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The light of dawn began to spread slowly across the horizon where the sun's first rays of the day had appeared not long before. The sky began to turn a dusty purple, stars fading away into it like the curtain being raised on the silent scene below.
What had once been a downtown park in Valoran City was pockmarked with craters and scars from a battle that had raged overnight. The countless chitinous corpses of beings from beyond that reality lay strewn about where they had fallen, legs and tentacles and eyestalks severed and left in pools of stringy, green, fluorescent blood. All was still, save for the forms of two ravaged Star Guardians who stood amid the chaos—the sole survivors of the riotous struggle.
Bruised and bloodied and gasping for air, the man clad in purple and white leaned on a great, winged mace. Long, pristine hair had fallen out of its bun and lay limp and ragged across his shoulders. Jeweled pauldrons hung from his sloping shoulders and his exposed muscles pulled at the gashes in his jacket.
The rattle of assisted breathing echoed from the guardian beside him in red, with a network of vein-like wires and tubes connecting man and machine into a single being. One of the pipes attached to his nose and mouth had been slashed open in the fighting, and crimson, sparkling magic dripped occasionally from it onto his malformed torso. The turret mounted to his arm pointed lazily at the ground beneath his six golden, mechanical feet, dented and in need of repair but with its work completed. Red smudges across his legs were not clearly blood or magic, but some combination of both.
“... It's just us, isn't it, Urgot...?”
“It seems so, Taric.”
“We should... We have to find them. We can't leave them here,” Taric swallowed hard as he got to his feet.
Urgot didn't answer.
Stilted motions and whining servos carried the brute into the battlefield to begin the search for the guardians' fallen comrades, dragging his tattered red ribbons through the muck. The other began to trudge unsteadily off in the opposite direction to cover more ground. They moved like puppets on strings, broken and awkward, moving forward almost against their will. Taric's mace slipped from his grasp as he lost the will to carry it, and he began using both hands to dig through the pile of insectoid carcasses closest to him. Urgot flicked aside rotting voidbeasts with chains of red light, unable to will his one good arm to action.
The search was peppered with the occasional tired sigh, the sound of clacking shells tumbling over one another, and the squelch of blood underfoot.
“I... I am going to offer a prayer for them. In case there is nothing left to recover,” Taric huffed after he had reached the bottom of the heap. “I will search as long as it takes, of course, but...”
Urgot grunted his acknowledgment but continued to make his way through the battlefield.
The guardian in purple fell to his knees and clasped his hands together.
“O First Star,” he whispered against a soft breeze, “hear me. Find their souls and pull them back into your radiance. Let them be reborn someday; do not abandon our siblings to the darkness.” His brow furrowed and his jaw set in a stern expression. “Do not forsake the ones who have fought for your light, whom we knew as—”
“Do not speak their names,” Urgot hissed, his voice rattling in his mask like a snake's tail. “I cannot bear to hear such weakness.”
“I do not think that they were weak,” Taric answered, placid, as he pulled himself up straight. “You and I are living proof of how much the stars require of us—how they've demanded so much of us, body and soul. The others weren't weak; they simply did not have as much to give as we did, and the stars took everything from them. That isn't weakness. It's sacrifice.”
There was a long silence. Both men knew that he spoke the truth.
“You gave as much as any of us, Urgot. When you were captured...”
“Yes... When they tried to turn me into one of them, and they turned me into this instead.”
Not a day passed that either of them didn't think of it. Many, many battles ago, they had nearly lost Urgot to the enemy. He fell into their possession and it was then that the Star Guardians had first gotten a taste of what terrible torments these strange creatures could inflict besides death. When they recovered their brother, he was broken and shattered. He would certainly not have survived, if not for the power of the First Star holding him together. It was arduous, but the combined magic of the four other guardians was enough to help reform him.
But Star Guardians cannot reignite what light has been extinguished, and Urgot was never the same.
Magic seeped into the twisted machinery riveted into his skin and bones, and made it a part of him—but this was not a cure. Every one of them was acutely aware that if he ever lost his transformation, Urgot would not survive. He would lose his blood, his breath, and his life. He could never again return to the normal days he had lived before. The only thing holding him together, even now, was the magic of the First Star. And in return, there was the unending demand that he do battle for the sake of the light—so long as he was sustained by that power, it required his service. Until he could serve no longer.
“... But I still have my mind, at least,” Urgot added as he resumed his search.
“You... do,” Taric sighed, getting back to work himself.
This, too, was a topic of constant awareness among the guardians. Taric was not sure who or what he had been before he was a Star Guardian, only that he had sought the strength to atone for some great sin. So fervent was his desire to protect humanity as his penance that the First Star had granted him great power—at great cost. His life before that point was a hazy memory at best, but the real problem was much more imposing. At times, his personality disappeared from him and his thoughts were not his own; the First Star used him as a vessel. Calling this fusion of itself and its guardian the Aspect of the First Star, it spoke with his voice or acted upon the world with his hands. In the worst of cases, he would come to his senses in a strange place, having been unaware of himself for hours, or even days. Plans he made were often ruined and friends abandoned him for what they perceived to be his flighty nature. In the end, he was left with only the other Star Guardians to surround himself with. The First Star seemed to care little for its thrall's happiness; only for how he might best serve.
He was careful not to let the others see the degree to which it troubled him and tried to remain emotionally distant in order to maintain a facade of hope, but Taric knew that the day would eventually come that this possession and isolation would be the death of him.
“I think I have one,” the red guardian called as he lifted a broken blue crystal in the shape of an eight-pointed star free of a pile of gore. He studied it briefly as the chain released it into his palm, and then held it aloft between his thumb and finger for the other to observe. There was a faint glow about it, pulsing softly like breaths before the last. “There is no corpse left here. Only this.”
“That's—I see.”
It had not been immediately apparent, but viewing Urgot standing where their ally had fallen, it became clear that the surrounding voidbeasts had met with great resistance. The guardian in blue, chosen for a single-minded, determined nature, had certainly lived up to that promise. The ring of broken creatures, piled high and radiating outward where the last stand had been made, was a powerful testament to that. Urgot's hand tightened into a fist for a moment as he admired that strength.
“... Did you see where the others went down?”
“No... I'm not sure.”
Urgot grunted again and resumed the search. Taric gave a sigh as he climbed over another hill of bugs. Another silence followed, punctuated occasionally with the distant chirping of birds calling for their fellows as more light seeped into the morning sky.
“... I cannot imagine what we will do from here,” the purple guardian mused, more to himself than his partner. “With only two of us... with no leader... Can we even continue fighting like this?”
“We do not have a choice.”
The gurgle of Urgot's voice was angry this time. A rage simmered just below his surface, knowing that the stars would use them and use them up, even in this condition. Especially in this condition.
“That... is true,” Taric forced the words reluctantly from his mouth. “The stars care not for us; they would prefer us dead and reborn if we can no longer fight. I know we have been through it before, but... I am still afraid. These people we are now, these identities we've built, will still die, even if we survive to become someone new.”
“Rebirth is not for us. It is for the First Star, so that there will always be a guardian to protect it. We are expendable.”
Urgot's measured anger shut down any response Taric could muster before he could even begin to contemplate it. He felt briefly foolish for even having tried to start a conversation, but was distracted by a dim glimmer as he moved a voidbeast aside.
“Ah! I've found...” Taric held high a pair of fractured eight-pointed crystals, green and pink, as he pulled them from a pool of sticky, glowing blood.
“Hm... Together until the last.”
“Of course.”
Taric clasped them tightly in his hand. The pink guardian, chosen for a sensitive, leaderly nature and the impulse to look out for one's own; the green guardian, chosen for the aptitude to mend and protect, even at the expense of ferocity. A team, even within their own team, who had fought with their backs together until they had nothing left. His breath caught for a moment as he paid silent respect to that bond.
“We should leave,” Urgot offered when he judged it had been long enough. “The sun will be here soon. Are you well enough to walk?”
“I... I believe so.”
The unlikely pair limped out of the ruined park toward the canal running through the city. It was not far, but their exhaustion made even the short distance seem unbearably far. Urgot, even with as many legs as he had, fell behind. Taric faltered and caught himself on the railing of the bridge over the water.
Sunlight streamed, triumphant, over the city.
Bit by bit, the shadows of buildings cast onto the park were chased out and light returned. As it did, wounds in the grass and the earth flickered in and out of existence. Alien blood and flesh staggered, like reality itself was a record that had gotten stuck. Magic seemed to hum in the air as the gears of the world ground to a halt. Two weakened guardians did not have sufficient power to trigger this restoration, but Runeterra had been blessed by one star close enough to help when its guardians fell short.
A great, sparkling wind rushed outward suddenly and ruffled the watching men.
Urgot and Taric both held the enchanted air in their lungs as it passed over them, and felt their bodies reinvigorated. All at once, the scene collapsed. Lampposts stood straight. Every blade of grass returned to its proper place. Every last speck of dirt was just as it had been the day before. Everything, down to the last misplaced piece of litter and the tiniest cricket, returned to normal under the first touch of the sun. That which did not belong and that which it had wrought vanished without a trace.
“... Like nothing ever happened.”
“Like nothing ever happened.”
They stood and watched for a moment, as if they were unsure that the fixes wouldn't just undo themselves as quickly as they had been done. Taric leaned his weight on the railing with both arms. Urgot slouched as he shifted in his armored shell. A gentle peace swaddled their hearts now that the danger had so visibly passed. Warm starlight seeped into their skin. A spark of life began to rekindle itself in the two guardians.
“Urgot...” Taric started with a grim smile, still looking out over the park, “Do you think it would be kinder to prevent them from being reborn? It would be simple enough, to grind their crystals to dust; to release them from this cycle. Even if we didn't... would it be best to find them again and prevent them from taking the First Star's offer next time?” His smile broadened a little. “Am I weak for thinking like that?”
“It takes strength... to defy a being like the First Star. A god, a demon—whatever it is.” Urgot rested his arm across his stomach while he tried to find the right way to word his thoughts. He kneaded the blue gem in his fingers when he spoke again. “If they wish to choose to fade away like ordinary people do... it is best to let them come to that decision themselves. Let us not rob them of the opportunity to become strong.”
Taric held the green and pink jewels out over the railing so that the sunlight could fall on them.
“... Yes. You're right,” he said as he ran a thumb over one of the fissures in the stone. “We can't decide that for them.”
Urgot turned his hand so that his palm was open, exposing the blue crystal to the sun.
“It would hold no meaning if we did.”
The artifacts of the fallen guardians took the light into themselves and began to dissolve into a soft, glittering haze. The two men watched, captivated by a sight both familiar and foreign. Motes of magic drifted away on the breeze, blending into the fading stars and the setting moon.
“Should I prevent you from being reborn? When it comes to that,” asked Urgot, not taking his eyes off their departing friends.
“No... Not yet,” replied Taric, leaning more fully into the rail. “Not until I find out what it was I wanted to atone for—not until I have atoned. What about you?”
“Hmph. Of course not.”
“Oh?”
“It may be a kind defiance to refuse its will... but there is no true strength in laying down to die. I will rise again... as many times as I must. Until I am stronger than the First Star.”
“Hm. I see. Then it seems that you and I will be brothers for a while longer, then,” he smiled. “Shall we head back before the city wakes up?”
“Yes,” Urgot deadpanned as glittering magic raised him into the air. “We wouldn't want them to see something as indecent as you.”
“Certainly not,” Taric shook his head as his boots pulled away from the concrete. “Not all of us get as much beauty sleep as you do.”
The two streaked off across the morning sky, like a pair of vibrantly-colored comets. Grim banter was not enough for either of them to even fake a laugh, and the ensuing silence only drove it home. It would take more than rest and tears and humor and time to heal their losses. They knew this. It might be a very long time or almost no time at all that they would have to continue fighting on their own. They knew this too. The life of a Star Guardian was not always glamorous; sometimes it was pain and loss and struggle. But this was the path that they had chosen—all five of them, each for their own reasons.
Both guardians tried to remember those reasons, tried to remember how important those things had seemed at the time, tried to remember the reasons they had found along the way, and tried to decide if it had been worth the First Star's price in the end.