Arcane, Voice of Zaun

"Mom," I muttered, shaking the body next to me. My small hands trembled as they gripped her shoulder. The room was so dark, all I could see was a silhouette of her. "Mom, mom."

Slowly the body moved, I could make out some of the features, though my mother's black hair definitely wasn't helping me at making her out. My mom's eyes opened, lazily, slowly.

"What is it sweetie?" Her voice was thick with sleep, but gentle like always.

"I can't sleep," I whispered to her.

"Today neither?" she asked, slowly sitting up.

I shook my head, for the past few weeks I hadn't been able to sleep.

A tired sigh escaped my mom's lips after which she slowly moved her body as she settled her back on the backboard. The thin mattress creaked beneath us, the sound somehow too loud in the quiet night.

"Do you want me to sing to you?" she asked through a yawn.

I nodded my head vigorously as I snuggled next to her, my head resting on her lap. Her warmth was comforting, pushing back the cold that seemed to seep from the walls of our tiny room, I was ten, too old, for lullabies, but they always helped me, my mother's humming voice was one of the few things I liked about the Undercity, maybe the only thing.

Fumbling beneath the bed, my mother's questing hand eventually found one of our few meager possessions - a battered old electric lantern that served as our nightlight. With a click and a buzz, the device sputtered to life, casting a weak amber glow that strained to reach the far corners of our cramped living space. 

"Cough, cough," I hacked, my chest seizing painfully. The air, I hated it, even though I was born here, I couldn't get used to it. It was always so painful.

"The air seems thicker tonight," mom said releasing a cough of her own.

It really was, it felt like it was clogging in my throat, sometimes it even made my eyes water or my stomach close.

"Try not to think about it Paul, close your eyes." Her fingers stroked through my curly hair, the way she always did when I was scared.

It was soothing.

I did as I was told, letting my eyelids fall shut and clutching tighter to the threadbare fabric of her dress. The worn cotton was soft beneath my fingers, carrying hints of cheap soap and my mother's own comforting scent.

A low, wordless hum filled the air as Mom began to sing. There were no lyrics, no real melody, just a soothing rise and fall of musical notes.

It always helped me fall asleep.

However something began to happen.

Even though I had my eyes closed I began to see something. The darkness behind my eyelids shifted, changed, became something else entirely.

A dream.

No, not a dream.

A nightmare.

A city spread out before me, a city I had only seen once or twice from the distance.

Piltover.

Buildings of stone and steel reaching toward a sky turned red with flame.

Burning.

So much fire.

The flames kept on growing and growing, consuming.

I could feel the heat on my face, smell the acrid smoke that turned the air black.

Blood.

So much blood.

It ran in rivers through the streets, staining the stones crimson. Bodies floated in the crimson, their eyes wide open.

Flesh and steel merged together in twisted forms.

I wanted to run, to hide, to wake up, but I couldn't move. I was forced to watch as armies clashed beneath banners I didn't recognize, giant weapons, some glowing others fused to human flesh. I didn't understand.

At the center of the blood and battle was a mountain, a mountain of corpses, flayed, mutilated and burnt. And there, atop the grisly bone-piles, stood a lone figure. A man, silhouetted by the hellish flames.

A bloodied knife in his hand, slowly dripping into the rivers of blood that flooded the streets.

The origin of everything.

The man however wasn't looking at all the bloodshed but at the sky, at least he was.

His head slowly fell, his eyes meeting mine.

Intense, piercing cerulean blue eyes staring into mine. Even the whites in his eyes were blue.

"That's the future, it's coming," I whispered in my bed. "A war spreading across Runeterra like unquenchable fire." 

"Paul what's happening are you okay?"

A voice, my mother's voice, but it was drowned out by the roar of the flames, by the screams of the dying, by every sound you could possibly think of. A horrendous amalgamation of noise.

My mother's voice? Forgotten as quickly as it had come.

All I could do was hold myself and mutter, my voice small and broken like a child's toy, that I had never had.

"Somebody help me please."

I whispered, lower this time.

"Please."

"Paul! Paul!"

My eyes opened wide, but the visions didn't stop. They overlapped with reality, making everything twist and blur.

I immediately scurried back from my mother almost falling from the bed. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, and I could taste copper in my mouth.

"Awariscoming.Fanaticallegionsworshippingatthesignofskulls.Awarinmyname." The words poured from my mouth like vomit, burning my throat.

The knife reappeared in my vision, now without an owner, the blade still dripping with blood.

"Everyoneshoutingmyname."

I saw masses of people, their faces twisted in religious fervor, screaming a name I knew.

"Paul," my mom said reaching out but as she did.

A new vision crashed into my mind – thousands of people, their eyes glowing with that same cerulean blue as the man had. No matter their states, dead, injured or healthy, all of them shouted the same thing

The same name.

"PAUL!"

I scurried as deep as I could into the bed, holding my legs close to my chest. The sheets were wet with sweat or tears or both. I could smell my own fear, sharp and acrid.

My mother reached out to grab me, but I couldn't see her face, all I could do was feel her touch.

"Paul, it's alright. I'm here."

She grabbed my head trying to put me in her embrace, she kissed my cheek. Her touch was warm, real.

However all I could see, all I could feel, was those blue eyes, staring at me.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I yelled, my voice echoing in a manner that no human should be able to do.

My mother, as if obeying my commands, immediately went backwards, falling off the bed. The thud of her body hitting the floor was lost beneath the echoes of my scream.

I however just kept my legs close to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. Maybe if I was small enough, the visions wouldn't be able to find me.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't even breathe.

All I could do was watch and listen as the same word echoed in my mind.

"PAUL,PAUL,PAUL!!"