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Zed stumbled into the river, the shadows of the jungle cascading over him like a warm blanket. Ordinarily, he would feel much safer in the darkness, but right now, he was preoccupied with running.
The assassin splashed through the shallow water, a hand clutching his side. Blood covered his armor and his gloves, still pouring from a deep cut in his leather. He looked over his shoulder as he fled the light he left behind, the sun's rays raining down from the clearing beyond the bushes he had pushed through.
He had just fought Yasuo in midlane, and had nearly won until both Shen and Nocturne showed up: that was why these shadows were not his friends. And right now, he had no energy to use his own shadow to travel through the stone cliffs and caves around him to guarantee escape.
Zed stopped running after the lane was completely out of his sight, having turned a corner and found a tall tree in a small clearing to lean against. Panting, Zed looked down to assess the damage done to him.
It didn't take a genius to realize he needed to recall immediately. One more hit from literally anything would send him to an early grave.
With a pained groan, Zed slid down to sit at the base of the tree and raised his free hand, pressing a button on his brace that would begin the channel back to their fountain. It was going to be a long three minutes.
"Well, well, well."
Zed's heart sank and his skin turned pale under the mask. That voice. That accent.
"Look what we have here." A beautiful, long-haired brunette appeared from the shadows, his light leather and plate armor glistening in the fragments of light that shone down through small gaps in the treetops overhead. Gorgeous blue gems floated over his shoulders, and a heavy mace twirled in his hand.
"Taric," Zed breathed, slowly raising his chin to stare at the enemy support. He pushed the button on his brace down even harder as if that would speed up the process.
"Zed. I've been looking for you." Taric eyed the assassin, a twinkle in his eyes. "And now look at you. Delivered to me on a silver platter, like homemade bread."
"Just get it over with." Zed coughed and spat blood off to his right before wiping his lips with his shoulder.
"Mm." Taric walked up to the man and stared down at him through deep and rich violet eyes. He suddenly reached down and gripped the front of Zed's armor, forcing the assassin to his feet and roughly pushing his back against the tree. The act immediately stopped the recall and took the midlaner by surprise. He could never get a good read on Taric. He was always pleasant when Zed spied on him talking to his allies, but his strength and confidence could be startling. "Let me see your face, assassin."
Taric didn't give Zed much of a choice. With his other hand, the protector slowly lifted the other's mask. Zed turned away stubbornly, but that didn't stop anything. His face was revealed soon enough, brown eyes and white hair illuminated by the light of day. Taric gently took Zed's chin in his hand and pulled the assassin's attention back to him.
"You know, you had a perfect opportunity for a gank in our lane earlier," Taric hummed, his tone almost sing-song. "Why didn't you come?"
"Just didn't notice, I guess," Zed replied.
Taric stared at him. "As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure you've avoided touching my ADC all day."
"I'm not avoiding Syndra. She's just slippery," Zed refuted.
"She has seven kills. You have five. Are you not thirsty for that shut down?"
"Why are you asking me these questions?" Zed snapped irritably. "Just kill me already, damn it."
"I think you're in love," Taric answered bluntly.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Zed opened his mouth, but confusion rendered him speechless.
It seemed Taric misunderstood Zed's silence for confirmation, and his smile widened, warm and bright like the sun. "Who am I to get in the way of love in a time of war?" He released the assassin, patting him on the chest before he turned and disappeared back into the river.
Flustered, Zed stared after the brunette, utterly lost. What was that all about? Why did he assume that Zed had feelings for Syndra? Was it an insult? A jab at the possibility he was falling for an enemy?
He needed to put an end to that rumor swiftly. He reclaimed his mask and placed it back over his head, then he pressed down on the recall button again, resolving to find Syndra when he returned and claim her bounty.
For some reason, the idea made his stomach churn.