League of Legends Short Stories

What Your Heart Desires

Have you ever felt so alone?

So... helpless

You try screaming for help and no one hears you?

For days you walk around trying to find someone... anyone.

Yet no one's there

It's terrifying

And lonely

But at the same time

Loneliness

Is soothing

That it's dangerous

But... you can never deny

What your heart really yearns for

Freedom. That is what the fallen god or their new honorific "Darkin", yearns. Freedom from its curse. To be finally at peace. But how? How does he do that exactly? How do you find freedom in such restricting form. A form where all five senses have been removed? Denied of everything, even the ability to die. Nothing there but the darkness of your prison of what used to be something so noble and righteous. Worse for it to happen by the people you fought to protect so desperately without hesitation. Fighting years of war against the void to protect and what do they get in return?

Betrayal.

For millennia, the desire to end your suffering can only lead to madness, to insanity. Then when that desire comes close to be fulfilled even by the slightest touch. You will never let it go of it. And once that opportunity came, the darkin has begun his journey to fulfill his goal. Vengeance.

Host after host, a trail of corpses and blood follow in the wake of his footsteps. All that dared challenged him, mortal or ascended, he accepted. All that stood against him fell by the very weapon he has become.

Embracing the darkness, striving to kill all life, to revel and bask in the malevolent annihilation he brings and calls a gift to mortals and gods alike. Many have feared him, has tried to suppress him, to end him. Some may succeed but each time, he comes back to bring more death and destruction. War after war. Host after host. He will not stop. He is a reckoning. He is doom.

He.. is the world-ender.

So why?

Why does he find himself feeling some semblance of sympathy to a mere mortal child crying for help? A child lost and all alone. Screaming out for who knows how long, desperate for help. Longing for someone, anyone to help. With one effortless strike and it will all be silenced, it will be even a form of mercy. A gift similarly to what he wants, freedom from all the torment.

Yet he chose not to

At least, not yet.

He carefully approached the crying child. Upon approach, he noticed that it was a little girl. How small she was. Almost a speck of dust compared to his current size. He found himself altering himself to a smaller form - a third of the height of a full grown tree. Getting a closer look, he noticed her clothes filthy and ragged, her frail body tattered with dirt, bruises and cuts, obvious signs that she had been out here for some time. His wings carried him to prevent from startling the child from his massive footsteps. Although that wouldn't serve him any good, his appearance itself will be enough to instill fear into the little girl. Or that's what he thought.