Bitter Wind
I was about to collapse.
To meditate, recover, refresh. As far as I'm trying to eclipse my mind, the image of my lips on her...pursues me, takes away my sleep, it's a torment I recollect, like touching a scar and knowing it will hurt but at the same time that it will come satisfaction.
A nuisance that becomes pleasure.
I kissed her once, and it was as intense as a dip in fresh walnuts; It was like quitting a dream and realizing, suddendly, to be alive. I left, afterwards. A coward, I'm just a coward.
And what about her? The next morning, as contemptuous as ever, impossible to reach, with no vulnerability. My brother ... what would my brother do? Ah, if only...
This fate is too heavy to be destroyed by the wind.
I traveled a lot around Valoran, looking for someone who could master the Wind Blade. I was like a dog: alone, errant, wanted. I came to the Institute of War, and I can't bear the terror of having found what I've been seeking for so long.
Vengeance and love can not coexist in a body of flesh.
Meditate, recover, fight.
As soon as I arrived I was so anxious to test myself. The summoners don't call us before we have trained, at least a minimum, and so Karma - is she the one who acts as intermediator between the Ionians and the summoners - sent me to the training camps; At first I had to fight stupid holograms, "intelligent" copies of other fighters, so easy to annihilate that I never had to use the full force of the wind; Then I had to practice in the armories, under the Institute, to know the objects, to know the weight of the metal in my hands. That's where I met her. Our blades crossed one, two, three times, and one more, and once again, for a whole afternoon. I couldn't hit her once, I was not prepared for such a speed.
The next day, as soon as I saw her, she looked at me with an expression of challenge.
I hit her once, and she laughed. She laughed.
How had it passed from the last time I heard the sound of someone laughing...? Well, people laughs here too, of course, but mostly they are the crazy and sharp laughter of that little girl and that clown there who so much have fun dancing together, hidden in those rooms abandoned under the Institute. I do not think it is allowed, but who stops them, who even tries to stop them?
She was agile, snappy, full of life. She was like the wind on earth. I should have understood it. We laughed drinking grog after workouts. I could see her face blushing, in complete contrast to her mimic expression, under those short hairs. She has scars, I've seen them. Yet she takes them with pride, she shines a light similar to mine....back to when I shone.
The first day in the Rift was wonderful, at least to a certain extent. She was also summoned, along with me.
Dragons, legendary creatures, arcane magic.. the Rift fits me. We worked perfectly; She was throwing strong and boldly, paving the way for my Steel Storms. Then, a blow in the middle of my heart.
I was in the jungle when the entire enemy team came up against me. I tried to run away, throwing behind me wind spirals, twisting, snapping as much as possible and refining the senses.
Then she came, full of energy, shining; She threw herself on the enemy team, destroyed their armors, I think I saw a shield break under her fists. All around corpses ... someone fleed, I do not even remember who.
A wind knife, and a carnage had been served.
For a moment I believed, for a fraction of a second that seemed eternal, to have exploited the power of the wind... I believed it was me the one who had released all that power..
Then she looked at me, and said:
"Hey dude, did you really believe you were the only one in the world to know how to cut wind, didn't you?"
No, I knew there was at least somebody else alive that mastered that technique. Whoever killed my master.
Riven, I hate you.
To Meditate, calm down, ponder.
Love and revenge can not coexist in a body of flesh.
What to do? How to behave? I hate it, and yet I love her.
Part of me, the most hidden one, yells that isn't she, it could not have been her; The other one, the one in the storm for too long, is blind and knows that she might have killed my master. I
I should not look at her, I should avoid thinking about her... Yet how can I refuse, how can I not think of someone who is so similar to me?
There is another woman here, ephebic, beautiful, who master the wind. But her gaze is too ethereal, her meat too light. I tried and tried to love her, to divert Janna and her blond hair to my interest ... without success. Someone please help me because I feel like dying.
I feel I can not deal with it, because if I'm wrong she'd hate me. She would destroy me with a word.
No, let's go, I'm not a coward! I can face it. I'm strong, I'm capable.
And what about if she confesses? What would I do? Would I take her blood? Yes. No. Vengeance. Love. Outside the time passes, the wind blows... Or maybe it's inside me.
(Chronicles of Valoran, II)
Chronicles of Valoran, I : Dear father, I write thee --> https://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/skin-champion-concepts/NjITZRAz-dear-father-i-write-thee