Monster of Noxus [A Short Story]

The air was still — reeking of fresh blood and rain. The battle has seen its end but the war is far from over. Darius, the hand of Noxus, overlooked the hundreds of corpses that covered the battlefield like a sick bed of grass. He clenched his axe tight with pride as if it were a brush and the warzone his masterpiece. He loved the war. Since he was a child, Darius dreamt of fighting for his city with his fellow Noxian brothers and sisters. However, not everyone’s attention was focused on the victory the Noxian army had just claimed.

The Grand General of Noxus, Jericho Swain, had his eyes fixed upon the monstrosity that he had made his personal war machine, Sion. Darius stared at Sion, his empty eyes gazing at the corpses he had mercilessly slain just minutes before. Unlike Swain, Darius felt no pride in having this creature among his ranks. He felt almost humiliated that Noxus would resort to wicked necromancy to win its wars. Darius has easily proven that even a well-sharpened blade and a will to fight was enough to defeat the Demacians. However, he dared not question Swain’s authority. Even though Swain did admire Darius’ work, it would not take much disobedience to end his military career. Swain was not one who was patient when questioned or opposed. This quality made him both a strong and ruthless general.

As the Noxian soldier that remained tended to the wounded and gathered their strength, Swain’s raven flew overhead, its caws almost mocking those who died. It swooped down near Darius, catching him by surprise. As a reflex, Darius raised his axe, catching himself mid-swing as the bird flew by. “I hope you don’t intend on slaying my bird too, Darius.”

Darius turned to see Swain approaching him, hobbling forward by the aid of his cane. “It just caught me off guard, that’s all,” Darius stated, lowering his axe.

“As the Hand of Noxus, I’d thought you’d always be on guard.”

Darius simply huffed, returning his gaze to the stormy horizon. “The Demacians have fled like cowards. Our men can finally advance up to the marshes,” he boasted.

“Excellent work! Those filthy rats are now seeing the TRUE power of Noxus.”

Darius paused, choosing his words carefully for he was now entering dangerous waters. “I don’t mean to question you, General, but is it so wise to rest all of our faith in that… thing?”

Swain’s expression became more serious as he declared, “I am not resting all of my faith in ‘that thing’. Do you take me for a fool, Darius?”

“You are no fool, General. I —”

“I am merely testing the boundaries of his power,” Swain interrupted, “Our new weapon has caught the Demacians off guard and I intend on using that element of surprise to its full potential.”

“There were survivors, though. Word of Sion will spread through Demacia. Their tactics will change —”

“As will ours. Once Demacia has learned that he have resurrected one of Noxus’ greatest heroes, they will fight differently. We will use that fear to our advantage.” At this point, Swain’s raven, circled before perching itself upon Swain’s shoulder, a piece of warm flesh hanging from its dark blue beak. “It’s not that I have too much faith in Sion. I feel that you simply do not have enough faith in him. If you feel that the battlefield is not big enough for the two of you, I’m sure you can resolve your differences one way or another.”

“I understand. I’ll rally the men and prepare for advance.”

“Good.” Swain began walking away before twisting his head back to Darius and voiced, “You are a valiant warrior, Darius. I pray your emotions don’t distract you from our objective.”

As Swain limped away, Darius tried to ignore his comment. Swain was right that his emotions were getting the best of him. I gazed upon Swain and the mindless beast that was Sion one last time before making his way to the tent which his men were awaiting further orders. He tried to remain focused on the task at hand but his dislike of Sion slowly turned to jealousy. Ever since Sion was reborn, Swain has paid no attention to anything other than his pet. Swain used to look onto Darius with pride but now he feels like nothing but another soldier. He dared not to say it but Darius was beginning to feel as if Swain was becoming blind with power. Darius only hoped that that would not lead to Noxus’ downfall.

When Darius entered the tent, the men that could stand stood to salute their leader. The rain slammed against the cloth roof of the tent with such force that it was almost deafening. Darius swung his axe into the wet earth, causing it to stand on its own. Standing in front of him was a table made of barrels and planks of wood, surrounded by several Noxian soldiers. A detailed map of Valoran laid spread across the makeshift table, covered with several markers.

A soldier questioned, shouting through the sound of the rain pounding the tent, “What are your orders, Sir?”

“We may have pushed Demacia back but we have suffered casualties of our own! We are to wait here until reinforcements arrive! Once they do, we’ll advance to the Howling marsh! Once we’re there, we’ll —”

“How long will it take to send a message for reinforcements back to the city?”

Darius turned around to see Swain entering the tent, his bird shaking the rain off of its blue feathers. As the rain began to settle, the other men in the room turned their attention to the general, saluting him. “Pardon me, Sir?”

Swain repeated, “How long will it take to send a message for reinforcements back to the city?”

“About 3 days, Sir,” Darius responded.

“And how many days will it take for the reinforcements to reach us?”

“About 4 days, Sir.”

Swain paused before addressing the other men in the tent, “I would like a word alone with Darius.” Without hesitation, the soldiers exited the tent, leaving Swain and Darius alone. Darius clenched his fists as Swain maneuvered around the Hand of Noxus. He reached out with his right hand, allowing his raven migrate to his index finger before letting it sit on the table. “What do you think the Demacians will do once they find out we have a new weapon?”

“They will increase their numbers and defend at all costs.”

“Exactly. Wouldn’t you agree that the Demacians are significantly closer to the marsh than we are?”

“Yes.”

“So, if you’ve agreed with me so far, tell me, Darius. Why would we remain here when we can use our tactical advantage to beat the Demacians to the marsh?”

“Sir, you don’t expect me to lead the few men that I have left to the borders of Demacian territory.”

“I hope I don’t need to explain every little detail as to why moving while we’re ahead is the wise option.”

“It may be wise but there is too much risk. I dare not advance so close to the Demacians with only a handful of men at my disposal.”

“Do you not think I am aware of the risks? If we leave now, we’ll reach the marsh before those pigs even find out that they lost half of their men! They won’t have time to react before the Howling marsh is under Noxian control!”

“No!” Darius snapped, “I am not putting the lives of my men at stake!” Almost immediately, Darius regretted his last words. If there was anyone to not yell at was the Grand General of Noxus. Swain’s expression swiftly turned vile. Darius averted his gaze from Swain, staring at his bird instead. It cawed, almost as if laughing at Darius’ disrespect towards Swain.

“I understand that these are your men… Darius,” responded Swain in an unnaturally calm voice, “but this is MY army and until I retire from Grand General, you are to remain loyal to me. I do not know what has become of you as you are now willingly testing my patience. I admire your passion but with victory within our grasp, waiting would only crush our chances. Now if being the Hand of Noxus is too much of a task for you, I can easily strip you of your rank but until then, I expect you to refrain from questioning me any further. Do I make myself clear?”

Darius bowed his head. “I understand. I apologize for disrespecting you, Sir.”

“Good. Now, get your men ready. We leave at dusk,” Swain commanded.

“Yes, General.” Swain exited the tent, leaving Darius alone. His bird soon followed, cawing one last time in Darius’ face. Now alone, Darius let out a loud sigh, running his hand through his damp, black hair. He no longer knew who was right. Hardly ever has Darius questioned his own intentions and emotions. He knew not whether his disgust of Sion has made him differently of the Grand General but he knew he must keep his composure for he was certain Swain would not hesitate to remove him from duty.

After a great pause, Darius gripped his axe and ripped it from the ground, its blade now blanketed with a smooth layer of mud. He exited the tent and, with a great deal of uncertainty, yelled to his men, “Prepare yourselves, men! We part for the Howling Marsh at dusk!” He looked up to see Sion in the distance, staring back at him from on top of a hill. All Darius could think was how much he hated that monster of Noxus.