A Search Through Runeterra (Arcane)

"You guys all look so strong. You can count on me though, I got this!"~ Milio, Ankara Messi

This chapter was fun to write. Let me know if you enjoyed it. And let me know if you guessed the characters before their names were revealed.

I'm also noticing that we are getting close to 100 chapters. DAMN! That's a lot. Thanks for the support guys!

I've seen so many comments and stones from you guys. Yato. Cheeki. Yuni. WilliamLeGoat. Mades. WanderingTaoist. WildCard. Ayden. 

You guys are great!

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Swathes of people moved through the snow. They followed a man with a large cloak as he pushed through the snow.

They moved with purpose.... as if they had to get somewhere and soon.

Their leader seemed to know the way. Despite being in the same boat as them, he had been forced to take over the group. They looked toward the man for everything.

And he did not know if he had it in him to lead them all.

A leader needed to be competent.

He was not.

He was running off of fumes. Fumes of anger and rage against every wrongdoing against him. 

Glancing back to see if everyone was still following, he wondered if things could have gone in a different direction.

His own actions were excessive. He knew that.

But it was necessary.

People similar to him, who were born with a similar condition, all of them were treated worse than animals. This was a much needed shock. A shock that could help change a land.

Or make things worse.....

This tribe in the Freljord was willing to take them in for a while but they would also employ their abilities to help them.

It was a temporary affair but one that would pay off for both their groups.

A safe haven for a short duration and a shot at something bigger.

Cooperation that was bought through combat and a trial. His survival of True Ice as well as his performance in combat against one of their strongest warriors had bought him this chance. But there was one more piece to the puzzle. Thorva. Her lie of him having arrived in the Freljord due to a prophetic dream about the Three Sisters was the final thing that had netted him this opportunity.

In his anger, he had not considered the widespread death and destruction that this could cause. Only now was he considering the results of what could happen.

It was not pretty.

But the arrow had already been launched. The plans set in motion.

The only thing he could do now was watch. Watch as the arrow hit its target.

If everything succeeded then he could have the entire Winter's Claw alongside him instead of just a single tribe from the alliance.

This alliance was willing to pillage instead of trade.

Why barter when you could just take?

He sighed, vapor forming in front of him as he did. The chill was bone numbing. He felt it strike his knees. His fingers were becoming numb and felt like they were burning.

He knew those behind him felt the same but it was no where near the pain from his first venture into these lands.

Making the trip through the Freljord through pure willpower and anger just for a chance of survival required inhuman endurance. And he had made the journey while extremely tired and spent.

If the Scarmother and her people hadn't found him his death would have been a guarantee. A tired criminal who had been wrongfully imprisoned and then wrongfully convicted of another crime just disappearing into the endless white.

No!

His eyes glowed blue at the thought.

He wouldn't die here. He wouldn't die until he had made a difference. 

His title of most dangerous mage in the land was not for show.

CLINK

CLANK

Swinging his hand forward, he willed his magic to clear the snow off his path. The chains attached to his hands clinked with the movement. A wave of magic moved the snow out of their way.

He let out another breath, air fogging in front of him as he did.

Sylas of Dregbourne would not fall.

"An opportunity...." She mused. Her fingers ran over the papers in front of her. She glanced to her trusted general at her side.

"He seems to have outdone himself." She spoke out loud.

Her guard nodded, he wasn't one to show emotion but even he looked impressed.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips but her eyes did not have the smile. No. She looked forlorn. "He always knew how to pick them...." She reminisced, "A peaceful and diplomatic approach netted him this". Her eyes landed on the papers once again.

Her eyes shifted to another set of papers on the side. "Even she knows how to pick them... Tell me Rictus.... Am I being outshone by my children?"

Rictus chose not to reply since he knew of her pride. Pride in herself. But above all.... pride in her children.

She was proud of her children.

But she was still torn about the death of her oldest. The passing years did nothing to quell the pain.

But pain was a weakness.

Ambessa Medarda was never one to display weakness.

Weakness could be exploited.

Her grandfather had passed without naming an heir. But none of the other branch family members could match up to Ambessa. Her unyielding nature and her resolve made her what she was today.

She had fought tooth and nail to rise to her position. But her children chose to ignore her principles, instead choosing to make something out of themselves in different ways. Ways she did not like. 

But her actions in sending Mel away to her uncle Jago Medarda in Piltover, in hindsight, were the best things she could have done. Rolling a glowing blue stone in her hand, she smirked.

Hextech was the future. And weaponry made from it would revolutionize warfare. It could make something big.

But above all.... it would allow her a chance for revenge.

Revenge against the group responsible for the death of her son. Something big enough to kill them all.

Or at the very least. Something big enough to send them out into the open.

The Black Rose would learn to fear the Medarda.

BOOOMMM

The sound of something exploding brought her out of her thoughts. In an instant, she was on her feet and looing for the source of the explosion. Then came the ripples from the explosion, the ground under her shaking violently.

"This isn't above ground." She surmised. The corners of her lips lifted, "I wonder if you were responsible for this as well..."

His entire life, he had only ever looked up to the throne but now that he was seated upon it? He could feel the weight on his shoulders.

It was heavy.

He was carrying the entire kingdom on his back... all alone...

The respect for his father that had been slowly diminishing, grew larger. He had faced all this and still stood tall? How?

How did he act like nothing could phase him? How could he do that when the crown on his head felt like a noose on his neck?

His eyes swept through those in front of him. Nobles stood around, all trying to one up the other by calling out ideas and plans.

Ideas and plans that pandered to hate and bigotry.

He had had enough of this senseless death and destruction. 

They expected him to follow in his father's footsteps and pander to them all. Maintain a false stability while giving everyone what they wanted. But he wasn't like his father. He wouldn't do the same things as him. But just because he had let the nobles have their way did not mean he hadn't kept them on a leash. It was a game. A pull here and a push there. A tug of war, just one in the courtroom. Just enough to let them feel important while also getting enough out of them in the process.

He wasn't like his father. He was stalwart. Unchanging. Believing in his own values.

It was why his father had sent him to the battlefield. To make him follow orders and be malleable. To change his mindset.

But it hadn't worked.

He had done things his way and the results showed. His father did not know what to do then. The last straw was his denial of an arranged marriage. He couldn't force himself to marry someone he saw as a sister for his entire life.

His belief in his principles were incredibly strong. And his belief in the people surrounding him were just as strong. His childhood friends were ever reliable. His choice in his romantic partner was also something his father wouldn't approve of, if he had known.

But all of this was what made him.... him.

He raised his hand, calling for attention with just his actions. The loud voices and clamor stopped instantly.

Jarvan the Fourth rose to full height while keeping his eye on the nobles.

"Behave as one should in front of a king. This is not some auction. You are here to decide the future of this kingdom." His eyes swept past them all. "Act like it."

The words got some looks from the nobles but he did not back down.

"Any plans involving further attacks on mages is henceforth disallowed. The fear of magic has escalated to such an extent that we have started to focus them onto our own families. The Rune Wars happened thousands of years ago and we are surrounded by Petricite. The fear in unnatural. It is incorrect. Do you believe that we could have had a Kingslayer if...." He took a breath to collect himself. "If we hadn't imprisoned the mages themselves? I have seen how you all have conducted yourselves since my father's passing, before I rose to this position, and I am disappointed in you and your actions."

Murmurs spread through the nobles.

"You have failed your people. Your kingdom. And above all.... yourselves."

Outrage erupted at the accusations but Jarvan stood tall.

He was king.

He wouldn't bow down to anyone.