Forge of worlds - League of legends fanfic

Chapter 1 - The MarrowMark

Shurima,

often taken as a region with no riches or sight to consider worthy to be seen. A land that was just recently taken back into the grasp of the fallen emperor, Azir. Since he was a child he had heard millions of stories of his parents, from the zen gardens of Ionia, the divine lands of Mount Targon, the empire of Demacia, ravenous camps of Noxus. Anything, anywhere, far outside the borders of Piltover, were adventures waiting for his calling, buildings more ancient than humanity itself, a time where people wondered what could have roamed the very earth of Runeterra. Some believed it were Vastayashai'rei, a race of creatures that were connected with nature, spirits, souls and the stars. Others say that the lands were shaped in the flames of fire, roared by cosmic dragons.

Stories that did not interest Ezreal in any way, he did not much care for where things came from, he did not even ask where he came from. It were details left for others to figure out, that locked themselves up in their room and think of the birth of the universe. No, the only thing the adventurer was out to find and explore were remnants of ancient treasures that the people before him had left on the lands. While most children would stare at their parents, dreaming off into lullabies and fairy tales they got fed with before bedtime, he watched with glistening eyes as his parents would tell him various stories and objects they had found. When they spoke of their adventure, everything they had done in the time period before, while and after, it was as if he could feel their adrenaline and wanted a taste of that adventure himself. He read their journals, remembered what was most important to memorize and note down for himself what others could learn from it.

'Log diary, number one,' The voice of a small child would echo through the main hall of his parents' mansion, standing on top of the staircase with a pillow and rope tied around his waist he looked down from the height. Young Ezreal gulped at the sight from the distance there was between him and the ground, staring at the toes of his socks he felt fear grasping onto his stomach. His doubts were short-lived when he remembered himself that there was no place for hesitation, anything could get him killed! 'I'm about to slide down from the stairs, cursed mummies are following me and I don't have much time left. If I don't move now, I will miss mom's dinner.' The child roared his battle cry and raced down the stairs, every edge that could have hurt him terribly was softened by the pillows he used as his cover. His teeth kept clacking onto another, the height that no longer seemed as scary as it used to. As if he was caught in a memory that belonged to his parents, the staircase and mansion were no longer his environment. He imagined a ruin located in Shurima, racing down the tunnels that were filled with cobwebs, dust and insects of all sorts and heights. But the adventurer did not feel fear in their presence, instead he yelled excitedly, raised his hands in the air as if he was caught in an attraction, until he had reached the end of the stairs and tumbled over the ground. The explorer broke out in laughter, covering his stomach with both hands as he said aloud, as if he were reading his own journals. 'Escape successful, the mummies were too scared to roll down. Probably because they did not have the bravery as I do,' The child rolled on his stomach, crawling over the floor as he still lived within the memory of his parents. 'The tunnel is getting smaller, from here on out I will have to crawl if I don't want to hit my head. If I keep following this road I sure will reach the tombs. Oh no! I saw a spider, but no worries, I killed it before it could lay eggs. You're welcome by the way, now you won't be bothered by baby spiders.' He crawled closer, until even the very details of the door frame out to the kitchen was visible. 'I'm so close to enter the tomb of Ne'Zuk, I will be the first to-' His sentence was cut off when the clink was pushed down and the door swung open, blowing the chilly air of the evening into his face, it brushed his blond curls out of his eyes. Staring into clean, scrubbed leather shoes, he knew that he was in trouble. 'Ne'Zuk is awake, I repeat, Ne'Zu-'
'Cut that nonsense, Ezreal.' A man, thrice his size groaned seemingly annoyed by his childish act, leaning over the boy that cast a shadow over him. 'Your parents are about to serve dinner and you're here gathering dust.'
The young boy set himself off from the ground to look grumpy towards his uncle, one he was  never really fond of. The man was an archaeologist, collecting all the valuables and representing them in his museum. Lot of his parent's findings were to be found back along with their journals, speaking the same stories, but he were lucky enough to hear them first and in it's full glory. 'Am not, I'm exploring through the catacombs of Ne'Zuk.'
His uncle brushed the idea off and walked inside speaking in a mocking tone. 'Keep dreaming, kid. The outside world is nothing for a spoiled brat like you.'
Ezreal locked his jaws, one day he would prove to his uncle he was more than just a little kid with dreams. One day he would go out and find something that would be more valuable than any of the artifacts he had laying around. One day he would be old enough to travel out into the world like his parents had and no one would stop him.