Legends of Runeterra

Erath looked at Teneff.

"Each of them came here to bring the promise of the Empire to those willing to become their fellow citizens," she continued. "It was the same as it was in Valoran, in Shurima. But this land… is different. It presents a profound challenge to the soul of every soldier who serves Noxus. We all strive to enlighten these people, to draw them together with us, and ultimately to achieve prosperity together. But the process is not always simple. There is nothing simple about Ionia."

"There are indeed many differences here," Erath agreed. "Do Ionians really turn into flowers when they die?"

Tifalenji grunted and interjected, "Soul Blossom Festival. The souls of the dead take up residence in the Soul Blossom flowers, and when they bloom, they call upon the living. That's what I understand."

"That matches what I've learned," Teneff said.

“Are only Ionian souls residing in flowers?” Erath asked Tenef.

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

Erath reached into his vest and removed the pendant. "During the war, all the warriors of our tribe were sent here. We heard nothing for years, and then one day a woman came with this." He held up the bone so Teneff could see it. "She said this was all I had left of my father. I wonder if he's in a flower, too? Is his spirit still here, and if I can find him?"

"Even if that were possible," Tifalenji interrupted, "we don't have time for such esoteric things. I need you to focus now. Remember why you are here, swordboy. Remember the duty we must perform. Don't think about anything else."

Erath lowered his head. Tifalenji and the other huntresses had clear goals, but his own was vague. The crime of desertion, by comparison, was clear and absolute. He rubbed his thumb over the pendant's surface. "Understood, my lady."

Teneff glanced back. "If your father died here, he would be a hero of Noxus. That is all that matters."

Erath nodded and put the pendant back around his neck.

Will this rain never stop?

Erath pulled one foot out of the mud, trying only halfway to prevent the mud from sucking the boot off his foot. He hopped a few steps on one foot, leaned down to pull the boot back on, trembling all over, feeling that the whole world around him was against him.

The rainbow shimmer of the rain made everything seem like a dream, elusive and disorienting. He heard many animal calls in the sunset-colored branches, sounds that were not animal-like. Perhaps it was the trees themselves calling, their leaves waxing and waning, turning from orange to indigo.

It's too unreal.

The only thing that felt real to Erath was his rumbling stomach. He wished he had made the deal with the villagers before the soldiers started the fight. The scene haunted him, often bringing up uncomfortable thoughts. Was this what the Ionian War was really like? Was this how his father had fought?

Erath's feet touched solid ground, finally free from the mud, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He stretched his arm muscles and led Talz onto a pale boulder.

As he walked, Erath noticed that the subtle shapes and striations in the ground felt strangely familiar. The boulders beneath his feet seemed unnatural, even possessing a regular beauty. His eyes widened in surprise.

Beneath their feet lay a pair of enormous hands, cupped into a bowl. Though half buried in the earth, they still revealed themselves to be a single, connected mass of stone. From the exposed portion, the two palms alone covered an area the size of a courtyard. Erath was curious about the size of the stone statue with these hands, and where it came from.

"I'd love to know how something this big was built," Erath said.

"I'd rather know who destroyed it like this," Tifalenji said. Her expression was determined, and her eyes swept over the scars and cracks left by the severed fingers. "Or rather, what destroyed it."

"Stop," Ariel warned, and her hounds growled.

She pointed ahead.

There was something between his hands. It was small, weeping softly in the rain. Eras wiped the rain from his eyes and walked forward, squinting. Every time he blinked, the thing changed color.

"Be careful," the Runesmith said, her eyes scanning the surroundings as she slowly drew her sword, a low grinding sound of steel.

Curiosity pulled Erath forward. The creature was tiny, no longer than his scimitar. He caught a glimpse of feathers and scales, curled tufts of fern flapping feebly against the air, raised joints that might someday sprout into something resembling wings. The swordsman half-knelt, unable to stop himself from repeating the words he had repeated over and over again since he set foot in Ionia.

"I've never seen anything like it," Erath muttered. He held out his hand to the creature. "Hey, little one, are you hungry?"

"No, no, no," Teneff whispered, searching for something like the Runesmith. "No, no, no."

Erath blinked. "But what if it gets hurt? It's still a baby."

"That's right." Teneff didn't deny it. Erath heard her untie the chain from her forearm. "And where do you think its mother is now?"

Something emerged from the woods beside them. The already cool air grew even colder. Erath dared not breathe as a massive figure emerged and raindrops began to fly upward.

The pitiful creature they found was part bird, part beast, and part sea monster. Its mother looked just like it, grown to adulthood, and every aspect of it had become a complete monstrosity. The ferns on the baby's body had become tentacles like adult arms on its "mother," while the tiny protrusions had become sharp claws. Half of its body seemed to waver between substance and nothingness, as if only a portion of it existed in the reality of Erath.

A deafening scream erupted from between a forest of teeth, and an equally countless number of eyes, which might have been considered its face. Erath cried out in pain, hands covering his ears. The monster flapped its multicolored wings, driving Erath away from its child.

"Back off!" Teneff yelled, not at the monster, but at Erath. "Protect Talz!"