Ghost Tongue - Cora's story
(Link Provided for anyone who missed her champion spotlight i designed completely a few days ago.)
The Sundered Vaults of Arcana were still a sight to behold, even as its dilapidated structures and barren landscape continued to decay. Black Mist in the area was usually quite high, but tonight, it was spread thin. Shock waves sent by the clashing of steel on steel dispersed the Mist like a droplet ripples on the waters' surface. In the dead of night, in these tainted lands, a battle was raging.
A female warrior, clad in a gray scale-bound cuirass which had a black tattered hood draped over it, and dark tarnished cuisses traded blows a soulless titan, one of the Shadow Isles most fearsome monstrosities. An aura, slightly pink in hue, encased her elegant, slender form. Her mid-sized, curved sword, that she recovered from her father's corpse, deflected blows from the Titan's huge axe with relative ease, though by the size difference in weapons and stature, should have been impossible for any normal warrior. But she was no ordinary warrior.
Brought up in these harrowing, scourged lands, she knew the abominations of the dead very well. Since the Pale Lady killed her entire village, friends and family alike, she was orphaned to a land destined to kill her. Whether by the Black Mist, or the veritable and myriad creatures laden within this grotesque place, she was destined to die. But die she did not. She waded through this place, killing the undead and laying spirits to rest, all while taking full-bodied breaths of the mist, know that one day it would kill her. But while she was alive and well, she would seek revenge on the Pale Lady.
Thresh watched from the shadows. He watched her movements, her strikes, deflections. But most importantly, he watches her souls. Thresh learned of her past in his travels with her in his attempt to unlock her true potential. He could see the burden of the souls of her friends and family lost so long ago weighing heavy on her. But through his training, she's been able to control them. Weaponize them. But she still had much to learn. Her sword, which held much more power than she realized, was the key to her final lesson, and the Vault was her classroom.
The warrior deflected yet another attack of the Titans' massive axe, bringing Thresh's attention back to the fight in its entirety. This deflection in particular seemed to stagger the Titan, and the warrior took her opportunity. Running up the intricately etched metal staff which somehow held the weight of its giant bloodied cleaver, she jumped to the beasts hulking chest, sprung into a back flip, striking the beast on the chin with her boots. In her descent, she slashed the beast from its chest to its waist, and it let out a feral roar. It was injured, but not done yet.
After that last attack, about fifteen feet stood between her and the Titan. She thrust her sword into the sky, and in that instant it went from a light pink glow, to the darkest, but vibrant purple and abyssal black. She then swung with all of her might, and a spear made out of soul energy flew forth, piercing the now wounded chest of the Titan. As the Titan fell, she ran straight into the path of its landing, jumping forward to meet the Titan in stride as it fell, slicing it clean in half.
As she landed from the attack, she shook her blade of the blood on it, and glanced behind her as the corpse of the giant slowly disintegrated, leaving behind only its tortured soul. As she approached it, Thresh's chain hook pierced through the battlefield, snatching the soul. He reeled it back in and held up his lantern, and the soul was vacuumed into it.
"Well done, Cora," he said, in a harsh tonality, "but I could have done without the flashiness. The Vault awaits. Are you ready for your final lesson?"
She sheathed her blade, fixing her hair back into her tattered hood, and looked up at the Chain Warden. Her dichromatic blue and white eyes portrayed a sense of heart, and a lifetime of agony. Thresh had an idea as to why the Black Mist never made her succumb to the same fate as all living things here, and he had a mind to prove himself right, gaining a powerful ally in the process.
"Have you ever asked yourself why the Black Mist hasn't killed you yet? You're nineteen now. No one has ever made it 19 years here." Thresh moaned.
Cora's response indicated that she just avoided his question entirely.
"That… wasn't it?" she asked in a serious manner.
"No. Now come."
So in they went. The inside of the Vault was still pristine as if it was just built today. No living thing has seen the inside in ages. Any who tried were overtaken by the Black Mist's life draining essence long before even making it within eye shot., left to make the rest of the journey as the very spirits that still haunt the grounds this day.
"What are we looking for, Thresh?" Cora asked, this time with more of a playfully inquisitive tone. She had just turned 19, and even through all of her sorrow, she still found ways to emit a feeling of youthfulness every now and again.
"A Pedestal." Thresh stated sharply.
They kept walking the elaborately designed hallways of the Vault, slaying the occasional rogue spirit that would dare to pose a threat. Each one defeated made Thresh stronger, but it also made him realize his suspicion was right.
"That sword.. Was your fathers'?" Thresh inquired.
"Yes. The only thing that wasn't completely destroyed when the Pale Lady destroyed my-"
"I know, Cora. I remember. I know you do too." he interrupted. "Does it speak to you?" He asked the question already knowing the answer.
"If you can call it that. Whenever I wield it, I hear things. Not words, but sounds, cries… as much as it reminds me of that day, it's actually showed me a thing or two and has been an integral part of my survival in the past thirteen years." explained Cora.
"What if I told you that sword was made for you, and it can speak?"
"I'd call you crazy."
"You wouldn't be wrong."
They walked for what seemed like forever. Finally, they found a room with a crack in the wall, which was oozing an ominous purple light.
"Here." Thresh stated, whipping his chain hook into the crack, and pulling it towards him, shattering the wall. After the dust settled, an alter laid in front of them, and in the center, a pedestal. "Your destiny awaits."
Cora left Thresh's side, pacing slowly towards the ominous looking alter. Upon reaching it, she noticed the alter had a slot in it that looked specifically designed for her sword. She looked up at Thresh, who nodded at her. She took out her sword, and slowly placed it into the orifice. Once it was fully in, the sword locked into place, in an instant, the entire alter was lit aflame with purple and black flame. Cora screamed in excruciating pain. She was unable to let go of the sword. Suddenly, the memories of that night played back like a movie in her head. She relived every moment, from watching the Pale Lady arrive, to seeing barbarians slay her parents, to the last remnants of her house burning down.
Then, the pain stopped. She opened her eyes, and almost like it was never locked in place, removed the sword from the alter. The dark purple and black flame still engulfed her, and she looked up at Thresh, who exchanged glances with her.
"I knew it." he exclaimed.
"What.. Is this?" Cora asked.
Thresh laughed maniacally, and started walking off. Cora ran to follow him, only to be interrupted by a strange voice.
"Don't follow him. His job is complete. It is our turn now." the voice commanded.
"Our turn? Show yourself!" shouted Cora, sword at the ready.
"Don't you recognize us? The voices, slain long ago, given voice again." the voice muttered.
"Wait.. you.. no. This.. can't be..." at a loss for words, Cora dropped to her knees, holding her head in her hands. "What are you?"
Her sword, that she dropped at her side, now lit aflame, levitating off the floor in front of her face. Words formed from the air around the blade, each one accompanied by a small flash of light.
"We are Ghost Tongue. We are one." the blade said, in a stern voice. "We are the voice. We are the Souls. We are the ones you couldn't save. It was not your fault."
Cora started crying. Ghost Tongue continued.
"We have stayed by your side, helping you learn to survive, teaching you to use your sorrw as a weapon, and now that you've bound us back to Ghost Tongue, we are one. You, your family and friends, and the sword. Now, we can complete our mission."
"And what is that mission?" prodded Cora, wiping tears from her cheek.
"To kill the Pale Lady." Ghost Tongue's words burned into Cora's ears.
Cora stood for a moment in shock. She grabbed the hilt of the sword, still in shock of the power she felt flowing through her. Tilting the sword from side to side, she examined the blade carefully. The purple and black flame that initially hurt her beyond compare was now one with her and Ghost Tongue. She sheathed the sword at her side, looking at the floor in awe. After a brief moment, she fixed her gaze from the floor slowly to the long hallway in front of her, facial expression show one of intense anger and hatred. A renewed vigor swept over her. She clenched her fists so tight, she could have bent the finest metal in Runeterra.
"Take me to her."