[Complete] Regrets | Azir & Xerath
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"Azir, the boy destined to chase the sun." - Xerath
Goal :
To explore the backstory of Xerath and Azir's relationship, in particular the time when they were human to the time they Ascended, because before they became God-like beings, they were only two boys with a promise too late to keep.
Focus:
- Emotions in the story is focus. Portrayal of not the moment of betrayal, but the depth and despair of a misunderstanding
Canon materials to reference to (In one place for easy access) :
Introduction :
Hi, I'm Latiwings but I usually go by Lati. I've played League and have stopped, but I am still following the scene, lore and all. As a writer I hope to bring justice to the character stories. I might post only sparse updates however, because I'm currently participating NanoWrimo. Wishing everyone the best of luck!
"You are but my shadow, Xerath." - Azir
Changelog :
17/11/17 - Wrote Intro Post
17/01/18 - Second Post with WIP and notes. I actually played with the idea for the last two months, just nothing concrete to write down until today.
29/01/18 - Finished the story but need to trim down. Need to buck up in the next two days!
30/01/18 Chose to declare this completed one day early so I don't miss the deadline by accident. It was fun!
Replies
+ Mostly sectioning, adjusting a layout in my head for the final narrative. Style as well as presentation can play a useful impact in delivering emotions.
+ Interesting note/self reminder on the grammar that Xerath helped Azir on : Ancient Egyptian had used their Hieroglyphics in an alphabet way and an Ideogram way. I supposed that without proper documentation, an ancient text ideogram and alphabet can be fairly easy to confuse, although for an apprentice like Xerath who had went through many ancient tests with his master, he would have the eye to spot it out.
Current Word Count : 388
WIP Story :
Xerath breathed.
It wasn't literal; Xerath hadn't needed to breath for the longest time but this, this moment when the tomb smashed open and he was once again in the living world, Xerath felt like he could breath.
Magic burned inside of him. He could feel the greatness of his power, the way he will retake this Earth, claimed this world for his own. A hitched in his thoughts, something shifted in the sands and he knew it was Azir, that burst to life . He wasn't the only one to return.
Azir.
At that name his rage simmered, bubbling over a certain point. Blinding hot anger, coupled with the tightness of frustration, for how dare Azir came back! How dare he walk this earth once more, after being so foolish, so selfish! How dare he!
Xerath's eyes glowed. His anger burned, hot and bright. He will never forgive Azir. He will hunt him down, hunt him in this rage, this fury, this -
==
.
==
"...you're not getting it because it's meant to be a symbol, not an alphabet, my Lord."
He tried not to flinch when the Prince's eyes snapped at him, opened wide. For what seemed like the longest pause, it was only silence. Then, the Prince quickly looked back at the text he had been puzzling over for a good time, eyes darting.
He held his breath. This is how I will die, he thought mournfully, too curious for my own good.
"You're right," the Prince said suddenly, "That made so much sense now." His Highness looked back at him and he can't help but squirm, afraid of the consequences for speaking out of turn.
Instead, the Prince laughed.
"Come here," His Highness said, the largest of smiles on his lips, "And help me with this, would you? Then perhaps, I could finally please Father."
His head spun and his heart hammered as he took tentative steps to the young Prince. It felt like he was walking towards his executioner, yet all the Prince did was offered him the kindest of smiles, and a place at his study table. It was almost an impossible moment.
It was also how they have met, and how they became friends. Looking back at that day, that very moment, something warm bubbled in his chest. There's nothing in that day he would -
==
.
==
- This section for a happy moment (Xerath being convinced to continue his studies, warm support)
- Next : Conflict (But that's not what you said!)
- Rage/ Bitterness (At last, the sun -! )
- Conclusion (And this is where we are now)
+ Direct copy paste from the wiki, capturing some paragraphs that highlighted the greatest of the emotions that I which to hold on to. This is for ref.
Azir was struggling to read a difficult passage in an ancient text, and, despite knowing that to talk to royalty was to invite death, the boy paused to help the young prince with its complex grammar. In that moment, a tentative friendship was established, and over the coming months that friendship only grew stronger.
Though slaves were forbidden names, Azir gave one to the boy. He named him Xerath, which means ‘one who shares,’ though that name was only ever spoken between the two boys.
==
As a slave, Xerath could expect no reward for his deed, but Azir promised that one day they would be as brothers.
==
This Azir did, and in return the young heir elevated Xerath, insisting he continue his education. Both youths excelled, and Xerath proved to be an exceptionally gifted pupil, one who took to the pursuit of knowledge with gusto.
==
By now, Xerath’s desire to escape his roots as a slave had become a burning ambition to achieve power of his own, though he justified every murderous act by telling himself he was doing it to keep his friend alive.
==
Azir was crowned emperor of Shurima with Xerath at his side, the boy who had once been a nameless slave. Xerath had long dreamed of this moment, and expected Azir to end slavery in Shurima before finally naming him brother. Azir did none of these things, continuing to expand his empire’s borders and deflecting Xerath’s overtures regarding the end of slavery. To Xerath, this was further proof of Shurima’s moral bankruptcy, and he raged at Azir’s breaking of his promise. Azir’s face was thunderous as he reminded Xerath that he was a slave and should remember his place. Something once noble died in Xerath that day, but he bowed in supplication, outwardly accepting Azir’s decision. As Azir continued his campaigns of conquest, Xerath remained at his side, but his every action was carefully designed to increase his influence over a realm he now planned to take for himself. To steal an empire was no small thing, and Xerath knew he needed more power.
==
Azir stood beneath the sun disc and in the final moment before the priests began the ritual, events took a turn Xerath had not anticipated. The emperor turned to Xerath and told him that he was now a free man. He and all Shurima’s slaves were now released from their bonds of servitude. He embraced Xerath before naming him his eternal brother. Xerath was stunned.
. Too many pieces were in motion and Xerath had already sacrificed too much to turn back now – no matter how much that part of him wanted to.
==
Azir
Where did such hate come from? Azir had never been aware of it.
"Xerath", he said, his voice tinged with rage. "Your crimes will not go unpunished."
==
Too late, friend. Too late, brother. Far too late for us all.
+ Completed for now. Will reread again and probably reformat certain areas before submitting my final work.
Current Word Count : 1172 (need to trim down some parts)
Story :
Xerath breathed.
It wasn't literal; Xerath hadn't needed to breath for the longest time but this, this moment when the tomb had smashed open and he was once again in the living world, Xerath felt like he could breath.
Magic burned from inside of him. He could feel the greatness of his power, the way he will retake this Earth, claimed this world for his own. A hitched in his thoughts, something shifted in the sands and he knew it was Azir that burst to life. He wasn't the only one to return from the past.
Azir.
At that name his rage simmered, bubbling over the edge. Blinding hot anger, coupled with the tightness of frustration, for how dare Azir came back! How dare he walk this earth once more, after being so foolish, so selfish! How dare he!
Xerath's eyes glowed. His anger burned, hot and bright.
He will never forgive Azir.
He will hunt him down, hunt him in this rage, this fury, this -
==
.
==
"...you're not getting it because it's meant to be a symbol, not an alphabet, my Lord."
He tried not to flinch when the Prince's eyes snapped at him, opened wide. For what seemed like the longest pause, it was only silence. Then, the Prince quickly looked back at the text he had been puzzling over for a good time, eyes darting.
He held his breath. This is how I will die, he thought mournfully, too nosy for my own good.
"You're right," the Prince said suddenly, "That made so much sense now." His Highness looked back at him and he can't help but squirm, afraid of the consequences for speaking out of turn.
Instead, the Prince laughed.
"Come here," His Highness said, the largest of smiles on his lips, "And help me with this, would you? Then perhaps, I could finally please Father."
His head spun and his heart hammered as he took tentative steps to the young Prince. It felt like he was walking towards his executioner, yet all the Prince did was offered him the kindest of smiles, and a place at his study table. It was an almost impossible moment.
It was also how they have met, and how they became friends. Looking back at that day, that very moment, something warm bubbled in his chest. There's nothing in that day that he would -
==
.
==
"Say yes," the Prince hissed, "It's a good opportunity!"
He knew his own eyes were wide, both in terror and in surprise. "That's too much, my Prince," he started, immediately swallowing. An opportunity to study among the greatest scholars with his Prince? It was too much, especially for a mere servant like him. "It's inappropriate."
"That's not true," the Prince's eyes narrowed at him. "And I told you to call me Azir. Especially when we're alone, like now."
Too many privileges. The Prince had been nothing but generous to him.
"You are brilliant, Xerath," the Prince insisted, "You have the mind of a genius, blessed by the gods themselves. You'll be great someday, and if I can provide that to you, my friend, I would willingly do so."
The name that the Prince had bestowed to him, along with the title of a friend lit a kind of warmth in his chest. He had thought this was the greatest honor he could have had, a name and a sense of belonging, but the Prince continued to surprise him everyday.
Looking at Azir then, as brilliant as the sun reflecting in his eyes, a fire lit within his heart. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Alright, my Prince."
One day, he swore inwardly fiercely, I will make Prince Azir king.
This brilliant Prince, this amazing person. There was no -
==
.
==
"You promised!"
For the first time in a long time, Prince- no, King Azir did not look as brilliant as he always did. No, if anything his face was blank, a contrast to what he was feeling at this very moment.
Disbelief. Betrayal.
"You said you would end slavery," the words were spilling out of his mouth, "You promised me this!" There was a slight screech at the end of his voice, red clouding the edge of his vision.
He had expected treachery, betrayal. It was customary in their way of living.
But never from his beloved Prince.
Azir's face was dark, the greatest desert storms in his eyes. "Know your place, slave."
The word slapped him, punched him in his gut, leaving him breathless. Azir left the room without a word and he could feel tears blurring the corner of his eyes.
Yet.
The salty tears did nothing to wash the intense red clouding his mind. His heart thundered in his ears, the beginning of a dark plan whispering somewhere from the shadows. If Azir wouldn't fulfill his dream, he would just have to do it on his own. He would seize this Empire and rebuild it in the glory of his own image.
Quietly, in a small corner of his heart, a small feeling clawed at him, ripping his feeling into shreds with -
==
.
==
This was how the world ends.
Like so very long ago, disbelief gripped him. King Azir stood, glorious with the sun in his hair, the brilliant light in his eyes. He stood like a god even though he wasn't one yet (will never be) and made the announcement to the entire Empire.
No more slaves. Everyone was free.
"Xerath," and that was the first time Azir had ever called him by his name in public. There was that warm smile on his face, the smile he remembered form childhood. "I name you, my most loyal friend, my eternal brother."
Sharp tears sprung to the corner of his eyes. He was frozen to the core, too many emotions too feel, too much to understand. His voice was nothing but silence, eyes wide, disbelief.
Azir fulfilled his promise.
Too late, something malicious whispered in him. It was the truth.
The sunlight destroyed the Empire, destroyed his body as he pushedthrewprotected Azir, destroyed everything and left nothing but -
==
.
==
Azir breathed.
There was nothing left of Shurima, a broken Empire wasted by a broken bond. Sunlight glinted off his golden armor, what once destroyed him now only whispered heat into his veins.
Xerath.
Azir was furious.
He had fulfilled all his promises, freed all the slaves, named him Azir's eternal brother. It was a most honorable title, only one more to Xerath's already impressive arsenal. Yet, how dare he, how could he, traitor, betrayer, murderer -
Best friend.
A hitched breath. Azir remembered Xerath's eyes.
They had reflected the same emotions that were rolling around his chest now. Red hot fury, licking at the corners of his heart, igniting a passion of hate. Cold, steady determination, to right what was wrong. Electrifying rush of power, ready to strike.
("Xerath," the boy Prince grinned, "That's your name now. Shh, it'll be our secret!")
And
at the quiet, corner of their eyes, the tightening curl around their souls, the bitter taste of -
==
Regret
==
Word Count : 998