1 Prologue I

Arnold filled up drink after drink with his chubby arms, placing the pints on the counter to be delivered to his guests by his daughter.

The greasy cloth on his shoulder carried a stench of alcohol and stew, which reminded him to check on the steaming medium-sized cauldron behind his back.

He dipped a spoon slightly into the appetizing soup before taking a careful sip. Remnants of the liquid attached themselves to his bushy horseshoe moustache.

'Perfect!' He chuckled.

"Psst. Hey boss, who be the beauty in the corner?" A hunter asked, a sloppy smirk on his face and a nod to the quietest and gloomiest corner of the tavern.

Arnold followed the nod, his small sparkling eyes landing on the cloaked traveller who had isolated herself in the shadows.

The young lady was different, yet that difference did nothing to diminish her charm. A special kind of beauty that flourished even in the dark, with only the candle at the table to illuminate her visage.

Her wavy black hair tumbled down her back and shoulders like a waterfall. Her light bronze skin, devoid of any blemish, had a smoothness the average woman lacked.

And her eyes, a mesmerizing purple that could capture the soul of any who gaze within. Along with her delicate facial features, she was stunning.

"Claims to be a traveller, a mage searchin' to *improve on her craft*." He sighed, pouring ladles of soup into bowls.

"However, it definitely ain't the truth. Wouldn't be surprised if she be a [Noxian] witch or a [Demacian] refugee."

'Another one…' The owner thought.

"I'd give it a shot, but it seems Vladmere has his eyes on this one too. I'd rather not end up being fed to the hounds." The man chuckled.

"I don't have much to live for anyway. But if I die, I don't want his ugly mug to be the last thing I see."

'Shame, I'd like to see what's underneath that fancy cloak…' He thought to himself.

"Hmph, if yer father heard those words… He'd beat ye black 'n blue." The owner grumbled with a melancholic smile as recollecting memories of the past.

"I'm getting older by the day, carrying all this weight around is getting harder and harder on the knees."

"Urgh, this again you old coot. Just hang up the axe on yer waist and the armour ye wear. Ye'd be running around like a toddler if ye did." The hunter fired back, with a frown.

"These are troubling times, I have a family to protect, I may not be in my prime but I sure as hell ain't dying without a fight." He replied.

"Why don't ye just move further north?"

"There's rumours of a demon wandering the lands, killing all who dare breathe in its presence." The owner shuddered, thinking of the tales of terrified children who somehow managed to escape.

"For some reason it lets the children live… Some have managed to get picked up by wandering tribes and merchants but most end up freezin' to death."

"Demon? Might be a troll or somethin' of the sort." He dismissed, however before he could start another sentence.

A cacophony of cheers bombarded the peaceful atmosphere.

At the very centre of the tavern was a party that had just returned from a battle, which is why they were celebrating. There were a total of eleven berserkers, clad in identical armour and carrying equally massive swords.

At the head of the table is their leader, the epitome of a true warrior. His shredded body littered with scars that only served to enhance the ferociousness barely contained in those emerald eyes.

While his subordinates drank themselves to death and partied like no tomorrow. He coldly observed everyone in the room with his everpresent neutral expression until his eyes landed on the aforementioned traveller, lighting up with curiosity and hope.

Now, the reason people disliked this man. He's a maniac. A bloodthisty, violent, ruthless and, worst of all, intelligent psychopath.

When people notice him eyeing a woman, which is a rare occurrence in itself, everyone avoids her like the plague. Travellers unaware of this rule sometimes end up dead.

Not always, but you never really want to risk it with this guy. Well [Rauma] definitely could!

But she's rarely stopped by, since her boy, [Braum] was born nine years ago.

She constantly brags the boy is a gentle soul that had inherited her strength and his father's face.

'Can't wait to see the boy when he grows up.' He smiled, until he looked back to the traveller.

Vladmere had already sat at the same table, calmly conversing with her. Their voices were drowned by the party.

Arnold felt nervous for the girl, he had heard tales of many women who had been turned into mothers of his children involuntarily. None of them ever managed to escape his grasp.

He wouldn't dare interfere at this moment, intelligent enough to know the when and how.

Much to his surprise, all Vladmere did was smile and leave the lady to her own devices after a few moments. And that smile sort of remained on his face.

'Oh? He's smiling, rumour says that he only smiles when bathed in the blood of his enemies. But it seems something has piqued his interest.'

And so, everyone went about their business. The festivities continued in full force until they received new orders.

Leaving only a few hunters and the traveller, who had now finished whatever it was she came to do. Storing all her equipment and scrolls in a small pouch at her waist.

He walked up to her table and cleared away the cutlery.

"Traveller, ye must not be aware of who that man is… But I'll have ye know, that as a father... I'd have sent me daughter to the furthest land I could find in order to get her away from 'im. Even if it meant meeting my death at the hands of the filthy knob." He leaned and whispered.

The mysterious young lady looked at him strangely at first, as if confused. Then gave him a neutral nod.

"Thank you for the advice sir, I'll keep it in mind." She whispered back as she turned her back and left with her hood and mask up, covering the warm smile on her face.

A few weeks had passed since then, Ella walked calmly within a sea of white a sizzling rune sequence floating above her head ([ ᚳᚪᛚᛘ ]).

With every step she took, several layers of snow would make way for her. She's currently walking towards the previously marked location.

Thinking of her backup plans for the fifth time, innovating just a little further on each repetition and cutting away unnecessary/faulty parts.

Talks with locals and scrying showed this place to be a legitimate neutral establishment run by a tribe historically responsible for making sure oaths aren't broken, despite this, she could never fully trust that man.

She had investigated his identity and cringed at what she discovered. However, his position in his tribe is high enough to the point where he'd be able to provide her with many precious sources of knowledge and experiments without raising a brow.

Not enough to get her an [Iceborn], but definitely enough to get her some interesting subjects like a [Witch], a [Shaman] or even an [Mystic].

Allowing her to perform all the experiments she needed without provoking some tribe to hunt her down.

She felt excited at the prospect of learning new things that could improve upon her use of [Runes], it would be a big step in optimizing her current sequences to the next level.

A prime example of this would be the [Perception Sequence], a circular sequence she casts just a few centimetres away from her eye, with her pupil at the epicentre.

Right now, it is both taxing and less effective than it could be. As seen by its length and mana expenditure.

[ᚳᛚᚪᛁᚱᚠᚩᛁᚪᚾᚳᛖ]

Her gaze pierced through the snow, allowing her to get a clear view of her destination.

At the summit of a perfectly symmetrical mountain with an everlasting storm thundering above it.

An artistic arch was built at the entrance, tiny runes linked together to form a tapestry. Starting at the lower left and ending at the lower right, separated into five parts.

She had attempted to decipher it when she previously investigated the area but whenever she got past the first chapter she would blank out and consequently forget everything she read. Causing her to give up on the eighth or ninth attempt.

There are also sculptures of two warriors on either side, one fully clad in bulky leather armour with gem-like spikes jutting from the shoulders, chest and helmet while the other wore a rangers cloak and leather armour embedded with the same material, bearing a resemblance to ice. Their body shape made it clear they were women.

The bulkier one wielded a buckler in one arm with four triangles symmetrically facing the middle.

On her other hand, she held a glaive with a blade that occupied one-third of its total length and a banner attached just beneath.

At the impressive size of eighteen meters, the young sorceress felt like she stood before an unstoppable juggernaut.

The ranger held a crystal bow, a crystal eagle perched on her shoulder. Her eyes had a strange glow to them as she gazed into the distance, giving her the feeling it could see everything beyond the intense blizzard.

A sense of danger lingered on this one, Ella couldn't figure out why. It looked much less threatening than artistic, about fourteen meters tall with a slim build.

As Ella admired its details, noticed that the ranger's electric blue eyes had suddenly locked onto her own.

An indescribable sense of vulnerability and fear surged. It made her stumble to her knees as she gasped for air. This continued for what seemed like an eternity before disappearing as suddenly as it came.

When she looked back at the sculpture, its eyes no longer carried their glow and neither did they have the uncanny life-like details they once displayed.

A normal sculpture besides its artistic value. Ella shuddered and shuffled past it into the passage as fast as she could.

After a few steps she entered, she reached a spherical cavern with molten orbs embedded into its perfectly smooth and polished walls.

The temperature and lighting were balanced at a warmth that soothed her wary soul. At the centre of the cavern was an obelisk about ten meters tall and three meters wide with a single symbol engraved on it.

[ᛃ]

Seeing the barbarian leaning against it brought their conversation in the tavern to mind.

(Flashback - Beginning)

She had only recently arrived after joining a [Noxian] expedition in search of resources and inspiration.

Deciding to stop by a small tavern and eavesdrop on some locals in hopes that something interesting would come up.

So imagine her excitement when, as she deciphered an old [Spell Binder], a party of magically enhanced warriors walked into the tavern.

Now, she would usually be indifferent to such things. However, her enhanced eyes managed to find several symbols carved into several locations of their body.

She had never seen a functional rune enhancement before, and right now there was an entire group of them.

Her eyes eventually met those of their leader. Immediately, she became aware of just how much she stared at them.

And when the man left his seat, she prepared for the worst. Grasping at one of the more powerful talismans she was gifted.

Her wariness doubled when she recognised their armour, they were part of the vicious tribe that inhabited the mountains separating the military garrison and central [Frejlord].

By the time he sat down, she had long weaved a spell in her mind, an action akin to gripping the handle of their sword to a mage.

"I will assume from your appearance that you are a sorceress from [Noxus], I wish to propose a small trade." He smiled, glancing at his subordinates.

"The twisted intrigue in your eyes was evident. So I was thinking we could both benefit from each other."

She felt exposed, but the situation was still very much salvageable. So she nodded.

"Great, now here's my offer. I've always wanted a child, the north is very unforgiving so I want that child to be capable of both magic and combat."

"My offer is that you agree to give birth to my child. And in return, I'll help you obtain both information and resources to understand whatever you were staring at."

She took her time to think of the proper wording in [Frelian], for perfect clarity.

"... You'd have to bring me live and dead subjects from your clan. Also, help me in my experiments and in navigating the terrain. I want to know legends and significant historical events too." She said as she gripped the lie detection charm at her thigh.

"I'm fine with that," He smiled pleasantly once again.

"However, we should make this deal official with an oath."

As he finished the sentence he pointed at the map on the table.

"This here is a location called [Warmothers Promise]. Run by the [Oathkeepers]. Meet me there within a week in case you wish to accept the deal."

She had previously attempted to engrave enhancement runes on living creatures yet she failed every experiment. A bizarre malformation would always be the result.

The thought of taking a step forward in an area she never managed to make progress was tempting.

If things went sour, she would be prepared.

( Flashback - End )

The warrior had great plans for the future. Plans that needed sufficient power to back them up. And what's more versatile and annoying in battle than sorcery?

He could never sense a hint of magic, he had no talent for it. So he decided to have a child who could, and then he would train the child into a tool only he could control.

With the supply of [Demacian] refugees and captured [Noxian] sorcerers at his disposal, he's already acquired three, all failures.

This would also be the first time he found a proper mother, usually, they were either dismembered or incompetent.

"So, you've taken up my offer. A wise choice…" He smiled.

Receiving only a neutral nod in return. As they walked side by side, he could sense hints of danger prickling at his skin from different areas of her body.

'She's done her research…' Vladmere sighed, the difficulty just doubled or tripled right before his eyes.

"Don't worry about them, they're here to make sure this place is kept in acceptable condition." He explained, noticing her gradually tensing up as she either sensed or saw the [Rå].

These men and women live their whole lives with the mission of keeping this place in perfect condition and making sure all promises made in the confines of this mountain are kept.

His attempt to console her didn't work in the way he intended. As seen by the way she took out what seemed to be a staff.

He shrugged and lead the way to the [Promise of Tomorrow]. As they called it, in his eyes it was just a rock that guaranteed people kept their word.

The older folk speak of it as something of utmost importance, as if it would decide whether the world would end.

"Right, the ritual is pretty simple. All you have to do is touch this thing and say 'Oath' while picturing what you want from me. The stone will evaluate both sides and create a balanced result for both of us. You will instinctually understand my side and your side of the oath once the thunder strikes the tip," He said as he patted the obelisk with his palm and looked her in the eyes.

"But you already know this."

'And the consequence of breaking the oath is to become persecuted by the land itself…' She thought to herself.

Simultaneously placing their palms on the obsidian surface of the obelisk, they uttered the word "Oath".

( A year later...)

The sorceress sat at her enchantment table, a series of diverse crystals and items organized within reach.

She worked tirelessly on an icy blue sphere with a strange device similar to what a tattoo artist would use, the sphere floated about 15 cm above the surface of the table stabilized by the array of sigils sparkling beneath.

Purple runic sentences had been weaved onto its surface in multiple layers like rubber bands.

'Finally, it's complete...' She thought to herself as she connected the last rune of the sentence to the first and placed the metallic pen back on the table.

The sphere flashed with a magical light and proceeded to zip to the centre of the room. Hovering down until it had sunk itself completely beneath the floorboards of the cosy home.

A set of similar runic sentences crawled out of the ground where it had buried itself and encased every inch of the messy room.

"[Clean up the mess. Help me get into bed.]" She commanded, a strange mark coming to life on her throat.

[ᛞᚩ]

The dust and filth gathered into a compact cube and flew out of a window that opened by itself.

A foamy sponge scrubbed the unwashed dishes at the sink, under the tap that coiled in the most appropriate angles.

Used clothes washed and dried before folding into neat piles within a wardrobe.

She watched with a hint of a smile on her exhausted face, stumbling over to a fresh bed.

'Look at all the trouble you're giving me.' She chuckled, caressing her womb affectionately.

Feeling the occasional kicks of her child.

It was hard to come to the realization of her mistake.

For the first three months of the deal, she made the most of the man's offer. The stranger had allowed her to not only access his biological runes but also the ones of his tribe members.

Providing her with an ample source of human subjects, consequently her knowledge of biological applications advanced by leaps and bounds.

She quickly went over her research, as she was carefully tucked into bed by her creation.

The warriors had 3 inscriptions on their internal organs.

The stomach has been magically altered to temporarily force the subject into a state of blind rage far beyond what anyone should ever be able to feel.

It will continuously amplify anger until the mind reaches its limit, which will also increase very slowly over time. Max duration estimated to be 4 minutes.

The heart has been magically altered to passively consume extreme emotions to increase the subject's physical parameters (strength, flexibility, reflexes, endurance, etc.) while also giving the body an elemental property dependent on the conditions they live through.

An example of this is how the warriors produce intense heat in battle, this is connected to the freezing weather.

She estimated that if the stomach rune activated, they would begin ejecting flames from their skin.

The brain has been magically altered to trigger two effects, the first and easiest to access was the ability to gather rage and bloodlust and convert it through the heart into a burst of healing energy.

The second was practically inaccessible through willing means, there was a varying quantity of primal rage stored deep within their consciousness, and if consumed, it could keep the body from sustaining any disabling damage for a few seconds.

The longest she had recorded was 1.76 seconds. An outlier, the average was below 0.5 seconds.

Which she attributed to a side effect of having children with other tribes.

No wonder they kept Noxus at bay, they were made to be immortal berserkers that only died if one of the two most guarded points of their body was disturbed.

The question is…

Who has the magical prowess to mark an entire set of humans and their future offspring with runes?

She wasn't stupid enough to think that the armies of Noxus were unaware of this. Thankfully, most of them have the stomach and mind rune dormant.

The stranger had only awakened the heart and mind rune yet he was still very formidable.

With that said, she had already obtained all she needed from the man a week ago. Her child was due tomorrow, and her end of the deal was to hand over her baby to that man.

This is where it all went wrong, memories of her childhood began to play out in her mind.

Unpleasant memories that she had sealed away into the deepest parts of her consciousness. The fear, the loneliness, the pressure, the struggle…

Would she be any better than her tormentors, whom her master had saved her from, if this child were to end up in the same situation or worse?

She knew it was a stupid decision with no benefits, yet here she was.

Hidden away in the depths of a mountain, having worked for a week straight without rest in order to finalize her workshop.

Somewhere outside, was a minor army desperately looking for her. Shamans constantly tracking her through their own strange magic.

She could feel them approach her location with every tug at her soul.

However, she was prepared. The stranger had provided her with no small amount of flesh and blood.

As a result, she had the leader within her grasp for as long as he was close enough to her.

If she can trick him into signing one of the contracts she had obtained from her organization, everything will be fine.

If she spends more than a day without him touching/seeing the child. Things would get more than just complicated.

'Everything will be fine, even if I fail.' She concluded, as she shut her eyes and entered the land of dreams for the first time in a while.

Meanwhile, the man smirked as he and his men stood at the summit of a snow-capped black-rock mountain.

"Are you certain this is the place?" He questioned the witch to his right.

"Yes," She nodded, sticking out her hand.

Blue wisps flew from her palm and created a trail leading into a small tunnel that had been blocked by an illusion.

( The next day )

The sorceress woke up early, as usual, a steaming cup of tea and a sandwich floated beside the bed.

'Seems to be working perfectly.' She thought, sipping the tea and taking a small bite of the sandwich.

A parchment flew over to the front of the bed and unrolled itself.

Analysis Results:

Stomach - [ᚢᚱᚠ] - Will be accessible from birth, at the expense of growing capacity over time, should top off around 18 years old.

Heart - [ᚱᚪᚩᛖ] - Will be accessible from birth without any trade-offs. Continuously refining his body.

Brain - [ᚻᛋᛈ╮] - Cold rage will substitute blind rage in favour of clarity.

They would soon travel the world together…

No need to delay any longer.

She could feel her pursuers had entered the elaborate labyrinth of tunnels she now called her home.

The item she had painstakingly created with precious resources could influence the tunnels in a way that would split them up and slow them down.

She still had a few cards up her sleeve in case her first plan fails.

'12 years...' She thought to herself with a sigh.

Consequences…

There are two ways of giving birth to a child capable of using magic she knew of. One will give the child guaranteed access to magic power and the other will be a game of luck.

The sorceress obviously used the first method, which involved a spirit that was often contacted by powerful mages in search of a successor.

So she did, the sacrifice included the magical knowledge she had gathered through her life, every drop of magic power she currently has and will have for the next 12 years of her life and an absolute promise that she will not only pray to it but indoctrinate her child to do so as well.

The return was the guaranteed awakening of the child's signature magic and a substantial increase in talent.

She wanted her child to be strong, just like any good mother should.

"[ Begin procedure #1 ]"

…

( A few hours later )

At the moment, her focus was on the sleeping boy wrapped in a cloth. Observing the orb of golden flames about the size of her fist where his heart should be.

Pulsating with strange energy she couldn't quite understand.

However, if one were to ask about the origins of this strange flame to the being known as [Aspects] they would all point you in the direction of…

[The Avenger]

A massive humanoid of golden flames, fueled by the actions committed by the very beings they burn.

Its method of choosing an avatar was different from other [Aspects], instead of possessing the body of a human who had managed to climb the mountain.

Preferring to spread shards of himself throughout the cosmos which would attach themselves to the most compatible hosts, creating a special connection with it.

He would then observe their feats and invest his power through the connection depending on their value.

The wrong choice would simply result in his new avatar shamefully burning themselves to death.

The right choice would result in a blessing.

Runeterra had produced several warriors blessed by his strength

None were truly compatible with his flames.

So when it felt a spirit of significant strength tampering with a shard, its first thought was to annihilate any trace of it ruthlessly.

Luckily for the spirit, the shard was already on its way to fusing with the child. When the spirit wove the shard deep into the child, forging a connection many times more compatible than natural means.

Finally, a worthy candidate has made an appearance.