Hey guys,

Most of you probably won't know this, but a long, long time ago (November 24th 2011, to be precise), I wrote a blog on MOBAFire (now deleted) in which I said that I was planning on using my blog to write League of Legends fanfiction, because I enjoy writing and I had (what I believed at the time was) a pretty good idea for a story.

As those of you who do remember this happening will know, that never ended up actually happening. Like with all of my attempts to write a guide in the past, I ultimately reached a point where I felt like I simply didn't know how to improve my story, and yet at the same time it wasn't good enough.

Fast forward 5.5 years into the future, and you might be able to guess why I'm writing this blog now (and why it has the title it does). The other day, while searching for something on my old laptop, I ran into a text file which contained said story, still 90% done. Though I still feel it could be (massively) improved, I'm also at the point where I feel like it might be fun to share instead of worrying about anyone's opinion on it, so I decided to finish it to share with you today.

And so today, believe it or not, is the day that OP finally delivers.

There most likely won't be any follow-up stories, so enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: This story was written back when "Summoners" were still a thing, and assumes that Jarvan IV is a weak champion while Lux is a strong one, something which at the time of writing was far from true.

There he was...

She had heard the Summoners. Talking about him, laughing at him, insulting him. Useless, they had called him. Weak.

From the tone of their voices, it became obvious that they had lost interest in the man that had nobly served their cause so many times. Just like other champions before him, Jarvan IV had been forgotten, had no longer been deemed strong enough to be a deciding factor in the ongoing battles that were fought out on the Fields. She hadn't seen him in months...

...Until now.

While standing on the platform, she had not even noticed him. Occupied with commands from her impatient summoner, she had run as hard as she could to claim the middle lane before anyone else could. She was completely shocked, therefore, to see Jarvan IV emerging from the jungle halfway through the game, bravely engaging in battle against her enemy laner.


She saw him fly through the sky, landing only a few feet away from his target with such an impact that the ground itself trembled. Soon a ring of terrain shot up, trapping the enemy within its boundaries. She could hear him laugh confidently as he took his lance and slammed it into the face of his unfortunate opponent, the sheer strength behind the swing being enough to knock his target into the air.

As she watched him, she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. All this time, she had worried about him. All this time, she had feared that maybe, just maybe, the rumours were right and he had changed somehow.

Looking at him now, she cursed at herself for being such a fool. They were wrong, they were all wrong. His armor had remained undented, his lance sharper than ever. She saw beads of sweat dripping down his arms, outlining his impressive muscles. She could see the desire in his eyes, the hunger ever present. It was obvious that he had waited a long time for this moment, for his chance to finally be able to show his true strength. And it was glorious.

Realising that he was not receiving any help, Jarvan IV turned around in anger, searching for the teammate that refused to help him. As his eyes met Lux', all anger immediately fled from his face.
His eyes widened as he allowed his lance to fall harmlessly to the floor; clearly he was as surprised as she. Just moments ago he had been fighting, but now he simply stood there, staring at her completely unsure of what to do or say.

She smiled at him, remembering the times when the two of them used to hide together in a brush, sharing a private moment before the summoners got suspicious. They had talked about a lot during those times. She felt a tear run down her cheek as she remembered the sweet things he had said, the things he had promised her. Together, they had established a future, a life outside of the League.

She grinned at the memory of his face when she had expressed her desire to one day raise a child of her own. He had been reluctant, at first, had said they were 'weak creatures' and called it 'nonsense' when she reminded him that he too was once like that. Slowly but steadily, however, she had noticed he grew to like the idea, his chest slightly swelling with pride as he stubbornly tried to convince her that the kid should really learn to wield a lance no later than at the age of five.

Looking at him now, she longed for his muscled arms to surround her once again, for his light *********s to look deep into hers, for the soft touch of his lips...

Seeing her desire reflected in his eyes, she reached out a trembling hand and started walking towards him, when suddenly she felt a tingling sensation, soon turning into a feeling of searing pain. Feeling it spread swiftly through her body, she stumbled to the floor as her legs lost the strength to keep her moving forward any longer. Denying the excruciating pain, she tried calling out to him, but found her voice lacking in strength.

Faintly she could hear the Summoners screaming at her, telling her to move, to do something, to wake up. She looked at her own body in disbelief as she saw red-hot flames surround her, attempting to feast on her soft skin.

As the pain intensified, thousands of images floated before her eyes, of past, present and future. She remembered when she first met Jarvan IV and how he had clumsily managed to get his lance stuck in the bark of a tree while trying to impress her with his fighting moves (ensuring her at the time that "it was all part of the plan" before smiling weakly when he found himself unable to retrieve it), then saw the memory go up in flames before her eyes to be replaced by the image of a little boy, a boy she knew had not yet been born. His eyes resembling those of his father and his blonde hair matching his mother's, the boy stood before her, beautiful as she had always imagined him to be.

Jarvan V.

As she saw the image of him burning as well, she cried out in agony. Although she knew that the image was not real, it felt as if the flames burned her entire future, her dreams, her hope.

She snapped out of it when she heard the painful cry of a man nearby. She looked up, seeing Jarvan IV drop to his knees a few feet in front of her. He was clearly in pain as well and was panting heavily. She saw his entire body turn a bright red as flames danced across the surface of his skin.

"Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

Her eyes widened in shock as it became clear to her what had happened. Their moment of weakness had allowed the enemy Brand to recover from Jarvan's assault, and he had taken full advantage.

He stood in front of them now, laughing while flames burst from his eyes. "You know", he said, "Some say the world will end in fire...". He smiled wickedly. After a couple of seconds, his eyes narrowed as he looked at both of them again, now with an obvious sense of loathing. He had seen their faces when they had looked at each other, he knew what it had meant.

He balled his fists as flames started engulfing his entire body. Slowly, the flames converged and formed a huge ball of fire between the palm of his hands. His eyes widened and the smile returned to his face.

"Now.... BURN!"

He laughed maniacally as he directed the ball of flames towards them.

She heard the screams of the Summoners again, this time louder, angrier. She closed her eyes trying to understand what they were saying, but it was hard to understand which message they were trying to get across: one of them was swearing at her, another cursing at Jarvan IV, a third speaking in a language she had never even heard before.

Finally, she decided to ignore them. Whatever they were saying was not going to help her reach the man she truly loved. As she opened her eyes again, she saw that his right arm was stretched out towards her. With the last bit of strength she had left within her, she forced herself to move closer, reach his hand and pull herself towards him.

After what seemed like a lifetime, she felt his strong arms surround her again, looked deep into his mesmerizing *********s and finally, finally felt the soft touch of his lips.

She heard Brand's laugh turn into a roar of anger as he cast another spell, greatly intensifying the flames surrounding them, but it did not matter.

It did not hurt.

As much as he tried, Brand was unable to hurt her anymore, for as she kissed Jarvan IV, the pain ceased. She felt her entire body turning numb, her mind being cleared of any feelings of doubt, worry or pain.

As she opened her eyes again and looked around, she gasped in sudden realisation of what was happening. She was floating. Looking down, she saw two bodies still burning on the floor below her, a blonde girl wrapped in the arms of a man in shining golden armor.

Feeling her body gain momentum, she looked back up to find herself moving towards an immense bright light. As she approached it, she was struck by a thought, a thought so absurd she couldn't help but laugh. For as she felt herself being grabbed by the hands of death itself, she realised that Jarvan IV, the brave, compassionate yet stubborn man she had grown to love, had been right all along...

...Today was indeed a good day to die.