Rise of the Darkin: 3

Chapter 2: Immortal nightmares Darkness envelopes me for longer than I can comprehend. Pain is ever-present, almost a living thing. I don’t know when I will wake up, if ever. I hear screams, though I cannot tell if they are my own or not. Light begins to appear, like a sun rising, but the light is cold and cruel I see a boy begging his father to tell him another story. The father laughs “that’s two stories already. Now time for sleep.” “But,” whispers the boy, pulling the covers up beneath his eyes, “what if the monsters get me?”. His eyes betray fear that can only be felt by the very young The father chuckles. “That was just a story,” he says, sitting down lightly at the edge of the boy’s bed. “Even if you have a bad dream, those monsters from the story can never hurt you, alright? It’s all make-believe. They aren’t real.” He leans down to kiss his son’s forehead, but the boy shrank back from him “What?” he chuckles. “Too old for a kiss?”. His chuckle dies as the boy keeps sinking into the bed. The child sinks lower and lower, as though a pit has opened up beneath the mattress. The boy cries out as the blanket wound tight around his body. It started to glisten, becoming slick and wet as it morphs into a red, spotted tongue. The man reaches out for his son, struggling to get hold of the boy and pull him out. But the tongue only winds tighter, sliding deeper down. The edges of the bed splinter with a sharp crack. Jagged spars of wood rise, turning sharp and yellow as they calcify into fangs. The entire frame is transforming into a gigantic, hideous maw, poised to devour the boy whole. “son!” the man cried, staggering as he began to retch. Coils of dark mist feathered from his nose and lips, rising to swirl above the changing bed like a gathering storm. The maw flexes, yawning wide as it released a deafening, blood-curdling scream. It is neither the roar of a great predator nor the howl of a beast gathering its kin for the hunt. It sounds like a birthing cry… almost as if it were in agony “Papa!” the boy screamed before he vanished from sight. In an instant darkness devours the room as quickly as the bed had devoured the boy The pain returns joined by mental anguish as I remember the terrified face of the father as his son was devoured. Is any of this real? I cannot feel my arms or legs, so I cannot charge my gauntlet or attempt to fire or teleport. Darkness The pain fades as if siphoned by some unholy beast. Oblivion threatens to take me once more, to drag me back to silence. But before the darkness can claim me, the pain returns once more. I am choking, how this can happen when it appears I have no body I cannot know, But the air has left my nonexistent lungs, leaving me in agony. I want to scream, But I have no mouth to convey such sounds. I try to pry whatever is around my neck, but I have no arms and no neck. Agony becomes the only sensation I can comprehend. Are the Noxians doing this? Are they injecting Zauntie chemicals into me to induce these horrific nightmares? Are they strangling me while I sleep, Grinning as my unconscious form gasps for air before finally going still. Then light returns to the shadowy hell, dragging me from the agony that has gone on for who knows how long. I am looking at a battlefield, dying men scattered across the frozen terrain. I can see conflicts in the distance, the same armies throwing themselves at each other again and again, Oblivious to the many fallen that they trample while doing so. The sky is a cold grey, the color of the steel that makes up most of Zaun. Snow falls from the sky, Bordering sleet, that signals that this battle is taking place in the Freljord. Whether the armies are Freljordian I cannot say, but they must be massive to be still able to fight, with all the dead that surround them. Something unnatural is coming, I can feel it. The snow seems to bend away from it, The ground recoils from its touch. I see two armies fighting Nearby, and somehow, I know that they are all doomed. I catch a glimpse of the beast, but not a clear look, not until it is upon the unfortunate soldiers. It stands 20 feet tall, armor plating most of its body, Massive wings extending from its back, horns protrude from its head Terrifying and jagged, Blood drips from its form like water from a common warrior. A massive Two-handed sword is clutched in its fist, glowing blood-red. It cleaves through a line of maybe 20 soldiers, Separated from the rest of the battle, in a single swing. The creature laughs, a cruel sound that Evokes Despair. Some soldiers run for their lives, some stand their ground. The beast gazes at the remaining soldiers and speaks. “bow worms, bow before the world Ender.”, its voice is alien and cruel. Some more soldiers realize the danger and flee, but those who remain step forward. The creature laughs “you would fight me? Come, let me show you, hell.” The creature throws itself into battle, devoid of fear, the massive blade cleaving through soldiers in massive cleaves. It pauses its hand glowing with evil magic, and a line of soldiers screams simultaneously, their flesh, blood, and bone melting, fusing with the abomination that had slain them. With the Last of the soldier’s dead or fleeing the monster turns, its eyes searching for something, then it raises its sword and swings, hitting this viewpoint. Darkness embraces me once more, Heralding Agony and death. As I expect, the pain returns with a vengeance, the agony threatening to consume me. Pain Shoot through my nonexistent body. It goes on and on, the end seeming to never be in sight. Soon I Start seeing things in the endless darkness, eyes, blades, claws, and silhouettes, all materialize before my eyes before vanishing into the darkness once again. Let the pain end, please let it end. And yet, the agony continues for what seems like an eternity. At last light begins to shine once more through the darkness. Please this time may it be the wolf and the lamb, coming to liberate me from this agony. Instead the pain stops, and I feel myself dragged from the endless darkness. The shadows recede, if only a little, and… and, I have a body again! I fall to the floor, relishing the sensation of limbs attached to my conscious, of shoulders, fingers, and eyes. Then I take a measurement of my surrounding, and I do not like what I see. The area where I have been so rudely deposited is a wide-open area, with a floor of stone and impossibly high walls rimming the area. I am reminded of Noxian Fleashing arenas, where many warriors have died to amuse the Noxian nobles. I hear a laugh, cold and alien, and all light drains from this Arena-like place. And the eyes reappear, watching me. Terror flows through my body like blood, and I realize too late that I do not have my gauntlet. The eyes begin to move closer, their speed unlike any I have ever seen. As it draws closer I scramble to get away, the laugh a terrible nocturne in my ears, and then I see him, his eyes are cruel white specks of light, cold and unfeeling, for a body he has nothing more than black flesh, With smoke instead of legs, But the most horrifying thing is his arms, From his arms protrude Giant blades, Curved and blood-red. He is soaring toward me like a phantom, his blades outstretched, searching for my vulnerable flesh. I can’t die like this! I’m too Handsome to die! I scramble away futilely, trying to preserve my glorious face, and the rest of me too, of course. Just as the monster is about to reach me, my savior comes. “Begone scourge” says the… Ninja? That’s a new one, in all my crazy dreams I have never been saved from a nightmare demon by a Ninja. Two swords are neatly placed in sheathes on his back, his face is covered by the… the…. The ninja thing. Sorry never really interacted with Ninja’s before. He makes a motion with his hands and a sword impales the demon, from behind. A magnificent blade hovers where the demon was just seconds ago. Well that’s impressive. Suddenly I feel very, very tired, as if I had just run a marathon, a collapse to the ground and allow oblivion to take me. When I wake up I stare at the stone ceiling for a long time, trying to comprehend what had just happened. It must have been a nightmare, yes it must have been, already the details are leaving me, soon all I can remember is that there was a Ninja. For some reason I can remember the ninja perfectly, as if he was right in front of me. I get up, but immediately regret it, as my head seems to split open with a massive headache. Pain shoots through my head, erasing any concerns other than making the pain stop. All memories of the nightmare leave my head in an instant. Eventually the pain stops, leaving nothing but a dull ache. I look around the cell where I have been so rudely contained. It is a plain cell, Nothing but stone and straw. I peer closely at the cell walls, Petricite, well that explains the dull ache and, when I look down at my gauntlet, why they let me keep a powerful shuriman artifact that allows me to teleport. The magic dampening stone presses at me, making me tired, preventing me from using magic. Even if I had lost my gauntlet, sticking me in a normal cell would have just allowed me to use the other types of magic that I know. Not that there are all that many, but there are some. My uncle was always pressuring me to study more on that particular subject, but studying magic is so boring, luckily, I have the gauntlet, so I don’t have to worry about that. I hear a groan and I look over at Ryze, who is just starting to wake up. He lifts his head, and gets up, clearly suffering from the same headache that I had. “did you happen to have any weird dreams?” I ask, unsure if he also had any. He glares at me. “did you have to bring me a cursed artifact?” he grumbles, His blue skin spotted with purple bruises, making him look like a walking blueberry. I decide to get right to the point. “So, what were you going to say before the cursed artifact decided to make its entrance and I heroically destroyed it? Dark-something I think.” He continues to glare at me, as if debating whether or not to tell me. It looks like the side in favor of giving in wins because he says “darkin, it was darkin” Finally! Now I can figure out why he called me to Noxus. “Many years ago, The Vassal-state of Icathia revolted against its Shuriman masters. The Icathians unleashed the void in battle, thinking they could control it.” He took a breath “they were wrong. The void made swift work of its would-be masters and reduced Icathia to a desolate wasteland.” So that’s why that wasteland in southern shurima is there, Those Icathians Must have been pretty stupid to unleash such a powerful force without knowing if they could control it. “Shurima sent its mightiest warriors to battle the Nothingness, the ascended accepted immediately, Marching to battle without hesitation. The sunborn eventually defeated the Abominations, At the cost of hundreds of thousands of lives and the God-warriors sanity.” Ryze pauses as if regretting the words coming out of his mouth. “Eventually, Shurima fell as all empires must, and without a leader to rally behind, or the threat of the Void to test them, the darkin turned against each other, warring with the entire world as the battlefield.” Ryze grimaces as the bruises gifted by the sandstorm make themselves known. I take this opportunity to think about what he said, This Is the common perception on what happened to the Ascended, so what does this have to do with these “darkin”? “Soon only a handful of these mighty warriors remained, in a single night That number was cut in half by betrayal. One of the Darkin, Tired of the endless war had tried to settle peace for the warriors. He was tricked by the aspect of twilight, and all the god-warriors present were slaughtered by Targonian magic.” Ryze stops once more Scowling at the pain his injuries brought. Then it clicks for me. The Darkin were fallen ascended. My ancient Shuriman is pretty rusty but I can tell that the word Darkin means “fallen one”. But how is this relevant today? All the Ascended are dead today right? “Eventually Mortals got to a point where the remaining darkin could not be defeated, and the aspects of Targon granted them the knowledge to seal the remining Darkin within their own weapons, where they remain to this day” “wait, you mean that these guys are still alive?” I stammer. “yes” is his only reply. “but their trapped in weapons, right?” I say, Ryze sighs “yes but there was an unintended consequence to the binding. Due to the immense magic the Ascended wielded the darkin can possess any fool who attempts to wield the weapons that contain them, slaying the host simply send the darkin back into the weapon.” I try to grasp this “so your saying these guys cannot be killed” . Once again “yes“ is his only response. “so why did you call me to Noxus?”. Ryze look like someone who is one the verge of fainting “I believe that the Wells where the Darkin are currently held are decaying, we need to move them to Newer location where they can be contained more efficiently”. Worry begins to gnaw at my stomach. “what happens if we fail?” I ask. “then the darkin escape their containment, Destroying all of creation in vengeance for their imprisonment.” We are so screwed