Completed - The Wolf's Chase
polycounter lvl 2
I know it's a bit late in the game, but I work my best at the last possible moment, so here's hoping that I come up with something good over the next few days! I will post update as I determine who I will write about and what - I haven't played LoL before and I am still working my way through the champions but I have a few good candidates. Thanks!
Replies
-A parade in (Bilgewater?) for Kindred, a sort of Dia de los Muertos celebration; an accident and Kindred arrives; outside of town a small girl laying flowers for her mother in the cemetery; a game with Wolf that leads to a future promise; the young girl grown up, finding out what keeping her promise means. - Sounds a bit ominous written like that, but the intent would be to show a "softer" side to Kindred, something more nuanced, and a unique human who brings that out in them.
-Something that deals with the chase from Wolf - a more visceral experience detailing what it's like to be truly chased by him.
-What does Kindred do when they aren't hunting? Are they always hunting (people are always dying)? If they weren't always hunting, what would they do? Perhaps exploring a waiting time for them and the impatience or other emotions it brings, and then going from one hunt to another.
These are just general musings. They may or may not come to pass, but I welcome any and all comments, observations, thoughts, etc!
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Her knives flashed on her hips as she raced across the roof, her quick feet racing across the shingles with barely a sound. Her legs stretched as she jumped across an alley, leaping with the grace of a feline, a light thump to her right as Garen dropped next to her.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it Aria?” he flashed her a bright grin, and the moon scattered across his body as it reflected off the bits of metal hidden within his clothes.
“Always,” she replied, with a cat-like grin of her own, before she dashed off to the next roof.
Leap after leap, a twist here and a turn there, a flip between clothing lines and a slide under old gates, they wove through the city like two dancers in the night, moving to a music only thieves knew. A whisper here and a glance there, and soon their bags were filled with all the things their clients had requested.
A brief pause to double check their list on a spire near the end of the city. As Aria looked out over the sprawling city that was Piltover, with the taint of shadow from Zaun below, she mused at the wealth contained within it, and how many times she’d cut its strings over the last ten years.
“Everything is accounted for.” Garen slipped up behind her and put his arm around her.
“Excellent,” she murmured, as she rested her head on his shoulder, content in the moment that they remained together, the night breeze playing with their hair and clothes.
A loud crack, the moment shattered into a million pieces, and a cry of anguish in Aria’s ear. Then a gut-wrenching pain, and red in her vision as a bullet tore through her abdomen. Dropping to her knees, she saw a flash of blue on a roof in the distance, and the glint of metal. A soft moaning sound pulled her attention to her side, and she saw her beloved, bathed in moonlight and crimson, his bright blue eyes fading to grey as the life drained from him.
“My love….my life… my moon...I’ll miss you,” Garen breathed, the words barely escaping his lips. His eyes closed, a sigh passed through his body, and he began to slide on the shingles he lay on.
“Garen!” she cried. Ignoring the wrenching pain in her gut, she reached out for him, her fingers brushing against his and then, the empty air as his body fell into the dark depths of the city streets. She screamed, her heart and body broken, her voice echoing off the buildings around her. As the pain enveloped her, Aria heard the faint sound of metal clinking on stone below, and hovering above her a mask, in black and white. She faded away.
Trapped. There was no air, no light, just a never-ending darkness. There was pain, and yet nothing hurt. Breath came ragged, but also not at all; it felt like a never-ending limbo wrapped in a cocoon of uncertainty.
What is this? she thought. Where am I?
And then the light came, blinding and brilliant, it filled her in the same way that the darkness had, completely and fully, yet without any comfort. She felt as though she were standing and floating at the same time, there was a weightlessness to her that she hadn’t ever felt before.
“Your soul rests now.”
She heard a lilting feminine voice, echoing in the vastness that was whatever lay around her. And then her eyes adjusted, just in time for her to see a brilliant silver arrow arc through the air and pierce the heart of the man in front of her; a man she recognized.
“No!” she screamed, her voice aching and full. She felt as though her throat had been ripped to shreds, but her heart ached worse as she watched the body of the man she loved shatter and turn to ribbons of dust.
She turned to face the perpetrators and realization hit her. A beautiful snow white and a seething deep black stood before her, masks worn of each other’s faces.
“Kindred,” she breathed.
“She knows us, sweet Wolf,” said Lamb, holding her bow to her chest.
“And we know her,” rumbled Wolf as he sauntered up to the trembling lost lover.
“Yes we do, she is Aria and we have been waiting for her.”
“Will she play a game?”
“Let us ask her,” Lamb’s bright eyes stared deep into Aria’s and the woman felt her body tremble. “What would you prefer, young one? You comprehend and so you must choose. Do you wish for Lamb’s bow or Wolf’s chase?”
Aria couldn’t remember how she had arrived here, how she had died, but as she looked around, she saw the buildings of her city, and the stone under her feet. The same stone she had raced upon her whole life, the stone she had met her true love on, and the same stone that must have held her as she breathed her last true breath. A calm encompassed her body.
Wolf grumbled with impatience, “I am bored! May I choose for her, little Lamb? A chase with biting and howling!” He nipped at the air in excitement, the black fog of his body roiling with restlessness.
“Patience, Wolf,” Lamb replied. “The little one is contemplating her existence.”
Aria looked at the calm Lamb, and thought of her silver arrow neatly piercing the body. Then she turned to Wolf.
“My whole life was a chase, a hunt for riches and an escape from those who would prefer I not retrieve them,” she said. She looked into his dark eyes, glittering like black obsidian and swallowed her fear. “I will play your game!” And she turned and ran into the city.
Wolf howled with pleasure behind her and galloped along the streets she had grown up in, his black essence seeming to encompass everything he stepped on. Too late, Aria realized that this city of hers was like her limbo; it felt the same and yet like nowhere she had ever been. Buildings shifted and stones moved like a nightmare as she Wolf materialized behind her.
“Run, little one, run!” he growled, a dry, hot breath in her ear. She sprinted, climbing over walls, and dashing between buildings, the fear she had tried to swallow suddenly welling up inside her, building into a terror.
Behind her, Wolf pounced on shadows and bounced against doors, playing the game to make it last. A hunt was always better when there was more fun to it. He saw the human scramble to open a door and slithered around the building instead. Crashing from the inside as she raced to get out, not knowing that the Wolf was hunched outside, waiting for
*it cuts out there as I am realizing that I don't like the direction this is going. I really have my work cut out for me if I am to get this in before the deadline tonight.
Silver streamed out of his body like a current and wrapped itself in Lamb’s hand, her arrow disappearing into the light above his heart. He had embraced his life with fullness, and accepted his death with understanding.
“Depart in peace,” Lamb murmured, her voice low and resonant. She looked up at Wolf, an impatient mass of blackness prowling through the trees. He paused, and tilted his head towards her.
“Soon?” he asked, a growl constant in the back of his voice.
“We shall see, my dear Wolf,” she replied and looked past him to the young woman who had parted with her lover.
Confused, the woman stood with her back to them and looked around her. She had yet to comprehend her surroundings, and Lamb waited with patience while Wolf continued to pace. When the woman turned to face them, she gasped.
“Kindred!”
“She knows us,” Lamb said, the silver around her hand fading into non-existence.
“Of course, we are always known,” rasped Wolf, as he wrapped himself around Lamb. His eyes glinted with excitement and hope as he stared at the shivering woman.
Still bewildered, the woman took in her surroundings. A forest, dark and deep, surrounded on all edges by an aching hollowness, surreal in its absoluteness. She spied her partner’s body, still streaming with silver, dissipating into the void, and moaned.
Wolf rumbled with restlessness and snaked around the woman’s shoulders.
“I am bored, Lamb. I want to play and bite! A game, a game!” He nipped the air with excitement and the young woman’s face hardened, anger and sadness creasing it with lines.
Lamb noticed the change and laughed lightly. “It would seem she is yours, lovely Wolf. Begin your game.”
Wolf howled and his body writhed in anticipation as the woman raced off into the woods. Freed of her body, she was lighter than normal and sprinted with speed, her soul bent upon the task of escaping. The woods behind her filled with blackness as Wolf gave chase, his growls filling her bones as he pounced from log to rock. The forest here was unlike that which she had come to know; filled with shifting colors and moving pieces, the trees warped around her in a nightmarish kaleidoscope. Too late, she realized this was not a familiar world, this game was not hers to be won, but she ran on anyways.
“Run, little one, run!” Wolf growled, a dry, hot breath in her ear. He laughed as he chased his prey, happy for a chance to play the game. Many had met Lamb’s embrace, but recently few had chosen the hunt, and so he had become bored.
The woman felt Wolf’s presence behind her as she struggled to keep down her fear. Her life had been lived as many others had, full of experiences and emotions, and as she ran, she remembered them all. She felt her soul being laid bare, any armor that she had built up to protect herself being torn asunder, as the wind around her whipped through her body and wrenched out what was hers.
Wolf could taste the woman’s terror, her emotions and memories like a copper tang on his tongue. He grinned as he sprinted through the trees, the woman’s life coloring the scenery rushing around them, and wrapping them in the sonorous sounds of her soul. This was the chase, the true nature of Wolf’s hunt - to expose the soul of those who could not accept it, to bring life to their death as they turned from Lamb’s grace and wept for what they had lost. The acceptance of those who chose Lamb would be brought to those who ran from Wolf, though it meant pain and suffering. Again, Wolf grinned. This was a good hunt.
Billowing blackness surrounded the woman as her breath rasped. The ground came up to meet her as she continued to run, her fear and anger worked into a frenzy, anguish and longing boiling up from within her to escape as a torrent of crimson that formed a wave around her and rushed her along with the tide of despair. She felt herself becoming lost, swept up in the rush of who she had been, a crescendo of memories, wondering how she had come to be in this place to become another soul for death’s enjoyment.
The woman felt her soul tiring. The dread had begun to ebb, and there was nothing left to expose. There was no longer the pain of loss in her heart, as her body had become numb with understanding. Her life had been cast in its own way, and death would not change that. A weariness filled her and she began to smile.
Wolf, still embroiled in the hunt, oblivious to the change around him, snapped at the woman’s heels, and she stumbled. She fell to her knees, no longer trying to get away. Excited, Wolf readied himself to tear asunder her ribbons of life, but stopped short as the woman turned to face him. The smile on her face filled him with dismay and he yowled in frustration. The woman had come to terms with her life and was welcoming Kindred as her lover had done before her; she was no longer Wolf’s to take.
Lamb leapt gently from the tree she had been watching from, spirit leaves scattering in her wake. Her bow was bright as she lifted it and a silver streak rushed at the young woman. As it pierced her heart, the woman’s eyes closed, and her body scattered into the void.
Lamb turned to Wolf, who was curled up on the forest floor in misery, his eyes glinting in the darkness. She laid her hand on his head, his mask a match for her countenance. A scream echoed off the trees in the distance, and Wolf raised his bright eyes to Lamb’s.
A whisper and a growl, soft and low.
“Life ends, and a new hunt begins.”