Fractured Identity | Arcane | Jinx x Oc

Prologue

𝚃𝚆: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑

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A family from a distant land, far from Piltover, was known for their dark magic. It made people envious to see how someone could hold such immense power, but it was not just a simple gift passed down through her family. It was a curse that threatened to consume the wielder's whole being. The origins of the powers were traced back to a desperate man who made a Faustian deal with a mysterious being known only as the Benefactor. The deal was struck in a moment of desperation, as a generational illness plagued the family, claiming the lives of its members when they reached the age of twenty.

In exchange for the family's continued survival, the Benefactor lifted each member's illness and gave one member of the family his dark magic, one that they often wielded to protect themselves and to help their once-poor family become an influential one. However, the true nature of the bargain soon became clear. The Benefactor did not simply bestow his powers upon the family. He embedded himself into the one who inherited the magic. The Benefactor's essence sought to take control of its host, to manipulate and corrupt them for its twisted pleasure and benefit.

The effect he left on the family members caused them to end their own lives to escape his persuasive whispers, but their deaths only prompted him to move to the next living relative or offspring. In the end, only one family member survived, and with backlash and rumors she faced for her family's demise, she fled her land in the pursuit of ending the Benefactor's existence and finding her meaning in life.

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The woman sprinted through the winding streets and narrowed alleyways of the Undercity, her feet pounding against the wet cobblestones as she desperately sought refuge from the relentless rain. She clutched a thick blanket around her torso, shielding her sleeping baby from the downpour. The little girl's tiny form was slumped against her back, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around her.

The woman's eyes darted frantically over her shoulder, her gaze flicking between the crowded market stalls and crumbling buildings as if she expected pursuers to emerge from the shadows at any moment. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her face was set in a determined grimace. She dodged and weaved through the throngs of people, her slender yet athletic figure allowing her to navigate the crowded streets with ease.

Despite her haste, she couldn't avoid colliding with a few pedestrians, who cursed and stumbled out of her way as she rushed past. But she didn't apologize or slow down, her focus fixed on reaching The Last Drop, a seedy tavern on the outskirts of the Undercity.

As she ran, the woman's features became more pronounced. Her almond skin glistened with rainwater, and her short, curly hair was plastered to her scalp. Her purple doe eyes, normally bright and expressive, were now sunken and haunted, with dark circles underneath.

As she burst through the doors of The Last Drop, the warm glow of the tavern's lanterns enveloped her, and the sounds of raucous laughter and clinking glasses provided a stark contrast to the desperation that had fueled her frantic dash through the Undercity. The woman's eyes scanned the room, her gaze locking onto a figure in the corner, his piercing gaze fixed on her. Vander. She had found him.

"Cassandra?"