Well, here it is. The first chapter in a, hopefully, long piece. It's about Kassadin, and it's worth noting that I'm pretending that the whole league is already in place before the story begins, i.e. people like Varus will already be in the League, although Kassadin joined much earlier. Hopefully yall can get around that. Also, it's a working title, not entirely sure where the story is going, so it'll probably be changed after I figure out more about what this story is going to be doing. This first chapter is also a little short, I think anyway, and the future ones will probably be longer, but the length of the entire story should be what people think of anyway, so whatever.
Quick shout out to Paladin of Light, as someone who said that action would be a good part of my next story in my last one, Shyvana and the Dragon's pot of gold.
FF link right here.
9-12-12: Chapter 2 added, took longer than expected, but here it is. More tomorrow!
9-15-12: Chapter 3 added. Rewrote this one almost twice, so that's why it took so long. Enjoy. Might be all weekend before I can get chapter 4 up.
9-17-12: Chapter 4 added. yikes, hope yall think it's as awesome as I do.
Anyway, without further ado,
9-20-12: FF url added here. Chapter 5 will be up on it soon and not present here because it's going to have a fair amount of graphic violence, which I'm uncomfortable adding right onto the forums.
Kassadin sighed, another book in the grand library of Demacia that had looked promising, delivered nothing. Just another memoir of a madman. He wondered if there would ever be any concrete evidence to support the existance of the lost city, Icathia.
Kassadin got up from his chair and pushed it back into place at the desk. He was on the upper balcony of the grand library in Demacia. There were tunnels that led off into more literary storage on either side of him. Behind Kass, there were two staircases on either side of the balcony that led down into an interlocked landing. The balcony itself only stretched across one side of the rectangular chamber. Beneath the balcony was the door to the forbidden texts, a place that Kass wished he could gain access to more than anything.
The only way for that to happen was for him to be a part of the Demacian military, and only citizens of Demacia could be part of the military. Although Piltover had been a great place to grow up, Kass found himself wishing, once again, that his birthplace had been elsewhere.
Kass sighed again, and began to walk away, discarding the memoir of the self proclaimed "Paladin of Light" into the return pile on his way. He walked down the staircase and realized just how many books there were in this massive library. The entire main chamber was filled with rows of massive bookcases and ladders, (to reach the top of the bookcases) and each bookcase was filled with books.
There must have been something like 100,000 books in the entire library. Kass had read them all. Searching for the slightest mention of Icathia in the texts had been the way that Kassadin spent the last roughly 9 months. There had been no progress in his search.
Kassadin's mother had forbidden him to continue the search for hidden knowledge when he was 16, fearing that he would become consumed by the insane idea that Icathia even existed. When Kassadin's mother died 8 years later, he decided to take up the search once again, abandoning the meager life that he had built as a courier. The next two years had brought him to the most expansive libraries in Valoran, but, with the completion of the Demacian library, there had been not one single allusion to the hidden city.
"Sometimes, you have to do things the hard way," Kass repeated to himself under his breath while he walked toward the entrance to the library.
Kass had begun repeating rules of advice to himself after his twentieth birthday. His encounter with secret knowledge was inevitable and would require mental focus. Surprisingly, life as a courier brought him next to many influential figures. He had learned much in the way of wisdom during his eight year stint.
Kassadin remembered one time when a gang learned of his whereabouts during a trip to a certain university, carrying certain valuable materials. Although he had been beaten badly, he held onto the package until the sheriff had arrived, teaching Kassadin the value of not giving into fear, and sticking through.
Kass exited the library, giving a quick nod to the librarian on the way out. She was nice looking, and almost certainly into him, but Kass was not interested in romance. He was bound to find out why he had been called to search for Icathia eventually.
The bright sun on his face reminded Kass of when he had dreamed up the name of Icathia, surprising his mother greatly when he had asked her what the name referred to. Kass had been only ten years old, when he dreamed of a bright light, blocking all vision of the surrounding area, and the bright light had told him to search for the lost city of Icathia and to forever try to understand the world around him.
Kass had done well understanding the world around him, being a bright young student of the education system of Piltover had provided him with the resources to know all there was to know about everything from techmaturgy, to necromancy.
Life hadn't been easy when kids learned about his dream of Icathia. They had called him psycho, freak, and other cruel names that Kassadin did not wish to recall. Instead of deterring him, however, all their punishment served to do was to steel his resolve, eliminating all doubts that this was his destined path.
He had been forced to learn a martial art to deter the daily lunchtime attacks that plagued his childhood. Knowing that guns were too hard to sneak into school, Kassadin had learned the ancient ways of the assassins and their katars. Katars were generic blades that were fastened to the wrist, and could be used on both wrists, or just one. Kass had learned how to sneak in a small knife at first, then designed a pulley system that would push the blade out into the required area from farther up the sleeve. Kass was left handed, so put the contraption into his right sleeve, so as to hide it during the mundane tasks of the day.
Soon, Kass got used to the action of quickly pulling the blade out of his sleeve, and using only his right hand to engage in martial arts. In his mind, Kassadin divided the actions of attack and defense to his right hand, while all normal activities were placed upon his left hand.
There was no reason that he couldn't use his left hand when required in a violent situation, but he would be able to quickly react with his right hand whenever the situation required, as it was always ready.
Kass was shocked out of his reverie while walking through the alleys of Demacia back to his apartment, which he would usually only go to when it was late out and the library had closed, when he heard the scream.
Kassadin bursted into action, cloak billowing behind him as he sprinted through the narrow corridors between the buildings toward the scream's origin. A sharp right turn, a tricky left turn over a trash bin, and Kass found why the scream had been uttered.
A young girl, no more than 16, was being thrown against the wall by a group of four guys, who were more than likely around 19 years old. These guys, Kassadin noted, looked like really bad news. They were in the process of tearing through the girl's clothes, though for riches or for some other reason, Kassadin knew not.
Neither did he care.
Bumping his right elbow against his side to activate the pulley system and whip out his now fully two foot long, half a foot, at the base, wide katar, which clicked into place, the collapsing mechanism worked perfectly in reverse. Kassadin sprinted towards the four men, uttering not a sound.
Upon reaching them, they had not even noticed his approach, he swung his arm from below and impaled the closest man's head on the katar from below the chin. A spatter of blood sprayed across the remaining five people's faces, alerting the first victim's friends that something was amiss.
Kass stopped not to allow them to realize what had happend, whipping his katar out of the first man's head and deftly cutting another's throat before he could react. The only sound the man said in protest, as blood began to pour down the man's chest, was gurgling.
There were only two left, but both pulled long swords from their scabbards. For the feintest of moments, Kassadin and the remaining two men stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do. Kassadin's face contorted in concentration as he leaped into the air, planted both feet on either side of the narrow alley, and pushed himself foreward and into the dirt.
He aimed the katar for the right man's knee, hoping the element of surprise this strange move would elicit would be enough for them to not simply sweep their swords down. He was right, Kass sled along the now slick cobblestones and stabbed the katar straight through the right man's kneecap, making the man yell out in pain, as he had probably never felt such a would. Kass also grabbed the left man's knee on the way past, pulling his feet out from under him.
Kass then yanked his katar to the left, attempting to extract the weapon from the right man's knee. Kassadin threw himself into the effort as much as he could, but the katar stayed put.
Kass gulped as he realized that his only line of defense was now both useless and strapping his right hand to an intruder's leg. Thinking fast, Kass twisted himself around, placing his right arm over his body, as he looked up and began to kick the injured man's face as hard as possible, a quick way to kill a man without a weapon was to sever the spinal cord from trauma caused to the front of the head.
The man yelled out again and again until Kass finally heard a sickening snap as the deed was finished. The man fell limp, twisting Kassadin's right wrist as it contorted the angle of the katar. It hurt, but Kass remembered that pain was always either temporary or unavoidable.
Unfortunately, the last man had clambered to his feet during this time and Kass looked back to him just in time to see the long metal sword enter his abdomen. It was strangely cold, like pain was simply not applicable to lethal wounds. Time slowed down around Kass as he followed the trail of his blood flow into the street and mix with the three other men's.
His blood was darker than the other colors, but seemed to be swept away by some blinding light. He figured that it would be the entity from his dream entering his consciousness to thank him for his attempt to find the lost city, Icathia, but before it could say anything, the whole world went dark, leaving Kassadin's possible closure, billowing in the wind.