Chapter Text
“Your tea will be ready in just a moment, Miss Buvelle. In the meantime, why don’t you take a seat upstairs?”
Sona silently thanked the smartly dressed waiter with a soft smile, moving to climb the stairs as he’d suggested. Her hands glided across the smooth bannister, recognising the familiar feeling of polished wood she'd experienced dozens of times since the Institute of War’s sudden disbandment. The sun’s warmth greeted Sona as she reached the upper floor of the cafe, a gentle breeze guiding her to her usual seat at a small round table that overlooked the gleaming white landscape below. The view of the bustling, colourful markets by the coast, all surrounded by a cascade of clear blue waves, was a big part of why she came here so often.
But when she released a sigh upon reaching her seat, it was out of boredom rather than contentment. Of course Sona was glad that the international bloodbaths the Institute loved had finally come to an end. She'd hated every minute of the violence inside the Rift’s walls, even if there was no way for any of them to truly be hurt during their matches.
They had at least given her life some structure and variety though.
For the last few months, her life had consisted of playing her etwahl in concerts for people she didn’t know, admiring the same sights around the Rocky Highlands of Demacia to the point that they almost bored her, and hearing about her friends’ exciting new adventures that they were out experiencing while she was cooped up at home like an old widow. Sona had sat at this same spot many times recently, twirling a strand of sky blue hair between two fingers and imagining herself in their stead in the stories they told her. Sometimes she would be travelling all over Runeterra on government business like Garen, others taking on famous opponents in exciting duels like Fiora. Not that either of those things were exactly what she was yearning for, but it was nice to think about if only to quell her boredom for a little while.
“Sorry I’m late!” A cheerful voice suddenly called out to her.
Sona woke from her daydreams and looked up to find Ahri scurrying towards her with three shopping bags at her wrists that were filled to the brim with clothes. Her nine-tailed friend was as energetic as ever.
“You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had! I woke up late today since I was out late last night, so I sped out of my hotel room to try and find a taxi, but then I booked it for the wrong place so I had to sprint over and get a train all the way back, and ended up being late for that too because I bumped into a few admirers at the station and just had to sign a few autographs. I mean you know me, I’d never let down my fans.” Ahri spoke a mile a minute, accompanied by expressive hand gestures that would sling her bags around wildly as she made them. Sona did her best to follow along with the twisting and turning of both the story and Ahri’s bag-ridden arms.
“That does sound exhausting,” Sona admitted, though the voice was not exactly her own. In lieu of awkwardly bringing her etwahl everywhere like she had done until recently, Sona had been diligently practising turning her magic into a telepathic sound of sorts that would allow her to communicate with others, though since she didn’t move her mouth to match her ‘voice’, it could look a little jarring to those who weren't used to seeing it. It was difficult and mentally taxing to use for a long time, but certainly better than the alternative.
Wordlessly, Sona gave a nod of thanks to the same kind waiter from earlier, who gently placed down the steaming cup of tea in front of her.
“I am surprised though. I thought without the rift matches you would be less busy, not moreso,” Sona said.
“Yes, well, now I can actually start really living my life instead of doing it half-assedly on the side. I’ve got my music career to sort out, a fashion line to lead which needs a new collection each season, not to mention I got asked to help out with some modelling for an up and coming designer over in Piltover.” Ahri knocked down fingers on her heavily manicured hands as she listed off various exploits, sounding as though she was advertising herself at a job interview. “But of course, none of that matters when making time for my friends.”
Ahri shared a cheeky grin with Sona before taking a careful sip of piping hot tea. Her sleek features instantly relaxed as the fox closed her eyes to relish its taste and warmth.
“Ah, I’ve missed this.” Ahri let out a deep breath, feeling fully content. “I feel like I could sit here all day, enjoy the weather with a hot drink and melting into this chair.”
“Yes, it’s nice enough I suppose…” Sona mumbled quietly.
“You don’t like it here?” Ahri asked, an eyebrow arched in disbelief.
Sona shook her head. “Of course it is nice to sit back and relax once in a while. But when it’s the only thing I’ve been doing recently, even a wonderful feeling like this can begin to lose its charm.”
Sona sighed, her gaze returning to the gentle waves on the beach far below. For some reason she felt a small sense of shame begin to crawl into her chest, sitting across from Ahri who had been able to create such an exciting life for herself while Sona had been perfectly content to watch time pass her by.
“Well, taking things easy is fine too, I suppose,” Ahri yawned, stretching her arms as far back as they would go and leaning back in her seat.
“Everyone else seems to have found their calling and already knows what they want to do, so I don’t want to hold them back,” Sona continued. “But I'd be lying if I said things didn’t get a little dull sometimes. Or lonely, even.“
Sona glanced back at Ahri, suddenly wondering if she had sounded a bit too sorry for herself. If she thought so, Ahri certainly didn’t show it, instead nodding to Sona in understanding.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Ahri said. “I had the same feelings not too long ago when I’d just finished squeezing out an album to a tight deadline, and then when I had nothing else scheduled for the near future I suddenly got hit with just how mundane everyday life is.” She paused for a brief moment before an idea flashed in her mind.
“You know what picked me up when I was feeling down? I decided to put everything behind me for the time being and go on a music tour around the world!” Ahri said, clasping her hands together as Sona’s eyes widen at the idea. “I think the same might work for you as well. Your performances are definitely popular enough considering the amount of people that come all the way here just to hear you play, and I think it’d be just what you need right now. All the different cultures, foods, and sights you get to see when travelling are amazing, and the men aren’t half bad either depending on where you go.”
Ahri smirked playfully at the last point. She offered a teasing wink to Sona, who predictably lit up a deep shade of red at the comment.
“That does sound exciting!” Sona agreed. “But to propose something so big so suddenly is just…” Sona trailed off, unsure of what she wanted to say. Her frequent chats with the other league champions after their matches on the rift had always interested her. Usually they would tell her old stories from their hometowns, or the ways in which they unwind after battle. And of course Sona had so much love for her music.
But performing in front of large and foreign crowds was never her strong suit. And Sona had never even thought of leaving Demacia after she’d settled here with her mother some time ago. Travelling the whole of Runeterra at once would be an impossibly huge step up from that.
“I know it’s a big shift from what you’re comfortable with, but I didn’t think I was ready either. You just have to kind of jump in and trust you’ll make it, you know?” Ahri cooed, gently reaching over the table and kneading reassuring circles over Sona’s hands with either thumb. “Besides, I’ve done it all before so I could help you out with planning everything out, like scheduling venues and all of that. Don’t feel like you have to do the whole thing alone.”
Sona stared intently at the stainless white table cloth in front of them. With a newfound sense of bravery, or perhaps just impulsiveness, she returned the supportive touch with an affirming squeeze.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer, then,” Sona said, feeling a little more confident in her spontaneous decision after seeing Ahri’s beaming face. “But I’ll make sure to ask my friends what they think about it first, just in case.” Sona added hastily.
“Sure. Why don’t we grab them right now?”
“Now?” Sona stammered, a little stunned.
“Why not?” Ahri was already getting up from her seat, leaving behind a very generous tip as she moved round the table to gently eject Sona from her chair as well. “We may as well get the details sorted while I’m still around. I’m a busy woman, you know.”
***
“Absolutely not!” Garen’s thunderous shout echoed throughout the room.
Sona, Ahri and the three other champions still residing in Demacia had gathered inside Garen’s not-so-humble abode. The house - although it could be argued that it was more of a mansion - was needlessly large for a single person; But then again, the Institute of War had paid off all the champions so handsomely for their time spent pitted against each other in their Rift matches that they could all afford a little luxury in their lives. Lavished with soft velvet carpet, some very expensive looking furniture and decadent marble pillars to hold the place upright, it was fit for a king.
Ahri stood on one side, hands splayed across a large desk and looking well prepared for the argument that was about to happen. Meanwhile on the other side Jarvan and Quinn sat together, with Garen leading the charge of their ‘team’ and pacing back and forth in very melodramatic fashion. Sona, apparently, would be sitting on the sidelines in the conversation to decide her own future. She had opted for a comfortable chair in the middle of the two parties, and could only calm her nerves by stroking a few trembling fingers over the fabric of her summer dress.
“It is far too dangerous. The other regions of Runeterra aren’t nearly as safe and secure as Demacia is," Garen said, his pacing and tone mirroring that of a well prepared diplomat. "If you end up in the wrong place then there’d be no one there to look out for you. There are thieves, murderers and a lot of much, much worse things about.”
Ahri rolled her eyes. “You are such a drama queen. Not everywhere outside your little bubble here in the clouds is that bad. I’ve met lots of perfectly normal people on my travels, as I’m sure you have as well as Demacia’s international ambassador.” Ahri then flicked a loose strand of hair to the side as she graced Garen with a look of great disdain. “Honestly, I’ve no idea where you’ve developed this sense of paranoia from.”
“It is less paranoia and more a lack of naivety,” Garen answered sternly. “Just because nothing has happened to us doesn’t mean that it couldn’t in the future. Quinn thinks so too, isn’t that right?”
“Hm? Oh, I dunno,” Quinn deadpanned, not even bothering to lift her eyes from the book she was reading. Valor, who was currently perched on her shoulder, offered a slight squawk as a reply instead while she readjusted her feathers.
“I’m inclined to agree with Garen on this one,” Jarvan interjected, though he at least had the decency to shoot a sympathetic look Sona's way. “I don’t think Sona is quite as well equipped to defend herself as we are, either, so the potential danger she faces is much greater. I mean this with no disrespect, but she isn’t the most independent person either. Perhaps a little sheltered even.”
“And who do you think is doing the sheltering here?” Ahri accused as she flung her arms up in disbelief, levelling a glare back at Jarvan. “It’s because you all like to fuss over her like some strange, overprotective family. Sona’s a grown woman. She can do what she wants. You should be thankful that she even bothered to come here today and ask you about it.”
“She most certainly won’t-” Garen began, before he was cut off by a loud and purposeful cough from Jarvan.
“We are all well aware that it is Sona’s choice to make at the end of the day, aren’t we?” Jarvan clarified.
Garen looked as though he might protest at first, but one glance as the pointed look Jarvan was giving him made Garen think better of it.
“Of course,” Garen muttered, finally taking a seat.
“Obviously,” Ahri said. She elected to sink into the space next to Sona on the leather chair and run a comforting hand over Sona’s shoulder, who’d been watching the whole thing unfold.
Jarvan rubbed the crease of his brow, trying to ease away some of the stress that had been building there. They would get nowhere by letting Garen and Ahri have at each other all day. It was a miracle they’d lasted this long in the same room together.
“When we are telling you we don’t think something is a good idea, it is not because we want to be controlling, or we think that you can’t look after yourself,” Jarvan began slowly, ignoring the very immature faces Ahri was making behind Sona’s back. “All we want is for you to be safe. Perhaps it would help us to know what exactly spurred this idea into motion in the first place?”
Sona lightly chewed on the nail of her thumb before she answered, doing her best to not be so conscious of the four pairs of eyes staring directly at her.
“I’ve spent so much time hearing about what everyone else is getting up to now we have our lives back, and felt I should be doing something more, I guess,” Sona said softly, twiddling her thumbs. “There are old friends from the League that I’d like to see, places I would like to visit, that sort of thing. I’d just like to find something to inspire me like you all have.”
Jarvan nodded. “Mmm, I understand. I know that you wouldn’t be here if this weren’t something you really wanted to do. But at the same time, I want to do my duty as a close friend and ensure your safety. That is our priority. It is a difficult situation to be in.”
“Why not have someone accompany her?” Quinn suggested as she closed her book with a sharp snapping noise, finally deeming the conversation interesting enough to contribute. “I’m sure there is no shortage of soldiers we could find who would be more than happy to tag along. Not like there’s really much danger for any of them to be fighting as things are, anyhow.”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea,” Jarvan murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“We should really ask someone more capable than just any old foot soldier,” Garen advised. He then quickly realised what he had just said as he backpedalled, “Not that I am trying to insult our military, of course. But this is such an important job. I feel we need someone stronger, and more trustworthy. Unfortunately, Jarvan and I are both very busy with government duties, so we can’t go with you.”
“I have too much going on with my own career, sorry Sona,” Ahri said as she gave her a light hug of apology.
“I have nothing I need to attend to at the moment, but I really don’t want to do it, so I won’t,” Quinn said.
She looked up to the three glares she was on the receiving end of, as well as Sona’s downtrodden expression.
“No offence, dear,” She added.
“None taken,” Sona said.
She smiled back at Quinn briefly, but it quickly sunk into a frown as Sona wondered whether she would really be going anywhere after all. Maybe it had been too ambitious to think that she'd be fine on such a big journey alone. It would be safer and easier to just carry on living how she had been already, unsatisfying as it was. Sona supposed it could be a lot worse, but still she couldn’t help but feel a little crushed as all the ideas and daydreams of how her venture might turn out slowly crumbled away.
“Oh, I've got it! We could put a request forward to the Institute!” Ahri chirped as she lit up suddenly, breaking the cloud of silence that had formed around them all. “The champions were the best and brightest representatives from their respective regions, so they should be pretty trustworthy, and their strength has already been proven by their time in the League, right?”
There was a brief period of quiet as the suggestion was considered.
“I have no objections,” Jarvan agreed.
“Me neither,” Garen conceded. He then noticed that Quinn seemed to find something amusing. “You don’t agree, Quinn?”
Quinn laughed at him. “Not at all, it's a good idea. I only wonder which of the champions we knew would really have nothing better to do?”
***
The sound of heavy, metallic footfalls echoed down the vacant hallways of the Ruined King’s castle. Mordekaiser marched towards the inner chambers with purposeful strides, barely sparing a glance for the odd creature roaming the corridors. The few he did pass would without fail drop whatever they were doing to offer the Lord of the Shadow Isles a rigid salute, remaining completely still until he was out of sight. Mordekaiser paid them no mind though. He had far more important things to be thinking about.
A few months had passed since he’d been summoned by the king personally. After the Institute of War’s collapse, his national duties as Lord of the Shadow Isles had shrunk quite drastically. He’d spent his life endlessly honing his fighting ability sparring with other warriors, commanding armies to defend the Shadow Isles from ‘help’ the other regions would send over, intending to purge the horrors that lay deep in the island’s darkest crevices that probably included himself, and representing the region as a Champion in the League of Legends matches. Now without all of that, it had suddenly become a very empty existence.
Mordekaiser had high hopes that would change today.
Exhaling a deep breath, Mordekaiser effortlessly pushed aside the massive double doors that would have given three normal men a lot of trouble, the ageing wood almost splintering under his sheer strength.
Everything was exactly how he had remembered it. Darkened cobblestone lined the walls and floors, obscured by the thin veils of black mist that seeped through the crevices of the ancient building. Stone pillars that were lined with cracks from the stress of the weight they were carrying somehow held the whole castle together, towering over whoever was important enough to enter the king’s throne room.
Mordekaiser’s burning green eyes moved to focus on the king himself. Viego sat hunched over his throne like he was ashamed to occupy it, his mouth curved into a smile while the rest of his features appeared sullen. The black mist curled around his feet and hands like it was caressing an old friend, the contrast between its black tendrils and his pale skin and hair making him appear almost blindingly white.
“Mordekaiser, it is good to see you. I trust you have been keeping well?” Viego asked, his voice lacking the warmth of his words.
“My liege,” Mordekaiser said, taking a knee to offer a bow of respect as he shifted the weight of his immense bulk to one side.
“I’ve told you many times to do away with such formalities, friend.” Viego shook his head, though he didn’t look displeased by the act of respect. It was almost a tradition between the two of them to bicker about it by now.
“Where are the others?” Mordekaiser’s deep voice rumbled as he stood up. His eyes met Viego’s for a second, watching intently when the king averted his gaze.
“They are not coming,” Viego replied. “What I’ve come to ask of you today is something that concerns you alone.”
“I see,” Mordekaiser said. He didn’t bother to ask his leader why. “In that case, how may I be of service to you?”
Mordekaiser waited patiently for Viego to speak. Vieog himself was squaring off his jaw, like he was mustering up to something.
“You have without a doubt been my most faithful companion,” Viego began, a look of fondness glazing over his eyes. “From being the Shadow Isles’ champion fighter, a leader to countless denizens of our land in and out of battle, and a knowledgeable personal advisor, you are of infinite value to me. An irreplaceable colleague and even more irreplaceable friend, if you will.”
Viego took in the unwavering gaze looking back at him. As always, it was impossible to tell what Mordekaiser was thinking or feeling at that moment, every thought and emotion completely concealed behind his blackened helmet.
“But times have changed very quickly and very suddenly, as I am sure you are aware. It is with a heavy heart that I ask you this, and it is only a temporary reassignment I assure you, but… I would like you to step down from your position as Lord of the Shadow Isles for a little while.”
“What?” Mordekaiser exclaimed, thinking he must have misheard.
“In truth, we are about to undergo some huge changes as a region,” Viego continued. “A lot of time and resources that we have put into consolidating our defences must be reallocated into building alliances and friendships with the other regions of Runeterra. Changing our course in this way will help make the Shadow Isles a better place to live in the near future.”
Mordekaiser watched him in astonishment, mouth agape. Viego was acting like he hadn’t just stripped Mordekaiser's life’s work from him in an instant, continuing to talk about frivolous little details concerning their new arrangements.
“In return for helping keep the newly created world peace,” Viego continued, “The Institute has agreed to offer us its protection, which will give us time to work out how we might reverse the Ruination and return the Shadow Isles to our former glory. The path ahead of us is long and difficult, so I imagine we'll need a coordinated effort from the other regions if we hope to see any real success. Given that we can both agree we owe our people to accept the offer, international conflict will drop to an all time low, and will look to stay that way until-”
“I don’t understand,” Mordekaiser cut across him, completely ignoring Viego’s look of shock as he interrupted him. In an attempt to quell the bubbling surge of anger that threatened to rise in his throat, Mordekaiser surged forward, advancing on Viego as he spoke.
“I am the strongest out of anyone in the Isles, in Runeterra even. My power is unmatched, my command of our military and people is resolute, and I have lived my whole life in these very halls ever since you invited me here purely to serve our collective interests.” Mordekaiser had covered the stairs leading up to Veigo’s throne quickly, now looming over him from inches away at full height. What was visible of his face had morphed into an intense glower that would send the bravest of knights scurrying away in fear.
“Who could possibly act as my replacement?” Mordekaiser asked him desperately. “And why? Have I not been dedicated enough? Loyal enough?”
Viego let out a sad sigh. “It is because you are so loyal that I am asking you,” He said, remaining undeterred by the show of anger.
“What does that even mean?” Mordekaiser hissed.
Viego looked at him with what almost looked like pity, only serving to anger Mordekaiser even more. He was not someone that needed to be felt sorry for.
“I know that if I were to ask you to stay by my side for the rest of your life, serving out your duties diligently, you would do so without a second thought,” Viego explained
“Because that is what I owe you,” Mordekaiser answered without needing to think. He felt level headed enough to take a couple of steps back now that his integrity wasn’t being insulted.
“Whatever you may think you owe me, you have already repaid a million times over,” Viego insisted, smiling wryly up at him as they'd had this conversation a dozen times before. No matter how many times Viego tried to express this sentiment to Mordekaiser, he would always refuse to believe it.
“But what I owe to you is to allow you to experience the world outside of these walls, outside of the violence and hardships you are now so familiar with,” Viego continued. “Perhaps this will seem rich coming from someone like myself, but you are still young. You have so much to learn about yourself. And right now, I gain nothing by keeping you here. If you wish to return home afterwards, should our old way of life that we are used to reel its ugly head again, and stand beside me once more... Then of course I will gladly have you back.”
“I want nothing else but to stand with you now,” Mordekaiser protested, still not understanding what was happening, or why. “What would I do if I wasn’t here? I have nowhere else to go.”
“About that...” Viego began, digging out a small, worn piece of paper from below his throne. There was a familiar gold and blue stamp on the envelope, in the shape of a large letter ‘L’, that Viego had discarded to the ground. Mordekaiser immediately recognised it as the Institute of War’s old organisation logo, from the League of Legends they had both once been a part of.
“While we wait to see exactly how the Institute’s undoing will affect us, there is a job I would like you to take on,” Viego said as he considered the letter briefly. “I heard from Yorick that there was a request put in for a bodyguard for the former Demacian champion, Sona Buvelle. Does that name ring any bells?”
Mordekaiser frowned. “I vaguely remember her.”
“It seems that she’ll be travelling for a while and needs someone to look out for her. I know it is not in your usual line of work, but I would like you to accompany her for the time being.”
“You are sending me on a glorified babysitting job for some princess,” Mordekaiser grumbled, hardly seeming pleased. “How is this a better use of my time than staying here as your second in command?”
“For now, there are two main things we need,” Viego told Mordekaiser, ignoring his question. “First, information on how the other regions are reacting to the Institute’s disbandment. We will need to be ready for any change in behaviour the other leaders of Runeterra are making and be prepared to act accordingly. Second, to improve our own reputation, so that we can make alliances and gain respect from the other regions for whatever this uncertain future might bring, and to gain whatever help they might provide us with.”
“The Shadow Isles doesn’t need anyone’s help,” Mordekaiser said, but he knew it to be a lie. Dealing with the aftermath of the Ruination alone would be an impossible task for any one region to deal with alone.
“Perhaps not. But it is our duty to do anything we can to improve the conditions here.”
Mordekaiser knew disagreeing would be pointless. Viego had reason to be so invested in his position, considering the part he’d played in the Ruination. He wouldn't suggest anything without thinking it through beyond any doubt.
“But as I was saying,” Veigo continued, swallowing thickly, “having the Shadow Isles’ most feared and renowned champion travel around with a Demacian ‘princess’ will make us more approachable, while simultaneously allowing us to gain insight into the other region’s plans. It is like killing two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. Don’t you agree?”
Viego watched Mordekaiser carefully as he stood almost completely still, save for the steady rise and fall of his thick armour plates from heavy breaths. Slowly but surely, the tension built up in Mordekaiser’s broad shoulders seemed to release itself.
“And once I am finished with this little mission,” he spat the last word with thinly veiled disgust, “things will go back to the way they were, and I will rule beside you as I always have.”
“Of course,” Viego nodded, relief washing over him. He had always expected that Mordekaiser wouldn’t react to the news kindly, but thankfully he was loyal to him and the Shadow Isles before anything else.
“I will send Yorick through to you with the details later this evening as you prepare to leave, but before that, there is one more thing I want to ask of you. And not as your king. Rather, think of this as a favour to a friend.”
“What does that mean?” Mordekaiser asked.
Once again, Viego didn’t answer his question.
“Promise me that you won’t just focus on the things that I’ve asked you to do, but that you’ll try to enjoy yourself as well.”
Mordekaiser blinked at Viego in silence, unsure of how to respond to such a request. Had he not been standing a few feet away, and seen the way the black mist bent to his will, Mordekaiser would have doubted this was the same king he’d been serving all these years.
“Do you find it so shocking that a king would care for his subjects?” Viego asked him in a half mocking tone. “I know you may find it hard to believe, but there are many things we can learn from living amongst other people and cultures. All I ask of you is to keep an open mind while you are away. You might find something you want to do more than be at my beck and call for the rest of your life.”
Mordekaiser stood still for a moment.
“For the record, I am agreeing to do this because of my loyalty to you and the Shadow Isles,” Mordekaiser made sure to clarify. “I still believe it is an incredibly stupid and pointless endeavour.”
Viego smiled, figuring that was about as close to an agreement as he was going to get.
“And I am eternally grateful for that loyalty,” Viego said.
***
The walk to the edge of the Shadow Isles was a long and repetitive one. The area between Veigo’s castle and their destination was a barren wasteland. A heavy layer of black dust coated the ground, having once been fertile soil long ago. Trees that were no longer alive still stood tall, only now they were skeletons of their former selves, all jagged branches and dried up roots where fresh green leaves and beautiful flowers had once bloomed. With no landmarks or stars in the sky, Mordekaiser wondered how Yorick had any sense of direction at all.
“I assume you’re the one who informed our king of the job?” Mordekaiser grumbled, scornfully kicking a nearby rock into a murky pit of water as they made their way to Yorick’s boat.
“What would make you think that?” Yorick asked him, feigning innocence.
“None of the other Shadow Isles champions would have even bothered to look at such a stupid request.”
“That is one way of viewing things,” Yorick said.
“Did you know that Viego was going to ask me to take it when you showed it to him?” Mordekaiser asked. He didn’t do a very good job of leaving his accusatory tone out of the question.
“Of course I didn’t!” Yorick was very quick to defend himself, adjusting his hood so that he could look at Mordekaiser properly to explain himself. “In fact, I had wanted to take the job for myself. A man can only dig graves for so long before life starts to lose its meaning.”
Yorick stopped in his train of thought when he took in the irritated glare Mordekaiser was levelling at the ground.
“You know, the young lady who you’ll be protecting, Sona Buvelle, is extraordinarily talented,” Yorick futilely tried to instil at least a little excitement in Mordekaiser for the journey ahead. “I managed to catch one of her concerts a while ago, and can barely think of anything else since. I hear she is as sweet a person as her melodies suggest. You are one lucky man, if I don’t say so myself.”
“Well isn’t that lovely.” Mordekaiser’s reply oozed sarcasm. “Why don’t you head off instead, if you’re so interested? Lord knows you’ll get more out of it than I will. ”
Yorick smiled sadly. “You know I can’t do that. And I imagine if you were really so against the idea, you could have just as easily refused. It’s not like any of us could force you to go. Why did you agree to take the job in the first place?”
Mordekaiser said nothing for a while, gazing firmly ahead at the dull horizon that seemed to stretch on forever. Just as Yorick was about to move on to talk about something else, assuming Mordekaiser didn’t deem his question worthy of his time, he finally got an answer.
“I owe the king my life,” Mordekaiser admitted with a heavy sigh. “He took me under his wing when I was nothing, when I had no one else to turn to. He believed in me and gave me a purpose. I could never hope to repay such a gesture, but… I find it hard to understand why the same sense of judgement that gave me so much would now have me out here, playing nice with a few Demacians. What possible purpose for such trivialities could there be?”
“Viego can be a little... erratic, at times,” Yorick confessed. “But here I believe his motives are not quite so complicated. I think he simply wants for you to experience life outside of the Shadow Isles, to see what the world has to offer.”
“He said the same thing,” Mordekaiser said, frowning. “I still don’t understand. I am happy here. I like the Shadow Isles, I like my life as it is. Why must things have to change?”
“I don’t doubt that you are telling the truth, my friend,” Yorick said with a small laugh.
Yorick placed a comforting hand on Mordekaiser’s shoulder plating, which was as he expected promptly shaken off. Still, Yorick continued to lecture him in that all-knowing voice he knew that Mordekaiser would find very annoying.
“But sometimes, you might not even know what you are so dearly missing from your life, simply because you haven’t experienced it yet. With Viego, for example, I am sure that is what his wife was to him. And you, if Viego had not rescued you from being ‘nothing’ as you put it, I’m sure you’d never have come to be so attached to the Shadow Isles and its champions either.”
“I am not attached to anyone,” Mordekaiser growled, turning to scowl at Yorick. “Most certainly not you.”
“Of course not,” Yorick said knowingly. He tried not to feel too hurt by the spiteful comment. “But my point stands all the same. They say that the quickest way for you to discover what you enjoy in life is to travel. It exposes you to many new ideas and people at once, there is bound to be something that catches your eye. If you really decide to come back afterwards, then what is a three month or so blip compared to the rest of your life you’ll be spending here?”
Mordekaiser chose not to answer. He doubted that there would be anything out there that could really satisfy him like wreaking havoc in the Institute’s matches, or helping to rule the Shadow Isles, and the sense of fulfilment that came with such duties. Then again, he could have said the same thing about his fellow Shadow Isles denizens, but it seemed that they had all mellowed out in some way after interacting with the other champions within the institute. Well, most of them at least. Mordekaiser had deliberately excused himself from that list. He had better things to be doing than making friends with people who he might have to fight someday.
Still, if Viego and Yorick, two of the most intelligent people Mordekaiser knew, both thought there was some merit to this idea... Perhaps it wasn’t entirely impossible that there might be something better out there. Something even someone like him could appreciate.
“Shall I take your lack of response as an agreement to what I’ve just said? I don’t want to have to turn back when we’re halfway across the sea.” Yorick said.
Mordekaiser looked up to find Yorick standing before him on the murky coast, leaning slightly on a wooden oar that had been plunged into the ground. Mordekaiser glanced at the large boat before them, gently swaying back and forth in the gloomy waters, before giving a long last look back at his home.
He could still say no. Tell Viego that his idea was stupid, and carry on with his life just as it was.
And yet, there was some tiny part of Mordekaiser that was curious about how his life might turn out, should he take on the opportunity and leave everything he knew behind for a little while.
Yorick was probably right, Mordekaiser thought to himself, taking a step onto the boat that would carry them away from the Shadow Isles. What could possibly change in just a few months?