Legends of Runeterra

The sea air was cold, tinged with the bitter taste of salt. Twelve ships formed a fleet alongside the Atoniad. Crimson sails caught the strong wind, temporarily freeing the rowers below deck. Aboard, bored sailors began gossiping about the pirate routes they had crossed the night before. But no one suspected any pirate would be foolish enough to risk their luck with a dozen Imperial warships, each of which was packed from bow to stern with men full of murderous intent.

Erath's gaze shifted from the fleet. Ariel was approaching him. He was about to salute, but then he remembered that he didn't need to salute after leaving the capital. Ariel ignored his embarrassment. She glanced down and saw the child clinging to the railing. "Is this your first time crossing the sea?"

The swordsman nodded. "We've been sailing for three days. They said it would take another three days to reach Fae'lor." He stretched out a hand toward the gray waves. The endless sea stretched to the horizon, the only thing that broke the monotony was the neighboring fleet. "I never imagined there could be so much water."

Ariel grunted, her attitude unfathomable.

"You've been on the battlefield," Erath said, looking a little uneasy at the subject. "Ionia, what is it like?"

Ariel didn't answer him immediately. The tracker looked out to sea, then stroked the second hound's smooth, thick hide. She breathed slowly. "That is a beautiful land, a land of death."

"All of Ionia is just a giant jungle raptor with its head chopped off." Marit appeared from behind them, striding forward and leaning on the railing. "We chopped off its head last time, and now it just claws and struggles blindly, refusing to admit it's dead."

“I’ve hunted raptors,” Ariel said. “Even without their heads, they can rip your guts out.”

"So we're going to fight?" Erath asked. "Another fight with Ionia?"

Marit shrugged. "How would I know? But the commander-in-chief did send a lot of men to this side of the sea. He's definitely not here to show off his military might. Now I just hope he has enough backbone to let us finish this properly, this time thoroughly."

Ariel walked away, and Erath looked back at the unfathomable waves. "What is the name of this sea?" he asked.

"Who cares what it's called?" Marit leaned on Erath's shoulder and walked away. "It's ours anyway."

Erath had never been so grateful for dry land.

The fortress of Faelor loomed on the horizon ahead, gradually growing larger and clearer. The Atoniad remained at full speed, but Erath now knew he was ill-suited to life at sea. The ship's constant sluggishness had him sacrificing many of his freshly eaten meals to the sea. Sudden dizziness always forced him to vomit his tribute. Everything was drenched in seawater, its dried salt crust burning his skin.

He spent most of his time below deck, tending to the animals under his charge and ensuring they made the voyage as comfortable as possible. Talz seemed fine, eating regularly and spending most of his time sleeping in his pen. Lady Henrietta was more of a concern. As an agile and active exotic, Marit's mount clearly found the ship's confines unpleasant. Eras was always careful to feed her, lest he himself become her food. He was eager to let Henrietta off the boat to stretch her legs.

When the scouts at the bow reported sighting land, Eras rushed to the deck. The ship was packed with people eager to catch a glimpse of it. At first, it was just a distant speck, blurred where the sea and sky met. But as they drew closer, the land gradually came into focus. Eras saw that the coast seemed shrouded in a haze of mist, appearing brown and black from a distance, but red when closer.

Faelor has been surrounded by Noxian ships.

The island was surrounded by layers of ships, defensive outposts floating on the sea. The Atoniad was stopped by the outermost patrol boat, and two small frigates approached, dropping boarding ropes, and a group of sailors boarded the ship.

Erath noticed their expressions as they inspected the troop transports, weapons drawn, their faces stern as they scrutinized the captain's orders and cargo manifests. They searched every deck, and the swordsman watched as three robed blood mages carefully examined every soldier aboard, chanting softly some incantation and checking the eyes of every man, young or old, regardless of gender.

"What are they looking for, ma'am?" he asked Tifalenji.

"Signs of conspiracy," the Runesmith replied. "Deception. Unchecked magic."

To Erath, it all seemed strange. "But we are all Noxian soldiers, traveling aboard an Imperial ship. Isn't this a bit of an overreaction?"

"Patience, boy," Tifalenji said. "You'll understand once we land in Fae'lor."

They searched every inch of the Atonyad, leaving behind a delegation while the rest of the soldiers returned to their respective frigates, and the ship was released to the next blockade. At each checkpoint, the inspection was repeated. Every time the Atonyad stopped, the person in charge of the inspection rotated. Erath was endlessly poked and prodded, tossed and turned, and by the time they finally saw the port, he had begun to wonder if he wasn't trusted by any of his comrades, or even by anyone.

Then he saw Fëlor clearly and understood why.

The fortress had been completely gutted. He could only vaguely guess what the walls had once looked like, the once impenetrable defenses crumbling to pieces, leaving behind a pile of charred, broken teeth. The destruction extended beyond the walls and towers; the island itself had been disintegrated, torn and chopped apart, as if by some rare natural disaster.

The Atonyad was pulled into its berth. As soon as it came to rest, several Noxians jumped aboard and began working together on the deck and dock. Craftsmen rushed to their assigned positions, and raw materials and supplies were brought ashore. Eras returned to the lower deck, trying to forget the shock he had just endured, and disembarked with Talz and Henrietta.

Amidst the throng of livestock and ordinary pack animals, Erath led the two beasts he was in charge of out of the hold and onto the ramp. He waited in line for the final formalities before entering the city, the final step in entering Fae'lor. He watched in fascination as people piled into the wreckage of another warship, like a swarm of ants working frantically.