Yasuo vs. Riven
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The forest was bright, nigh cheerful, in contrast to Yasuo's perpetual aura of regret and desiderium. He tread slowly along the chips of wood and twigs that litter the ground. Not because he was tired, no, but because the sound of every single piece of wood breaking reminded him of the dying cries of his former friends by his own blade. He closed his eyes, continuing to wander, trying his hardest to not let his emotions overcome him. He didn't know where he was going, or why, but all he knew was that he had to go. Away from the pain, away from the guilt. But little did he know that it ever followed him.
He is a man that is not very easy to surprise, or catch off guard. Which is why it's even more shocking when he hears someone's voice. Instinctively, Yasuo's hand flew to his sword's hilt, though he did not unsheath it.
"Why is it that you wander?"
Yasuo looked around frantically. His eyes narrowed; his brows lowered. He searched for this potential threat.
"To escape pain? To escape loss and guilt? Are you not aware that you carry these things?"
Yasuo unsheathed his sword. By an inch. He spoke in his calm, measured voice, but you could always hear that hint of sadness within it. Ever guarded. "Show yourself."
Behind a tree came a figure into Yasuo's view. It was a man, most assuredly Ionian by his facial features. And he was old. Very old. It almost seemed like he was too old to be alive. And there was something strange about him. Wind magic seemed to flow very subtly around him; almost undetectable to anyone without Yasuo's vast knowledge and talent. And for some reason, Yasuo no longer felt threatened, as he laid his eyes upon this man. He sheathed that inch of his blade, looking at the man from above his high collar. Just as Yasuo was about to speak, perhaps ask a question, the old man spoke.
"If you do not change yourself for the better, you will lose even more than you already have."
Yasuo's eyes narrowed once more. He tried to turn away from the man. He couldn't. He clenched his fists, concentrating, then used an impressive amount of wind magic to dash towards the old man immediately, landing directly in front of him. The man did not flinch. Yasuo looked down at the old man, in an almost intimidating way. Yasuo's face was visible above his collar now; the scar across his face, the slight scruff along his jaw. He spoke in a quiet, but very commanding tone.
"I have nothing left to lose."
"Indeed..." Was the response. "You do not have your previous life, Yasuo, but you still have your heart. Use it; it is the door to a new, better life."
Again, Yasuo was about to speak, but he felt the presence of wind magic once more. The old man was dissipating before him. Yasuo began to relax, standing back up straight again, as he watched the man fade away. He did not know what to make of this. He didn't want to know what to make of it. Shaking his head slowly, he began to despondently make his way to wherever his legs will take him. Yet, the moment the twigs began to break and crack under his feet again, hearing the cries of his former comrades, he suddenly wished he had someone to talk to again. Even if they didn't seem to make sense.
"I can't. I can't. I CAN'T." Riven's voice was frantic. Blood that wasn't hers was all over her hands. Three Demacian young children kneeled before her, restrained; prisoners of Noxus.
She avoided Singed's eyes as he spoke in his sadistic, smooth voice.
"Demacia failed to pay the ransom. They must die, Riven. If not to your blade, then my concoctions. My beautiful potions...they will work so very well..." Singed involuntarily laughed; it was a brief, maniacal sound.
"I..." Riven's voice cracked.
Suddenly, Singed got angry. The children began to cry. "KILL them, Riven." Singed's sadistic voice turned into a maniacal growl. "You call yourself a damned CRIMSON ELITE? You are a soldier. Trained by us. ELIMINATE.....KILL....THEM...."
Riven grabbed Singed by his collar with her free hand; her other hand tightly clenching the hilt of her blade. Singed did not flinch; in fact, it almost looked like he was smiling under the bandages covering his face. "I was trained to kill in battle, in war, with honor not..." She let go of Singed and gestured at the children. "Not like...this."
Singed was having none of it. He grabbed her sword arm, his eyes glowing green as the toxin tank in his back began to inject him with chemicals, empowering his muscles, allowing him to handle her with ease. She struggled fruitlessly. He growled his words once more. "DIE...THEY WILL DIE...THEY...WILL...DIE!" Maniacal laughter began to echo everywhere. His laughter was all over Riven. It was around her, within her, digging into her soul, jackhammering against her mind. Breaking her heart. He forced the blade closer...and closer...to the neck of one of the children. Riven struggled as hard as she could, then finally gave up, closing her eyes and turning her head away from the child. The tip of the blade got closer...
and closer...
...and closer...
...until she woke up.
She was sweating, panting, gasping. Her face turned from shock into a scowl. She clutched her bedsheets angrily. What she dreamt never actually happened...but it was a new nightmare every night. Every single night, damnit... she thought. It will never end...
She stood up and went to open the window. She desperately desired fresh air. The hotel she was staying in wasn't bad at all; a cozy place in the forest, not far from Ionia. The curtains wistfully flowed about her figure as she stared out into the darkening sky.
Suddenly, her door swung open. She searched around for her blade, then realized she left it by her bed. She was about to think about jumping out the window when-
"Excuse me? Ma'am? A-are you okay?"
It was the hotel manager. He wore a dark purple robe with a flowing golden design; a respectable noble, though far less influential and not even a fraction as powerful as a Champion. Riven sighed in relief, then angrily began to glare at him.
"I heard screaming. The other tenants must be scared, I just wanted to make su-"
Her glare turned into a scowl.
He stood awkwardly silent for a few extra seconds, then very kindly bowed and left her room, closing the door.
Riven fell down on her bottom, exasperated, her back against the wall. She looked up at the two thin, transparent curtains flowing above her from the outside wind. She closed her eyes for a few precious moments. I can't continue living like this, she thought. Something must happen...soon. Whatever she thought needed to happen in her life, she knew that she didn't want to stay in this hotel any longer. She stood, picked her blade up, then vaulted over the window and onto the twig covered grass outside. She had already paid her booking fee; on day one, in fact. She had overpaid for months worth of booking, as she was unsure how long she was going to stay, or when she was going to leave. She thought briefly about going back and getting her money, but she didn't really care. She just hoped the manager would find the rather large mountain of gold she left on her desk before he puts a bounty on her head.
Riven holstered her blade on her back, as she stared up at the canopy. The sun was too low now to shine its beautiful light through the leaves. Through some gaps, she could make out a few rain clouds. For once in a long time, Riven smiled. She loves the rain. Soon, she began on her way, to wherever it may be that an exile was going to wander.
The sound of a melancholy flute filled a clearing in the forest. So somber, yet so beautiful at the same time. You could feel that the music was coming directly from the soul; a broken soul. A yearning one.
Yasuo sat with one leg up with his back against a tree, his ponytail undone, allowing his long hair to flow down his back. His hair tie was wrapped around the hilt of his blade. He played his music for no audience but his own heart.
Suddenly, Yasuo began to hear a tapping sound over the sound of his flute. He stopped playing it; his fingers frozen in a note, his eyes darting rapidly around.
The tapping got louder.
And louder.
...a drop of rain fell on his flute.
It was raining. The sound was the rain hitting the leaves.
Yasuo let out a relieved sigh, placing his flute back on his belt.
Then he smiled.
He loved the rain.
He propped the back of his head on the tree trunk and saw every single drop of rain; at least the ones that managed to pass the gaps in the canopy. His trained eyes were able to track every one.
He began to count.
He lost count after three thousand. Not that he became distracted; he just fell asleep. He had been awake for the past two days.
For once in a long time, Yasuo slept without any nightmares. When he woke up and realized this, he knew he had the soothing rain to thank for that. The weather, as melancholy as his music, as his very being. Still; he didn't quite enjoy the fact that he was woken up by a pang for alcohol. He stood up, slightly groggy, reaching behind his belt for his trusty alcohol flask. As he picked it up, he knew simply from the feel of it that it was half full. Yasuo shrugged, not the type to conserve, and just decided to down the whole rest of the thing on the spot. Even so, it had no affect on him. The drink is as much of a part of him as his blade; one allows him to drown his sorrows, while the other has created them all. Tossing the flask aside, briefly stumbling before regaining his full, trained balance, he began to make his way towards what seemed like a town. Maybe there will be a bar.
There was a fair bit to do in the town of Veridia. It did not belong to any faction; nor to any country really. It is ran independent of Ionia, Noxus, Demacia, or any major city, as the lush forests that comprise the area are not of any strategic value to any nation. It is composed of normal people of the world of Runeterra, without the strength of Malphite or the vast history of Aatrox. In fact, these people tend to forget that such mythical beings actually exist in their world.
It made it so easy for Riven to hide her guilt. She looked like anyone else; only a fair bit prettier, and hefting a rather oddly shaped sword. Only those who can sense the trace of wind magic within her can see what lies beyond her beauty, and what she defends with her emotional and physical barriers.
It seems like a poetic coincidence that Yasuo would end up here as well. Not only to end up a city like this, but, to inevitably meet with someone like Riven. If he knew about it, he would surely be able to appreciate it poetically. Too bad he's in a bar buying every drink he could, with money he quite respectfully mugged from passers by during his travels. He licked his lips as he brought the next up near his mouth. Then he froze.
The doors to the bar opened; surely not the first time since he entered the Veridian bar, but this time, something was off about it. The wind blew in, sure enough as usual, but there was something else. Something in the wind. It felt blade-shaped. Yasuo's shoulders shivered, then he slammed his cup down and looked over his shoulder at the door.
It was nothing special. Just a girl with green armor and white hair. He smiled at her but she didn't notice as she made her way towards an empty table.
Yasuo's smile slowly waned with each step she took. Not because of the unknowing rejection; but something else. Something in her step. The wind around her blade. Something...
The fat man over the counter slammed his huge palm down in front of Yasuo, making him jump up in surprise. The man laughed heartily. Yasuo noticed a pin on the man's extremely tightly fitting suit that said "Tourist from Freljord."
"HAH HAH HAH. Scaredy cat. You gonna gawk at that lady or you gonna buy yourself another drink ehh?" He sounded condescending, yet somehow friendly at the same time. Genuinely friendly; which is why he was somewhat offended when Yasuo continued to ignore him.
"W-well ehm...a-are you at least gonna finish your drink? Eyy?" He brought up one fat finger to scratch his head in question.
Yasuo wordlessly stood up off of his stool and began to make his way towards the girl. His hand went near his blade. Something is off and he knows it.
The visiting bartender shrugged and drank Yasuo's drink. In one gulp. Then tossed it behind him, but since the cups are imbued with a small bit of magic, it bounced off and hit him in the head. "Ahhhww, what the hell?" He scratched the part of his head that was struck. Another man, a blonde, went up to him with a smirk.
"HAAA, brooo, I thought I'd never see you screw up like that again. You just made my whole life. AGAIN. AHAHHAA"
The voices became quieter as Yasuo drew further and further away from them until he finally reached Riven's table.
She knew he was close. But she didn't know what he wanted.
The closer Yasuo got to the girl and her blade, the more he felt the power; the magic of her sword. It HAS to be a Windblade. It has to be.
He got closer...and closer...
...Closer...
...Suddenly, Riven stood up and unsheathed her blade in a single motion, clashing with Yasuo's blade, which he drew in a moment's notice. They did not move. They did not even push their weapons against each other. Yasuo's eyes were narrow as he measured up Riven's skill with her blade, and Riven was glaring at the tall man with slightly scruffy facial hair who just got a little bit too close.
The bar immediately became quiet as the two clashed. People froze, and slowly began to leave. The fat man behind the counter began to speak in his gruff, loud, slightly condescending tone. "Now listen, I really can't have another bar fight in here, I'm covering for someone, and if they find out I've had THREE fi-" his blonde friend smacked his palm on the big man's mouth to quiet him, then began to tug on his huge arm, leading him out of the bar despite half-willed protesting from the fat man.
Yasuo spoke with a clear undertone of surprise. "You..." He realized that the two blades didn't actually connect. There is a faint flow of air between them. It can be seen by the naked eye. At the same time, the two warriors tried to push their blades against each other, to no purchase. The wind was too powerful between them. Both of their eyes narrowed at the same time, sliding their blades off of each other. As Riven slid her blade off of Yasuo's, she did a quick 360 spin to deliver another strike, which Yasuo blocked horizontally over his shoulder, kicking Riven back. He smirked as he apparently got a good hit, but Riven backflipped in mid air, her feet landing on the wall. Using wind magic, she propelled herself off the wall and went dashing through the air to Yasuo, her blade held horizontally, ready to cut through him.
Yasuo's eyes widened in surprise as his reflexes kicked in. He leaned back, really far, only able to keep himself on his feet by planting his sword into the wooden floor. He looked up at Riven as she flew past him. She was moving too fast to change the heading of her blade, but time was moving slow enough for the two to see each others' faces. Riven looked down at Yasuo, and he looked up at her. Their eyes...they held the same emotions. Loss. Guilt. Anger. Pain, neverending pain.
Riven landed on her feet on the other side of the bar. Yasuo flipped himself over his blade, then pulled it out from the ground. It shined in the torchlight as he slowly brought it over his shoulder. One foot forward, one back. His eyes were above the blade, looking at Riven.
The two had indeed shared a moment, but it was immediately set aside. What mattered now was finding out who the hell the other person was. Yasuo spoke, a voice of confrontation mixed with desperation: "Who taught you that technique?!?!"
Riven remained silent. Only gripping the hilt of her blade tighter.
Yasuo's voice became more forceful, more conflicted: "Are you from Noxus?!?"
Riven's eyes widened. Yasuo noticed this very well, then he closed his eyes. He sighed. He swung the hilt of his blade around his wrist in a circle a few times, then caught it, then suddenly slashed the wooden ground in front of him. A beautiful wall of wind rose up in front of him, short lived, but impressive. His eyes shot open. He yelled, conflict palpable in his voice. Conflict not only with Riven, but himself as well. "TELL ME WHO YOU ARE."
Riven whispered just loud enough for Yasuo to hear. "I am nothing. I have nothing."
Those last three words made Yasuo's heart skip a beat. But he did not have enough time to think as Riven dashed towards him, her blade glowing green. It must have been strengthened by her mobility. It was still easy to block, but he felt the power as it flowed from her blade when it struck his.
The wind flowed between the two blades, ever preventing them from meeting, but yet somehow, in some way, still touching. Yasuo hissed through the static air between the two warriors. "You killed him didn't you? You've heard the stories of me. You've read the news. You know who I am...And now, after all this time...I will have my revenge." Just as Yasuo finished speaking, Riven slid her blade off of his blade, and immediately ducked to dodge the incoming horizontal slash. He managed cut a single strand of her white hair. She performed a horizontal slash of her own, catching Yasuo as he tried to backflip away from the strike. He was not harmed; however he did hear a slight metallic clang of something falling onto the floor.
She cut his flute in half.
Yasuo did not have time to mourn the loss of his instrument as Riven whispered in determination. "The time for talk is over." Her blade suddenly grew in size, glowing a bright green, becoming visibly sharper. Yasuo felt infinitely more wind power exuding from her blade.
Yasuo sheathed his blade as Riven performed another lithe, rapid dash attack towards him. He held his hand out a few feet away from his sword hilt, his other hand hovering above his sheath. He watched, staying still, perfectly still, as Riven was soon about to land her strike on him.
She was getting closer. Her blade high in the air, reflecting a lit torch on the ceiling. Her figure in mid air as she flew towards Yasuo was oddly beautiful, despite its lethal inevitability.
For a moment, Yasuo felt like it would be okay to accept death. He closed his eyes. That he could die here and he would be happy...He could finally die, once and for all...He smirked under his high collar...There is nothing he wants more than that...
But for whatever reason, he decided against it. With his hand hovering above his sheath, his palm imbued with wind magic, he slammed his palm down on the sheath. His sword flew out, into his sword hand. His sword was glowing blue. The brightest, sharpest blue. The purest form of wind. Riven wasn't expecting this. It was too late to change her trajectory. She was about to die. She was about to get cut down.
She smiled. That she could finally die...it would make her so happy. There is nothing she wants more than that.
Yasuo's blade slashed across Riven's blade. It reverted to its standard form. The powerful strike knocked her off balance in mid air, causing her to fall down on her bottom. She wondered briefly why Yasuo didn't just simply cut her in half when he had the chance, but quickly set that thought aside as she brought her sword up to his abdomen, but she didn't go any farther when she realized the end of his sword was at her neck.
The two remained in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Gazing at each other. Measuring. Trying to see what they're feeling, trying to...understand.
After a few more moments, their sword arms began to quiver. Not because they were getting tired; no, they were far too well trained for that. It was something else. Something they didn't understand.
The words of the old man flashed back into Yasuo's mind.
Riven looked up at Yasuo. Only his eyes were visible from above his collar.
At the same time as Yasuo sheathed his sword, Riven dropped hers to the ground.
Yasuo began to walk away.
Riven didn't look up. She didn't ask where he's going. She just sat there. His footsteps got quieter.
And quieter.
Until she couldn't hear them anymore.
For a few more moments, she sat in silence, until she heard a quiet gust of wind behind her. Leaves flew about gently. She looked behind her and saw Yasuo. He had picked up the half of his flute that she cut off.
He offered it to her.
She just blinked at him. Unsure.
Yasuo had his eyes closed to fight back tears, but his voice was still so measured and soft. "I'm tired of running away. I'm tired of killing needlessly. I want to have something to protect."
Riven was still unsure. She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but as she looked up at him, she could sense something. That maybe, they weren't so different. That maybe, if they walked their paths together instead of alone, that they wouldn't be so miserable. And Yasuo...he knew that he lived to protect. To protect his countrymen and women, to protect his Elder, to defend the ones he cared about. Now, he understands the old man's words. He has found something to care about.
Riven was reluctant. Although she's definitely not happy living her life, she didn't want to change. She was...afraid. She stuttered slightly as she spoke. Her nails dug into the wooden floor of the bar. "B-but Yasuo...I...I killed...I...-"
Yasuo wind-dashed in front of Riven in a kneeling position, and he placed his fingertip on her lips. He spoke ever so quietly. "I forgive you."
Riven's eyes widened. Now she, too, was on the verge of tears. "No. You can't. I took your life away. You can't forg-"
His lips met hers. Perhaps not as romantic as it was just simply another way to get her to stop talking, but something about it, Yasuo enjoyed. He really did.
Riven enjoyed it too. Maybe even more.
Yasuo's hand caressed Riven's cheek during the kiss. He imbued his fingertips with wind, very small amounts, leaving cold traces on her cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Finally he pulled away and spoke once more. "I can't change my life if I don't forgive you. And you can't change yours if you don't accept my forgiveness."
Riven knew he was right. In fact, she wanted him to be right. Deep down she didn't want to live her life the way it's been, but she didn't want to accept it. She thought she could tough it out until the end of time. Maybe she could have, if it weren't for Yasuo. He held out his hand to her once more, with the half of his flute still in his palm.
She finally picked it up. She laughed half-heartedly. "You know, this probably isn't going to work..."
Yasuo smirked. "I'll buy a new one." He stood up, offering his hand to Riven. She accepted, using her other hand to pick up her sword and place it in her sheath. She pocketed the broken half of the flute.
Yasuo looked Riven in the eyes. Seeing his future. "What is your name?"
She responded confidently. "Riven. My name...is Riven."
Yasuo nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, hanging his head down in thought, before looking back at Riven, laying his hands upon her shoulders as he spoke. "Riven. From now on, our pasts are not our lives. From now on, our guilt, our anger, our pain, is to be healed by each other. Not by the drink..." Yasuo glanced at the drink he was going to have on the counter. He was rather confused why it was empty. "And not by running away, either. We need each other."
Riven is so used to being alone. Yet, to have someone with her level of skill, or even better, at her side? Living life with her...and making her forget the atrocities she's committed?
She can deal with being alone. But deep down, she much rather prefers this. A life of solitude, in a beautiful, out of the way town, with a man who needs her just as much as she needs him.
Riven embraced Yasuo tightly. The initial hit of her hug was so hard that Yasuo's long hair bounced slightly, and a bit of air was knocked out of him. It was telling of how much she needed to be held, so he wasted absolutely no second in holding her tightly.
She finally started crying.
Your past does not define you. What you look forward to, and the people you love, cherish, and spend your time with, will forever matter more.
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