The Healer Goat and the Edgy Scythe Kid
Greetings! A fellow boards member, Tides of Blood, has collaborated with me to take two of our favorite champs on a roadtrip in this comedic adventure.
This is the start of a larger project we are working on, so sit tight for updates!
#Chapter 1: Introductions are in Order ##By Tides of Blood
The shadows flicker with each step, in awestruck salute to the one who breathes amongst them. The very footfalls are enough to send the darkness back, but ever drawing closer in yearning. It wishes to be one with the shadowstrider, the deathwalker, the one who dances betwixt blade and blood and the inky blackness of lack-light. Those standing in the light do so out of fear, but all know that the brightest flames cast the darkest shadows. I alone command the dark, I am-
**_Oh, in the name of Ionia, Noxus, and Pentakill’s latest album, Kayn, do shut up._** The throaty voice of Rhaast said, the eye in the scythe visibly rolling. **_I swear, the first thing I’ll do once I take over your body is tear out the brain and regrow a fresh one, to purge any remnants of your way of thinking._**
Kayn huffed and glowered at the weapon, to no effect. “You say that like you believe you’ll win.”
**_Of course I’ll win, I am a Darkin, an immortal of untold destruction and mayhem, you are but a delusional child._**
“A caged immortal, don’t forget, and as long as I hold you I command you.”
**_We will see. I will bathe in the blood of a thousand…wait don’t let g-_**
Kayn rested the weapon against the wall he himself was leaning against and sighed. Without physical contact, the connection that allowed them to communicate was temporarily severed, temporarily being operative, as Kayn would never truly let the Darkin Scythe out of his possession. He could still feel the bloodthirsty presence in the back of his mind, as he did at all times, but it was nice to have this thoughts to himself for once.
He ran a hand through the blue-streaked side of his hair, and put his thoughts back to his mission. The day prior, Zed had taken him into his study and assigned him a new contract. This wasn’t an assassination charged from the underbelly of Ionia or the secret cabal within the government – rumoured to have their own assassins – this was a task directly bequeathed to Kayn from the Master of Shadows himself, it was a great honour.
Which was why the accompanying caveats were all the more frustrating.
For starters, it wasn’t even an assassination, it was a delivery. Zed had given Kayn a small, unmarked package bearing no identification other than a stylistic “Z” drawn in crimson, and had made no indication as to what was inside. Then there was the fact that Kayn hadn’t been given a destination at all, just a series of directions that would supposedly lead him to his destination.
What was most annoying of all however, was that Zed had mandated that – for some reason known only to the goddamn Celestials – Kayn had to seek out and travel with a healer. Not a spiritualist, not a monk, not even a cleric who could defend themselves; a healer. A totally non-combatant, pacifistic, anti-slaughter healer.
And the reason why?
Zed was apparently concerned that Rhaast may be getting closer to fully taking over Kayn’s body, and the influence of a healer may help to stave it off long enough for Kayn to master the weapon.
Rhaast’s laughter at the audacity of a mere mortal being able to keep his influence at bay had echoed in Kayn’s head for three hours.
An ambiguous assignment, an uncertain journey, an annoying weapon, and a healer.
This is not going to be an enjoyable journey.
It was the second day after Kayn had put a notice up in the nearest town, hoping to attain his travelling companion with minimal effort. He rented out a room at the inn and had not left it for anything other than food and drink, spending his time trying to hone his shadows.
But in the corner of his eye, Rhaast was restless and wanted attention. His eye was moving madly around in its socket, blinking fast. With a sigh, Kayn dispelled the half-formed shadow clone he had been working on and walked over to the petulant reaper.
He gingerly reached out, and picked up the Darkin.
**_Finally!_** Rhaast said, indignant. **_I’m so bored! Did I ever tell you about the time Aatrox and I had a competition to see who could kill the most people at-_**
Kayn put the Darkin back down, and moved away.
He closed his eyes and channelled the shadows within him, shaping them once more into a copy of himself, when a quiet knock at the door distracted him once more. He frowned, and was tempted to pick Rhaast up and cleave through both the door and the person on the other side, but he knew that the only person who would disturb him was the healer he sought.
He dispelled the shadows once more, and went to open the door. The wooden pane swung open, revealing the healer that had taken up Kayn’s missive.
Oh no. Another non-human. Was the first thing that came to his mind upon seeing her, though the sight of her was still several shades more welcome than the sight of his own non-human sidekick.
She was…leggy, for lack of a better word, and either she knew it and dressed accordingly, or the concept of modesty was alien to her. Either way, the assassin-in-training didn’t complain as he tilted his head to better regard the exposed thighs and calves.
…That led to hooves.
What?
Kayn looked back up at the lilac-skinned woman, glancing over the horn protruding from her forehead and gave her another up-and-down scan.
…Goat?
“Good evening, it’s nice to meet you.” The healer had a staff in one hand, golden and ending in a crescent moon. “My name is Soraka, I’m a healer.” She smiled and extended her hand in greeting.
The young assassin slowly reached out and took it, a calming sensation immediately washing over him as his skin made contact with hers. Suddenly, Rhaast felt a great distance away, and though the Darkin remained present in his mind, the shadows felt closer than they had in ages. Soraka’s eyes glimmered with something inscrutable as they made contact, and she couldn’t help look over Kayn’s shoulder into the room. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she saw the Darkin Scythe, propped up against the wall. Kayn noticed, and overzealously leapt into a backflip, followed by a twirling handspring which placed him next to his companion.
“This is Rhaast, my weapon. He’s the reason for your presence. Don’t be alarmed, he only bites what I swing him at.” Kayn said as he picked him up.
**_Or the hand that feeds me._**
“Keep that attitude up and I’ll let you starve, you’re not the only blade I can kill with.” Kayn snapped back.
**_Oh hush. Be a lamb, and tell the goat that it is my pleasure to meet her._** Rhaast said, his voice dripping with the tone of a leer, earning an eye-roll from the assassin.
“He says hello.”
Soraka raised her eyebrows in intrigue. “He…says ‘hello’?”
Kayn nodded. “Sentient weapon, it’s the only downside to the power a Darkin artifact provides. He’s deeply annoying.”
Rhaast made a noise of indignation, indicating hypocrisy on Kayn’s part. Probably.
“I…see.” Soraka said quietly, still standing in the doorframe. She tightly coiled her fingers around her staff and gingerly stepped into the room, noting that there was nothing of Kayn’s beyond a travelling satchel and the Darkin. “May I ask your name?”
“Shieda Kayn.” He replied curtly, a smirk rising as the words left his lips. “The avatar of shadows, an apprentice to the darkness, the scion of-”
**_Don’t start that again! Spare the poor woman of your childish mantras, and spare me! I promise to be a well-behaved Darkin for the rest of the mission if you don’t start again with that nonsense._** Rhaast hissed. Kayn was granted a mental image of a crimson, great-horned demonic figure clutching its head, where its ears would be, and smiled satisfactorily.
Soraka nodded and smiled warmly, brightening up the whole room as she did so. “Well, Shieda Kayn, I look forward to accompanying you on your journey. May I ask where we are going?”
“You may, but I don’t have an answer for you.” Kayn reached into the folds of his clothing and produced a collection of notes. “Here, the directions my master gave me.”
She took them from his hand, turning them over and scanning them. A few seconds passed as her golden eyes collected the information upon the papers, before making a small noise of realization.
“What is it?” Kayn asked.
She hummed. “…Yes, I think it would be best if I accompanied you.” She returned the papers to Kayn and stepped further into the room, her eyes fixated upon the flesh-chitin arm that Rhaast had already claimed from Kayn. “This…Rhaast, what does it want?”
“My body.”
**_Oho~, say it like that and it sounds like we’re lovers. Granted, you’re always holding me tightly, grunting as you move me around._**
Kayn flicked Rhaast in the eye. “As well as destruction, carnage, mayhem, and bloodlust.”
Soraka pursed her lips and frowned. “I see. Would you mind if I took a look at your affliction before we set out, perhaps I can stave off his presence?”
Kayn shrugged and twirled Rhaast, planting him blade-down into the floor. He held out his left arm for Soraka’s consideration, eyes darting between his own clawed fingers and her face. The goat reached out and took his hand in hers, grazing her fingertips from his down to the forearm. She could feel the tumultuous corruption within, latent, dormant, but seething with untapped rage. This was but a taste of the full takeover, if the Darkin had his way, he’d be filled to bursting with directionless malice and a hunger for cruelty.
The once-Celestial closed her eyes and raised her staff, holding the crescent head just a few inches above Kayn’s wrist, and channelled her magic into him. Once again, a wave of relief washed over Kayn, and once again Rhaast felt far away from his mind. The shackle and chain remained, but rather than being tightly wound around his body, biting into his flesh, Rhaast was far away, at the end of a slack line over the horizon. The inside of his mind, for the first time since he’d picked up the weapon, was clear. An impermeable, inky blackness, the welcoming embrace of cold shadows. No hot crimson slashed through his psyche, no raucous laughter echoed within his skull.
The assassin shuddered and staggered slightly as he returned to reality, and Rhaast returned to him. Even without touching the weapon, he could hear the dark growl his symbiotic companion was building, but he ignored it, and refocused his attention on Soraka. “…Thank you.” He said quietly.
Soraka modestly bowed and smiled. She took a few steps away from Kayn – her hooves clip-clopping against the wooden floor – and rested her staff against the wall. Humming a quiet tune, she turned back to face the assassin.
“We should take rest tonight, we can set off tomorrow.”
Kayn hated mornings.
He groaned as he tossed over, the sheets he was under tangled amongst his own limbs. His face was pressed into his bicep, slack-jawed and laying in a small puddle of his own drool. For all his grace and poise in a martial field, Kayn was an inelegant sleeper. Rolling over again, he wiped the dried spit from his lip and exhaled, keeping his eyes resolutely closed. He was in no mood to get out of bed right now, and dreams began to retake him as he pulled the covers tighter around him.
Which is why when the sheets were yanked off him, and the cool air of the Ionian morning breathed against his skin, he whined like a petulant child, still half-asleep.
“N-no Zed. I…I don’t want t-to do flute practice…”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Another voice said.
Kayn’s eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, finding himself looking at his new travelling companion, with his old one in her hands. He sat, dry mouthed, and stared in horror at the small knowing smile playing on Soraka’s lips.
“We should be going. I’ve already acquainted myself with your weapon.” She said as she handed Kayn the scythe, no adverse effects apparent upon her from holding the Darkin. “He had some quite interesting things to say about you.”
Kayn’s expression hovered between embarrassment and fury, directed respectively towards the goat and the reaper. Rhaast chuckled darkly into Kayn’s mind while Soraka set about picking up the last of her effects.
“Come, daylight is the best time to travel.” She said.
