A Search Through Runeterra (Arcane)

"Sometimes you're the catch. Sometimes you're the bait."~ Nami, The Tidecaller, Send Feet Pics

Chests are back baby! And Champs cost 50% less! Wow wow wow.

Leave a comment pls.

Also! Quick update! From Saturday you will get a chapter every day till the next Monday!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sylas walked into the Scarmother's tent. The voices inside stopped as he stepped in and he could feel their eyes turn to him.

"What's our plan for this attack?" He asked with his arms crossed.

The Scarmother Vrynna turned her head awkwardly to face him with her one good eye. She smirked at him and faced her informants. "Tell him."

One of the heavily cloaked men turned to him with a few scrolls in hand. He eyed him a moment before turning to the scrolls and reading. "Our plan is to attack tomorrow at midday. The other tribes will move at the same time."

Sylas nodded. "Just a straight forward attack?"

The man nodded.

"Okay." Sylas fell into thought. "Any enemies that might be trouble?"

The man turned to his friend, who started speaking. "Their Iceborn. They are all very strong. First Gragas. He is a drunk. But don't let that fool you. He is surprisingly strong and fast. His weapon of choice is a barrel of mead which holds a chunk of True Ice."

"A drunk?" Sylas chuckled. "This might be easier than I imagined."

"No." Vrynna interrupted. "Do not underestimate him. Every single one of them is strong. A single misstep and you would see your life slip away." Her eyes shifted toward Shiverbones. "Ask him."

Shiverbones was a large man cloaked in heavy fur. Bones and skulls hung about his person. His large arms and chest were riddled with scars. He grit his teeth, "That one is mine."

"Shiverbones lost a brawl against him. It would be revenge." Vrynna explained and nodded toward the large man.

With an eyebrow raised Sylas looked at the man. He knew how strong the man was in battle, he lost in a brawl? Maybe he was underestimating his enemies.

"Next is Braum. He is called a hero by many. A kind man. But he is probably the strongest in the group. He carries a True Ice door which he uses as a shield. But for all his strength, he wouldn't actively move to kill warriors. The younger they are, the higher the chance he won't kill them. He would most likely be used to protect their leader."

Sylas shifted his eyes to Thorva, who softly nodded. "So you would send your youngest against him?" He asked.

Vrynna nodded.

Sylas stood silently, not being able to imagine having to send the youngest of this group against the supposed strongest.

The man continued, "Next their leader Ashe. She uses a True Ice bow. One not seen on anyone's person since Avarosa herself. She is skilled with the weapon. Enough to be called the second coming of Avarosa. She would be standing behind while attacking. Our biggest threat. Every arrow from her is enchanted with True Ice. Contact means death. Taking her out of the battle is important."

Avarosa. Sylas had heard of her. One of the Three Sisters. The so called 'good one'.

"If it is a straight forward attack.... how are you going to do that." Sylas asked.

The man looked away from his scroll. "The other tribes would stall for as long as they can if they face her. But if we do.... your group of shamans would be needed to push her back."

Sylas nodded. Long range against long range. Magic against True Ice.

"That is the ones we are sure about. There are two more. One we have only heard stories about while the other has been sighted multiple times. It is his hunt that has brought us here today. Ashe's Oathsworn. Her Bloodsworn. An Iceborn barbarian from the north. Tryndamere he is called. Very strong and very fast. But something about him doesn't make sense. He should have a lot of scars on his person but there is only one across his chest."

"Why should he have a lot of scars?" Sylas asked.

"A result of battle." Brokvar Ironfist spoke. "He has been in many battles. No man lives through battle unscathed." 

The man was large. And an Iceborn. The one he fought half alive. Brokvar was Vrynna's lover, or one of them at least. Freljordian women had multiple husbands and if the women led a tribe, they had more. Sylas looked down on this culture. For him, there must only be one. One wife. One husband. More and the marriage wouldn't be sacred anymore.

Barbaric.

The words that came out of his mouth were different however, "Weapon?"

The informant answered. "A jagged True Ice blade."

Sylas nodded before asking, "The last one?"

"An outsider who was welcomed into Rakelstake. Noxian. He completed an impossible trial alone. The heads of multiple Draklorn. When the council called him out as a liar, he faced them all. Alone. And won without taking a blow or using his magic. He isn't Iceborn but he is a shaman. He also speaks of experiences that seem like they are out of some story. But the chances of use meeting him are quite less for now."

"Why?" Sylas asked. A mage. That was a battle that would work in his favor. Magic was his. And it was time to take back what is his.

"He isn't here. The man.... Gregori is his name, he has gone back to Noxus." The man finished.

Sylas looked at the man stunned. Why had he spoken so much about a man who wouldn't be on the battlefield?

"But there is a chance he could be present." He finished.

Letting out a breath, Sylas composed himself.

"We might have another to face. An Iceborn from the only alliance the Avarosans have left. Her name's Kanna. Fierce and quick. She has singlehandedly kept her people alive. Any who have tried to attack them have faced extreme retaliation. They are practically beasts in human form. She wields a large axe and two daggers. All True Ice. The only one mad enough to wield multiple True Ice weapons."

"She is someone we have to look out for." A voice cut in. Halgar looked at the group from his seat. "I knew her a long time ago. She will not back down or surrender. If we cannot take her out quickly..... then she will win, always."

CLINK

CLINK

The eyes turned to Sylas, who turned around. "We will win this.... I will make sure of it." He walked outside without looking back.

Thorva watched from the side before silently leaving the group and arriving next to him. "Don't be callous. This will not be an easy battle." Her words were in Velarian, something her group did not speak.

Sylas nodded.

"Don't die Sylas. I have everything riding on you and your survival." She reached out to his arm but he moved away.

Her eyes showed betrayal at the action.

Facing her, he spoke, "You know what would happen if you touch me." A brief flicker of pain passed through his eyes. 

She knew.

He absorbed magic endlessly and used it as his own.

Their first interaction had been because of it. She had grabbed onto a freezing and almost dead Sylas and the one falling unconscious was her instead. He had taken her magic like it was his.

Sylas accepted his magic but he had also feared it. That fear was the reason he kept his shackles on. Everyone believed it was a sign of defiance..... but it wasn't. He couldn't control his magic. It was too strong. Too uncontrollable. Too wild.

The Petricite around his wrists kept them under wraps. It held back the waves of magic that threatened to take away everything around him. He wasn't afraid to use his magic. No. Just afraid of its full capabilities.

The power he wielded needed more time. More practice. More training.

He would and could take and take. It was quite cathartic to see people killed by their own magic. The shock on their faces was something he relished. Their own magic betraying them. It was true justice.

The thought that he was special was always there. Why else would they keep him contained in that manner? Why else would they do everything in their power to kill him? Why else would they blame him for the death of their king?

Fear.

Fear for their hopes and dreams crumbling in the presence of true power. Fear of their schemes coming undone. Fear for losing their corrupt heads.

The upcoming battle was just a stepping stone.

More practice for the eventual showdown at Demacia. 

His final battle for revenge, peace and above all.... change. The mages around him had started to look to him as a leader. As time went on... he felt himself become one. He looked out for them. He provided for them. He stood tall so that they could live behind him.

It wasn't often one killed a king.

Even less often to have killed the king in his own kingdom, all alone.

The people loved and respected Sylas for that.

Sylas hadn't told them of what truly happened. His innocence was still a secret from everyone.

But he couldn't reveal the truth either.

Not when everyone relied on him.

His words with the Fallen Lady had put things into perspective. His life was meant to be in constant turmoil so the chances of a happy future could exist.

The life of his was a sacrifice. A sacrifice for the next generation of mages.

As he walked past all the tents and into the white expanse, leaving Thorva behind, he reached for the shackles on his hand. 

There was still training to be done.