Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once there was a soul.

Said soul had many ambitions, dreams, and goals. It strived to make them all. To be the most powerful, the most famous, and the most noble. It did not take long for people around the soul to be aware of its effort. They recognized it and praised it. The words went far and reached the emperor of this kingdom. Shortly after, the soul was recruited into the renowned army.

It fought for its country for years and years. It rose through the ranks. From the bottom to the top. It got to fight a war alongside the strongest swordsman, the righteous archer, the wise assassin, or even the merciful healer. Every battle came with victory. Anything and anyone who dared disrupt the peace of the empire must be eliminated.

The soul's loyalty lay with the kingdom. And the emperor understood the importance of that loyalty. So the soul and its comrades were rewarded with an Ascension. The power of god was in the palm of the human. The troops of iron armor became the soldiers of gold. This is the time that the soul shined the brightest. It achieved everything it had hoped for. Unfortunately, this may never last.

The Icathia war began.

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Once there was a soul.

It used to be so bright it blinded its surroundings. It used to be an archon of light and a beacon of order. It was named a sun descendent at one point. But everything changed when that soul was thrown out into the void. They twisted every mind they came across. It became a permanent scar that may never heal. With the shell of reasoning broken, the feral instinct deep within the soul's mind came out.

It became death, the destroyer of the world. The taker of life and the bringer of the end. Doom was one of its many names among its peers. But in reality, it was just a deeply broken soul. A huge chunk of itself was beyond repair when its homeland was in shambles. The only things that could fill that space in its heart were anger and destruction. Many of the same destinies followed suit. And soon, they all were stopped by Myisha.

The punishment was brutal. One might even call it a fate worse than being dead. It was like paralysis but a hundred times worse. It was like you wanted air but every muscle in your being doesn't allow you to breathe. It was like you were being mute, deaf, and blind all at once. But this only fueled the soul's fury. How dare the celestial do this to him. One day, they shall pay. Them and this cursed land.

The soul awaited, in its scythe.

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Once there was a soul.

It laid dormant for millennia. It had time to either reflect or resent. It chose the latter, as its mind was not capable of guilt for a very, very long time. It dreamt of revenge. It fantasized about freedom. The moment arrived when someone picked it up. But the overwhelming force of its nature consumed that life so quickly the soul couldn't act upon anything.

It could only catch a glimpse of the world long past its era. Oh how much the soul wanted to ruin that sight and everything surrounding it. It had no other choice but to attract itself to any living being it could find. Such was the essence of a Darkin, the parasites of the earth. They took what wasn't theirs and destroyed anything they couldn't take. This soul was no different.

Years had passed. Its patient was rewarded when, finally, a human touched its solid handle. One with a soul that could withstand its intense hatred. A perfect body for it to conquer. The single thought it had was to win the mind war and lay waste to this land. But the old soul quickly realized it wouldn't be an easy task. As the human soul had both the power and will to resist it.

But it won't be as quick for the broken soul to realize it has found its soulmate.

The one who can quench its thirst for blood and bone. The young soul which can mend the lasting scar it thought is incurable. The human that can keep its company after a long time spent alone. And in turn, the soul too will heal the human's trauma. All of this isn't in the soul's mind at all when they meet each other. But in time, for as long as needed, it will be realized.

Day one has started.

Chapter Text

In front of them is a buff Noxian soldier. Probably the leader of this camp.

The assassin smiles.

"The bigger they are,"

The scythe chuckles.

"The louder they scream."

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Tonight's mission is a slaughter fest. Kayn is satisfied with the result. Rhaast is satisfied with the killing. They rest among the mountain of corpses. Bathing the bloodlust floating in the cold night air. It has been months since he infected Kayn's mind with dark thoughts and violence. But Rhaast still has a thing or two he doesn't understand about his host.

"You know." The weapon speaks. "If you like this view so much, you can just kill everyone at a random village."

"This is enough for me." The human responses.

He sighs, even though he doesn't have a mouth. "What about your annoying brothers and sisters at the monastery?"

Kayn frowns. "Just stop with your nonsense suggestion."

Rhaast knows him better than anyone. Kayn has an impulse for violence deep within. That is for sure. However, his attempts to engulf Kayn with that desire are not very successful. Of course, he expects it to be harder to ask someone to murder their allies and easier if it is their enemies. But it still surprised him how... aggressive Kayn can be when it comes to the Noxus. And not to the others.

It almost reminds him of Varus, one of his siblings in arms, and how he used to torture the enemies of the empire. It always seems so personal. Kayn's bloodlust too, seems like a grudge. Maybe it's finally the time Rhaast has to use his Darkin power to drive deeper into his vessel's psyche. Learning more about the human's background and using that to his advantage.

He never did that before because their connection was shallow at the start. Now that they have been together 24/7 for half a year, it is deep enough for Rhaast to sneak around Kayn's mind unnoticed. He might not get that many details. But it would be enough to further his conquest. He keeps quiet while the assassin boy returns to the monastery, then retreats to his bedroom.

In slumber, Rhaast wanders in the human's mind like a specter. Looking for the source of anger and bitterness so that he could use it as one of his cards. The vessel won't have an upper hand for long, he hopes. His clue is Noxus. So he dives into Kayn's earliest memory about Noxus he could find. To his surprise, it was as early as when he was born.

Kayn wasn't born in Ionia...? He thought he was. That's why he sometimes asks Kayn if other Ionians are as confident as the young assassin. Even when Rhaast holds the memory closer to his red-piercing eyes, he still can't see much of it. However, he can sense that it was bad. Real bad childhood. Shame he can't taunt the boy with a vague gesture. The detail was lost to time. He finds the next one.

One of the memories catches his eye. It is a few years later than the first one. He sees a boy in some sort of military camp with other children. The adult soldiers who train them don't look like Ionians, if anything they look like those Noxians Kayn had killed so many times before. This memory reeks of resentment. But it is still pale compared to the next one Rhaast found.

Oh, the hatred in this one is enormous. The Darkin watches how little Shieda fought for his country, how it used him, and how it abandoned him. Left to rot and die. So this is where he started, he thought. Since then, Kayn's killer impulse for Noxus only grows. Every bloodlust has a humble beginning. And, somehow, Rhaast can empathize with this beginning.

He understands it all too well, the feeling of abandonment. One second you served your homeland with everything you had. Another second they called you a fallen, a traitor, a tyranny. The burning passion to prove them wrong. To teach them you're more than just useful. To make them regret for deserting you. The loathing in those small golden eyes doesn't look too different from Kayn of the current time.

Rhaast pulls this memory closer to his chest. Holding on to it until the morning comes.

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"Cut the throat of that one."

"Put me through their chest."

"Slice them in half."

"…You are pretty talkative today, Rhaast."

"Huh?"

"You never backseat me this much before."

"Maybe I just have a bloodlust."

Their shared hatred.

"You always have a bloodlust."

Their shared resentment.

"You too."

Their shared bloodlust.

Chapter Text

"Kayn."

"Kayn..."

"Kayn!"

It is so hard to concentrate when someone is screaming in your mind. This makes training a nightmare. It has been almost a year and Shieda Kayn can't get used to it. He can't ignore it either. The young assassin stops swinging the weapon. He looks at Rhaast in the eyes. Waiting to hear what he wants to say, although he has a guess or two.

"You haven't rested all day long." The Darkin says. "Just go eat and bathe or something."

Kayn rolls his eyes. "I don't need that. I need more training. An Important mission is coming up in a few days."

"I know, you idiot." He can hear anything his vessel hears anyway. "Yet you are still pushing your limit. You are treating your body badly."

"And if you want to make it better, you have to steal my body yourself." Kayn fakes a surprise. "Oh wait, you can't do that! Because you're weak."

"You brat..."

The boy wants to laugh at that insult, but admittedly he is too tired to do so. He has been training in the dojo since he woke up and now the sun is already gone. He won't listen to Rhaast for another thirty minutes before his body gives up for real this time. He finds something to eat. He finds some time to bathe. And he finally puts the scythe down in the corner of the room. Resting his head on the pillow.

However, he still doesn't feel like sleeping yet.

"Kayn-"

"Ugh, I know. But I don't want to, okay? I am a weapon. A weapon doesn't rest." There is silence in the room. Kayn thought Rhaast would say nothing more, but he was wrong.

"You are not a weapon, Kayn."

The human frowns. "Of course I-"

"You're a human." The scythe at the corner of the room says. "You have your own body. You can move freely with your own will. You have a place to go and call home."

"...." The vessel goes quiet. The atmosphere is different somehow. He doesn't know why. Is it because of the topic at hand?

"You even have... you know, someone who cares about you like you're his son." The eye on the heel rolls itself. "I don't. Not anymore."

Kayn doesn't know how to respond. It is the first time he hears Rhaast in such a tone. The things he said sound so personal. It must be. It is just that the young human never learns the scythe's history. He never needs to. The Darkin realizes he is speaking too much and closes his giant eye on the blade. But not before he commands the assassin one last time.

"Go to sleep." He says. "I don't like a restless host."

With the connection they have now, Kayn can sense that the entity within the weapon is indeed retracting himself into a deep slumber. The boy, however, can't clear the cloud in his mind. What was that? What was Rhaast talking about? Is that how he feels? He is aware that Darkins used to be warriors who were imprisoned in weapons. But other than that? Blank.

Who is Rhaast when he has his own body that can move by his own will? Where exactly was his homeland? When did it become somewhere he can't return to? Did he have someone whom he cared about? Or someone who cared about him? How did they lose all of that? How did it feel to lose all of that? What was it like to be just a tool... a weapon?

It is thoughts that keep him up at night. And he can't find the answer elsewhere. The golden eyes stare at the scythe he has been using for almost a year now. He might ask him about it in the future. Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Some days. He doubts Rhaast will answer though. Maybe he is too tired his brain can't think straight. Kayn forces himself to sleep.

For one night, he is a human. Not a weapon.

Chapter Text

"Come again?"

What Kayn just hears from his master makes him freeze and forget to be polite entirely. It sounds like an overreaction but it isn't. Rhaast, the scythe on his back, is on the same page as him. The shadow master sighs. He knows the boy would act like this. But he still chooses to call him in and tell him the news. Zed speaks again, the same sentence as last time.

"I order you to put that blade away for a couple of weeks."

"WHY!?" Kayn cries out, before calming himself. "Did I do something wrong? I have been putting Rh- the scythe under control for a year and a half now. I know very well what he- it can do. I can't trust other acolytes won't take it while we put it away inside a case somewhere!"

Zed already prepared the explanation. "We will have a guest very soon. And the last thing I want them to know is that we possess a Darkin weapon."

"Well, they must be under the rock to not already know me and my tool-"

"Kayn."

The coldness in his master's voice gives him goosebumps. The young acolyte rarely feels this way unless he's on the same battlefield with his master. He may have seen Zed from many angles, including when he was vulnerable. But that doesn't mean the shadow master is weak or indecisive in any way. He still knows how to assert his dominance. He knows how to shut Kayn the fuck up.

"I did not ask you." He says, in the same tone. "This is an order."

And that is all it takes. Of course, he's still pissed. His face says it all. But he won't argue anymore. It's the opposite of the voice in his mind, though. As it grows louder and louder because of annoyance. Rhaast likes to mock Kayn when he obeys Zed so easily, this time is no exception. Zed pulls out a giant case. They both know what it is for.

"Put it here and go to rest." Zed's brown eyes look straight at him.

"...." There will be opposition. And while Rhaast still screams at him to not do it, Kayn obeys once again.

The young assassin watches as his master handles the scythe with the highest caution. Minimal the risk of getting corrupted by Darkin consciousness which Kayn always warns him about. The case is closed without any direct contact. Ready to move. However, Zed intends to be the only person who knows where this dangerous thing is stored. So he won't let Kayn follow him either way.

The boy finally sighs when he is out of the room. It's eerie how quiet his head is now. He hasn't been 'alone all by himself' for literally more than a year now. It's a bit scary to realize how having a brain roommate became a routine for him. Or worse, it became a comfort- No. That is not true. He and Rhaast are still rivals fighting for dominance and power. Nothing more, nothing less.

Maybe it is a good time for Kayn to sharpen his sense, skill, and will.

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How DARE they!

How dare they DECIDE to put him here, in a stupid old case, and hide him away from this world? How dare they DENY his bloodlust for this petty reason? How dare they think THIS would be enough to cover his existence? How dare Zed, the shadow master, speak of HIM like an inanimate object? And most importantly HOW DARE KAYN, HIS DUMB VESSEL, LET ALL OF THIS HAPPENS??

Kayn knows better than anyone how PISSED Rhaast would be if he goes through with it. And yet he still LET HIM DOWN. The Darkin is SCREAMING out of his non-existent lung. Filling an endless void with RAGE. The fact that he doesn't have a mouth is the ONLY reason the entire Shadow Order's monastery (or wherever he is right now) doesn't hear him yet.

Ugh, why does he feel such BETRAYAL though? It's almost like... Rhaast DOES want and expect Kayn to keep him around. (Which the host DOES mind you.) However, it still doesn't make sense WHY he of all people should care THIS much about a couple of weeks in a closet. He had been through something WAY hasher, a millennia even.

...Rhaast does not want to dwell on this thought any longer, so he opts to scream his non-beating heart in anger.

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"So, it's been a week now."

"Since we stored the blade, yes."

"Since you decided to store the blade."

"And?"

"...Can I get him back now?"

Kayn hasn't tried this for, like what, ten years now he supposes? But the puppy eyes tactic used to work wonderfully on Zed back then. He knows he isn't quite as adorable as the little Shieda from many years ago. But still, it's worth a try if it can get him what he wants. Which is to get his signature weapon, the Darkin scythe, back to him. Zed sighs.

"Kayn, this is three days in a row you ask for this."

"I know! Every warrior needs their best tools, don't they?"

"You have mastered every weapon in the Order already. You can use anything. Why would you need this specific one?"

"I..." -don't know why either.

"Is it because it can talk?" Zed narrows his brown eyes. "Don't tell me you form a connection with such things?"

"WHAT? NO!" Kayn cries out loud.

"Then wait it out for another week." The shadow master concludes. "And stop asking me about it."

He complies. "...Yes, master."

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There is only so much angry screaming you can do in the void.

If a tree fell in a forest and nobody is watching, does it happen? Does it matter? This is the situation with Rhaast and his rage. He doesn't know how long it has been or how much longer he has to wait. At some point, he stops. He isn't sure why. He isn't in the mood to look for an answer either. He just wants to do something else. So he does.

Rhaast is finding some memories to relive.

He doesn't like his memories from the Shurima era. There are so many frustrating things about his past self. He doesn't like his memories during the Darkin War either. While it was fun, it will only remind him of how it ends. And he sure as hell is not going to relive memories of the millennia he spent inside the scythe when he is doing exactly that right now. He's desperate for something. But then, he finds it.

He finds some memories that aren't his own.

It must be because he used to sneak around Kayn's mind a lot. He might hoard some of his vessel's memories with him. Rhaast starts to relive those. One minute he is in Noxus. Another minute he is in Bahrl. And then he is in Navori. He skips some. He repeats some. Some of Kayn's memories even include him now. It makes sense for how long they have been together.

It makes him feel some of the emotions he lost long ago. Sometimes, happiness because he likes to think he's a significant part of human life. Sometimes, sadness because he isn't living that now. All of these aren't something he likes to admit. But the silence forces him to look into himself. At the current time, Rhaast feels bored, hollow, and probably depressed.

There is only so much comfort he can find in the void.

Shieda Kayn is, unfortunately, one of them.

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It took Kayn five days and five nights straight for him to finally admit his feelings.

Fuck, he misses Rhaast.

That scythe bastard is the best and the worst thing that ever happened to him. It gives him power. It gives him company. It gives him something he feels worse to live without. It becomes so obvious when they're separated. He can't deny that anymore. So the only hope he has left is to just let it all out of his system before he gets his hand back on the blade. The Darkin is the last person he wants to be aware of.

Even Master Zed must notice now. Good thing he seems to not punish him for it. Kayn concludes that everything will be back to normal after he gets Rhaast back. They are mortal enemies. They are meant to fight internally until one of them devours the other completely. They aren't supposed to be 'friends'. Gods, he bets that asshole doesn't even miss him.

...All these thoughts, worries, and preparation go right out the window the moment his fingers touch the long handle of the scythe.

"Kayn? Is that you??"

"You bet I am."

"Your heartbeat... It's faster than normal."

"Stop talking nonsense. I have a training session soon."

"Fine." Followed by a sigh. "Just make sure you rest properly after."

"Whatever you say, Rhaast."

Chapter Text

"Achoo!"

Look, Kayn doesn't hate long missions. But it would be a lie to say he enjoys traveling to the northern part of Ionia at the end of the year. Kayn doesn't like winter very much. He always finds it bothersome. He is confident in his agility so he doesn't wear armor very often. But outside of fighting, temperature is his worst enemy. You have to wear even more! Ugh.

"I hear crazy people can't catch colds."

Golden eyes look at the scythe at the corner of his tent. The red eye stares back at him. They have been together for more than two years now. However, the tool is still as annoying as ever. But it is certainly better than suffering alone. That's for sure. At this point in their relationship, they understand each other's speech pretty well. Kayn knows Rhaast is worried for him.

"It must be nice to not be able to feel cold. Or feel anything, for that matter."

Kayn bickers back. His reward is Rhaast's groaning. But he knows deep down that Rhaast likes his humor. Still, there is only so much talking can do. It helps keep him distracted from the cold breeze. But he needs a rest. And he can't do that while talking or by being frozen to death. While he's trying to find a solution, Rhaast utters something baffling.

"I am pretty warm too, y'know."

"Huh...??" What the hell does that even mean?

"You never put me close to you when you sleep."

Kayn narrows his eyes. "Yeah. Like I will let you near my head."

He hears laughter. "We both know distance doesn't matter to our connection."

"Whatever you say." The boy sits up. "So you suggest putting your cold steel body beside me."

"If it is that cold, then you can put me back here anytime."

The vessel considering. But Rhaast knows it's already decided since he gets up. The young assassin picks the giant scythe up like it has no weight. The handle is warmer than the air around him. The blade's steel flesh is pulsing like a living being. Maybe it has always been like this but he just never noticed until now. Kayn brings it back to his sleeping bag and lays it down beside him. It's warm. Warmer than before.

"You're not lying... How is this possible?"

"Tsk. You talk like I am a normal scythe."

"Ha." He laughs. "The breeze makes me forgetful, I guess?"

Red bright eye looking directly at him. "Now sleep. I don't like a restless host."

Despite his previous note, Kayn puts his head closer to the heel of the blade. He remembers something about Rhaast coming from Shurima, the desert empire. Maybe that's why his body is so warm. He pulls the weapon to himself. It's a bit weird to hug your killing tool. But who's going to judge him in the middle of nowhere? Come to think of it, they are never this close. This intimates.

It's a shame this is all the Darkin has left. It would be nice if there were arms that hug him back. Or a chest that Kayn can bury his forehead on. Anything that indicates this is a living, breathing being. Not a long stick with a giant blade on top of it. He bets that Rhaast would love it too. It is all that he ever wanted. A body. His body. He isn't sure exactly when that changed.

The vessel used to shy away from all of these thoughts, afraid it would only empower the demon within the inanimate object. But at some point, he too changed his mind. No one knows why. Kayn doesn't talk about it. Rhaast doesn't talk about it. They keep quiet while hugging each other to slumber. Well. More like Kayn hugging his scythe, but whatever works.

The warm aura won't leave him until the morning comes.

Chapter Text

It isn't often for Rhaast to be the voice of reason between the two of them.

"Kayn, I think you are drinking too much now."

But this time, he certainly is one.

"NooOOOooo, you can't stop me either way~"

Sometimes when Kayn is out on a mission far away from Zed's territory, he can get pretty rebellious. He is a kid after all. One of the rules at the monastery is about alcoholic beverages. Shadow master finds them to hinder their progress and prohibits them. However, Rhaast still saw a lot of acolytes on missions who drank from time to time. Kayn included.

It's just... a bit too much this time around. He has been suspecting the boy bit more than he can chew since he saw him buy all this stuff. Kayn doesn't normally drink heavy stuff even if given the chance because he has to keep his guard up from the Darkin. If you're too drunk to control your body, someone else is going to do it for you. However, the vessel has been pretty careless lately.

Like he is aware bad things won't happen anytime soon.

He's right, even if Rhaast hates to admit it. The first thing he thought when the boy started to chug down those drinks wasn't ‘Finally, I could use this to my advantage!' but 'Is he going to be okay?'. Unfortunately, the answer is no. Fortunately, they are in their bedroom in a relatively peaceful and quiet inn. If anything happens, Kayn can just crash on the bed. No harm no foul.

"You should go to sleep."

"I dun wanna~"

Since Kayn starts to feel comfortable letting Rhaast on his bed. He never really let go. The Darkin doesn't want to tease him about it either. He's afraid of the backfire. Going back to the distance they used to be. He likes it better like this. The closer they are, the stronger the connection. And right now, he can sense something anxious from within his host.

"Why?"

Kayn's muttering would be hard to understand if they weren't this close. "Nightmrah."

The scythe is aware of the bad dreams Kayn experiences sometimes. It used to be his leverage against the human. Because every time he mentions it, Kayn will always evade his question. He hasn't asked about that for a long time now. And while he knows vaguely what that nightmare looks like, it will always have context he misses. Because it isn't his dream to begin with.

"What nightmare?" He asks.

Kayn buries his face in his arms. "Me alone. No d~ Zed. No home." He groans loudly. "No purpose."

The red eye on the blade blinks. "I see."

"U don't~"

"I do." Rhaast knows Kayn will be too drunk to remember any of this anyway. "One day, you're surrounded by your subject. Love by all. Another day, your homeland is nothing but sand. Wasted. Forgotten. What a realistic nightmare."

Kayn looks confused as heck. The Darkin bets he doesn't understand 30% of what he said. But then he smiles and says: "Den we can be 'lone togetar yeah~?"

Gods. He is too far gone. "There is no such thing as 'being alone together'."

"Not with dat 'titude~"

Kayn hugs the scythe. Putting his face as close to the heel as possible. It's a miracle he doesn't hurt himself. His voice after this is too mumbled to be understood. Even with words Rhaast can catch, it makes zero sense. But it's fine. It's fine. As long as the boy keeps talking and his heart still beating. Everything is fine. The Darkin purrs in delight as his vessel finally falls to sleep.

And this time, Rhaast threatens his old gods to let Kayn have a good dream for once.

Chapter Text

Three fucking years.

It took them three years for this moment. Where they finally agree to do something together. It started when Kayn asked to learn what Rhaast would look like if he had a body. The human thought of it as a joke. But his scythe proposed sharing their dreamscapes and he might be able to show it. The boy never thought it was possible but Rhaast said their connection is deep enough now.

So tonight is the first-night Kayn lays down with excitement for what awaits him. But he's also on edge. He normally either gets dreamless sleep or full-on nightmares. What if it doesn't work? What if their connection isn't deep enough for whatever Rhaast is about to do? What if he's being de- No. He shouldn't think of that. They have been through too much to doubt each other now.

He closes his eyes. And when he opens them up again, he's somewhere familiar yet different. Kayn can feel the sand beneath him and the shade from red-leaf trees above him. When he gets up to look around, he sees a silhouette from a distance. A tall man with a big, long pair of horns. The assassin's heart is pounding. He knows instantly who that man is.

Kayn stands up. The man turns his way.

Kayn puts a foot towards him. He does the same.

Kayn walks slowly. The horned one approaches him as well.

Kayn picks up the pace. And at some point, the other one changes to running at him.

When they finally meet, Kayn still can't describe what Rhaast looks like because he embraces him immediately. And his partner lets him. The Darkin is so tall, huge, and warm. Unlike the scythe handle which Kayn can grab in one hand. Rhaast, too, finally realizes how small the human is despite his strength. If he carries him up, he could cover the vessel from the cruel world. He would do it.

They do not greet each other, or speak at all in fact. They let their body and mind do the talk. Physical touch is now their language. Real conversation can come later. What they need right now is to feel the other person under their hands. They don't even notice when the dreamscape changes into nighttime. They are too lost at the moment.

In comfortable silence, the two start to move in sync. Close to how they were in combat. But outside of the battlefield and with Rhaast's body, it begins to look more like a dance instead of a fight. The celebration of their achievement. The milestones of how far their relationship has come. The realization that they finally found someone worthy to heal their damaged hearts. Their beloved soulmates.

This dance in the dream is everything they have hope for, figuratively and literally.

They couldn't ask for more.