The Ever-Rose, A Story for an Upcoming Champion Concept.

“Tell me the story one more time, papa,” “I suppose, but after I have to work. Sit down, lass.”

“A boy grew up on the docks, he had no other option but to skip around from crew to crew,” “He was you!” The daughter giggled. “He was me,” The man chuckled in nostalgia as he remembered various occasions that were too vulgar to tell his mere eight year old lass. “And finally your father joined a crew of a brig meant for cargo, not battle, and your father finally found a crew that could be called family, so he stayed there the longest,” He looked at the small darkwood box on the table and sighed, he then looked at his fascinated daughter and a smile crossed his face once more. “One day, what seemed to be a wealthy man approached our captain and asked for one thing. A flower, in a land where there are none,” The man scratched his chin and stroked his full blonde beard. “Not any flower, papa!” the daughter shouted. “No… No not any flower at all. A single rose, on top of a mountain of snow,” He looked in her eyes, curious if she remembers that he told her what snow is. Her sea-blue eyes seem to glisten with the shine of memory. She remembered. “Sooo? Did you go?” The lass asked, the suspension overwhelming her. “We weren’t going too, but he offered sacks and sacks of silver serpents and golden krakens, so we set sail that very night. I… Can’t remember how long the voyage was, but it seemed like months,” The daughter’s jaw dropped. For her, a few months seemed like an eternity. “So, what was it like when you got there?” The daughter asked, her impatience foaming out her ears. “What was what like?” The father asked being coy. “Papaaaa come onnn,” The lass groaned. “Oh, oh it's all coming back. It was harsh once we beached, the sand replaced with snow, the warm air and sea foam replaced with angry winds and ice,” The father lost himself expounding upon his visits to Freljord. “Papa how big was the mountain?” The child asked. “Bigger than 3 galleons stacked on top of each other!” The daughter made a gasp of awe. The father chuckled once more and shifted his legs in his rocking chair, having his chair rock as each wave of the waters hit the exterior of their own brig. “However, any trip like this is dangerous. So, the captain armed us. Most had firearms, but he gave me that very sword. It was made with the essence of the Frost Lands. It was pain on the ol’ arms, but it was effective.” The father pointed at the blade mounted on a wall. But then, his face went null. “The mountain… claimed a lot of friends. But, we reached the summit. And there the Ever Rose was. It was as red as my eyes could witness. My captain ordered to pluck it, which I did, and I stored it within my belt, near my belt buckle,” The man shook off the burden which is sorrow and glanced at his daughter, and his smile was restored. “However, on the way back, the wealthy man was swallowed by the mountain, as well.” “So the trip was for nothing?” The daughter shouted “Aye, but here’s the thing. The captain let me keep it,” He grabbed that small dark wood box, and opened it. Within, a beautiful bright red rose, despite the years since it plucked and it being stored within the chest. The daughter shrieked with awe and surprise. The father chuckled once more and slowly put it within her hair, just above her right ear. “When we arrived at familiar docks, I made my way to anywhere with a drink. And that anywhere I met a foreign lass, my age, from a fancy-dancy place she called Piltover,” He said with breath that was filled with happy memories. “She was mama?” The daughter asked. “She was mama,” The father confirmed. “She was lovely, and stubborn. But, your birth drained her of life. I had just lost everything. Except, I now had you. So I named you, Rose. That’s when my life turned around I bought my own cargo brig, bought the slaughter docks, and became a rather wealthy man” The man sighed. “Is that the end?” Rose asked. “That’s it. Now I must go, those workers take breaks whenever they aren’t supervised,” He ruffled the hair on his daughter’s head and exited his ship.

Charles Hackett leaned on a wooden wall as he watched his workers work, then a loud boom. And then another. And then another. The sound he knew too well. Cannons. He was shocked, even more so when he saw a silhouette of a little girl running towards the slaughter docks, running towards Hackett.

“Papa! Papa! The Reaver King’s ship! It’s in battle!” The silhouette cried. It was Rose. He ran to her, grabbed her hand, and sprinted to the docks, the booms of cannon fire still echoed in the air.

They reached the docks, to see nothing but the sea filled with boards and bodies. Even his ship, was gone. He saw a speckle of red, he watched it wash up to the sea foam-filled shores. He picked up to see it was the rose. _How? Rose had it on her_, he thought to himself.

“Papa?” Rose asked. “Yes, lass? Her father responded “I didn’t make it out of there… did I?” Her voice trembled in Hackett’s ears. It was as if she wasn’t with him at all. “No… No I do not think you did,” He sat down on the damp dock. He turned to look at his daughter, to see she wasn’t there. He saw his blade in sea foam, as well. So, he picked it up wearily. He sat there for two days, what Rose would call an eternity.

“So what now papa?” Rose asked, her image sat down with him. He knew it wasn’t her, but it comforted him nonetheless. He sighed wearily. “We take...you… to the frost lands,” He said. He has found his purpose, to place the ever rose back on the same mountain it emerged. He put the heft blade on his back, and the rose near his belt buckle. He reached his hand out to the lass, and she held it. To which the walked away from the horrors at the docks. Witnesses would call him odd, for stretching his arm out as if holding nothing. But, he decided they were odd. Freljord awaits.

“Can you tell me the story again, papa?” “I suppose I can, aye,”