Prologue

A little girl, about the age of eight, stood at the edge of a river, glaring at her own rippled reflection: messy ruby hair, flaming hot eyes and milky skin. She always hated her hair, her eyes and her skin; she wanted normal hair, normal eyes and neutral skin. "I always get teased when I walk out of the house," She would often repeat this phrase to her mother and father. "Mom, Dad, why am I so different from the others?" Her memories flying by in her mind as she continued staring. As a result, her parents would reply back: "Everyone is different, Shyvana. You know that."

"But I don't want to different," Shyvana, the young girl, huffed toward her mother's voice within her imagination. "I want hair, like the girls that I go to school with. At least their hair doesn't get tangled all the time-" Using her hand, she combed her hair with the tips of her digits. Of course; it was untameable, eventually, her fingers got stuck in her filaments. "-Oh, not again…" She sighed and left the river in defeat.

The young Shyvana sat down in a seat, reading a book about the Lightshield Family. She thought for a moment and glared to the photo of Jarvan IV.

"He looks like a spoiled brat who doesn't give a damn about his people," Shyvana huffed in annoyance. "I feel bad for the sucker who is going to marry him in the future." She glanced at her female classmates, all of them telling each other how handsome the young prince is. She agreed with them that the fact he is decent looking. But love wasn't something she wasn't interested, she was interested in books, she craved for education, she wanted to attend the best academy Runeterra could offer, unlike the other girls who craved for the prince's non-existing attention.

"I'm going to be Mrs. Lightshield the Fourth," one said, grabbing a photo out of her pocket and kissed it. "He's sooooo cute."

"Take a break, you won't have a chance with him," Another said. "He only goes for royal people."

"Nothing is impossible if you believe," The first one commented, she took a glance at Shyvana. Then she lowered her voice. "I mean, a half-dragon was born."

The girls laughed at Shyvana, who sighed. She was lonely, she knew that and she didn't care. She only thought friends as an optional choice, she never knew the true meaning of friendship and she never wanted to know.

"And if you look there, you'll see a loner," Exclaimed a voice. Shyvana knew who that came from without looking up. "You can totally see she's a loner since she has no friends!"

"Aren't you tired of this?" The young half-dragon sighed in annoyance.

Amelia Irelan, one of Shyvana's classmates, frowned. Her forty-three muscles arranged into perfection. "Of course not, Leslie," Amelia hissed. "You're the best prey yet."

"My name is Shyvana."

"Leslie, Shyvana… it's the same," The white-haired girl announced as the students continuing to stare at the two girls' bicker.

"Once you go full retard, you'll never go back." Shyvana huffed to herself. Her father taught her to endure her anger, she is quite the prodigy; her father would always say when she mastered the technique with two weeks of training.

"Seriously, Ellianna… Can you get any stupider?" Amelia grunted, flipping her snow hair all over the place. The scent of strawberries wafted into Shyvana's nose. She gagged; it smelled like a dead corpse.

"Ever heard of too much fragrance?" Shyvana implied, pinching her nose slightly.

"Ever heard of dyeing your hair too much?" Amelia shot back, everyone cheered for her comeback. "It's ugly! Ever heard of virgin hair?"

"Yes, I've heard of virgin hair," Shyvana sighed. "Virgin hair is natural hair that hasn't been exposed to dyes or chemicals."

"Whoa, is that true? I thought virgin is someone that doesn't have a baby yet." One boy said, astonished.

"I guess I'm a virgin." Another girl exclaimed. She seemed proud. The young dragon rolled her eyes.

"What do you do all day? Read diction… di… tion…" Amelia's voice trailed off. She raced in the classroom and grabbed a large book in her hand. Shoving it into Shyvana's face, Amelia pointed at the title.

"Dictionary," Shyvana filled her sentence. "They're called dictionaries."

"Yes, dictionary," Amelia said. "What do you do all day? Read diction… uh, these books?"

"Sure," Shyvana was calm, no anger infiltrated her. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the classroom, pausing and stared at Amelia. "Can we continue this tomorrow?" She left the classroom, leaving them dumbfounded and speechless.

"Mom, I'm home." Shyvana cried out as she slammed the door closed. A vivid figure stood before her and smiled.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," The Demacian farm girl greeted as she pulled her daughter in close. "How was your day?"

"The usual," Shyvana clarified. "I always get teased for my hair colour. They think my hair is not virgin."

Shyvana's mother chuckled a weak laugh, grasping her stomach after. "My, my, how intelligent of you to use the word 'virgin' at the age of eight…"

"Amelia said it," Shyvana explained, staring at her mother's weak body. "Even though, she can't even say the word 'dictionary'."

The woman cocked a brow, "Oh? Who's Amelia?"

"This girl in my class," Shyvana started, pausing. She exhaled and resumed, "She's a girl from school-" A mental photo of Amelia formed into her head. "She has white hair and developed curves."

"Developed curves, at the age of eight?" Her mother seemed astonished.

"Who knows? Maybe she got surgery." Shyvana shrugged with her mother hugging her close.

"In the King's name, Shyvana, that's the strangest thing I've heard you said in years."

"Sorry, mom, I'm getting overboard," The young girl sighed as her mother unwrapped Shyvana from the hug. The half-dragon looked at her mother and sighed. "Am I ugly?"

The Demacian farm girl looked in confusion; she grabbed some herbal plants and crushed it. "Well, what makes you say that?" She asked after.

"Everyone at school says I'm ugly, my untameable hair gets in the way of everything! I can't even impress a boy!"

"Shyvana, you're beautiful the way you are! In fact, I bet the young prince of Demacia will just adore you."

"The prince of Demacia," Shyvana's voice trailed off, counting the generations past in the king's heir. "Jarvan the… Fourth?"

"Yes. A rather handsome fellow, if you asked me."

"I'm sorry mom, but I swear, being the princess of Demacia is something that I would not want."

"Why?" Her mother continued looking in a strange way.

"Meeting the prince is one thing. I'm a mere commoner and he's the prince. Even Amelia has a better shot with him than me," Shyvana admitted, sighing. "Though he is rather attractive… Ah, what am I saying?"

"If you ever meet the prince one day, remember to be polite," Shyvana's mother reminded. "The Lightshield family is very picky with people."

"Mom... I don't want to be a princess," Shyvana clarified. "I rather work as a farmer for the rest of my life."

"For the king's sake, Shyvana, I don't know how to deal with you…" The Demacian farm girl exclaimed. "Now, go get your father. Dinner will ready soon."

"Okay." Shyvana huffed and left the house.

"Shyvana, wait."

Shyvana looked back to see her mother's eyes watering. She cocked a confused brow. Her mother raced into a room and handed her a bag filled with unknown items.

"Mom," Shyvana began. "What's this?"

"It is something from me to you."

"Can't I just leave it here?" Shyvana questioned. "I'll be back, I just need to call father over."

"No you cannot," Her mother said, frowning as she wiped her tears away. "You must carry it at all times. Don't let it out of your sight, remember, and be good. Use the skills I've taught you in the future. Grow up big and strong to protect the ones you love. And most importantly, I'll always be there for you, even if I'm not by your side." Tears filled her eyes.

The half-dragon looked at the bag and then to her mother. Clueless, she began talking, "Okay mom. I promise."

"One more thing, Shyvana…"

Shyvana sighed for a brief annoyance. "What is it now, mom?"

"I love you," Her mother said. "Remember, no matter what people say. You'll always be the beautiful little girl in my eyes and that love is always waiting for you somewhere in the world… It'll come, just wait."

"Even if I'm a half-dragon…?" Shyvana asked, she grinned with a goofy smile.

"Yes, even if you're a half-dragon," Her mother giving her the brightest smile she had to offer. "Now run along, time is ticking."

Shyvana smiled and raced in the village.

Present

A young woman, standing at the edge of a nearby river, glaring at her reflection: tangled red hair, emotionless red eyes and inside, a cold heart. Her thick cloud of anger swirled about in her body. Even now, she hates her red hair. In fact, she hates it more than anything in the world. Sometimes, she wishes she could just change into a blonde.

"Stupid childhood," the woman huffed, turning her attention at the Serpentine River. "Now, where is that bastard drake?" She exhaled in annoyance, just wishing for the cruel murderer to appear before her. "When I get my hands on him, he's fucked." She looked at her outfit, worn-out leather armour, given by her father. She looked down with sadness as she wringed her bare hands.

A sudden snap of twigs caught the redhead's attention, glaring behind her; she jumped onto the nearest tree branch and began to climb up the tree. Sitting on the tallest tree branch, she ducked out of sight as a troop of men walked past, laughing and talking about vicious characters of the forest. The sight of humans disgusted the woman; she wrinkled her delicate nose and huffed. She kept out of sight, until one of the men's voices caught her ear.

"Wonder if there are any dragons here?"

Another one with a deeper voice laughed, "Idiot, there aren't any fucking dragons in Runeterra; dragons are stupid creatures that hack out fire and fly with little wings."

"They are such things as a Chronophoenix, Yetis, Yordles, and a sexy lust-crazed half-fox… But there is no such thing as a dragon?"

"Those things are our imagination," Another said. "Possibly all those are fake. The League is pretty crazy if you ask me."

The first one scratched his head, murmuring softly, "I swore I had slept with that fox…"

The girl's eyes twitched in agony, 'Foolish creatures, are you messing with my father?' She thought, curling a devious smile. 'Perhaps, I should… lecture them in a way they won't forget…' Suddenly, she shook her head. 'No, you must concentrate on your life mission. You can't let these… sex-crazed civilians distract you.' She nodded.

"You're right; I can't let these men-"

The tree branch below her snapped; she began to tumbling to the Earth below her. As she was about to meet hell, a strong pair of arms caught and spun her around.

"It's raining chicks," one of the recruits said, laughing. "This one isn't so bad looking, wonder if we can keep her?"

The woman opened her eyes, realizing a man caught her fall and saved her; still, she gave him emotionless looks.

"Are you alright?" Her saviour asked, giving her a warm smile.

The woman left the monotone look on her face and pushed herself from his arms.

"Hey girl," The tallest man said. "Why aren't you saying thank you?"

The redhead gave a cold stern glare at the tall man, and then to the man who saved her.

His armour was filled with beast parts: horns, scales, fangs and other unknown body parts; it gave the redhead a sly frown; a tingling sensation within her body erupted. Instantly, she knew who he was.

"I see," The Half-dragon began. "You're Prince Jarvan Lightshield the Fourth, the Exemplar of Demacia."

Jarvan chuckled. "I can see you know a lot about me… You even know my full title."

"I didn't choose to learn about you," She snapped back, racing her dirty hand down her tangled hair. "During my education as a youth, I had to learn about you. Typical Demacians-" She lowered her voice. "Prince Jarvan this, King Jarvan that. Nothing more…"

"Why aren't you at home with your loved ones?" The prince suddenly asked, raising a brow, gazing at the Half-Dragon's appearance. "This part of the region is crowded with dangerous creatures."

The Half-Dragon looked away and sighed in frustration.

"I never had a home; my loved ones were massacred by my father's kind," She began as a slight emotion of sadness overwhelmed her. She held back her tears and coughed. "However, I do plan to seek for vengeance and kill the murderer." She paused and thought for a moment; she never shared her lifelong goal with anyone. When she does, she shares it with the prince of Demacia. Isn't that interesting?

"Maybe you can describe the murderer out to us? I'm sure we can help you." Jarvan requested.

Without Hesitation, Shyvana hissed, "No, I will not associate myself with a group of men. This always leads to rape."

Jarvan backed off. "Isn't that… too serious? I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need help. I don't want help," The redhead insisted, frowning. "And mostly, I don't want any help from you or anyone associated with Demacia. Demacia was the reason why my parents died-" She paused and turned around. "I'll handle it myself…" She stormed off, enraged.

"Wait."

With another pause the woman turned around at the prince, he doesn't look mad, despite the fact that she insulted the city-state he loved.

She cocked a brow. "What do you want?"

"What's your name?" His voice was filled with care.

She literally choked on her saliva, "I insulted you, your city-state and your men. And you want to know my name? What do you want to do? Drag me into your dungeon and kill me? No, I will not tell you my name."

She left without any hesitation as scales replaced her skin as a vortex of fire spun around in her stomach, giving her the butterfly feel.

"Father, why are we leaving our home?" A fairly beautiful girl questioned as her father took her by the hand, dragging her out of the village she had known.

"We must depart with haste," Her father interrupted, not willing to answer her questions. "Now, Shyvana, promise me that you'll control your temper when I'm not around."

"But Father-"

"Answer me." His voice was sharper than a blade.

The young half-dragon gulped. "Y-Yes father… I'll control my temper…"

She finally did it. She finally found the drake, the drake that had murdered her family and the one who gave her scared nightmares.

The drake was having a nap under the willow tree near the border of Demacia. His green scales made Shyvana unease inside; his eyes of murder were unseen under the eyelids.

I have you now. She thought, curling her lips to form a devious smirk. Adjusting her belt slowly, she grabbed a pouch attached to her waist belt. Inside the pouch lied a powerful poison that she collected by grinding the leaves of a poisoness tree near the outskirts of Demacia. She gave a determinate look and approached the dragon head-on. Luckily, he was asleep so he couldn't see what Shyvana was doing. With every inch closer, her goal became from illusion to reality.

Before Shyvana can make her move, a loud voice interrupted her. "Hey! There's the dragon!"

Shyvana quickly retreated as the murderous drake woke up, annoyed from the loud voice.

Fuck, Shyvana thought. I was so close! She glanced at the direction where the voice came from. She gave another sigh to see who the voice belonged to.

It was a man from Jarvan IV's squad, who merely had an urge to fight, Shyvana thought how unlucky she was today.

"Who dares to interrupt my slumber?" The drake roared, eyeing the men. "Oh, it is you-" He eyed at Jarvan IV and chuckled. "My my, it's the Prince, how delightful to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," The prince answered, gripping onto his lance. "I'll do my best to slay you-" Before he can continue, Shyvana flipped out; rushing into the scene.

"I cannot believe you!" Shyvana raged, quickly tucking the poison back into her waist belt. She approached the prince with reckless actions. "I spent at least seven years tracking this… beast and you come here to take all the crapping credit and now you're here to slay him? That's my job! And-"

The drake cocked an expression, "Oh Shyv-"

"Don't say my name!" Shyvana roared back, continuing her rant to the prince. "And you, you… asshole, do you always take the credit from someone else and make it yours?" She tightened her gauntlets.

"A proper hello would have been nice-"

"Hello my ass," Shyvana interrupted.

"Right," Jarvan coughed. "In any case, we have no idea he was the drake you were looking for-"

"Well he is!" Shyvana interrupted once more. "And I worked hard to find him! Do you know how many years I've been trying to find poison that isn't immune to dragons? Well, I'll tell you, it took five fucking years, yes, five long years!"

"Well miss," the prince began. "If I'm not interrupted anymore-" The half-dragon waved a gesture, letting him talk. "-First, I have no idea of what you're talking about. Second, my men and I have been tracking this drake for two weeks. Third, I find his scales attractive so I must collect it for my armour and fourth, if you want help, I offer my lance."

"His scales are beautiful?" Shyvana assumed that it was a joke. "You should have seen mine, maybe you should reconsider that! His are nothing more than mucky coloured abomination compared to mine!" Her words caused Jarvan to be slightly confused.

Jarvan huffed with confusion, "Your scales… You're not even a-"

"Now please, if you people aren't aware… Plenty of me to go around," The drake joked, clawing the ground in front of him. He turned Shyvana. "And it's been years. How are you, my dear? I can see you've grown into a fine woman."

"Save your breath," Shyvana huffed. "I'll defeat you once and for all right here and right now!"

One of Jarvan's men cackled. "You are barely covered in armour, seriously, I can literally see your breast and you don't even have an army and you're a woman, how can you win?"

Shyvana glared daggers at the man as she covered her chest. "I don't associate myself with people," She began. "And there is more than meets the eye. And you're a fucking pervert."

"Ha!" The drake interrupted. "You can't even morph properly then, just give it up. You cannot become a true dragon!"

"I was never a true dragon," Shyvana snapped back. "And you don't know what I am capable of."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The monster roared out, laughing.

"I'm sure."

"Let's see if you're as alive and furious as your father," The dragon dared, clawing the air in front of him. "Oh right, he's dead."

Winced, Shyvana began to unleash the fire within her, her bones crackled and expanded. Soon, a pair of red wings appeared on her back, she took a leap in the air as the transformation began. She felt the power overwhelming, her fury increasing, the scales covering her pale skin, her body changing and her temperature rising. Soon, she morphed into a 10 feet dragon; she gave a loud roar after.

"Impressive," The drake roared, charging toward Shyvana. "But let's see if you can fight!"

Shyvana blocked his attack with her scaled wings, covering her face. She ducked under and gave a hard scratch upon his belly. The dragon roared in pain as the blood spew out.

"And you said you are a drake!" Shyvana taunted, soaring into the air, getting ready for a counter-attack. The drake narrowed his yellow eyes and began to spew a flamethrower toward Shyvana; she did the same for the counter.

Shyvana regained her breath after she cannot produce any flames. She looked at the troop of men and began talking. "Get out of here before he kills you all!" She warned as she took direct hit from the murderer's claws. Her hardened scales blocking the most of the damage as she stumbled back.

"We can assist you," Jarvan began. "I'm serious about this, I can help you-"

"Don't sweat it, this was my destiny-" Her look mellowed as she reminded herself of her deceased parents. "-And I'm not losing this time." She added, clawing the drake with her hardened claws.

"But you can get yourself killed," the prince continued. "I don't think your parents want that, they died for you!"

Shyvana shot a mean look at Jarvan. "You don't know my life, stay out of it!"

The prince knew the maiden was correct, why was he trying so hard to assist her? Why was he so determinate to aid the young maiden to the right path? He doesn't know her life, he doesn't even know her name- But, something makes him from knowing more.

The Exemplar stood quiet as Shyvana began to spew her flames at the drake. Soon, Shyvana became weak, fatigued from the drake's works. She was huffing steam.

"I have to admit, you've became stronger," The drake began. "However it's a dead end for you… And as a reward, I'll kill you last." He took a glance at the men and readies a fireball. He flung the fireball. Without another word, Shyvana raced toward the fireball and took the shot for the Demacians. Smoke uproar, blocking everyone's view of Shyvana. After the smoke died, they saw Shyvana, back in her human form, lying on the earth, bleeding. He looked at his troop to fight, the men nodded and raced at the dragon while the prince looked at the half-dragon who saved him and his men. He looked at her in admiration as butterflies formed in his stomach. He snapped out of it and put Shyvana down on the hard ground as he treated her wounds. After a while of treating her wounds, he quickly grabbed his lance and went into the battle himself.

After a while of fighting the drake, four men had died and four was injured heavily, they will probably die on their own soon. Shyvana woke up from her dizziness; she soon found that she has been drowsing; she slapped herself mentally, she paused. Wondering why was her wound wrapped and sloppy treated but still… the wound was going to heal anytime soon, she looked at the prince who was fighting, a small flustered form on her face. She quickly snapped out of it and began to unleash the fire in her, no luck. She cursed at herself for having losing a bit too much blood, no blood boiling equals to no morphing. But still, she can fight in her human form; she nodded in agreement and ran into the scene herself.

"I can see you're doing well," Jarvan greeted, his face was dirtied with sweat and blood. "Do not fear, we're making progress, you should sit out. And I was moved by your plight-"

She looked at the men dead, she shook her head. "Since you helped me once, I'll assist you." She answered, adjusting her armour. "But it's a onetime only."

Jarvan nodded. "I understand, now shall we, my lady?"

Shyvana choked out a slow chuckle and charged in. With all his might, Jarvan threw his lance as Shyvana charged a fireball and spew it at the dragon. The lance landed into the flesh of the dragon's stomach, he moaned in pain as the fire splashed onto the lance, turning the lance hotter, burning the flesh surrounding the lance. The drake fell, winced. With one more time of trying to morph, Shyvana successfully turned into a dragon, not because of blood boiling but because of rage, landing on the injured murderer and with one more thrust into his flesh, before she can pulled out the heart, the dragon dug his claws into Shyvana's fleshy stomach. She grunted as she ripped out of the heart, the monster dead before she could react. The men cheering as she held the dragon's heart with glory and success. Shyvana ripped the heart out of the system and beamed. She threw the organ on the blood-stained ground and staggered, her form changing back. She looked weaker than before; she was losing way too much blood. She coughed with specks of blood trailing on the ground. Jarvan raced for her, before she could reach the earth.

"I'm taking you to a hospital," Jarvan said, he looked over his men, who were digging a proper grave for their friends, and nodded. "We're going back to Demacia."

"L-Leave… me h-here," Shyvana gasped, blood spilling, she clutched her stomach. "I can't… go… any f-further." With that blood dripped out of her mouth.

"Shhh," Jarvan calmed as he retrieved his lance from the dragon's stomach. "I'm going to save you, don't you dare die in front of me."

"W-What if I do?" She whispered as she closed her eyes before the prince can reply.

Jarvan looked at her and as he picked up the pace. "Die along with you perhaps."