Author Notes and Disclaimer:

Don't mind me I'm just writing because I want to. It's been a long while since I've written in story format due to my film/script writing tendencies over the years which requires English simple enough for 3rd graders to read and is predominantly dialogue driven. Forgive me if you find some grammatical errors. Another thing to note, due to the pace of how scripts are written, I will try extremely hard not to rush along too fast.

Constructive criticism is always welcome no matter what. Time is a self invested currency and how one chooses to use it determines their success in life. It would honor me if one invested the time they can never have back to help usher me back into proper story writing habits.

A suggestion: For those of you who are not familiarized with the mental Illness Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (More commonly known as PTSD) I would recommend reading a quick health article about its symptoms, treatments and causes. Understanding that a little more will help you as a reader relate to and connect a bit better with the characters and their situations. A good route would be to google "combat stress PTSD" and go to the website called Combat Stress. I believe the goodle listing will say "Myth Busters l Combat Stress." This isn't required, it is only a suggestion. PTSD is quit interesting if people are bored and want to learn a little.

Disclaimer (Because I feel guilty if I don't post one): All characters, spells, locations and titles are direct property of Riot Games. I am a humble fan and wish to write stories. No income will be made from this entry.

With that out of the way, I, Wander1ng Dreamer, present to you...

A Shattered Mind

Chapter 1: Perpetua

The air was thick and stained a putrid emerald as the unyielding silence hung heavy over the desecrated valley floor. The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of labored breathing as a figure hastily marched through the never ending sickly haze. The once solid ground made a horrendous squelch with every exhausting step the female soldier took. The woman's pace began to slow as she struggled to pull her military grade boots from the grasping earth. She finally came to a complete stop. A cloud of hot breath escaped her lungs into the cold air as she exhaled deeply and bent over to rest her hands upon her knees. The receding silence quickly returned as she stood quietly within the green mist. Only traces of her once platinum hair could be distinguished through the caked layer of blood, sweat and mud.

Her head perked up as the sound of a heavy foot step sunk deep into the ground behind her. The female soldier quickly attempted to move to her left. The soft ground gave way from her sudden movement as she slipped into the mud. She scrambled desperately to the left just enough as a massive black weapon slammed down deep into the earth causing mud to splash all over the grounded soldier. Her eyes slowly shifted to the base of the goliathan sword that rest only inches from where she lay. The glow from the emerald runes cut through the haze as the soldier's eyes traced the length of the blade to its master.

The woman mustered enough strength to turn herself onto her back as the sword was dislodged from its makeshift earthen sheath with ease. The muddy soldier looked up at the armored figure wielding the blade; its red eyes almost glowing under the hood that hid its identity. The warrior swung the blade wide causing the mud which dirtied its edge to slide away cleanly. The soldier's eyes locked onto the dark figure as a cloud of hot breath billowed through the armor from under the hood. The dark warrior's voice sounded twisted and monstrous as it spoke.

"Perpetua…"

The goliathan blade hoisted high. The soldier looked up at the blade with a defeated gaze and squeezed her eyes shut as the warrior roared, bringing the weapon downward mercilessly.

With a loud yelp crimson eyes shot open as she jolted up from her position. Her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings as her lungs struggled to find air. The flaming irises finally locked onto a single item that hung from a wrack on the wall not too far from where she sat. Strands of platinum stuck to her face as her quaking body began to relax while her eyes slowly followed the edge of the broken blade.

A single viridian rune etched within the black stone gently throbbed with a faint glow. Riven sat silently examining what remained of the shattered weapon while she mindlessly wiped the thin film of sweat from her brow.

"How long has it been old friend? Since we were both whole?"

The blade seemed to react to the voice of its owner. The single rune gently glowed slightly brighter than before she spoke. To any other people the change in the rune's behavior would have gone unnoticed, but to its master the change was rather lively when it's not being physically held.

A sword mirrors its owner, she thought quietly to herself as she flinched slightly from a stinging sensation in her left forearm. Riven tenderly touched the bandages that wrapped her forearm and hand. With a soft sigh Riven swung her legs over the side of her bed. The fair-haired woman somewhat yawned as she flexed and stretched her tired muscles awake.

Riven finally stood after sitting still for several seconds and walked over to a dresser that stored what little clothing she owned. A mirror was attached to the wall above the waist high dresser and Riven quickly disregarded her reflection like usual by looking down. Her gaze shifted over to the single tarnished shoulder guard that sat atop the dresser. Riven caught her fingertips mindlessly ghosting over the worn symbol etched into the metal plating. She pulled her hand away, snapping back to reality as she felt another slight sting plague her left arm.

Groaning in annoyance, Riven ripped open the top drawer of the dresser and grabbed a roll of fresh bandages and a small tin container. Riven quietly unwrapped the old bandages and sighed looking at the defected and flawed skin that was once hidden beneath them. Though the external injury had long healed leaving behind a scarred mess, the true damage lied within. Despite the residual internal physical damage her arm suffered the more severe injury lay within her mind.

Riven silently opened the tin container which contained a cream-like substance. She dipped her right finger tips into the medication and tenderly rubbed it along the mangled surface of her forearm.

Commander, help me!

"Stop…it…," she growled through grit teeth.

Please! Don't let go!

Riven squeezed her eyes shut as her hand latched down around her injured forearm.

Don't let me die!

Riven's jaw clenched down tighter. Her patience had long disappeared with the voices that plagued and haunted her thoughts when they so pleased. Lately, she grew angry and tyrannical when these memories flashed through her mind, disrupting her most normal of activities. They were beginning to haunt her more frequently than ever before.

RIVEN!

"ENOUGH!" Riven screamed as she punched the mirror causing it shatter instantaneously.

"Riven!?" A voice called out as the door to her room burst open.

"GET OUT!" Riven yelled as an unsuspecting Irelia ducked from the flying water glass that the exiled Noxian Commander had chucked at her with force. The exile dropped to her knees while her hands gripped at her snowy hair and blood ran down her arm from her cut up hand caused from punching the mirror. "Please…get out…" She pleaded softly with the voices echoing through her head.

"Tch...Like a child," Irelia mumbled under her breath as she approached the trembling Noxian. Despite Irelia growing frustrated with Riven's little outbursts, she could not scold the exile for her behavior. The Ionian captain of the guard understood that Riven's mind was as broken as the weapon she never left her room without. Irelia's blades quivered slightly in defiance and caution as the obsidian haired woman knelt down near the shaking platinum haired ex-soldier. "You're making a mess and getting blood in your hair," Irelia sighed as she gently took hold of Riven's iron grip.

Riven flinched from the sudden contact and tried to move away only to have her shoulder's grabbed in Irelia's stone hard grip. The Will of the Blades forced Riven to stand and had her sit down on the edge of her bed. Riven could have easily resisted the onyx haired woman but chose not to through guilty reasoning. Riven did, however, turn her head away defiantly as Irelia's piercing emerald gaze tried to bore into her own.

"Riven look at me," Irelia said with a stern tone.

The exile didn't comply out of sheer stubbornness. Irelia's eyes narrowed at this childish notion and tried to grab Riven's chin with her hand.

"Look… Riven…Riven!" The exile kept trying to move her head away from Irelia's grasp. "LOOK AT ME, DAMN YOU!" Irelia finally managed to grab the lower half of the squirming Noxian's face in a fierce, yet gentle, grasp forcing her head straight.

Riven's eyes locked onto the quivering blades that hovered just inches away from her. She knew that weapon didn't like being around her because of what she had used to be, but Riven felt no threat from the blades because they would never defy their owner's will. Riven did not like to be touched and Irelia knew this, but in a situation such as this one, it was out of good intension to keep it under control.

"Look at me," Irelia's voice was soft. "It's over; there is no war. You're at the institute, not in Ionia. You're safe; you and I are the only ones in this room." Irelia frowned slightly seeing the dark rings under the exile's eyes revealing how exhausted Riven really was. Nightmares have been keeping you awake again haven't they…the Ionian thought.

The Exile finally gave in as her blazing irises focused on the adjacent pair of soft green eyes. Riven's panic stricken breathing began to calm as she focused on Irelia's gaze.

Irelia sighed in relief as she felt the exile begin to relax, signifying that this ordeal was over and no violence was to ensue. The Captain of the guard delicately released her grip on Riven and looked at the exile's injured hand which had bloodied up the right side of Riven's face and hair.

"You know I don't like to be touched, Irelia."

Same old Riven…Irelia thought while she stood up to grab supplies so Riven could clean herself up. "I am aware, but you chose to throw a glass cup at me; you brought it upon yourself Riven. You needed to calm down and I've noticed that using a little force goes a long way with you and your little problem. Besides, we don't need a repeat of the first time, do we?" she bluntly replied.

"Back when you hated me…"

Irelia paused quietly for a moment as the words sunk in. "I never hated you Riven," she responded. "If I did, I wouldn't be here right now to keep you from hurting yourself, which I slightly failed to do this time."

Riven scoffed.

"Stop trying to act like this isn't serious Riven. I understand that you aren't used to having people around that care about you but you need to realize that these little mental breakdowns are starting to become more frequent and a problem. What do you think will happen if you have one in a sanctified League match? You need to find a way to balance yourself and gain some self-control before something bad happens."

Riven glared at Irelia as the Ionian approached her with bandages. "Typical Ionian ranting about 'Balance in all things'," the exile growled slightly.

"Typical Noxian being hot-headed and stubborn," Irelia countered the slight verbal jab while trying to maintain patience with the obviously irritated exile. Irelia knew Riven wasn't always this way and she understood that she wasn't the source of Noxian's frustrations. It wasn't easy living with the traumatic stress the once Noxian Commander lived with. The exile was usually much wiser, calmer and possessed incredible discipline. In fact, Irelia was impressed by how long Riven had been able to conceal and suppress her broken mental state from everyone, including the summoners, who had direct access to the very minds of the champions within the league. "You're much stronger than you think…" Irelia said. "Even if you're starting to lose the battle with yourself…" she whispered soft enough that it wasn't audible to Riven.

Riven quietly looked at the marred skin of her left forearm as she thought over the words that her friend had just said; to speak of strength to a Noxian was a compliment of highest regards. She felt a slight twinge of guilt pull at her mind because of her behavior. "I'm…sorry," Riven confessed, "I didn't mean to be rude or out of line. I have been feeling…out of sorts lately." Riven looked at Irelia, who stood in front of her with bandages and a wet cloth to clean up the blood from her face and freshly wounded hand.

"No need to apologize, you've done enough of that to last two lifetimes," Irelia commented as she handed Riven the wet cloth while the exile began to clean her wound and wipe off her face. Riven's comment about feeling 'out of sorts' somewhat bothered Irelia. "Did you finish applying the medicine for your arm?"

"No, I didn't," Riven replied as she felt another sting. As frustrated as Riven was with her arm always needing to be rubbed down with medication to make it feel numb everyday she's rather grateful that she only deals with that and post-traumatic stress over losing her life. Although, some days she's caught herself wishing it all ended that day.

"Well, be sure to finish that and your range of motion exercises to determine if you're losing any more movement in that arm," Irelia said as she walked back over to the dresser to retrieve the medicated cream that Riven had left there before her little episode.

"Yes Mother," Riven replied rather miffed.

The Ionian set the medicine tin down on Riven's leg and crossed her arms with an annoyed look on her face. Irelia then smirked slightly and walked back over to the dresser.

Riven raised an eye-brow due to the silence of Irelia and shook her head slightly to disregard her friend who had walked back to her dresser randomly.

"Hey Riven."

The platinum haired warrior looked up from her activity of wrapping her arm when suddenly she felt a quick swipe of a cold and wet substance streak across her left cheek.

"Mother knows best," Irelia chuckled trying to lighten the mood. She wiped the remaining pale war paint from her thumb she used to cover the scar on Riven's cheek like the exile always wore to hide it.

"Hmph…"

Won't you ever smile Riven…?