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Upon opening his eyes, he was expecting to see red, gray, and black smear and blend together into the suffocating, gratifying haze of evisceration, sword in his hand, bloodied with viscera and brain, as the distant but blood-curdling screams of what few warriors survived his onslaught ringed in his mind, his heart breathlessly searching for a host, any host, to replace his decaying body. He was expecting to see red, gray, and black smear and blend together into the suffocating, gratifying haze of evisceration.
But he had barely regained consciousness before the blinding blue of the sky, completely absent of clouds, invaded his eyesight. He was just barely quick enough to cover his face, but his eyes were already in pain, unfamiliar with the bright colors. Brain finally pieced back together, he realized that he wasn’t supposed to be here . Turning his head, he was greeted with fresh greenery, delicately decorated with flowers, as a cold spring breeze took some of these same flowers with them.
Then he saw a white tail, tracing back to a figure he was sure he’d seen before. He could finally remember - this was the petricite gargoyle, trimmed with pure Demacian gold, sent to deter him from his mission of evisceration . But he wasn’t hostile. He wasn’t even looking - the colossus had his back turned to the Darkin, staring into the nothingness of the sky, perhaps not even aware Aatrox had awoken. Not a single word was spoken or murmured, only the tingles of the breeze preventing the suffocating silence from making its appearance. Then, in response to the sudden headache, Aatrox groaned.
“Oh. Are you awake?” Galio spoke, startling the demon. His voice was quiet, much unlike the booming enthusiasm that greeted Aatrox before their fight. “I was starting to worry you’d never get up.”
Aatrox sat, keeping his back turned just like the colossus kept his, and looked to the other side to find his sword lying next to him, clean, unscathed. He quietly grasped the handle, unsure of what to make of the situation. A minute ago, he was protecting himself from the punches the creature was throwing at him. Now what? Could this be a trap? He couldn’t trust the colossus. Not yet. The flowing silence reigned again for a few moments.
Galio slowly turned his head, looking at the Darkin. “Are you okay? You’re quiet.” Upon being questioned, Aatrox, too, turned his head, staring back at Galio. Something felt wrong. He wasn’t smiling, and there were no signs of… Hostility in his eyes, his voice still so quiet perhaps not even the humans of Demacia could hear them. Aatrox looked past him - They were outside the bounds of the city. There was no army, not a single creature outside besides them. He couldn’t be sure they were completely alone… But he had no proof otherwise. Despite his mind telling him otherwise, he loosened his grip on the sword’s handle.
“... What is this?”
“What is what?”
“Where is your army, beast? Where are your men? How do I trust that you’re not hiding something from me?” Despite his threats of figuring out the trap, he wasn’t tense. His rationality still doubted that he was safe, but there was something - Whatever it was - telling him otherwise. “Do you not intend on fighting me, like you were blurting out before?”
“No.”
… No? Even through his initial claims of waiting decades to finally fight someone his size, his power level, being the most excited he’d ever been… He won’t?
“Why do you spare me, then?”
“... It’s not a fair fight.”
Truth be told, Aatrox felt some offense by that. Why would it not be a fair fight? It was what both of them wanted, was it not? Aatrox wanted - or perhaps required - a fight in search of a new vessel. Galio wanted a fight, the thrill of going one-on-one with a brand new opponent. It just so happened the Darkin was rudely interrupted by the statue coming to life, but this wasn’t something he was willing to turn down. What was not fair? Why was he suddenly so quiet, so gentle? “Is it not the thrill of the kill you seek, colossus? I was right there. You could’ve gotten it.” Aatrox responded, looking at the creature, while he did not.
Galio slowly looked back at Aatrox, though his head was barely visible behind his golden plated wings, a small expression of worry in his face. “Why do you assume I wanted to kill you?”
The question undoubtedly startled him, but it prompted Aatrox to retort. "I have known about your people for years, colossus. You Demacians paint a façade of purity, nobility, righteousness, but kill even your own kin to maintain the status quo. You are bloodthirsty, vicious, to the point you've waged war with your neighbor for years! What would not imply you'd carve out my head as a trophy, as a reminder of Demacia's many triumphs?!"
Galio paused for a moment, completely unmoving, as if all the magic keeping him awake had dissipated in an instant. It wasn't a response he was expecting to get - It wasn't something he liked to think about. But even with his face turned away from him, he could tell the Darkin's true intentions were not that of intimidation, but provocation, an attempt to remove the guise of kindness he thought the colossus wore. He was a monument of war, for centuries brought into bloody battles between Demacia and its opponents - He had the power to bring Aatrox peace, maybe, at last.
But what he said was not the peace Aatrox wanted.
"I didn't want to kill you. I never even thought of killing you…"
The Darkin's heart sank. His hopes of freedom, crushed . He tightened the grip on his sword handle, not in preparation for an attack, but from an overflow of emotions he didn't want to feel. "Why… ?" His voice was rising in a mix of disdain and despair. "Why not?!"
"... Sorry for such an intrusive question, friend… But why do you want to die so much?"
For each word that came out of Galio’s mouth, more and more Aatrox fell into a pool of mixed, horrifying emotions that he couldn’t properly identify - His anger piling up, failing to contain the twisted tears of the disgrace he’d become, the disgrace he couldn’t ever escape no matter how hard he tried, but he felt a warmth he had never felt before. It was far from the warmth of war that engulfed him with each creature he’d slay, each body he possessed, a warmth that foggied his vision and tortured his lungs, it was the warmth of a body… That wouldn’t hurt his. It was the warmth of a hug in the face of depressing news, or an earnest smile trying to cheer up a sad face. It couldn’t save him, it couldn’t break him - But the cracks were forming. Galio finally turned his body to face Aatrox’s, hoping that, if anything, he could prove that he didn’t mean any harm.
Aatrox tried mustering whatever strength he could to open his mouth and speak as his voice became shaky. “Because for every moment I am awake, I am in pain , colossus. As if my lungs were empty and no matter how much I breathed in, no air would enter. Living is as if a thousand swords were thrust into my flesh until I rot. For years. For years. For years. I will stop at nothing to finally have this pain end, even if I have to take the world with me.”
Galio flinched, holding his own hands together. Of all things he was expecting to hear, none of them could possibly encompass what he’d just heard. “You really are willing to kill others just to… Die?”
“Anything for peace. Whatever it takes, as long as my eternal rest comes.”
Galio’s face morphed into a frown of unease, worried for the Darkin, even if Aatrox wished otherwise. He tried so hard to think about something to say in return, searching for any words of encouragement, or perhaps even just to convince him to leave Demacia’s outer borders. But nothing came. His distress failing to turn into anything meaningful, he could only sit there and stare at the ground, ashamed of himself, as the breeze once again engulfed them both, the silence seemingly tearing open a rift between the two - The only other sound heard being muffled tears.
After about a minute, quiet footsteps were heard, as Galio moved closer to Aatrox, still keeping his distance trying to respect Aatrox’s boundaries. He looked at the Darkin, not so successfully trying to hide his face from the colossus’ view, then looked to the distance. “I know this isn’t anywhere near what you go through, but… Uh…” He stuttered and snapped his fingers, trying to find the correct words. “I fall asleep when there’s no magic nearby. Strong enough magic, that is… I can see still, but everything’s hazy and going at speeds I can’t really comprehend. By the time I wake up, the humans and animals I grew attached to are already dead, and new ones take their place. I think the last time I was awake like this was maybe… I guess more than 50 years ago? Which is, uhm, a lot less than usual for me-”
“I can trade my life for your sleep. You get to stay awake anytime you want. Speak to the humans you want. Watch the creatures you want. I finally reach the end I want.”
“I would never accept that.”
“Why not? Why would you not?! All you have told me is that you want to be able to stay awake for longer periods of time, colossus. I can give you that, some way, somehow. You can give me your sleep. Is it not a fair trade?”
“ No ! … N-no. I wouldn’t do that. I think your life is as worth protecting as the little people I protect. I can’t forgive myself for any death that happens…”
“It just doesn’t make sense to me.” The Darkin said, wiping his tear-soaked cheeks. “Why do I matter to you? You haven’t given me the answer yet. You don’t know me, much like I don’t know you. Why does such a glorious creature basked in gold such as you… Seem so willing to protect me and my grotesque existence? You speak a thousand words, yet you don’t explain even one of them.”
“I don’t… Know, exactly, uhm… It’s just a feeling I had. A gut feeling, I think they say? I thought at first that you were finally the first fair fight I’d gotten in years, but it… I guess, you… Felt off. Hm…” Galio looked briefly at Aatrox before his eyes darted to the sword laying in his lap. “That. I think I saw that.”
Upon noticing that Galio was pointing directly at the pulsating heart on his sword, it was as if a switch had flicked in Aatrox’s mind. He felt exposed, naked, now wondering if maybe, just maybe, the colossus knew something that he shouldn’t - That the sword was not a mere object to be held, but the real form of the Darkin, unmoving and unfeeling, but read like a book by the statue beside it.
“I saw it, and then I saw the glow in your chest, and I felt… Wrong for trying to harm you. Does any of this make sense? As if the sword were you. I had no doubt that the mages that brought me into the battlefield would want me to destroy it, it was dangerous after all, but I didn’t want to. So I just didn’t.”
Aatrox chuckled quietly, seemingly in amusement, but in actuality, he felt unsettled. “As if the sword were me… Of all possible things that convince you not to fight me, that was it? What a pathetic excuse. You should have spared your time and kept going instead.”
“I know. They’d want that out of me too. But I still didn’t. And, uhm… Ah. I’m glad I didn’t.” A heartfelt smile developed on Galio’s face, trying once again to convince Aatrox that he meant as well as possible. Aatrox, on the other hand, finally broke, the sorrowful expression in his face melting away into one of… Surprise, as once again he could feel the same warmth from before engulfing him, but not choking. It was… Pleasant, perhaps, even if he couldn’t quite understand what was going on, or why the gargoyle treated him the way he did. Nobody was ever compassionate to him. If he couldn’t be so to himself, why would anyone else?
For once he couldn’t feel the pain. For once, he could breathe. This was, most likely, just temporary. But he couldn’t feel them. He could only stare into the distance, as did the gargoyle, both of them for the first time truly admiring the scenery upon them - There was nobody else beside them. The birds strayed away, so there was no chirping. The forest of trees, even for their size, were small, distant. Perhaps this was all that Aatrox needed for the time being.
“Your army of soldiers… Where are they now?”
“Ah! Hm… They left.”
“I can tell. But why?”
“Don’t you remember… ? Oh, right, you… Went unconscious. I couldn’t tell what happened exactly, but I think the mages in charge of me tried taking matters into their own hands once I stopped fighting.”
“They just let you stop fighting? And tried to fight me ? Ha, how… Hilarious. That isn’t the first time it’s happened to me.” He tried holding it in, but a short, barely audible chuckle left Aatrox’s mouth. Galio noticed it, and let out a smile in return.
“They gave up a little bit afterwards. I had to convince them almost by force to leave. Turns out you had more magic than all of them combined, so no attempts at shutting me up would work. I’ve been here since, waiting for you to wake up.”
“...”
“I know it’s weird, but I felt wrong leaving you all alone, even if they couldn’t do anything to you. It seems now I judged correctly… You seem to be in a good mood, aren’t you?”
“Good mood… I don’t know. I don’t remember this feeling. You could probably call it so, but I have no answer.”
“Ah… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. … Do you intend on simply… Staying here? Don’t you have your own people to protect?”
“I don’t know if it bothers you, but… Yeah, I’ll stay for a while longer. You’re fine to think it sounds weird, but I enjoy your company just as much as I enjoyed talking to you, even if it wasn’t a pleasant conversation most of the time.”
“Would you rather this over our fight?”
“Protecting people is more important to me than a good fight, you know. I can’t forgive myself when I fail to protect someone. What good is it fighting someone my size… If I am surrounded by the corpses of my people?”
“I see.”
One more time, they’d gone quiet. Subconsciously, Aatrox hoped Galio would speak again. His voice was… Soothing. But he knew that they didn’t need any more words for now. Though he had just awoken, a sudden tiredness took hold of him. He let go of the sword, setting it by his side, and laid on the ground, flowers surrounding him. Suddenly, the blue color of the sky didn’t hurt his eyes. It was welcome, even if they quickly blended into a black. There was no sound. He didn’t need any.
… Though, not too long after, he felt the rumble of footsteps again, and once again a rumble just behind him, as something quietly, softly picked up his head and laid it on what felt like… A lap. It was weird, perhaps, seeing as nobody had ever done that to him. But he knew who did it. He knew why he did it. This was one more sign of tenderness, kindness, a feeling he was finally starting to understand.
He would have to leave soon. He couldn’t stay for long, even if he wished so, because his rotting body said otherwise. The suffocation, the torture, the relentless pain, they would all come back soon. But maybe it’s better to ignore it for now. This could possibly never happen again. He had to savor it.
This place wasn’t home.
But he was safe.