A Kindred Soul

Hey guys, this is a short story centering around one of my favoirte champions in the game, Kindred. I really hope you enjoy as I am incredibly proud with how this piece of writing turned out~ The main character in this is based off of the young man we saw in the kindred loading screen

As the young adventurer lay on the ground, blood flowing from a deep gash on his leg, he heard two voices echo from within the shadows of the forest a few feet in front of him.

“Choose now young soul.” Whispered a soft voice, the sound reminding Killian of silver bells. “Will it be my arrows?”

“Or my teeth?” growled a second, much fiercer, voice, the sound reminisce of the Freljordian Timber Wolves he had encountered on one of his previous explorations.

He quickly tried to distance himself from the dark forests edge, but the sharp throbbing pain in his leg stopped him.

“There is no use in running, we will always find you.” The bell like voice chimed. Killian sank against the boulder behind him and closed his eyes.

Had his life really come to this? He thought about the events that led him here. He had been trekking through a swath of Valorian forests when he came upon a cliff. Just over the edge something glinted and caught his eye, and as he leaned over to attempt a closer look, the ground gave way beneath him. As he fell down the short cliff face, a jagged bit of rock sank into his leg and tore open a deep ragged wound. He was knocked out, but he wasn’t certain for how long. When he awoke, he was greeted by two pairs of glowing eyes in the forest. He convinced himself he was hallucinating because of the blow to his head.

Suddenly, he felt very cold, a sense of dread began to coil like a serpent around his body. All he wanted in life was to be a great explorer like his idol Ezreal of Piltover. But now… he was sitting here, bleeding out, and faced with a choice he never thought he would have to make. He had heard talked of a reaper pair that roamed the forest, but he always thought it to be a tale mothers told children to keep them from straying into the forest.

“If you choose my arrows, your death shall be swift and gentle, for my aim is true.” said the soft silvery voice.

“If you choose my teeth your death will be bloody and messy, for I have a hunger that will never be sated.” Snarled the other voice viciously. The glowing eyes appeared once again, illuminating the obscuring blackness around them. A small white creature walking on hooved feet, carrying a bow carved out of some ancient wood, and wearing a black wooden mask. As he looked upon the creature Killian noticed it was heartbreakingly beautiful in it’s own way. A soft snow white glow radiated from it, casing light over something circling her, and stealing side glances at the boy.

The second being was a black as an abyss, and devoid of all light. It had the face and head of a wolf, yet the second half of its body looked as if it were made of smoke and shadows. Killian had brushed lips with death many times before in his adventures. But this… this felt different. Real, concrete, as if Death was finally coming to claim what rightfully belonged to her. Tears began to fall down his face as he closed his eyes. The world around him fell silent, the only sounds were his shallow breathing and the various nocturnal insects that were waking up as the moon rose.

“Well, do you have your decision?” both voices asked in unison, the sound reverberating to his very core. Inhaling he opened his eyes, and Killian Varat looked at the two Reapers of Death in front of him.

“I do.”

End.