Chapter Text
When Ezreal thought of taking some time off for a relaxing trip, he didn’t expect it would result in being chased by a bloodthirsty assassin wielding an equally bloodthirsty — and apparently very much alive — scythe. (Hey, I think it's a Darkin! I studied them.)
Piltover had become dull and tedious. Ezreal had done everything he could to keep himself entertained. From rereading piles of books he already knew by heart to recataloging his most important artifacts — and even hanging out with Seraphine, his best friend in that place.
It was during one of these paper-sorting sessions that a map fell onto the table, landing on top of the open books he was reading in boredom. That’s when the boy had an idea: how bad could it be to go on an expedition somewhere far away?
Okay, maybe pretty bad. Seraphine would definitely give him an awkward smile while trying to explain that it wasn’t a good idea. And his uncle, Lymere, would absolutely lose it when he realized Ezreal had gone on yet another one of his crazy adventures.
But who could blame him? Ezreal was so bored!
That’s when he began analyzing his options on the map, already excited about the prospect of a new adventure. Shurima? Out of the question — maybe he’d already been kicked out of there once or twice. Who knew people didn’t like it when Ezreal took artifacts from ancient temples and messed with dormant forces best left untouched?
Noxus? They wanted his head on a platter. Ezreal was pretty sure there was a decent bounty on him there after he accidentally invaded a restricted site and disrespected a few guards.
Demacia? Even less so. Apparently, that Garen guy hadn’t been too happy when Ezreal flirted with his little sister. Which was a shame — she really was his type. But maybe it was better to keep all his limbs intact and avoid an angry brother.
Ezreal’s eyes then landed on Ionia. He’d never really had the chance to explore the region. How many hidden and forgotten treasures might be scattered across Ionia’s forest temples? How many amazing places waiting to be explored? And who better to do it than a young and fearless explorer like him?
Ezreal was definitely excited by the idea. That very same day, he packed his backpack with all the maps and books he had on Ionia. And before leaving, he left just one note, in case his uncle missed him:
“Out handling some business. Back in a few weeks. Don’t miss me too much!
From: Your favorite (and only) nephew, Ezreal.”
And that brings us to the present.
The blonde boy turned his map over and over, trying to figure out where he was. The Ionian forest around him was dense and damp. Ezreal was already tired and frustrated after hours of hiking along a path that led nowhere.
He had asked a few people at a tavern near the city entrance if they knew the region he was heading to — and of course, he didn’t say he might be stealing artifacts from their people. Instead, Ezreal claimed he was conducting a study on the region’s soil. Even so, the Ionian locals had given him rather unfriendly looks.
Ezreal had left before things got worse and decided to try his luck with his little adventure. He really had tried to follow the map. He did! But everything seemed upside down. He walked and walked, and got nowhere. Maybe he really did have some sort of attention problem… or spatial awareness issue.
He looked at the map, then around him. According to the map, there should have been some ruins documented by researchers at that very spot. But all he saw were trees, one after another, forming a canopy of leaves that barely let the sunlight through.
And to make matters worse, Ezreal had been feeling chills down his spine ever since entering the forest. He constantly glanced behind him, haunted by the strange sensation of being watched — but there was no one there.
Maybe he really just needed some rest.
He sat near a tree and leaned against it, looking for the sandwiches he’d packed for the trip.
A few trees away, hidden in the shadows, a man with a distinctly unfriendly expression was watching him. Kayn Shieda, the Shadow Assassin.
Tall, agile, and predatory in posture, his long black hair was tied in a braid. His eyes were heterochromatic — one black, the other red, glowing even in the darkness. His body was covered in a kind of corruption. A gift from his beloved tenant.
But nothing drew more attention than the scythe. Rhaast. A massive, grotesque weapon with a curved, jagged, living blade. The metal seemed to pulse, as if it were breathing. And at its center, a large red eye watched everything intently.
Rhaast and Kayn had been having a (not-so) quiet argument for several minutes. Kayn had been observing the blonde adventurer for a while, trying to figure out what he was doing alone in an Ionian forest, within Shadow Order territory.
Meanwhile, Rhaast kept grumbling and urging Kayn to just cut the boy to pieces already. Which was odd. Rhaast usually liked to play with his prey, make them run, beg for their lives, and then finish them off. But Kayn could feel Rhaast restless in his mind, pushing behind his eyes — almost as if he wanted to be more present.
– What’s gotten into you? I told you, I want to find out what he is and what he’s doing here. There’s no point wasting energy killing someone who’s not worth it or a threat.
“He gives me chills! I feel it — there’s something about him!”
– And I’m supposed to kill him just because you don’t like his aura? – Kayn rolled his eyes.
“It’s not his aura, you idiot… I’m a millennia-old Darkin, you shouldn’t be questioning my wisdom or instincts!”
– Deal with it.
Ezreal was still sitting, unaware of the conversation happening just meters away. He rummaged through his bag looking for food. He was sure he’d packed some sandwiches before entering the forest… Maybe someone at the tavern took them while he was asking around?
– Who the hell steals tuna sandwiches… – he muttered, zipping the backpack closed and getting ready to start walking again.
He stood and stretched. Checked his gauntlet and was about to grab the map when he felt a chill run down his spine, followed by the unmistakable sensation of someone behind him.
– Where do you think you’re going, boy? – Ezreal froze as he realized there was an extremely sharp blade around his neck. The rough voice was close — Ezreal could feel the warmth of the man’s body behind him.
– H-hey, take it easy, man! We can talk this out… – Ezreal stalled, trying to come up with a plan to get out of this.
In a quick move, Ezreal used his gauntlet to teleport several meters away from the man’s blade. What he didn’t expect was that the man was already prepared for that trick. If Ezreal was fast, Kayn was faster.
In seconds, the man moved like a shadow and was beside Ezreal. Before the blonde could shoot a magic blast, Kayn grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against a tree.
– So you have tricks… – Ezreal finally got a good look at the man who had him by the throat. He was tall, strong (who the hell walks around shirtless in a forest?!) and had some kind of corruption covering half his torso, arm, and face. Black hair in a long braid. But what stood out most — besides the smirk with sharp canines — were the heterochromatic eyes. One black as night, the other red as blood.
Was it wrong to think this guy was hot? Ezreal figured yes — especially since the guy was clearly trying to kill him. But thinking it was wrong and feeling it were two very different things.
– Where are you from and what are you doing here? – the man brought the blade closer to Ezreal’s face, emphasizing the threat. (As if it wasn’t threatening enough already.)
Ezreal got a clearer look at the blade. A massive red scythe. But unlike any weapon he’d ever seen, it had a glowing red eye in the center. And that eye stared at him with the same intensity as the man pinning him down.
Ezreal didn’t know why, but the scythe looked familiar. Had he read about it in one of his books?… Then again, living weapons were relatively common, right?
And the corruption on the body of the man holding him? Corruption… scythe… That guy couldn’t be a Darkin, could he?!
No… Darkin were huge, different. That guy looked way too human. But that weapon… Ezreal had read about it in the records…
He only realized he’d been staring at the blade for too long when the man pressed harder, cutting off his airflow.
– Answer me – the not-at-all-attractive man commanded. When he released Ezreal’s throat, the boy coughed, eyes watering.
– Ezreal! My name’s Ezreal… I’m just an explorer, man!.
– Liar. Did Noxus send you?!
– What?! No! I’m from Piltover! – Ezreal tried to explain, gripping the man’s arm uselessly.
Kayn gave him a mocking smile, clearly not buying it. He released Ezreal and grabbed one of his arms, lifting it to examine the gauntlet.
– Oh yeah? And this, a gift from whom, little thief?
– Uh— I might’ve kinda found it on one of my expeditions… B-but I didn’t steal it! I just found it, no one else was using it!
Kayn growled, shoving him back against the tree.
– Hmph. A little thief who thinks he can come to Ionia and plunder our temples? On Shadow Order territory? – The man laughed — a manic laugh that echoed through the forest and froze Ezreal’s blood.
Suddenly, the man stopped laughing, frowning and growling under his breath. He looked like he had a splitting headache.
– Shut up, Rhaast… – the strange assassin muttered. Ezreal blinked, confused. Was the guy talking to himself?! Great. As if a psychopath wasn’t enough, he was crazy too.
“KILL HIM!” Kayn let go of Ezreal and clutched his head with both hands, the scythe clattering to the ground.
The pressure was immense. Rhaast was writhing inside his mind, pushing everything. The pain was so intense that his ears rang and his bones ached.
– WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! STOP IT, RHAAST! – Kayn shouted, dropping to his knees. He kept his eyes shut and hands to his head.
Rhaast was trying to take control by force. It wasn’t the first time. Especially in the beginning, when they didn’t get along and Rhaast wanted full control of the body — not to be just a prisoner.
But this time was different. Kayn had never felt such fury, such urgency. The pressure was overwhelming, and his consciousness began to fade.
“GIVE ME CONTROL. I’LL KILL HIM! THAT TRAITOR!” The voice coming from Kayn’s body was deep and dangerous. Ezreal, stunned, felt ice crawl into his bones. He froze. All he could do was watch.
Now, Rhaast had full control of the body, and Kayn had been pushed to the back of the mind.
The explorer was trying to gather coherent thoughts when he saw those eyes staring at him from beneath loose strands of hair falling onto the assassin’s forehead, giving him a disheveled look.
Those eyes were red and seemed to glow. Glow with genuine, raw hatred. All of it directed solely at him.
His mind screamed: RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN. And Ezreal had always been good at following his instincts—especially when the assassin let out a feral snarl.
Ezreal was already running for his life.
"RUN, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE—” the laugh that followed from the monster chasing him was one of the most terrifying things Ezreal had ever heard. It seemed to crawl under his skin and light red warning flares in his mind. “RUN, MY LOVE. BECAUSE WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU’LL BE DEAD, NABI’K!”
Ezreal ran through the forest, dodging branches and roots. He tried to understand why that—apparently ancient darkin—wanted so badly to kill him, and why he kept confusing him with someone named Nabi’k.
Ezreal swerved to the left and planned to follow a path, when the assassin practically teleported in front of him. Ezreal had to react fast and take the opposite direction.
– Dude, stop chasing me! Let’s talk! I don’t even know this Nabi’k guy, you’ve got the wrong person! – the explorer tried to argue, even with his breath already uneven from the chase.
Unfortunately for Ezreal, the darkin kept coming. Every second, getting closer. Ezreal pushed himself to run faster until he saw a structure up ahead. It looked like the side of a temple—the entrance could be on the other side. He then poured his last remaining energy into sprinting to find it and lose his pursuer.
But when Ezreal realized, there was no entrance. Everything was overgrown with moss, and no door in sight. His mind scrambled to think of an alternative, but it was already too late.
Rhaast was now walking calmly, dragging the massive scythe along the stone floor, creating a chilling sound. It was Kayn’s body, but Ezreal could tell it wasn’t the same guy from earlier in control anymore. The current one the darkin had an aura that was downright sinister and chilling. Ezreal was nearly backed against the wall, but his eyes darted, switching rapidly between the approaching assassin and possible escape routes (spoiler: there were none).
When Ezreal made a move to shift, the assassin growled in warning. Ezreal froze in place and raised his hands in surrender. If he couldn’t escape this guy physically, maybe he could reason with him. Maybe this was all just a big misunderstanding! This old darkin was clearly confused.
– H-hey, let’s talk! This is all just a big mistake, I’m not this Nabi’k guy…
– I would recognize your aura in any place and time. Don’t try to fool me, traitor. – He kept approaching, and Ezreal kept trying to back away.
Ezreal stumbled, and to keep from falling, braced himself against the wall of the abandoned temple. Who would have guessed that would trigger what came next? The—until then—solid wall opened like magic, and Ezreal fell backward, rather embarrassingly. It’s not every day a solid wall just disappears out of nowhere.
The darkin let out a sound that could only be translated as: “Of course that would happen.” He stepped deeper into the temple, now standing in front of Ezreal, who was still on the ground.
– Don’t you recognize this place, Nabi’k? – The mocking question echoed through the temple entrance.
Ezreal held back from saying, "No, duh. I already told you I’m not that guy" but decided to keep his tongue intact for as long as possible.
– I felt it was you. I can feel your aura. What better proof than that than bringing you to the temple that only you could open?
Ezreal was stunned. That guy had tricked him! That moment when he thought he had lost the darkin—when the darkin cut him off—that wasn’t random. The darkin had led him exactly where he wanted Ezreal to go.
This lit another horrifying thought in Ezreal’s mind: that guy could’ve killed him already, but didn’t—just to bring him here? HE RAN FOR NOTHING, LIKE PREY THE PREDATOR PLAYS WITH BEFORE DEVOURING?!
– You thought you could get rid of me, didn’t you? That in another life, you’d be free from me. – The laugh that followed sent chills down every inch of Ezreal’s skin.
The darkin then crouched over the explorer and grabbed his face tightly.
– Know this: you’ll never be rid of me. We made a promise, remember? Your heart will always belong to me, Nabi’k.
A burst of magic lit up the entire temple entrance before hurling the darkin several meters away from Ezreal. The blond’s eyes widened, shocked by his own reaction—but there wasn’t much time to feel proud.
He teleported a few meters deeper into the temple and started running again, trying to gain ground before the darkin inevitably resumed the chase.
Ezreal found himself in a room that seemed to be the temple’s center. What drew the most attention was undoubtedly the stone altar in the middle of the chamber and the stone statues at the edges.
Ezreal was already running toward the center, looking for some way to escape, when he saw the darkin storm into the room, filled with rage—but that rage seemed to waver for a second, giving way to… concern?
– DON’T STEP ON THAT-
A darkin who wanted him dead not wanting him to step on a stone altar?
Perfect. That meant exactly what he should do.
But Ezreal wasn’t ready for what happened next. The moment he stepped onto the altar, a blinding light filled the entire chamber.
A magic that seemed to awaken from within him, then triggered a wave that made the whole temple tremble.