[Fanfiction] Fracture - Chapter 11

PROLOGUE: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/fZAXxjHA-fanfiction-fracture PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/GoVBrfPK-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-10-1

Fanfiction.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10770866/1/Fracture

Genres: Suspense/Drama/Mystery/a lot of others Characters: Leona, Caitlyn, Nasus, Kassadin, too many to list

Summary: The machine that sustains the lethal matches of the League fails. Events spiral outwards. (Character death.)

---

ENCOUNTER

Four days – four days it had taken her to find this abominable site.

And there was nothing here.

Had the officials sent her on a fool's errand?

Trudging beneath a flaming sky, Kayle grimaced. The streets of the ancient city were vast and empty, and though she had expected nothing less, it was still eerie. Beneath her feet she could feel the flow of the strange, dark energy that dwelt here. There was something unnerving about the city's silence – as if its ruin hadn't been brought about by time alone.

The Prophet was nowhere in sight.

It had been obvious from the beginning what his aim was. Since his sabotage had been revealed, she and the officials had had more than an inkling. After all his time spent in the League, all of his conflicts with Kassadin, it would've been folly to assume that Malzahar wanted anything other than to open a rift into the Void.

The Institute of War was aware that there was a tear on Runeterra, somehow, somewhere, that leaked into said abyss. The proof was in the presence of the Voidborn. How it could be any place other than Icathia, however, was beyond her.

The Judicator folded her wings closer about her, stepping lightly over scattered stones that littered what remained of the city's roads. Its cyclopean walls were crumbling, uneven rocks settled in piles where they'd fallen.

Here Malzahar had peered into the Void and gained his otherworldly powers. Here Kassadin had confronted the Void and been nearly consumed by it. Here Kog'maw had arrived from the Void, wretched and infantile under the sun of a vibrant world. If Icathia was not the site of the tear, then it was certainly the site where the barrier between Runeterra and the Void was the weakest.

She arrived at the center of the city now, a sort of town square albeit circular in nature. Somehow the intricate swirling pattern of the complex had remained intact throughout the ages, tiles of faded colors spiraling about a focal point. It was almost hypnotic to look at. To stand atop was a different matter entirely.

Kayle shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Her unease had magnified almost tenfold now that she stood in the midst of Icathia. There was a strange feeling in her gut, as if she were utterly alone and exposed. The sun had almost fully set now, fiery hues giving way to cooler shades. Night would fall soon.

In the distance, a small building collapsed.

Instantly her hands lit up with righteous fury. The Judicator stood tense, looking back and forth for her target.

"Who goes there?" she called out warily. "Show yourself!"

They wouldn't, naturally. But such words tended to make good deterrents, she had found over the ages. Kayle slowly drew her sword. She could hear something shuffling across the ground, now – light steps, as if their feet were thin, or always poised to leap.

Somewhere, there was the sound of low, guttural laughing.

"I sense worthy prey..."

She knew that voice.

"You're the Voidreaver, aren't you?" She spread her wings, stretching them out in anticipation of a hasty flight. "Where is your prophet?"

Silence for the briefest of moments. Another stone fell from atop a nearby building. Kayle took a breath.

There were claws sinking into her back.

She gasped, nearly losing her grip on her sword as she tried to reach around. They were folding into where her wings left her armor – long, jagged claws. The Judicator stifled an agonized cry as around her formed the protective sphere of divine intervention.

The pain ceased for an infinitesimal second of a moment, but there remained a lingering weight on her back, the invasive feeling of something digging into her flesh. Kayle beat her wings on instinct – they fluttered uselessly. She left the ground for but a second before stumbling back to earth. Somehow she was trapped, couldn't move – as if she was bound. She could not maintain her shield.

Through the haze of pain she could hear more of the low, hissing laughter.

"That's enough."

That, too, was a voice she knew.

Neither the pain nor the claws left her. She lay prone on her front, the Voidreaver perched atop her back. In her dimming vision, she could just make out the blood beginning to pool.

"Why stop at the best parrrrrrt?" he asked, voice all but a purr.

"We were only to intercept any that came. Not to kill them."

"He didn't specify." Kayle gasped as Kha'Zix tore a claw out of her roughly. "You have no authority here, Fallen Angel."

There was a pause – a lull in the buzzing of her brain. She struggled to turn her head, to see if Morgana was there. The Voidreaver plunged his claws into the base of her wings, and again, she smothered her cry to a grunt.

"I said, that's enough!"

There was another pause. The Judicator breathed harshly, trying to suppress the pain. There was so much blood – she had no idea she could bleed this much. She felt so cold, suddenly. Was her sister here to kill her?

"Voidreaver..." It was Morgana's voice again, but it was fuzzy to her ears – as if she were underwater.

She could hear nothing of his reply – assumed that he didn't. For a moment, Kayle thought it was over.

Kha'Zix dug his claws in, and pulled.

This time, she could not stifle her scream.

.

.

.

"You okay?"

He only grunted in reply as she led him to sit against a wall. Sivir checked the wrapping, making sure the knot was tight. Burlap didn't make for the best bandages, but for the moment it was the best they had.

"You shouldn't have held back," she sighed, slotting her torch into a rusted holder on the wall. "He really messed you up."

"I was being foolish," Nasus admitted forlornly. He gingerly pressed a hand against his side. "By now I know how my brother is, but when I saw him appear so calm with the Serpent's Embrace..."

"I know," she assured him, patting him on the arm. "No helping that now."

"We should keep moving," he said, through a somewhat labored breath.

"As if we could keep going with your guts almost sliced open," the Battle Mistress snorted. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this tomb is? There are still a lot of traps that weren't set off last time I was here."

"Better than to meet with my brother," the librarian returned. "His destructive nature would certainly set them off."

"Katarina stayed behind to keep him under wraps. As long as you don't get into reaching distance, it should be fine, right?"

"I assure you, Renekton can close distances quite easily," he informed her wryly, face twisting up just slightly in pain as he removed his hand from his side. "We should seek out our answers now, before it becomes too troublesome."

Sivir frowned, reluctantly helping him stand. This was a foolhardy idea – to her, at least – but she knew Nasus could be surprisingly stubborn when it came down to it. They had come here to find answers for Cassopeia, but that didn't mean he was obligated to risk his life for them. He didn't owe the Du Couteau's anything.

"The chamber where it happened is a pretty substantial walk down," she informed him, retrieving the torch from the wall. "Can you make it that long?"

"I am not immortal in name only," he reminded her gently, leaning against his halberd for support. "This is just a flesh wound."

She almost rolled her eyes. "If you say so. Follow me."

Together they trudged through the narrow corridor that served as the entryway to the tomb's subterranean bowels. Some of it had caved in on the sides, but there was still a relatively clear path. If her memory was right, they would come upon a stairwell down pretty soon. There was a tripwire at the top of it, but she'd cut it the last time she was here. It had been rigged with a blade that'd almost taken off Cassiopeia's head. In hindsight, she kind of regretted disabling it.

"So what do you actually know about Shurima?" she asked, keeping her voice low. It was so damn empty, the slightest noises echoed immensely. "You spend a lot of time here, from what I hear."

"I have perused what limited records the Institute had of its history," answered Nasus, taking the first few steps down the stairs. She quickened her pace a little bit so that she could walk ahead of him – it would be stupid to let the wounded one lead. "It reminds me greatly of my home."

"Old and in shambles?"

"A pinnacle of once-greatness, rather," he replied dryly

"So I take it you know about as much about ancient curses as the rest of us, then," she said, gesturing for him to carefully sidestep a suspiciously clean looking tile. If the little holes on the walls said anything, it was a classic arrow trap. How the things stayed running for so long – or if there were even any arrows left to fire – was beyond her.

"Unfortunately so. I am skeptical of our chances of curing Miss Du Couteau."

"It won't be on you either way it falls," the mercenary told him with a shrug. "If she listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"What exactly happened here that made her so?" He cast a curious glance about them, the narrow corridor widening into a network of vaster chambers. "What was buried within this tomb?"

"Can't tell you that," she responded shortly. As much as she hated it, she was technically under oath. It didn't mean much, but while they were still on this little camping trip, she had no intentions of pissing off Katarina. It wasn't like he wouldn't find out on his own, at any rate. They were already in the thick of the matter.

Nasus didn't reply, and from the corner of her eye she could see him wince and slide a hand over to his side. The idiot really was pushing himself too hard. Too bad there was nothing living in this tomb, otherwise he could've siphoned a little to keep himself going.

They spilled out into a considerably large chamber now, although a lot of it had caved in. The Battle Mistress could just recall it. It had been the room they entered right before delving into the heart of the tomb.

"Ah. Here's the interesting stuff," she said, gesturing towards a wall ahead of them. What was left was covered in pictures, some kind of glyphs that she had never been able to nor ever cared to read. "You wouldn't happen to be fluent in Shuriman text...?"

"I am not," he said, shaking his head. The librarian reached out, brushing his fingers across the dusty pictures. "Or I did not believe I was - but these glyphs..."

Sivir shot him a glance. "Can you read it?"

"I've seen this before – when I oversaw the Great Library." Well that was awfully convenient. His eyes narrowed, and she held the torch closer for him. "I believe it's... a warning."

"A warning for what?"

"It says... that the unwary trespasser may soon find their heart will mirror their soul."

"That's wonderfully cryptic," she muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "But I bet this has to do with the curse on Cassiopeia. She always had the heart of a snake."

"Strange that they mention soul specifically, however," noted Nasus, "and not simply outward appearance."

"You think it's significant?" she asked skeptically, giving him a sideways glance.

"We cannot discount any details," he answered with a slight shrug, before turning and looking over the rest of the ruined wall. "It is a shame that so much of this passage was destroyed. The answer could have lied here."

"Things generally don't come that easy." Sivir picked at a loose stone with her free hand. "You're welcome to poke around if you think we can salvage something."

"Did anything else of significance occur beyond this point?" The librarian turned towards the partially collapsed doorway to the next chamber.

"Well, where you're looking is the room leading to where she got cursed," said the mercenary. "Anywhere after that, I'm not really supposed to say."

He shot her an unamused glance. "Your confidentiality policy is making this quite difficult, it would seem."

"It's not mine," she replied easily. "You can take it up with Katarina if it's bugging you so much."

Nasus made a noise suspiciously similar to a snort. "I doubt that would pan out well."

The librarian moved around her and hobbled towards the entryway to the next room. Cautiously, the Battle Mistress followed after.

"This room is empty?" he asked curiously, surveying their dilapidated surroundings. A corner of the room was caved in completely, an open archway into a narrow hallway trailing off into darkness.

"Empty as the day we found it," came her easy answer. Sivir crossed her arms. "There's a little bit of writing on the wall if you want to take another shot, but it's pretty faded."

Nasus drew close to the dusty stone, tilting his head. "It says... 'Turn back,' I believe."

"A final warning?" she wondered casually. "Seen plenty of those before."

"Most likely." The librarian glanced around once again - searching for what, she didn't know - but his gaze shifted back towards the open archway. "It is strange. Whoever built this tomb took great pains to equip it against raiders, and yet... the way is open, nonetheless."

"Maybe it's bait for fools," she offered, corner of her lips turning up into a sharp smile as she thought of Cassiopeia, and her obstinacy. "Dead men can't try twice."

The Curator inclined his head towards her. "Perhaps it is so."

A yell echoed throughout distant, empty chambers. The Battle Mistress tensed, whirling around to face the entryway. Footsteps. Running. Someone was yelling.

"Stop! Dammit, stop right there!" It was Katarina.

She could see Nasus rising from her periphery, a hand going to his side again. She reached for her crossblade.

Renekton burst into the room.

.

.

.

Next Chapter: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/MzMPMtQl-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-12