For Lady Akali, I Offer My Submission

Akali left the Kinkou Order, only to be swept into an even deeper whirlpool: the undercurrents of Ionia. Things began to emerge that could not be brought into “balance” by conventional means.

Then, at a waystation on a rainy night, she met that man.

Yimengjiade. A long black coat, eerie violet eyes, skin as pale as a ghost's shadow beneath the moon. He was languid to the point of gloom, yet when Noxian pursuers came at him with their blades, he raised a hand with elegant ease. White scales surfaced on his skin, a violet serpent's shadow flickered behind him, and Void chains seized every throat with artistic precision.

“Monster,” she judged, gripping her kunai.

“Likewise.” He withdrew the chains, his voice utterly calm.

So began a temporary alliance between two wary travelers, each with their own agenda.

From Bilgewater's damp docks to Shurima's scorching sands, then on to the bone-chilling ice fields of Freljord. She carved a path with her kunai, kama, and Twilight Shroud; he maintained his ever-weary expression, but at crucial moments became a master wrapped in white scales, weaving his chains into an absolute domain.

Learning to work together was painful. She hated being controlled, even when it was for her protection. He was used to solitude, yet late at night, when she bandaged his wounds, his gaze would always flicker.

Change came quietly.

As the ship rocked, his fingers lingered too long as he wiped blood from her cheek.

While they sought warmth in an ice cave, the violent pounding of his heart beneath his pale skin betrayed his secret.

When ancient memories of the Void surged in his eyes, the hilt of the kunai she offered pulled him back to reality.

“Akali,” he said, speaking her full name for the first time. His voice was low beneath the howling glacier winds. “From now on, my chains will create a domain for you alone.”