Dear father, I write thee.
My dear father, I don't know...I can't know, what will be your feelings, reading this letter. I only know I've passed this whole night watching this portal, and the certainty that I would find you beyond it is as sweet as honey and as bitter as gall, at the same time. I can't come back. I can't, now.
I don't know how long will this portal stay open, I don't know either if time goes at the same speed for me as for you... who knows; Maybe you didn't even realize that I am not there, maybe there's only one cold and pale moon of ashes, the ashes of the dead, shining on what I used to call "home". I can't deny that this world is far different from ours; It is so different, that I would have laughed trying to imagine it...but I'm here now.
This place is a crossroad of strange kinds of magic, a world that ought to be explored, dominated by war. Men, in this snippet of universe, are thirsty for power, and glory, and they have very bizarre ways of creating a lasting-peace illusion. Sooner or later, the total war will begin, again. The only hope is in some entities, more or less human, some with great wisdom, the only lighthouse in this dimension as dark as the ebony.
You will wonder why I want to stay in a world so far away from the ideals with which you have brought me up: Father, I found a reason.
I had never realized how marble were the people in our world - the souls seemed to be carved into the stone - before I came across these men. Yes father, they are violent, greedy...and yet have a ductility and a fantasy superior to any form of magic.
And then, there he is. A young man, in fact, who happened to be here by accident like me. Smart, beautiful. It reminds me of the drifting of the Black Dalie, the waters of the sea that in their freedom, in their being fundamentally uncatchable, remain fugitive and quick.
Now I live in one place, they call it "Institute of War", and frankly the first days I lived here seemed to me like hell. They asked me if I wanted to fight....they told me they were the first to open the portal. They asked me if I would have put my life on the line for a greater ideal, for people I did not know and landscapes that my eyes will never see. I replied "no" with diplomacy, and I looked at the dreary spectacle of the arenas of justice. They are like places where small clashes, that are metaphors of the outside world, are being fought; Intrigued by a strange magic, it is impossible to die definitively, there ....but only the Blue Divinity knows how tremendous the show of death is. I had known him just the day before, when I saw him die, crushed by an ax. And I felt that there was something wrong with the humiliation of that beauty. And the more I knew him and the more I saw him die, and on my hands there were signs of suffering, for how strong I was holding my shield. And the more I saw him dying, the more in this world I had more long-lasting roots than the ones of blood, those of love.
Father, I knew Love.
I realized that perhaps those who lived with illusory peace were us. In a world where everyone has the same magic and mentality, peace is a deterrent, not a goal. Here, diversity allows war, and war allows peace. Here I understood what love means, what is felt by knowing that I will see him smiling again ,but that the pain I feel every time I see him die helpless will not pass easily. All I have is a shield, and a spell, but if I can defend him, I'll do it. I'll fight for Ezreal. And every time my shield will protect him from a fatal death, it will be a metaphor of every time that Love defends Beauty. He will probably never understand me, he's too undecided. And no one here seems to understand my nature. They understand my shield, though. And through it I will demonstrate the show of affection.
Farewell Father, Sapphires for Divinity.
-Taric.
(Chronicles of Valoran, I) ____________________________________________- Following Chapter: https://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/skin-champion-concepts/qVvRAypm-bitter-wind