[WIP Thread] Kaz's Contest Entries

Ryugi_Kazamaru

Hello!

This will be a general Work In Progress thread for my entries, whatever form they will take, rather than spamming the board with multiple threads.  It's my understanding that the contest allows for multiple entries from the same person, even in the same category, and each will be counted as separate entries.  The rules didn't say whether or not I had to make a thread for each entry, at least as far as I could see in the basic guidelines, so I figured I'd be polite and keep them to one thread.

About the Author:
I've been playing League for many years now, and in that time, I've always loved the world and characters.  I have a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and Creative Writing, and have loved language and stories from a young age.  Getting to tell stories like this is something I've wanted to do for a long time, even professionally, but life hasn't turned out that way for me.  So, to express my love and interest in the world of Runeterra and its characters, I've decided to enter the contest.  Regardless of whether or not I win, I hope those reading my shorts will find them as fun and interesting as I do the world of Runeterra and League of Legends, and I'm happy to share them with everyone.

Current Works in Progress/Ideation-

• "Old Wounds" -  Riven story

Ryugi_Kazamaru

Old Wounds

It had been weeks since the Basilich Uprising had been put down, and even far from the fortified walls of the capital the Empire's grip had been firmly reinforced.  It was not like Ionia.  Life here could go on as normal, save for the occasional news of a battle, or someone talking about those who were lost.  Riven sighed, lifting the bowl of bone broth to her lips and drinking down a mouthful.  She looked around the room, taking note of her surroundings, identifying threats.  It was the same thing she'd done every day of her life.  It had kept her alive, ever since her childhood as an orphan in the Noxian slums. 

A few families and poor travelers ate quietly, some simply passing through the small town as she was doing.  The air was humid and carried the cloying smell of incense and greenery.  A little girl, one no more than four or five winters old, coughed violently, her parents tending to her as best they could.  Riven frowned and turned away, taking another drink of her meal.  She knew the signs, and the fate, that would befall those that inhaled the fumes from Zaunite alchemical weapons, or worse, came into direct contact...

For all the Empire provided in stability, security, it fell apart when one saw the true cost, just as it had for her.  She paused, looking down to the swirling liquid in the bowl, her reflection warped by motion.  Yet, here she was, wandering, lost, with a broken blade and a broken spirit.  No, she corrected herself, her spirit was not lost.  If anything, she knew her purpose now better than ever.  But after everything, how could she hope to make a difference?  She was one woman, and no matter her skill, she was not an army.  Quilletta Varn had been one woman, and she had raised an army, held a city, but what good had it been?  What more could she hope to accomplish alone?

Riven let the question go unanswered in her mind as she finished her meal, leaving the bowl on the table to be collected.  As she exited the building and made her way into the city streets, she bumped shoulders with a few patrons coming in, excusing herself and continuing on her way, catching a few gazes.  Worn boots carried her down the main road through the small village for a short time, before a voice called out to her, and she felt something strike her back, thumping to the ground, a rock. 

"I will not allow a Noxian dog like you to leave."  Riven stopped, sighed, and turned to face the voice.  A man carried a long blade in his hand, eyes staring her down.  "You demons took everything from me...my family.  I would see your life ended as you ended theirs!"  With a flurry of movement, the man lifted the weapon above his head, tip pointing toward Riven, both hands holding the handle firmly.  "My honor demands your death."

"I don't wish to fight you...  You are not my enemy."  Riven spoke, her hand reflexively reaching for her side, and the man's eyes narrowed.

"Then you will die!"  His stance widened slightly, and his blade glinted brilliantly in the sun.  Riven was momentarily blinded and completely caught off guard.  But her ears were not so helpless, and as the man's footfalls halted after a charge, she knew he had gone airborne.  Instinctively, she threw herself sideways, clattering into a small cart as she heard the swordsman's landing near the spot she'd just been standing.  As her vision returned, she barely had time to register what had happened and get to her feet before a flash of steel sliced away the tattered cloak from her neck, the fabric dropping to the ground as she escaped a killing stroke by experience alone.  If she'd miscalculated his blade's length from her brief glance, she'd have been dead.

The exile stumbled backward into a fighting stance as she drew what remained of her once massive weapon.  The commotion had attracted the town guard, and they moved into flanking positions around Riven and the warrior, crossbows, blades, and spears leveled.  Luckily no firearms, she thought.  Her eyes swept the guards and her opponent, heart pounding in her chest, arms and legs tingling with adrenaline, and she grit her teeth.  However, as she looked on, the guards stared at her weapon, hushed tones spreading like wildfire.

"You!"  The warrior's eyes opened wide.  "She's the Blade!"  His attention turned to the guards and he shouted.  "Take her, now!"  In an instant, they all charged, a mass of bodies, blades, and bolts closing on Riven en masse.  This was what it had come to, what always came to pass.  No one listened or understood, all they saw was their hate or pride.  She couldn't save her soldiers or those that had died, but maybe she could make a statement anyway, here and now.

With a powerful shout, emerald arcs of crackling energy tore free from Riven's form in all directions, slamming into the guards and blowing away their projectiles.  As they all lay scattered and stunned by the burst of ki, Riven spoke, her eyes on the shocked warrior as he picked himself up.

"Some wounds don't heal with blood and time."  Her blade's sole rune glowed faintly, trailing a faint green outline that mirrored the weapon's former size. "We've all lost something or someone.  But we've survived.  How we live, the path we choose to follow, reflects on the future we want to create."  She reached down, wrapping the even more tattered cloak about her shoulders once again.  "You've been given life...  Use it to reforge what's broken in the world. Learn from your mistakes..."  She turned away, taking a step down the road after a brief pause.  "I have."