At the bottom of the lake rested a sword. The sword, a gift from the celestial emerald dragon himself, was the secret to true ascention, power and immortality and in turn was Runeterra’s most sought after artefact. This lake sat in a chamber, secretly stowed beneath the heavenly mountains undisturbed.
Janna drifted around the lake impatiently. Her tailwinds rippled the calm waters, revealing glimpses of Ionian blue beneath a sea of pink lotus petals.
It had only been one day since Fiora left and already she was anxious. Her staff grew weary in her hands and she rested it gently against the carved stone wall.
She just hoped that Fiora had the heart to carry out her mission.
In the warmer seasons, the Ionian forests are a blaze of gold. Trees burst with ripe fruit and bright flowers spring forth from the amber plains.
Fiora doesn’t notice.
The woodlands of her homeland flash past. Foliage caressing her cheeks as she dashes onward.
Fiora gripped her blade tighter, carving into her palms her determination. The blade, made from ancient Ionian metals, had been a mythical family heirloom passed down generations of fine fighters. The blade that once wielded by the legendary wind warrior Souma.
The blade that would end the reign of terror.
Fiora presses on.
When she was younger, Fiora had always looked up to him. She remembered the heated duels during the training sessions, the ones against an assortment of plucky men from villages whose youthful exuberance gave them the ego. He would strike them down in quick graceful movements. Fiora would watch, her gaze transfixed on his every swift motion, careful and precise.
Yi had once been a calm and wise man.
But his search for the Sacred Sword had consumed him and turned his heart dark. Only those that aided him in his journey were spared from suffering. In his mind, the only way to prevent Ionia from falling to Noxus was for him to assert his tyrannical rule using power. The power of the Sacred Sword.
But Fiora would always remain grateful to Yi.
It was the legendary swordsman himself that had trained her to become the masterful duellist that she was today.
And after the completion her training, there was only one battle she had ever lost.
The battle to win Yi’s heart.
Fiora knew where Yi was going to be. Along with Janna, they had tracked him for months, following his every step and documenting every single one of his cruel actions. It had hurt her. But Fiora knew to put aside her feelings to do what was best for her people.
Yi was meditating with the setting sun behind him. For a moment, Fiora glimpsed the man she had once known.
“I see you have come to face me.”
Yi did not open his eyes. He had always known that his actions would not be without consequence. There was, of course, only person strong enough to face him.
“You need to stop now. The people do not deserve your treatment and the blade must not be disturbed.”
“Do you really want your land, the land of all magics to fall? I will not stop until that blade is in my hands. Even if that means going through…” Slowly, he opened his eyes. “You.”
Fiora knew there was no other choice.
“En garde!” She raised her blade.
It had always Fiora’s dream to surpass her hero. It was her dream ever since her father had taught her about their rich family heritage.
She knew exactly how he fought. She had fought him many times during her training. She was one of the few warriors who had survived the receiving end of his relentless alpha strikes, albeit not at all unscathed. But Fiora also knew that Yi was also ready to face her. After all, it was he that had trained her.
And now, it was time to fight. It was her only chance to prove to herself that she had fulfilled her dream and was worthy to continue the family legacy.
Yi immediately barraged towards her, his alpha strike forcing Fiora to defend. Fiora, however, riposted only to be met with a meditating Yi who resisted her strike.
She knew that it would not be easy.
She watched as he recovered quickly and, with barely a second in between, sprang up again with a burst of strikes. She returned them, reminiscent of the hours and hours of gruelling training he had imposed on her as a student. Out of breath, she tumbled over, catching her breath during a precious lapse.
Yi charged aggressively at her. She knew exactly what this move was. It was the highlander, the epitome of Yi’s focus and technique, was but a curveball out of Yi’s varied arsenal of attacks, one she had studied ferociously in her youth.
She saw her opportunity then and there. She lunched towards him, plunging her sword into one of Yi’s vitals.
It was almost too easy.
“Sorry, master,” she said softly as she watched Yi slowly drop to the ground.
Inside the mountain, Janna continued to flutter about restlessly.
She had already sensed Fiora’s victory, but she knew that she was to remain vigilant.
At last, she heard the chamber doors starting to open.
But something felt wrong. It was not Fiora at the doorway, but a strange strange blindfolded man.
She immediately froze, raising her staff preparing to defend. The man lowered his hood to reveal a large smirk. He raised his fist preparing to fight.
Janna gasped. “The mark of the dragon…”