A Search Through Runeterra (Arcane)

"Neeko is best decision!"~ Neeko, The Curious Chameleon (Daani impersonator)

Went a different route with how one would see the two. Let me know if you find it better.

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The ground enlarged as Gregori's face slammed into it.

The weakness in his body magnifying as he felt the toll on both his body and his magic.

"Sylas!" Brokvar spoke coldly. "I do not approve of your intervention."

Black spots swam through Gregori's eyes but he could still hear the words being spoken.

"Fine." Sylas answered. "Kill him when he's down."

Gregori felt the chains being pulled of his body, the weakness receding as it did. 

"NO!" Brokvar roared. "He deserves a warrior's death. On his feet."

And in response to those words, Gregori pushed himself to his knees using his hands and then onto his feet. He shook his head trying to bring back much needed clarity in his eyes. Using the pal of his hand he wiped the blood off his face and faced Brokvar.

His shield flew out from his hands into the outstretched arms of the mage.

"How did this thing stop a True Ice weapon without freezing?" He heard the man mutter as he examined it.

But then something clicked.

The name.

Sylas.

He turned around slowly and faced the mage in shackles.

"Sylas?" He grunted. "The Kingslayer?" He prodded.

The mage crossed his hands as a hard look passed through his eyes, his attention finally off the shield.

"Yes." He answered, a smirk forming on his face. "Afraid?"

"Heh." Gregori chuckled dryly. "Afraid? No. I know the truth Sylas. I know what really happened. I do not fear you." Gregori watched as Sylas's eyes widened. "Maybe your allies need to know it as well."

"Brokvar." Sylas looked past Gregori. "This man is mine to finish off."

"What truth is he speaking of Sylas?" Brokvar questioned.

"That does not concern you." Sylas shot back.

Gregori felt this work in his favor. Stalling for time was a good option at the moment. The other groups should have won their respective battle and started to move toward him. If these two wanted a pointless conversation who was Gregori to deny them that. Better they wasted time themselves than him having to do something.

A buzz ran through his body as he felt his magic start to get back into working condition.

The blood loss was making his head swim. The black spots in his eyes grew further.

The first thought in his mind was Elnuk stew. As if that made any sense. Before he could think of why he had even thought of that, a figure appeared in front of him.

The figure stood off to the side. He watched as another figure appeared. Both overlapping the two arguing enemies.

Suddenly, the black spots receded as his eyes came into focus. Shock sprouted in his face as he recognized the two figures. He would never forget his first meeting with them.

Their masks were forever etched in his memory.

The Lamb and The Wolf.

Gregori understood at that moment why he was seeing them. His eyes shifted downward as the blood flowed.

He was dying. 

The two creatures turned to him and words were spoken. Words he didn't hear through the buzzing in his head.

Then he had a ridiculous thought. Not something he would have ever thought of if he wasn't that mentally drained.

A shot in the dark.

His magic flared for a moment and he pulled. Pulled at everything around him. Pulled at himself.

WHOOOOOOOSH

Blood flowed backward, pulled back into the very wounds it came from. But it only the blood that hadn't fallen to the ground. His magic didn't seem to affect it.

As the blood seeped back into his body, the wounds on his body pulled together. Slowly but surely, the cuts on his person resealed. Blood vessels reconnected. Flesh sewn together. Skin resealing.

A complete recovery.

He raised his head as he felt some clarity return to his mind. The Lamb and The Wolf were still present. Staring at him. Heads tilting.

He wants to fight! 

A gruff voice cut through, excitedly. The Wolf. Gregori turned to face him. The Wolf moved closer to him and growled.

Understanding flashed in his eyes. Not a complete recovery. His magic was still holding him together. It would need to do that for a lot longer for his body to naturally heal.

Accepting us will make it easier.

The soft feminine voice of The Lamb spoke from the side.

Accepting?

Accepting death?

Resolution flashed within his eyes, as he wordlessly raised his hands.

The shield which was behind The Lamb shot to his hand and the axe buried under a pile of bodies flew to his hand.

Raising both hands, Gregori slammed his axe into his shield.

BANG

BANG BANG

Fighting even in the face of death.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he had honored the principles of the Rakkor. The feeling of unworthiness left his body, washed away by resolution.

Very well then!

The Wolf leapt at him, it maw wide open.

SLAM

Gregori swung his shield to the side knocking The Wolf to the side. The figure's wispy form shimmered in and out of existence as something else lay under it.

His eyes turned to The Lamb who watched him silently.

STRUGGLE HARDER!

The Wolf roared as it shot to him from the side.

SLAM

Gregori raised his shield only to get sent flying backward. But he was on his feet in an instant, attention completely on The Wolf now.

The thrill of the hunt! What a delectable feeling!

The Wolf spoke with a near euphoric voice. 

This.....

This death....

Rage filled Gregori.

This death was playing.... toying with him.

This was entertainment.

Noxians prayed for The Wolf to visit them in death but here it was.... entertaining itself with his death.

No.

This wasn't just a matter of survival.

This was a matter of pride. Pride in himself. Pride in the life he had lived. And pride in his strength.

The Wolf was looking down on all of it.

With a roar of his own, he made the first move this time.

A leap and a swing of his axe.

Gregori's shield lodged itself in The Wolf's gaping maw as it stopped the incoming attack. For a moment The Wolf faded out as another silhouette overlapped it.

Gregori shook his head as he felt an impact in his side sending him down again.

The image of The Wolf faded away completely. Its disappearing shadowy wisps, the only proof of anything different.

His eyes landed no the person he was facing.

Brokvar.

Confusion settled as he eyed the man.

But the axe coming down on his head changed that. Rolling to the side, he narrowly avoided the attack and pushed himself up to his feet.

Another swing from the larger man was dodged with a step to his side.

Gregori was in a rhythm. One move after another. One step after another. The previous face off against The Wolf was overwritten with the current one. A true flow of battle.

His shield came up, blocking the swing. His legs shook under the pressure of the attack almost buckling. 

And then came a repeat of the interaction that knocked him down. The kick that made The Wolf disappear from his vision.

Instead of being sent down, Gregori used the opportunity to retaliate with his axe.

A painful scream cut through the now silent battlefield.

Brokvar was on the ground, his leg severed.

Gregori eyed the man before speaking, "I will grant you a warrior's death." And proceeded to swing his axe to end the man.

WHOOOSH

Gregori jumped forward, on top of Brokvar as he dodged the chains swinging at his legs. He wouldn't fall for that again.

And then he felt a force pushing him.

Pushing him to the mage.

Gregori knew what it was.

His own magic.

That was what the mage could do. Copy one's magic.

Gregori couldn't retaliate with a pull of his own due to his injuries and so, without hesitation, he threw his axe at Brokvar's head, cleanly separating it from his body.

A scream of despair rang through the snow covered lands. The Scarmother.

But then suddenly, the pulling stopped as he collapsed to the ground.

Gregori looked up in confusion.

Sylas wasn't looking at him. No. He was looking past him. His fists clenched and teeth grit. 

Gregori turned his head as a white construct passed over him, flapping its wings.

Reinforcements had arrived.

Raising himself, he faced Sylas and placed his shield between them.

The man's eyes turned to him and with barely hidden anger, he turned around and walked back to the surviving members.

"Retreat." The Scarmother called out, her voice quivering.

And retreat, they did.

Gregori fell to his knees as they left.

The battle was more than what he had expected. His surroundings? The pristine white? Gone. Replaced by the darkening reds from blood and the soot from the explosions.

With that, Gregori lost consciousness.