The Lost series: Zelos the corrupted blade

(reposting since it was on the wrong board)

As a preface to this I have been playing since season 1 and the mysterious characters in lores that "Dissappeared" have always intrigued me. Namely Zelos brother to Irelia, and General Du Couteau Katarina/Cassiopeia's father.

Recently I decided well they might not get the justice they deserve since lores might be changing and I would be loath to see them not included in the game (personally) so I decided to write lores for each of them, who they were, why they stand out, and what happened to them.

There are only limited resources that can be used, but I believe that the lore/backstory for these characters is in line with what is written from both judgement, and lores.

I have attempted to recreate the style in which riot has most recently taken with their character lores. Sorry if its awful, i just gotta put this out there. Any and all comments are appreciated.

Zelos The Corrupted Blades.

Zelos is the missing heir to the Hiten style, Son of the Hiten master Lito, and older brother to Irelia, the will of the blades. Counted by many as a genius by his unique multiweapon swordsmanship, he was thought to be following the footsteps of his father in becoming an Elder in the Order of of the Lotus. After a desperate decision was made to seek Demacia’s help in fending off a Noxian invasion, he went missing. Yet not all that disappears is gone.

At a young age Zelos showed a great aptitude for weapon arts. Hardly finding pleasure in any one weapon he never fought with only one weapon. This odd fighting style seemingly was at odds with the Hiten style, as his father taught him each weapon was special, weapons were friends to the wielder, with their varied spirits. Taking this to an extreme in his childhood years he was often seen carrying a variety of mock weapons on his person as he wandered the town in his free time.

His mother however saw Zelos’ passion of variance as more than just a love for fighting, but one of adventure. From the moment he could read she would teach him about the wonders of the world, telling him of the might of her homeland Demacia, and the horrors of Noxus.

Even after his Mother’s death, while in labor with his younger sister Irelia, he still pursued his interest, studying the maps, lore, and history of the lands of runeterra. Hoping one day to explore outside of the tiny island of Ionia.

While grieved at his mother’s death, Zelos loved his younger sister. Hoping to pass their late mother’s love along, he would recount their mother’s tales and songs to Irelia. Yet she never took quite as much of an interest as he did.

When he reached the tender age of thirteen, Lito saw that even with his tutelage Zelos’ growth was stunted, needing more exposure than to just one opponent. An opportunity arose when an arrogant high classman sought to be taught the ways of Hiten. Instead turning him away, like the many others who had tried before him, Lito allowed his son Zelos to act as a defender of the sacred style. Opposed to all expectation, amidst the scattered weapons, Zelos stood bruised, yet triumphant over the man nearly thirty years his senior.

Over the course of the next ten years Zelos only ever failed once in a duel against one of these challengers. Forcibly forfeited by his father, Lito stood in his son’s place. Zelos watched in awe as the challenge devolved into a fancy deathmatch. He watched as the duel lasted through the night into the next day, only ending in a trade of blows. Proudly he watched as his father stood over the otherworldly foe, only to catch a small purple miasma enter through a small gash in his father’s arm. Assuming his father was invincible the young Zelos took little heed of the possible danger that could befall his father.

As time passed Zelos was passed the full responsibility to guard the Hiten style with his life. Secretly distraught with how quickly his father passed on the responsibility, he solemnly took the oath, yet held the desire to explore the world in his heart. Hoping one day his younger sister would be able to stand in his place. Luckily for Zelos, like him Irelia showed an aptitude for swordplay, defending the Hiten style, at the age of sixteen, herself.

Yet regardless of their combined strength, they could never land a blow against their father. That is until it was too late for them to take pride in it. Upon finally striking his father for the first time in training he sensed something awry. Not long after calling a physician, they learned of the terrible news that their father, Lito, was dying. Even with their vast fortune, and ties in Demacia, they couldn’t find a healer powerful or wise enough to save their ailing father from this brooding curse. Recalling the incident at the duel, he blamed himself for the loss of his father’s life.

After the loss of both his father, Zelos became resolute to never lose another family member again. Deepening his studies and training in an effort to be able to protect Ionia, the Order of the Lotus saw his potential, inviting him to fill in the hole left by his deceased father. Nurturing his still growing potential they helped him find his father’s scrolls. With the scrolls Zelos and Irelia were able to advance their training in Hiten Style even without their father’s guidance.

After a time a few began to believe Zelos’ acceptance into the Order of the Lotus as a tribute to his father. Insulted by degradation others began to place on the Hiten household, he joined the military in an effort to prove the Hiten style was still one of the pillars of Ionia, quickly rising through the ranks to become a sargent.

Eventually the council found their scholarship with Zelos was not wasted. When threats of a Noxian invasion hounded their minds, Zelos spoke up offering to be a liaison between Demacia and Ionia to help fend off the Noxians. At first many of the elders were opposed to seeking help from another country, assuming Demacia would try to grab land once their treaty was over. However with enough pressure Zelos was finally able to get the entire council to see reason. Considering his dual nationality and family ties in Demacia, the elders finally relented.

As Zelos was preparing to leave, word came that Noxus had begun a blockade on the usual trade route to Piltover. Instead of being deterred Zelos opted for another route, through the ancient ruins of Icathia. The Elders attempted to dissuade Zelos saying it was a fool's errand, but his resolve was set in stone. Leaving his sister Irelia in charge of their house, he left quickly.

Arriving on the twisted shores of Icathia, he could feel the warped nature that ruined the world around him. In his attempt to traverse the cursed city as quickly as possible, he instead got himself lost in the ruins. Before he knew where he was going, the world around him turned a deep purple. Many horrific creatures meandered the lands constantly seeking to dominate one another, their vicious nature showed him what the world truly had to fear.

To his horror he was unable to find his way out of the cursed landscape. Slowly the void ate at his consciousness. He could feel the corruption echo through his veins stronger with each day that he remained.

Ultimately he fought his way out of the void, although he was not as he once was. His skin shone with the essence of the void, his weapons warped by its power, his mind corrupted. Now he wanders the lands of Runeterra, in an eternal nightmare as his spirit fights it an eternal battle against the corruption.

Homecoming

A full moon illuminated the path in front of Zelos as he walked down the familiar path. It had been a few years since he last wandered this path. The path had been both a comfort in times of difficulty and in times of calm. He chuckled to himself as he remembered those times he would charge off in an attempt to hide from his father to avoid training as a child. Not that he had hated the training entirely but he never had been one content with repeated cycles.

Soon the path opened up into a giant grass field. The moon illuminated the wild grass field surrounding a large stone wall. He could make out the tops of houses that slightly jutted over the rim of the wall. Smoke billowing out from the chimneys reminded him of the season. It was late enough in the year to be cold, although Zelos believed his fiery spirit must have nullified the chill.

The sword by his side shivered in anticipation. Patting the hilt to calm it down, he could only agree with the sentiment. Being home was almost more than he could handle. The sword had been a special gift from his father on his deathbed, meant to be a protection for the powerless and innocent. Originally supposed to be a surrogate sword until his father’s sword accepted him, now he saw it as a part of himself. Maybe this was what his father ultimately wanted. “We are finally home.” He said patting his sword again.

Tracing his hand along the side of the wall, Zelos thought it was a pity that they felt the need to build such a structure around the village. He remembered sitting on the steps outside his father's house with Irelia being able to see the luscious forests and hills that were outlined with the sunset. At the very least he was thankful that the village was still in one piece.

“I heard it was a man that destroyed Karaj” A strange voice echoed from the gate house. Followed by a loud hiccup and a loud shushing noise.

“Druan you are too drunk to remember the story. There is no way a man could destroy it by himself, musta been one of those void creatures.” A fellow drunken voice argued.

The two drunked guards turned to meet Zelos as he approached the front gate. Zelos could smell the alcohol on their breath as he approached. The several bottles that littered the floor soaking in a thin layer of wine further proved his suspicion. A quick glance at their armor told him they were definitely not Ionian. Zelos gritted his teeth in anger. His village was no longer Ionian. He had once again failed to save those special to him. The very least he could do was get revenge.

“Hey Druan he looks funny don’t he?” The fatter of the two guards pointed his stubby finger at Zelos.

“That must be the alcohol. I think we drank too much again.” The Druan laughed then hiccupped. Staggering over to Zelos, he slapped a hand on the Zelos’ shoulder. “Sorry, the gate is closed to all except citizens of the city. You’ll have to come back…” Druan slouched over as the glistening long sword pierced his stomach.

“Druan, you alright there? You shouldn’t sleep on the guests” The remaining guard was able to expel one last laugh before Zelos slit open his throat. Glistening purple and deep red blood mixed with the dirt soaking the two lifeless bodies.

Zelos felt the sword shiver again in his hands. He couldn’t help but feel badly for the sword. His anger mingled with sorrow, not only for the loss of his home, but also because of the desecration of his sword. Yet it didn’t diminish his fury.

Racing through the village he dispatched the few patrol units, hoping to hide his presence for as long as possible. None of the guards lasted for longer than a second as his blade diced them to pieces. Each kill causing the blade to shiver more violently.

Standing on the ramparts he could see a trio of men playing cards around a table. A small candle offering the light needed for their game. Lightly stepping over he surveyed the area to ensure the ambush would be clean. After waiting a few moment he took the quick step forwards, liberating the trio of men from their heads. A loud scream from the house shattered the silence. Zelos saw a woman in her nightgown fall backwards in fear. Silencing the ear piercing alarm, he readied himself for the swarm of Noxian scum.

Several men emerged from the houses around, most in their night gear, rubbing away sleep from their eyes. Not waiting from them to understand the situation, he quickly dispatched the closest few to him, their blood splattering the houses they stood in front of. A few were able to reach swords before they were quickly cut down. Their shoddy swordsmanship only allowed them a brief moment of self-empowerment before leaving the world.

A horrified woman stumbled backwards into one of the lamps that lined the streets igniting her house. The flames quickly spreading to the nearby houses. With each foe that fell, their weapons added to Zelos’ battlefield. He could hear each weapon cry in pain as he swung it. Tears streamed from Zelo’s face with each stroke of his sword. His bladed dance waving goodbye to his childhood home as it quickly burned to the ground.

Zelos panted as he cut down the last of those who opposed him. Dropping to his knees, he let the axe he held in his other hand drop to the ground, lost in the ocean of bodies and metal. He could feel the strength ebbing from his limbs as he gasped for air. Raising his head, he screamed at the heavens, cursing the horrible fate that encompassed his life. First his mother, then his father, and now Irelia. How much more would this world take from him?.

A heavy rain poured upon the burning city. At least the heavens knew to cry with him. Zelos sat in the rain letting it clean the blood from his sword and clothes trying to regain his breath. Wobbling to his feet he noticed a hooded figure watching him quietly. Forced his legs to hold him up pointing his sword at the supposed opponent. Slowly his fathers blade floated out from behind the cloak forming a shield.

Praying for strength he lunged at the heathen who would dare use his father’s sword. Grabbing a spear from the ground, he swung it with what strength he could muster..

Gracefully the sword sprung to life parrying his spear jab, knocking it out of his weak clutch, then floated in front of the hooded enemy as a guard. Grabbing a shield in desperation he ran at the sword hoping to knock it aside. He could feel as the floating sword separated from the force of his weight plowing into it. It surprised him so much that he tripped over his own feet crashing into the muddy street.

Irelia’s long blue hair draped down over her shoulders as she pulled the hood off her head.

“Zelos, is that you?!” Irelia cried out as she embraced her brother.

Zelos could feel a bit of panic overwhelm him as he realized just who he had been trying to fight.

“Im so sorry I couldn’t make it back in time. Im so sorry.” Zelos repeated to his sister as he embraced her back.

“Don’t fear Zelos. Our home is safe.”

“This doesn’t look safe to me.”

“Where do you think we are?” Irelia inquired, confused at her brother’s response. As if looking through glasses for the first time, the town changed. Zelos could tell the burning structures weren’t of Ionian construct; in fact the forest he had walked through wouldn’t have even existed outside of his home town. He looked around at the bodies that littered the city, caused him to feel sick to his stomach.

Suddenly it all came back to him. The arrival off the shores of Icathia, getting lost in the ruined city where he sought shelter from a storm, the creatures that swarmed the place and the realm called the void. He recalled the city Karaj and the bloodbath he had created there. He gripped his head as it ached from the remembrance. Before either of them could react a void portal consumed Zelos entirely.

When Zelos awoke he looked above himself to see the moon hovering in the crisp night air. Looking around he found a familiar beaten path nearby. He knew where he was, he was home...

As references I used http://gameinfo.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/game-info/champions/irelia/ http://forums.na.leagueoflegends.com/board/showthread.php?t=339174&page=1#post4041504