Author's Note: This is a complete short story. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. Although I've done some research before writing this piece, I understand there may be discrepancies with canonical lore, which I apologize for in advance and will gladly amend if someone points them out. I've taken liberty with some of my interpretations, of course, and will likely retain them. I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I had writing it.
Note: Due to the 3000 character constraint, the entire story couldn't be pasted into one post, so please scroll down and read the remainder of the story in the 4th post in this page. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Hunter's Moon continued...
Ezreal made his way towards the satchel as he watched all this with curiosity. His grip tightened around the tome before he placed it safely inside his bag. Slinging the bag across his shoulders he approached Shauna, who was still catching her breath.
“The poison could have killed you,” she said, her voice bitter.
Ezreal rolled his eyes, exasperated. “You’re welcome.”
Shauna turned and gazed at Ezreal, her eyes incredulous.
“Boys,” she mumbled.
“Excuse me? I just totally blew that guy up. All you did was giving your condemned black arts speech. A little appreciation would be nice.”
Shauna rose to her feet, and slung the crossbow onto her back, adjusting the strap in front of her.
“Delusional,” she began walking away. “Next time someone gives you an antidote, take it like a man and lie still.”
Ezreal threw his hands into the air. “Thanks for the advice. It was definitely my fault I didn’t trust a stranger to be holding on to the precise antidote to a mysterious poisonous gas wafting from the ****ed crypt of an ancient sorcerer.”
Shauna stopped on her tracks, turned, and smiled. Ezreal reasoned that she did not smile enough, because it looked strange and forced on her countenance.
“You couldn’t possibly know what antidote to give me,” Ezreal went on. “Could you?” That last bit was less certain.
Shauna’s smile devolved into a frown as she cocked her head to the side. She drew a bolt from her belt and notched it on the small crossbow at the back of her hand. She aimed ahead.
“Whoa whoa, I didn’t mean to offend you. Easy now.” Ezreal threw his hands up, palms facing Shauna.
“Move aside,” she yelled. “Now.”
Ezreal did as she asked, following her gaze. He was not prepared for this. Vladimir’s corpse was melting away, but it wasn’t natural. A dark puddle began gathering beneath him, widening as more and more of his body transformed into what looked like a pool of fresh blood.
For an instant, the hemomancer’s eyes opened, shining in the moonlight like twin pearls. His deformed lips curled into the most unnerving smirk before his entire body turned into liquid blood, pooling on the spot beneath the silver bolt pinned against the tree.
Shauna fired a bolt at the ground. Nothing happened. The entire pool seemed to move. Ezreal had no time to think. He began firing bolts of energy at the abomination, but nothing happened. The sanguine pool simply cascaded away, unfazed.
It didn’t take Ezreal and Shauna long to realize what Vladimir was doing. The pool of blood was advancing towards the river by the crypt.
Shauna reloaded her small crossbow as fast as she could and fired her remaining bolts at what remained of Vladimir, following it, while Ezreal let loose mystic shots, but their efforts were in vain. Eventually, the blood pool seeped into the river, mingling with the water and washing away.
“No,” Shauna screamed into the night. “I had condemned you, Vladimir. I had you.” She dropped to her knees, slamming her fist on the ground, nostrils flaring.
Ezreal approached her and tentatively laid a hand on her shoulder. Shauna shoved it away.
“I had you, monster. I had you.”
The prodigal explorer did not really know how to console her, so he simply stood there.
After several awkward minutes, the night hunter took a deep breath and rose to her feet.
“Shauna Vayne,” she said, extending a hand, her face stoic, devoid of the emotions pouring even a few moments ago.
“Ezreal.” He took her hand and shook it.
“What you did back there, Ezreal, was rather impressive.”
“Thank you, Shauna,” he nodded, smiling. “You weren’t too shabby yourself.”
This time, Shauna Vayne laughed, and she looked quite beautiful in the moon light when she did so. She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through Ezreal’s hair, ruffling it.
“Good luck on your journeys kid,” she said as she walked away into the shadows.
Ezreal smiled and touched his hair. As Shauna disappeared into the trees, he remembered the true nature of his journey. Fumbling, he withdrew Morello’s tome from his bag and for the first time was ready to appreciate it. The black cover was rather dull. Not even leather. He opened it and gasped.
The pages were blank. And they did not look old at all. In fact, he was sure that there weren’t even pages of this quality back in those days.
“No, no, no,” he muttered again, scratching his hair. He dropped the tome on the ground and turned its pages hastily. There had to be something. Some magical word to reveal the contents perhaps?
Ezreal’s eyes rested on the only page with writing on it. In pretty flowing letters were written:
“You did not really think I would let Morello’s Evil Tome fall into anyone’s hands, did you? – SV”
Shaking his head, Ezreal looked up and laughed. The hunter’s moon, she called it.
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Thanks for the comments and upvotes fellow summoners.
I'll be honest. I didn't read through the whole thing, as I'm not really a fan of Ezreal.
But from what I saw, your description writing is excellent. And you seem to have a good idea of when to break the flow with a quote or thought to make it more exciting. I'd like to see more.
Hey all, I had totally forgotten about this piece as I got busy with school. But I have finally gone back to it, and here's the finished product. Let me know how you like it. I have plans of writing a short story of similar length on the origins of Pulsefire Ezreal.
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