The Ones who were Ruined

Ezreal

Ezreal shifts away from the Mist snaking around Piltover. He'd just returned with a rare artefact, one he dropped in his rush to get away from the invading fog.
"What is this? I've never seen anything like it."
A tendril of Mist snakes across the ground, towards his foot. He stomps on it and it disappears. Then, from the Mist, emerges a female figure, one Ezreal loved so much to see in Demacia. But Lux looks different. Her hair is white and flows down her back in waves. Her fringe is sectioned off by a crown on her brow. Her usual Demacian clothing is replaced by a long, green and black dress, the hem lightly touching the floor. Broken chains hang off her body, her shoulders and her arms. They wrap around her wrists.
"Petricite," Ezreal mutters under his breath.
"Jarro Lightfeather, or should I call you Ezreal here?"
"H-how do you know... Lux, what is this?"
Lux takes a step forward. "I've always admired you, Ezreal. I heard about your deeds in Demacia and learned all about you."
Ezreal takes a step towards Lux.
"All your adventures, everything that you've done. Ezreal, I've always wanted to meet you outside of Demacia. Meet the real you, not Jarro Lightfeather." She reaches her hand towards him and he doesn't hesitate in taking it. They entwine their fingers and Ezreal bows his head. Lux pulls him into her arms. The sound of the chains on her arms fill his ears as her hands run along his back.
"It was the true king who allowed us to be together like this, Ezreal. Serve him with me and we can be together forever."
Ezreal lifts his head and kisses Lux. Lux removes her crown and puts it on Ezreals head, completing his transformation as one of Viegos own.