//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: Greed is Colder than Stone // Story: League of Discord // by Ghosted Note //------------------------------// League of Discord Chapter 7: Greed is Colder than Stone Swain's sleep, for as long as he could remember, had been as cold and empty as many misguided souls claimed he was. The truth was, Swain's heart constantly ached with a pressing need, an unfulfilled wish, an unyielding ambition to claim what was his. Beneath this, fear burned at the inevitability of the consequences of his actions. He did not believe he was wrong, but he knew that everything had a price paid, and his debts were still unattended. The ride to Canterlot was several hours, though, and Swain had thought to recover a few hours lost from the night before. This time, his dreams were as full as his ambitions. - - - - The adolescent limped silently into the Noxian infirmary. The doctor gaped as the boy flatly requested treatment for a leg that had been snapped in half, bone protruding from the skin. The youth named himself as Jericho Swain, and calmly answered all of the doctor's questions regarding his health and medical background. The boy's face didn't flinch once as the doctor reset his leg with a sickening pop and crackle. The doctor was nearly beside himself with bewilderment as he recommended magical treatment for the leg. Swain seemed almost annoyed at this as he responded. “No magic shall touch me but my own. Do you have a crutch I may use?” The doctor nodded, dumbstruck. As Swain hobbled out of the door, the bird on his shoulder let out a disdainful cry. - - - - “You, join the glorious Noxian army? A cripple?!” The recruiter couldn't help but laugh at the young man before him. The bird affixed to Swain's shoulder seemed equally amused, but perhaps not for the same reason, and it cackled evilly. Swain did seem amused, however. The recruiter's secretary watched in terror as Swain gave his response. After a few seconds, the screaming subsided, and a broken body lay on the floor where the recruiter used to stand, eyes locked on the horror that his last sight had been. Swain hobbled around the corpse, avoiding the crimson puddle forming near his feet, and looked the secretary in the eye. “You have been given a field promotion. I would like to join the Noxian Officer Corps. Are you going to tell me no?” The raven eyed the corpse hungrily. - - - - Swain calmly limped across the battlefield, as soldiers both Noxian and Demacian fell around him. A Demacian soldier had the ignorance to try to engage him. Swain raised his hand. As the bolt of magical energy hit the unlucky infantryman, he hit the ground, writhing in agony. Swain continued hobbling to his target, stopping only to deliver a coup de grâce to the soldier with the sturdy cane supported his stride with. Before him, just a few yards away, Jarvan Lightshield IV, crown prince of Demacia, and one of the last of two witnesses to Swain's crime, stood, fighting in the tradition of Demacians, bravely and showily. Swain felt the familiar changes race through his body as he prepared to strike. - - - - “It's done. Slaughter whoever you wish, but Noxus is mine. You can have him as a token of good faith.” Swain's face was as emotionless as always as the hooded figure floated toward a younger version of Jarvan, bound and gagged. The figure appraised Jarvan for a few seconds. “One soul means nothing to us. We expect you to perform your role without faltering. Remember the gifts we have already given, and remember what you have given to us. What you lack will not be returned until we have what we wish. We must depart. You have visitors.” Swain's face flickered in frustration as he heard the sounds of battle nearby. - - - - Blankness. Swain looked around at the nothing that he now found himself in, gratefully noting that he still remained in his original human form. “It took me a while to figure out what exactly you gave up. You sure love your risktaking, Jericho Swain.” Swain wheeled about, coming face to face with what seemed to be some sort of hideous chimera, a pony's face speaking from a body made of parts from too many creatures. “My name is Discord. You, my good pony, or whatever it is that you are, seem like someone I could get along with, or at least long enough for us both to gain something. You see, I have been waiting for someone like you. I even had a long speech prepared and everything about Celestia's tyranny, but I don't think that I'll need it here. I'll cut to the meat of why I'm here instead. You have something I need, and I have something I think you will like.” Swain remained expressionless, feeling strangely naked without the presence of his bird. As if Discord could look past the blank facade, he patted Swain on the shoulder. “Don't you worry about your...friend. It would be unproductive for both of us if he were able to perceive this particular exchange. I'll be quick. I can give you a way out of your deal. You see, back in the day, I was pretty powerful. More powerful than Celestia and Luna combined. Even when they found the Elements of Harmony and imprisoned me, it was only a temporary setback. Unfortunately, I underestimated how much being a statue for several thousand years can damage your combat capabilities, and to be honest, your capacity to think clearly. I got a little bit overconfident on my second chance very recently, and I made a bit of a misstep. Bam, back to the statue garden for me, or rather, until Celestia decided that she wasn't going to risk me being released so easily again.” “You want me to free you.” Swain's voice was as flat as his expression. “What do I get out of it?” “As I said, I can give you a way out of your little deal. You help restore me, and I'll restore you. If you can help me, I'll heal that withered lump that they reduced your soul to, and the bird will be a luxury instead of a necessity. Of course, he won't know that. What you do then is up to you. Do we have a deal?” Discord extended a lion's paw toward Swain. Swain remained motionless. “How do I know I can trust you?” “You honestly think I believe you'll trust me no matter what I do? I'm not offering trustworthiness. I'm the living embodiment of chaos and disharmony. I'm offering you the assurance that I have absolutely nothing to gain from making an enemy out of you, and everything to gain by sticking to my end of the bargain. If you accept, I'll even give you a little advance on your payment, so that Celestia doesn't see right through you the moment you step before her. Believe me, I'm mostly responsible for her being the great judge of character she is today, for better or worse. So, what do you say? Deal?” Swain stood silently for several moments. After what seemed like an eternity to Discord, he extended a hand. The spirit giggled delightedly, practically shaking with excitement before speaking. “Okay. Listen carefully. I am sealed in a vault hidden in the rarely-used Canterlot dungeons. It's at the bottom floor of the castle. Don't look for me yet though; I trust you to use the utmost discretion. You are a politician, after all. I need you to retrieve a set of powerful artifacts known as the Nightmare's Regalia, created by Luna during a fit of, pardon my pun, lunacy. Unfortunately, she's cured now, thanks once more to those blasted Elements of Harmony. Anyway, Bring them to my statue. I'll draw from the magic still remaining in them, and use it to free myself. The Nightmare's Regalia resides in the abandoned Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters in the Everfree Forest. It will be a set of armor fitted for an alicorn such as Luna or Celestia. All you have to do is bring it to me, and I'll do the rest. Maybe after that we can do some more business to facilitate getting you back to where you came from as well. Okay, time for you to wake up now. Up and at 'em, whatever-you-are.” - - - - Swain awoke with a rasping cough, an unfamiliar pain surging through his body. As the pain subsided, he felt a long-forgotten warmth coursing through his mind. Swain couldn't stop a small smile from escaping his lips. Singed looked over with concern at the coughing fit. “You okay? Wouldn't want you keeling over this close to Canterlot.” Singed had to admit that Swain's cold, but strangely sincere laughter disquieted his mind. “Oh, just a particularly strange dream. I shall tell you about it when we have some privacy.” “Must have been some dream.” - - - - Ezreal stared down his opponent. Applejack leered back as Fluttershy set up the targets in the background. It had been less than an hour since Nasus had escorted his companions into town and introduced them to Twilight and her friends, and by a chance twist of conversation, the subject of skill and hoof-eye coordination had come up, inevitably leading to Ezreal proclaiming his superiority at being a marksman, and that he'd probably make just as good a markspony. Ryze wasn't the only one slightly grated at what seemed to be a familiar showy nature, and Applejack had decided to put the young stallion in his place. “And Ah can do it without nothin' but mah hooves!” Her proclamation had sealed the challenge. Ryze had swiftly grown irritated at the waste of time he considered the competition to be, and had busied himself in the library that Twilight called home. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie were all gathered about Nasus, eagerly questioning him about various things. Rarity was especially fascinated by Nasus' descriptions of everyday life on Runeterra. “You're saying that every day, almost all the time, Runeterrans wear clothes?! I'd be wealthier than Prince Blueblood if ponies cared that much about clothing here.” In the background, various splatting noises could be heard as Applejack tossed apples she had gathered to use as projectiles into the air, and kicked them with uncanny precision at the targets. Nasus found himself slightly amused at Ezreal's expression as he tried to figure out how a being without hands could toss anything, obviously not knowing enough about magic to recognize the innate kinds the various pony subspecies seemed to possess. He turned back to Rarity. “Yes. Even on my homeworld, clothes were considered mandatory, and it was considered indecent to be without at least a small amount covering the waist and chest.” Rarity was imagining a society where everypony was her customer, and it was a fantasy she was very eager to hear more about. “What do inhabitants of your world call fashionable, anyway?” “Well, the various species of Runeterra have completely varied tastes. The yordles of bandle city seem to take a minimalist, practical approach. If they wear heavy clothing, it's usually protective or good for storing tools or something like that. Understandable, considering that an adult yordle only comes up to your knees. Humans, the dominant species, are extremely varied. Fashion depends on where you are from, how much money you have, your skin tone, many different factors. As for my species, there are only two on the entirety of Runeterra, and I cannot imagine my brother is in a state to care about his appearance at the moment. I will admit though that when I am not in my ceremonial armor, I tend to dress very plainly. The desert is not kind to high fashion, and my lifestyle demands very durable materials if I wish for my clothing to remain intact.” Twilight saw a glint in Rarity's eyes and moved to intercept the conversation before it spiraled out of control into the inevitable destination of Rarity's boutique. “So, Nasus, Swain talked a little bit about the League of Legends, but he didn't say much. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you do in the League?” Nasus' heart sank. The truth, however, was a gift worthy of the hospitality he had received. “The continent of Valoran is a politically unstable mire of greed, corruption, and conflicting ideologies, but it used to be much worse, from what I know. Before I was torn from my homeworld by the call of a Summoner's spell, Valoran had been ripped apart by conflict. The magics used were potent and the restraint of their casters were equally as lacking. The carelessness of Valoran's inhabitants threatened to make the land unlivable. Thus, the three most powerful magicians, now known as the High Council of Equity, orchestrated the formation of the League to act as a restraint and a safer method of arbitration for the warring city-states and tribes. Summoners would back a political entity, and champion the causes of nations on the Fields of Justice. The Summoners would mentally link with beings such as myself and my companions to be the strategic portion of a contest of magical and martial might and skill.” The four ponies looked aghast, though Rainbow Dash had already slightly steeled herself against the realities that Riven had shown to her about Runeterra. Twilight looked especially disturbed. “They ripped you and your brother away from your home...to fight? That's...That's terrible. Why do you help them?” Nasus looked remorseful for a moment. “It is best that my brother is where he is at the moment. As for myself...I arrived at an early portion of the League's inception, where it was still a fragile thing. Political entities did not trust it enough to dedicate their finest warriors to the cause of stopping war. War is a horrible thing, more horrible than anything you will ever experience here, I suspect. I was ripped by a summoning spell from my homeworld under dark circumstances, and I knew just how damaging war could be to a world. I realized that my presence in the League could help provide a measure of peace and stability to a people who had lived under the shadow of conflict for as long as they could remember. It is not ideal, and it is nothing like the land that you have shown me today, but for the peoples of Valoran, it's a vast improvement. Perhaps, given long enough, they may find something even better. That is my hope.” Pinkie Pie tilted her head, looking puzzled. “Why do you look all sad when you talk about your brother? Valoran sounds bad enough, and siblings are supposed to make you happy.” The others visibly flinched at Pinkie's lack of tact. Nasus did not seem offended, but the eery red glow that sat in the place of his eyes dimmed slightly. “I thank you for your concern. However, sometimes the past is best left to itself. Trouble not your hearts with the mistakes of a civilization or the regrets of an old fool.” Nasus looked in the distance, where Ezreal was wearing an increasingly hopeless expression. Magic was a lot easier to aim than an apple was. “It appears my young companion has met his match. Perhaps he might even realize there is a lesson to be learned here about not overestimating one's abilities.” The group dispersed and gravitated toward the two competitors, three of the mares extremely grateful for a chance to dodge what seemed like a very touchy subject from a very dark world, while the fourth remained unextinguishably chipper. Twilight reflected on what she had learned, and found that her view of Nasus and his fellow champions was of respect mixed with pity. She could only imagine if she had to leave her home to fight as an occupation, and she didn't think it would be a fulfilling existence. Yet these ponies, or whatever they normally were, were willing to give up their own chance at living a peaceful existence for the sake of others. It was no wonder that a few of them seemed so strange and unsettling. Fighting constantly could only be a scarring experience. The mood lightened somewhat as Applejack lightly teased Ezreal, who was experimenting with the natural magic that allowed the ponies to manipulate things with hooves. Pinkie Pie had to be restrained from throwing a post-competition celebration, and was only abated when the group promised that before the other transport Celestia had sent upon hearing of the second group arrived, they would be able to have a group meal and some time to casually interact, which the pink mare reasoned was like a miniature party, without the games or music. Nasus suggested that he be the one to break the news to the rather misanthropic Ryze, who as expected, took the gathering as an interruption in his research on Equestrian magic. Before long, the three stallions and the six mares were gathered at a table in one of Ponyville's few restaurants. “I do not wish to waste your funds. I assure you, eating for me is entirely optional.” Nasus did not wish to offend is hosts, but he did not wish to be a burden either. Rarity giggled in her overly-ladylike manner. “Do not trouble yourself, my dear. The fashion industry, despite our society being clothing-optional, has been kind to me, and I personally will see to it that while you are in Equestria, you see proper Equestrian hospitality. Since you're not normally ponies, I'd recommend the carrot soup or the daisy salad. This restaurant does a fine job at preparing both dishes.” Nasus conceded. “If you insist. I suppose I shall try the soup then.” It wasn't long afterward that the waiter arrived and took orders, with various soups, sandwiches, salads, and a cupcake arriving an impressively short time afterward. Rainbow Dash took a bite of her sandwich, unaware at Rarity glaring at her for her messy eating style. “So Ezreal,” the mare said in between bites, “Other than Applejack showing you up earlier, we don't know much about you. Nasus has told us plenty about him, and Ryze practically screams egghea-I mean scholar.” She paused to rub a hoof against the leg that Twilight had kicked. “So what do you do? I mean, besides the League stuff.” “I'm an explorer and a mapmaker! Best in Piltover. My parents were pretty bummed out when I dropped out of school to be a cartographer, but they got over it when I started raking in cash for having the highest quality maps around. Not to brag, okay, maybe a little bit of bragging, but I wasn't even an adult when the government of Piltover started commissioning my maps. The League isn't my main thing. I mean, it was kinda accidental that I got involved in it, but it seems like a good way to contribute to the community and all, plus free publicity.” Ezreal grinned. “An accident? Geez, does anyone join the League by choice?” Twilight's voice took on an undertone of light sarcasm. “Oh, plenty, but those are mostly affiliated with the military forces of various city-states, or have some great crusade or point to prove or something. I just happened to find this amulet thing in a tomb in the Shurima Desert that allows the user to manipulate magic so long as there is a source nearby. Luckily, I qualify as a source. Less luckily, I occasionally catch interference from Summoners' magic. So, one day I found myself accidentally sucked onto Summoner's Rift. The match was delayed, they explained everything to me, and I rolled with it.” Ryze glowered. “You can tell he takes the effects of his actions on the world seriously, that one.” Fluttershy managed to overcome the nervousness-induced seal on her speech, and spoke in a kind tone that made Ryze feel like he was being force-fed candy. “Well, um, why did you join then?” “Well, Rainbow Dash had it pretty much nailed. I'm an 'egghead'. Aside from the whole keeping the world politically stable bit, the League represented an unparalleled opportunity to study the most powerful magic techniques in Valoran. I've spent years compiling the knowledge I've gained about magic into written form, and I intend to learn as much as I can about it, considering I have a rather...primal connection to it. And yes, before you start gawking, the tattoos are a part of that. I also teach in my spare time. It's a blasted shame that kids these days don't learn a thing about proper magic and its history.” Ezreal rolled his eyes. “Yes, and he's also the friendliest member of the League, did I mention?” This elicited laughter from everyone but Ryze, who huffed indignantly. As the group left the restaurant and arrived at Twilight's library, in the distance they could see a distant blotch. Ezreal examined the blotch for a few moments. “Looks like our ride is here.”