Chapter Text
Normal text
Thinking
Onomatopoeia
Ahri's POV
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
My paws sunk deep into the thick snow as I weaved through the dense thicket. Long shadows were cast beside me, the extra bright moon hanging high up in the sky. The hungry darkness persistently chased behind me, seemingly hell-bent on consuming me in its darkest shadows. Fortunately, I wasn't alone in the dreary night. Because how could there be a predator that operates on its own? That would be a recipe for disaster. And if other wild beasts don't kill you, loneliness would. I was trailing closely behind a flurry of pale-blue furs. Icefoxes. Animals that only live in the northern regions of Shon-Xan. Or that's what the humans said.
The night air was windy and quiet, save for the loud crunching of multiple paws on icy ground. There was nothing in sight except for trees, bushes, snow, snow and more snow. The smell of damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean, a good night to hunt for dinner. Normally, such frigid temperatures would have spell doom for most weak critters but personally, I don't mind it that much. In fact, it was a comforting environment. One that's filled with nature and void of any human traces. Familiar territory that made me feel right at home. If I was even welcomed here in the first place.
Suddenly, a bark sounded at the front. The leader has found a safe spot for us young ones to rest. Or more like for the other runts. Despite feeling quite annoyed at stopping for a break when we had barely run for a while, I kept my mouth shut. The pack was already generous enough to let a stray like me stay amongst them, so it would be bad manners for me to ask too much, right? Besides, the other cubs were panting slightly. They're weak, which is understandable. In fact, it's normal for them to be tired after running like this. I'm the one being a weirdo for not feeling a hint of exhaustion at all. I mean, it's strange that a two-months-old baby fox could already run as fast and as far as an adult could, isn't it? Not really wanting to seem like the odd one out, I opened my mouth slightly, and let out a few quick breaths to pretend that I was dead tired when my limbs were practically bursting with energy. With this, I should be considered as one of them, right?
The pack gathered around a frozen lake and laid down while the leader and a few adults stood watch for nearby predators and any potential walking dinner. I lay prone on the soft snowy bed, all alone, watching the other kids who were somehow too tired to run but weren't tired to play and tussle with each other. They were rolling and tumbling over one another, playfully nipping each other. Some were dipping their paws into a small open section of the frozen lake surface to splash water at each other. To humans, they would probably termed this behaviour as childish. A foolish way to waste energy in such a dangerous place. They always love placing such rigid rules on themselves and live out their short lives as stale as they could be. But in this case, I couldn't really argue. Because I also thought so too. Even without gaining the memories and knowledge of my tasty meals, I too felt that such things were... pointless. Except to get oneself more prone to accidental injuries when the plays got just a bit too heated.
Well, if there's one thing useful to it, it was to establish a pecking order among the young. The other adults have their own social hierarchy in which the babies were left out of. But it didn't mean that they were safe from the confusing world of adulting. Through these pointless play fights, rungs were also established. A fox with icy-blue fur and a foolish-looking stripe running down his nose was the obvious leader who won most of the fights. He would probably be officially joining the pack as an alpha. The rest were simply too weak to contest with him. But to be completely honest, to me, the 'leader' was still far too weak to take up a leadership position. I didn't say he looked foolish just because of that stripe alone. He was, in fact, very naive. Always too rash during fights. He only won because of pure strength. Nothing else. In short, he's what humans would call 'all brawn and no brains'.
And even his prowess in the form of puny muscles wasn't really impressive to me. I mean, I could already tell just from looking at his aura, he's not cut out to be an exceptionally strong warrior. He's just... better than the current litter. I could definitely beat him with just a swipe of my paws, no magic needed. But I would know better than to do that. I learnt through the hard way, if you're the one being an outcast, it's sometimes better to just let the favoured child win. There's no point trying to prove anything when others were already kind enough to even let you enter their social circle. Just like my current situation.
When I first joined, I didn't understand all these intricate and over-complicated rules that came with being part of a group. Funnily enough, even the wild was much fairer than here. Out there, if you're strong, you decide the rules. Which was the authority I firmly held onto. But here, I was reduced to nothing more than a pathetic oddball, regardless of how strong I was. Everything was all premeditated. Even in these so-called 'fights', there's already a determined winner. And you would do best to follow such a rule. The first time I was brought back to their den, this guy challenged me to a fight. I thought it was a perfect chance to prove my worthiness to the other adults. That I was a valuable asset to be kept in their group. So I put my all into it and had him pinned down beneath me in a second.
I was excitedly waiting for the adults to praise me. But they didn't. His mother screamed at me and pushed me off of him, before babying him and checking for non-existent wounds. I thought she was mad that I hurt him, which was impossible. I had my strength completely under control. If not, he would have already been a lifeless body. I tried to reassure her but it didn't matter. In her eyes, I was already the monster that tried to kill her precious cub. Fortunately, before she could kick me out, the leader stopped her and allowed me to stay. But he did warn that if he ever saw me hurt their kind again, he would not let me off. Being my young and naive self, I didn't understand a single thing about why this was happening. But I was smart enough to just nod my head. Anything just to not be left out alone in the wild again. That was when I learnt a valuable lesson. Don't be different. Don't act differently. Just follow the social rules. As long as you follow them well, you would be treated as one of them. No matter how different you were.
The next time that weak cub challenged me again, I made sure to act weak, lowering myself to the ground in a humiliating position, one that denoted submission. That annoying thing still had the cheek to gloat over me, announcing his 'victory' to the whole pack. Despite having the urge to rip his liver out, I held back and just acted my role as the weak omega of the pack. The disgusting runt. This insolent brat continued to challenge me, with me letting him win time and time again. And him with his smug face that made me want to rake my claws across it. But like a good oddball, I kept to my role. I thought with this, I would finally be able to join in on their playtime. But that dream never turned into reality. Because that stupid thing now said I was far too weak to join in on their 'rough' plays. This had me thoroughly ticked. On one hand, I wasn't allowed to win since I was just an outsider that should be grateful to even be let in here. But on the other hand, he also refused to let me join them because I was 'too weak'. So either way, it's lose-lose for me and win-win for this fool. But I could whine and cry about this all day long, no one would give a damn about it. Because I was inherently not one of them.
I stared in envy as the foolish cubs squealed and tackled each other, rolling dangerously across the thinly frozen lake surface. Although I know how stupid this whole deal was, I couldn't help but daydream about an impossible reality where I would finally have a family and be surrounded with friends. Friends... the one thing I didn't have despite being more powerful than every single member in this pack. Despite being surrounded by so many of my kind... Can they even be called my kind? I mean, other than being the same animals called foxes, nothing about us were similar. I was brought into this ragtag group of weak animals when I accidentally wandered into their territory. I was known as a stray vastaya, a chimeric race that's capable of using magic. In my case, I supposedly belonged to the foxlike branch of that race. Or that's what all the humans noisily screeched when they had their life essence sucked dry by me. But I didn't remember anything from my birth. Which was strange since I could definitely remember every single detail, up to what I ate as my first meal. Just nothing from the first few days of my existence. The only thing that connected me to them was a pair of sunstones that's wrapped around my paws ever since I could remember. Without a place called home, I sort of spent my time wandering aimlessly through the magical forest of northern Shon-Xan. The one place that made me feel connected in this foreign world.
Anyway, I digress. The whole point was that the leader found me and was kind enough to not go through the pointless hassle of trying to rip out my throat for trespassing. Instead, he brought me to his den and introduced a weird concept of being part of a family. One that I had been missing out on in the few weeks of breathing the air of Runeterra. It was funny, really. Having a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest when you're in the middle of merciless winter. The thought of doing everything together with them was enough to send me into an excited frenzy. But I should have known such nice things would never happen to an outsider like me. Because the first thing I noticed when I saw the pack was that they all looked the same, with pale-blue furs and eyes. And how closely knitted they already were. They often do the inexplicable thing of distributing hunting spoils with one another, sharing the same drinking spot and even helping to groom each others' furs. A bond so close that an outsider like me could never slot myself into.
I looked down at my snow-white paws. Unlike their icy-blue fur, mine was white. Pure white. I was slightly bigger than the average baby icefox of the same age. And I also have unnerving golden eyes that stood out in the dead of night. Nothing about me was similar to them. Because I wasn't an icefox. I'm a vastaya. Not some wild four-legged mongrel. But I'm not a human either. I could change myself to look like one but I'm definitely not one. Not with the bushy tail and vulpine ears.
I whimpered pathetically and laid my head on the suddenly ice-cold ground. I know I'm being whiny and unreasonable here, but I only wanted to be included in their activities. It's nothing much. I don't have to be the main character like that weak brat. I just want to be a part of their boring plays.
After a few times of intentionally losing in fights, only to be cruelly rejected from taking part in their shenanigans, I slowly stopped trying. I just couldn't bring myself to trample my dignity like this again. It was clear they never wanted me as part of their squad. One of the beta adults, who saw me acting all poor and distasteful, pitied me and allowed me to join the adults' group. But even that didn't turn out well. The adults didn't know what to do or even what to make out of this weird fox. They didn't know how to include a strange-looking baby into their mundane adulting stuff. So in the end, it all went back to square one, being all alone even in the midst of their pack. It's the first time I felt such unbearable loneliness. Which was hilarious since I was absolutely fine being on my own way before I even met them...
Just like this, I spent the next few weeks being a depressed social outcast. But at least it wasn't too bad. I still had the company of the soothing forests around me. They wouldn't leave me out...
My daydream was interrupted by one of the adults barking. They spotted the pack's next meal—a deer. The cubs stopped playing and readied themselves while the other adults stood up. I excitedly shot up, thinking that there would finally be some action to quell this loneliness and boredom. Within a few minutes, we were off, sprinting after our meal. Suddenly, the sound of the deer's high-pitched screams rang through the air. Someone got to the prey first. My prey! My pupils constricted into slits as I picked up speed, wanting to stop the bold idiot from taking my lunch. The sight in front of me made me screeched to a halt a few distance away. The icefoxes also stopped.
Right in front of us was a polar bear with fluorescent purple eyes. Disgusting saliva of the same colour dripped down the gaping crevices of its jaws. This strange colour would spread from its hideous face to the rest of its body in the form of streaks of random lines. The whole gruesome sight made it look like its body was on the verge of cracking to pieces, with the bright light glowing through the cracks. A dark purplish shell encased over the top half of the bear's(?) snow-white head, covering its eyes, as well as random parts of its body. This foreign substance seemed to be digging through the bear's flesh, exposing deep red muscle tissues to the harsh winter gale. But despite all these, the bear seemed to be awfully... energetic.
My meal was clenched in its jaws, the body of the deer limp, only slightly twitching its legs to show signs of life. But not for long. The moment the polar bear spotted our group, it simply crunched through the deer's neck, cleaning separating its body in half. Both the head and the headless body fell soundlessly onto the thick blanket of snow, dying it red as blood poured from the deer's opened stump of a neck. Like the distasteful brute it was, blood dripped from this damn bear's mouth. I looked at the disgusting purplish saliva on my meal. A strange inky substance began to bubble on it, slowly spreading to the rest of the deer, covering it with the same gooey substance. Suddenly, the delicious meal didn't look all that appetising anymore. I don't even want to eat its life essence! Because that inky stuff looked nasty!
I could feel the joyful air in the pack stiffening. And for good reason. This bear... it's not normal. The fur on my tails bristled as I eyed at it cautiously. Its beady eyes squinted and it stood up on its hind legs, giving a thunderous roar that nearly ruptured my eardrums. My ears flatten downwards to shut out its noisy voice. Panic ensued in the ranks of the pack. After all, they usually avoid confrontation with strong predators like polar bears. And this happened to be a disgusting one with purple glowing stuff on its body. But all I could think of was the boiling rage at having my next meal stolen from me by an insolent beast.
The polar bear went on all fours and charged straight at us. I nimbly dodged, as with the rest. It was madly swiping its purple veiny claws at anything that moved, all of which were far too slow to catch me. I simply jumped out of the way. Despite its maddened state, it seemed like it could tell that I was much stronger than the rest since it's actively avoiding me and going for the runts. And of course, I'm not going to do something extra like getting myself involved in such troublesome matters. I just stood at the side and waited for the others to finish him off. Anyway, I'm just a baby now. So I'm actually allowed to not do anything. Just like the other cubs.
The leader barked an order and multiple icefoxes surged forward, clawing and mauling at the beast, careful to avoid direct touch with that disgusting glowing stuff. The bear was instantly swarmed in a flurry of light-blue fur, bitten and clawed at multiple areas at the same time. It might be huge, but it's slow and dumb, unable to touch anyone at all. Its roars were getting more muted and lacking of the previous vigour it had as its rapidly losing steam. Just when the leader turned around to bark more orders, the bear suddenly swiped at his neck, opening a bloody gash across his throat. The leader bucked and retreated unsteadily, collapsing to the ground while making a barely audible whine. Fresh blood bled into the snow, dying it a crimson red. The other icefoxes screamed in alarm and hurriedly finished off the strange polar bear.
Meanwhile, I froze on the spot, gazing at the leader's spasming body on the ground. I could see the familiar scene of life essence slowly ebbing away, flickering like a small flame about to be extinguished. And the very familiar pull of the fluorescent green light that's gradually fading away from his body. The very same scene I saw when I first had a taste of this real delicacy from a dying man. It was unlike any meat I've eaten before. Far more delicious. Far more flavourful. Far more exquisite.
An uncomfortable heat seared the inner walls of my stomach. It's rapidly spreading to the rest of my body, boiling it up real good. Introducing the irresistible desire to slurp up this delicious goodness. I collapsed to the ground, panting away, my gaze unmoving from the dessert in front of me. This always happened whenever I went for long periods of droughts without eating someone's soul. It would come in the form of uncontrollable cravings, hunger pangs, if you will. My body would physically shut down, my mind too delirious to think of anything else except for spiritual essence. I wouldn't be able to function like a normal fox until I had a taste of this amazing delicacy. Usually, I would solve this by sneaking out in the middle of the night and hanging at the outskirts of the forest, eyeing for any hunters that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I could go for those small critters like deers and rabbits but their short lives were not as flavourful as that of humans. Why do I love eating people's souls? Because I want to experience their wide range of emotions. It could be joy or utter depression. Anything. Just so long as it's rich and fulfilling. The added benefit of flashes of memories made this whole deal all the more sweeter. Their memories were what taught me about the interesting world outside of this forest. The world that's filled with two-legged gruff creatures. It taught me their language and everything they knew. Those humans might be an unrefined bunch, but they do possess an ocean of knowledge. Something that the pack wouldn't be able to teach me.
The icefoxes were surrounding our fallen leader, completely disregarding my plight. But that's fine. I don't want them to see the monster that I currently am now. I couldn't control my outer appearance anymore. Not with this blazing heat plaguing my body. My tail slightly unfurled into nine, my blue eyes turning back to their original gold lustre. I couldn't keep up my magic. The useless perfect little facade that I've created in order to fit in with them. And to hide away my hideous differences. Everywhere ached. My paws twitch as my brain screamed at me to stop playing pretend and just gorge myself on this rapidly disappearing food. I was dying to consume the leader's life essence. To savour and get drunk in his memories.
My pupils constricted even more as my breathing got heavier. I dug my claws into the thick blanket of snow, trying to control my desire to steal his life. Blood was pounding in my head, the heat so unbearable that it evaporated my waning rationality. Without realising, a low growl escaped from my throat. If I continued to delay any longer, all of this delicious goodness would dissipate into nothingness. It would all be wasted. And the thought of these runts getting in the way of me and my dinner was pissing me off. The final straw was when I saw the leader's partner licking his wounds affectionately.
That's my prey! Not yours!
My consciousness caved in to my mindless predatory instincts. I snarled and pounced forward, pushing the others away with my magic. The rest flew back and slammed into nearby trees. My mind was clouded in an absolute state of frenzy. All nine tails of mine flared out in an act to display dominance as I placed my paw on my prey's head, glaring at the others, daring them to take my food away. At such close proximity, the aroma of its life essence was magnified by a thousand times. It attacked my soul, calling out to me to have a taste. And that's what I did. I sank my teeth into its throat.
The moment my tongue tasted the metallic taste of blood, foreign memories flooded my mind, along with a rich variety of emotions. The most exquisite part to such crude actions—you get to witness every turning point in someone's life. Their sorrows, pleasure, joys, everything. I could vaguely hear the surrounding foxes shrieking at me to let go of my prey. But I paid no heed to such nonsensical words. I only focused on fully embracing the delectable taste of life essence flowing into my throat. It was just too good to give up.
Bits and pieces of memories surfaced in my mind. The memory of how my prey met its lover. The joy when it saw its weak newborn cubs. The sorrow when it saw one of its pack members getting mauled to death in a hunt. Everything. My prey was softly whimpering. I cooed affectionately, my paws caressing its head, just like what most humans would do to their loved ones. And now, I'm replicating what I learnt from their memories to my beloved prey, gently nudging its emotions from fear of death, to sorrow of leaving its pack members, to joy, comforting it with visions of a sun-soaked meadow, the scene it had never once saw in this frosty land. It wasn't long before the thing stopped struggling, its ragged gasping of air ceased and its body became motionless. I let go of this bland empty husk and licked my lips joyfully. It's been a long time since I last tasted life essence. And I truly relished this enjoyable feast.
Once I finally got what I wanted, my clouded mind cleared up a little. This was when I noticed the leader's mate rushing at me. I nimbly dodged out of the way, keeping a safe distance between us. She was yapping sorrowfully, screaming at me as she gently nudged her dead mate's head. The horrors of what I've done finally registered within me. I had killed my benefactor. The fox who had graciously invited me into his pack. Introducing me to the wonderful concept of belonging to a group and being loved by others. No matter how hard I tried to change myself to look like them, I couldn't hide my monstrous nature. The others were growling as they closed in on me. The mothers hid their young cubs behind them, eyeing me fearfully. As if I was going to go for young foxes that didn't live long enough to accumulate any sort of flavourful life experiences. Instead of standing alongside them, I was now at the opposite end of their fangs and claws. The intangible rift between me and the pack materialised into a physical one, where the group was split up into a them versus a monster scenario. They were snarling aggressively, baring their fangs at me.
Honestly, I didn't really understand why they were so uptight about this. The leader was dying. That's an undeniable fact. No normal animal could survive with a gaping ravine across its neck. The only inevitable end waiting for him was death. Rather than make him slowly bleed and suffocate to death, I only made the process smoother and painless for him. Let him leave this mortal realm in a happy way. So why were they mad at me for granting him mercy? Would they have preferred his precious life essence to be wasted just so that they could pretend that he was going to get out of this predicament alive? There's no getting out for him. And there's no point in wasting such good food. Just like how they always eat their prey clean to the bone, I merely made sure that everything has its uses. Including his death.
But if there's one thing I learnt in these lonely few weeks of staying with this pack, it's that there's no point trying to find reason with them. It's better to just apologise and call it a day. So that's what I did. I frantically apologised for the umpteenth time ever since I entered into their ranks. However, this time, it didn't work. These unreasonable foxes still continued to snarl threateningly, encircling me. That's when I saw their eyes. They were full of distrust and fear, as if horrified to find out that they have been keeping a monster amidst them for so long. That's when the cruel realisation dawned on me.
They have never seen me as one of them, have they?
Don't get me wrong. I truly appreciate them taking a stray like me with them. But that's all our relationship ever came to. I would always be the poor little cub that they graciously took in. That's why no matter what I did, the other cubs refused to play with me, why the adults didn't know what to do with me. Because I wasn't a part of them. I was, as what humans would call it, a tenant that's staying with them for now. I was never part of their family. Not now, not ever. And I could never be the perfect puzzle piece that slotted in to complete the beautiful picture.
In their eyes, I'm a monster that would not hesitate to turn on the hand that fed me. And the painful truth of everything was what tore my heart. The truth I've been trying to deny all this while. I thought that with time, I could finally thaw away at their cold heart. But they remained just as frozen as this damn tundra. They would never melt for the likes of me. For the oddball that they chanced upon. My actions thus far were utterly foolish and naive. It doesn't matter how I tried to hide myself to blend in with them. There's never an 'us' from the start. It was just me and the pack I happened to stay with. Nothing has changed since I met them. I was still as alone as when I was wandering around by myself.
I didn't feel threatened by the overwhelming numbers surrounding me. With my newly discovered blue flames, I was more than powerful enough to wipe them out. But still, that didn't numb the stabbing pain in my heart. I could feel the sting of their stares, as if they were piercing through my skin to gaze at my heart. My deep black heart. My ears flopped down lifelessly, my tails drooped. I didn't even bother hiding my nine tails anymore. Because there's no point when I was just too different from them.
The glares got even worse and I whimpered, turning tail to flee from this dreaded place. Screams and barks sounded from behind, along with the soft crunching of paws on snow as the adults gave chase, determined to kill the monster amongst them. But worst of all was the unbearable sting in my heart. And my eyes. Humans did say that the pain of knowing you can't get something was always far worse than the pain of knowing nothing. Because how could you feel pain when you're not even aware of its existence? For the first time in my life, I felt the urge to cry. Cry to no one but myself. My lonesome self.
I really regretted following the leader back to his den. Regretted meeting them. Having expectations. I should have just continued wandering around by myself. I shouldn't have even gotten close to the other foxes. Like this, it wouldn't have hurt so badly to be rejected...