty. In response the young King straightened in his throne. He looked tired, Garen noticed; resolute as ever, but utterly exhausted by something. Then the King began:
“We live in a world that has been radically altered by the work of the College of Magic, we live in a world where peace, true lasting peace, though maybe still a dream is not so evanescent as once it was! An enlightened world, where wars are won by the valor of few, strong, courageous individuals and where the people of Valoran need not suffer such atrocities as they have suffered in the past.” Jarven spoke with verve, and a passion born of hope for this new golden era, his handsome face animated by his idealistic vision. But then his face fell, his eyes seemed to sink to the tile floor, and grimly, quietly, he whispered to himself.
“But now I fear that it may be all too late.”
Just wrote this bit after reading a neat Swain fanfic. (Seriously; if you're on this board read "Ravens Flight") I don't write fanfic and i've never published any of the fanfics I have written but I thought to myself. Swain is really cool guy. I want to write a fanfic with Swain in it. But I didn't want it to be about him. Garen is kind of as I see it the main character of League of Legends (if you consider it to even have one) so I figured while the story may not really be centered about him he makes as good a starting point as any. Tell me what you think of it and if you like it I might just write some more.
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