[Story] A Fallen Empire... and a Tragic Return
He shifted along quietly, making no sound as his feet moved along the sand of the harsh desert. The sun above him scorched the earth, but he didn't feel it. Once again, he reflected on what had just happened. All at once, Shurima rose from the grave. His brother and the insane monster who drove him to madness were out there. It all started with that girl, Sivir. If she had not gone looking for the Shuriman tomb, none of this would have happened. "No," he said to himself, "If I had been able to stop him... none of this would have happened."
He thought back to that fateful day in Shurima once more.
Everything was set. Azir was planning on using the Ascension ritual to give himself immortality. However, looking at that fateful day, he now understood why. It wasn't until after did he realize that his emperor was being manipulated by his young servant, the man known as Xerath. At first, he seemed so inconspicuous. A loyal friend to the emperor Azir, a voice of reason to the young king's often rash decisions. He had brown hair, he remembered, and startlingly green eyes. Always holding a scroll in one hand and a pen in the other, Xerath always seemed to have a new idea at hand. There was no doubt he was smart, but he was also a kind man. He would often go around the kingdom, talking to the poor and often giving some gold to them, despite him having little gold to begin with. Azir didn't give him much, despite him being the most trusted friend of the emperor, yet he really did seem to be a good man still, at least at first.
However, over time, Xerath changed. Azir didn't see it, but he did. The occasional glance at Azir with a face of anger. His fists tightenning as Azir entered the room. The way he would smile towards the king, then turn away muttering. At first, it seemed as if it were simply a coincidence. But when Azir announced to his subjects he would undergo the Ascension ritual once more, his suspicions grew. He began to see Xerath less and less around Azir, and finally, he knew what he had to do.
He had to confront his emperor.
The day before the Ascension, he entered the emperor's throne room, where the young man was talking to one of his other advisors. The windows poured sunlight into the room, causing the golden throne to cast a brilliant light outwards. The tall stone walls were etched with ancient stories of the first king of Shurima. The wooden ground was mostly covered in sand. The footprints of Azir remained etched in the sand from his walk to and from the throne. Looking around, he noticed Xerath was nowhere to be seen. This was his best chance to speak to Azir.
Upon entering, the emperor said something indiscernible to the adviser, who nodded and walked out.
Azir smiled as he approached and said, "Ah, my friend! What might bring you here on this wonderful day?"
He answered, "My emperor. I come here with a warning. I understand you plan to become ascended through the Ascension ritual?" Azir nodded and replied, "Yes, indeed. As a matter of fact, my most trusted friend gave me the idea. 'Become ascended. Take your rightful place as true king of Shurima.' And thinking on it, I decided he's correct. I am destined to be the leader to bring Shurima to even farther greatness!'
So it was true. Xerath had convinced him to take the Ascension ritual. He had to convince him that this was a poor idea.
"With all due respect, emperor, I do not think this a wise move. The Ascension ritual is only to be used when absolutely needed. And as for your advisor, I do not trust him. I believe him to be attempting to use you for something else. Perhaps for his own gain."
Looking at him with contempt, Azir asked, "And what proof might you have of this?"
He replied, "I... I do not have any direct proof." before adding, "But I fully believe he is planning something. Emperor, please listen."
Azir stood up from his throne and yelled angrily, "How dare you come here and not only oppose my wishes, but accuse my closest friend of treachery with no evidence! I've known him for many years, and in that time he has proven faithful and dependable!"
He shifted back. "That may be simply his ruse. After all, he is still your servant. He may be attempting to-"
Azir cut him off. "Stop! I refuse to hear any more of this! I order you to leave my throne room immediately! And on my day of Ascension, you and your brother are now to guard the borders, as punishment for your blatant disrespect!"
"Emperor, I-"
"Leave here, before I summon the guards!"
His hand tightened around his staff. He knew fully well he could best even the toughest of soldiers, but it would make no difference. The emperor still wouldn't listen. With a final sigh, he walked out, watched vigilantly by the nearby guards.
Visualizing that moment again, he knew he should have went back in there. Went and forced Azir to see reason.
But instead, he left and went back to his guard post. Passing by his brother, he felt a small bit of hope. At the very least, there was one person who listened to him.
"Brother," he spoke in a raspy voice, "What happened?"
He responded, "It's just as I feared. He didn't listen. He believes his servant, Xerath to be a good man. For he does not see how he is simply being used."
"But we can still guard him. We will be there for his Ascension if anything were to happen."
"I'm afraid that is no longer the case, brother. We have been sentenced to guard the borders while his Ascension happens."
His brother angrily spat, "That arrogant fool. He's nothing but a pawn to Xerath, and yet he thinks they're friends."
He paced a few steps forward and quietly replied, "Perhaps... perhaps Azir is right. Perhaps Xerath really is a good man. I could be misjudging him. After all, he has shown himself to be a smart and generous man."
His brother gravely said, "Until power is involved. I highly doubt Xerath, with all his experience, would persuade Azir to go through the Ascension ritual without some sort of plan."
Again, he paced a few steps forward. It really did seem odd, that Xerath would suggest this with no context. But, it wasn't like they could do anything now. They had been ordered to guard the borders now, and there was almost no chance of getting the emperor to change his mind.
"It doesn't matter. We can't stop him now. All we can do is hope for Azir's survival. I admit, I do not like him much, but I would rather he live on as Ascended than have Shurima torn to ruin over the death of a king."
Renekton angrily swung his large blade against the ground, cutting a large gash across the sand.
"If that bastard tries anything, I'll cut him to pieces and bury him for all eternity."
Replying with a solemn nod, he walked on, further into the desert. No one would dare ever attack Shurima, so there was no reason to guard. He remembered what his brother had told him. There was no way Xerath simply told Azir to go through the Ascension ritual. It just didn't add up. Xerath was planning something.
He turned and looked back at the towering buildings of Shurima. He wondered if this was the last time he would see them. With the burden of knowing that the empire he knew for so long may be torn apart in moments, he walked on, with only his staff and his thoughts to accompany him.
He remembered it clearly.
A cry of pain from the emperor, along with a low and twisted laugh. Xerath's laugh. Then screaming, thousands and thousands of voices screaming.
Rushing back to Shurima, he saw the sun disk was shining a bright light down on the entire kingdom. It was in pure chaos as people were obliterated instantly by the blinding light.
And hovering in the beam of light was a monstrosity unlike anything he had ever seen. A figure, barely humanoid, seeming to be made of pure malevolent energy. The thing laughed as it fired bolts from its entire body that turned structures to rubble in seconds.
"Foolish mortals!", it laughed maniacally from above, "Your king is nothing now. I am the Ascended! I will control all!"
It was Xerath.
He used the Ascension ritual to give himself the ultimate power, and in the process destroyed all of Shurima.
He saw the glint of a blade below among the rubble of fallen buildings, and quickly recognized his brother, rushing towards Xerath.
"Brother!", he yelled, "What are you doing?"
"I'm ending this!" he yelled back, and he saw that his brother was holding a pair of chains.
Nasus leaped forward, towards Xerath, and swung his staff.
It went straight through him, and almost instantaneously, Xerath summoned a great bolt of energy and fired at him. He fell back, onto the stone ground of Shurima's streets, which was now burning hot.
Standing up, he saw that his brother had secured the chains around Xerath's body. It seemed that they may be able to restrain him after all. Xerath struggled, then went limp.
And just as his brother let his guard down, Xerath let out a gigantic burst of arcane energy, shattering the chains and knocking his brother back.
He looked again to see that Xerath had broken the chains, however bits and pieces of them still remained attached to him, holding him down.
"You insolent, pitiful, excuses for Ascended! I will tear you apart!"
Just then, before Xerath could even act, his brother leaped back up into the air and grabbed onto Xerath, pulling him down from above. Xerath madly fired bolts of energy, but he maintained trapped. He joined his brother in holding him down.
"You will all be destroyed! Your ashes will scatter this barren wasteland for centuries to come!"
"We must get to the sarcophagus! Now!"
Struggling along with their prisoner, the brother made it to the sarcophagus. But they realized that they couldn't hope to trap him in there. He was just too strong. His arcane power seemed limitless.
His brother looked back at him, with an angry look. Then he grabbed Xerath and dragged him into the sarcophagus.
"Brother, what have you done?"
"I told you, I'm ending this. Seal the door, now!"
Xerath fired off another wave of energy bolts along the walls, causing them to shake violently.
"No! I can't allow this! I can't allow you to be trapped here with him!"
"There's no other way, brother! I have to do this!"
His hands trembled. It had been ages since he felt this feeling, but it finally returned.
Fear. He felt fear.
"Brother! I can't hold on! SEAL THE DOOR!"
He looked at his brother's face one last time.
Then, he lifted the massive door back on, trapping his brother forever with a madman.
For ages, he wandered the desert land. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. He and his brother were alive, but they might as well be dead. His brother had been entombed for centuries with a being of pure hatred and insanity, and he wandered the desert aimlessly, carrying the memories of a ruined kingdom. He was alone and the last of Shurima.
Or so he thought.
Walking alone along the sand, he sensed something was horribly wrong. He felt his brother's presence, a feeling he had not known since the day Shurima fell.
But what was worst was the sound of the blade, cutting across the sand.
He already knew who was behind him before he turned.
"Renekton."
He had not uttered that name for so long, it seemed foreign to his tongue.
"You... you... you treacherous bastard! It was you who trapped me in that tomb. You betrayed me! I'll rip you apart in my jaws!" he spat with hatred in that same raspy voice.
Renekton swung his wickedly sharp blade at him, and he deflected it with his staff.
Looking at his brother, he saw his eyes were red, his armor torn and battered, and his entire body poised like a cornered animal, rabid and chaotic.
It was his brother, and yet he knew that the brother he knew was gone. This was what was left after centuries of madness.
"My... brother. Please, do not do this. Remember that day. Remember when you sacrificed it all to stop him. Remember your heroic effort. Do not let this anger consume you, I beg of you. Remember."
"The only thing I remember is your betrayal, and I'll return the favor with my blade!", Renekton yelled, once again slashing with his giant blade. He felt it graze his arm, and a newfound anger rose inside of him. This... this thing. It wasn't his brother. It was just something manifested in his brother's body, a demon of hatred that possessed this body.
He turned towards his brother, who was now frothing at the mouth, blade in hand, and declared, "You are not my brother. You are the deepest hatred and anger that dwells inside of him. I know that you may think that you are Renekton, but know this. My brother's spirit will one day shine again, and you will be burned away. The friend I once knew will return."
With that, he turned and began to walk away. Renekton stood there for a moment, his mouth open in disbelief. Then he let out a bloodthirsty howl and charged straight for his brother with all his might.
He knew there was no point in fighting Renekton. Neither he nor his brother could be killed, truly. And even if he found a way to kill his brother, it would bring nothing but more shame and guilt. So instead he simply stopped, and uttered a few words.
"Goodbye, Renekton. One day I will set you free."
With those words, he threw down his staff into the sand. A great circle of age-old spiritual energy erupted around Renekton. It wasn't enough to defeat him by any means, but it gave enough time for the friend turned foe to flee, leaving his brother screaming and swinging his blade wildly.
After that, he went on treading the sands of the Shuriman Desert, but with a newfound feeling. His grief was replaced with a mix of anger and fear. Before, he believed there was no hope for his brother. All he could do was walk forward, day by day, knowing he had no end. But now, Renekton had returned. He was determined to extinguish the root of this hatred in his brother, but a dreadful question loomed over him. What if Renekton was just too far gone to be saved? Centuries of torment by that madman had certainly taken their toll on him. He remembered his brother's blade hitting his side, the fury in his eyes as he cursed the long-lost friend who he believed betrayed him. Walking on for ages, he remembered every last detail, just as he did for eons before.
But above all that, above the fighting, above his brother's appearance, even above saying his name for the first time in ages, there was one thing that remains and haunts him to this day as he walks along the desert.
And that was his brother, Renekton, screaming that name. His name.
Nasus.
Alright, so this is a repost of the the lore story I wrote with some minor edits. It generally covers the events of Shurima's fall and rise through another set of eyes. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, please leave them below. Thanks!