Hi all! This is a new side project that got away from me. Like the summary said, it'll be a bunch of AU ficlets, probably not more than fifteen hundred words at the most each, maybe two thousand. I have no idea what I'll write next, but I have vague ideas about something featuring Riven and Katarina, and maybe something involving Sivir, Nasus, and Ezreal.

This first fic was actually an application for a writing blog; even though it wasn't accepted I'm happy enough with it to post. I'd talk a bit about it, but that'll give away what surprise it has, so read on!

You don't know how it's gotten to this.

"The accused will step forward."

The guard at your side yanks the chains encircling your wrists, and you're forced to do as he wants. The architects of your humiliation, those self-appointed leaders, stare down upon you from a hastily-erected podium. Their wings puff out behind them, accentuating their presence, while yours are bound behind your back with more chains. They stand and look down on you, their gazes burning with smug triumph.

All except one. She stands tall, taller than any of her peers, and yet she won't meet your eyes.

Good. At least she realizes what she's done.

"The accused will kneel!" Your chief tormentor shouts. Eremen, you remember dimly, except that he doesn't call himself that anymore. He's taken on a new title, one that rings with irony and mocks him every moment he wears it. You wonder if he notices that, and that small bit of humor brings a grim smirk to your lips.

You don't kneel.

His sapphire eyes fill with fury and he nods to someone behind you. A booted foot kicks out your knee and you hit the ground with a thud that's as painful as it sounds. There's not even a possibility of fighting back; your legs are shackled together just like your arms, and so as the guards' fists hit you you feel every blow. One smashes into your head hard enough that stars fill your vision.

"Enough! Please, brothers!"

Of course. It would be her. She's on her feet now, indignation blazing in her gaze. Even through the ringing of your head that sounds like hammers at the forge, you hear the thumps of booted feet as your assailants withdraw.

"Just end this, Metatron. She is no threat any longer; there is no reason to torment her." Her beautiful voice addresses Eremen, a melody that used to be so pleasant for you to hear, echoes through the chamber. No doubt everyone is spellbound; they love her so much. Just like you once did.

"You heard her," you spit out through bloodied teeth, "get on with it."

Eremen smiles smugly and spreads his arms. His wings lift with them, ascending in twin columns of white.

"The criminal stands accused of numerous crimes: swaying the people's ears with propaganda, ruthlessly suppressing any with the courage to speak out, and the murder of countless brave revolutionaries in her quest to crush all who oppose her. She has laid waste to our world in the name of order, strangling freedom until one close to her," here he nods to the traitor at his side, who bows her head in acknowledgement, "had the will to assist her downfall. In light of these grave charges, we the Tribunal, in our infinite wisdom, have chosen to pass judgment upon her, so that we may swiftly resolve matters and return our focus to the rebuilding of our war-ravaged world."

He's as long-winded as ever, but he's getting to the point. You wait, blood dripping down your face, and you're not disappointed.

"Kayle, scion of Dumah and Raphaela, self-styled Judicator and mass murderer. For your crimes against Eden, we sentence you to exile. Know that your bloodstained hands merit death, but that your sister pleaded for lenience. The Tribunal is merciful."

A mage nearby murmurs a few words, and a tear appears in the center of the chamber. You recognize it: a portal to another world. The guards manhandle you towards it.

Soft steps halt in front of you and you look up, vision blurring. She kneels down, taking your head in her hands.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way." Her words are spoken from the heart.

"I should have dashed your brains out on the hospice floor." So are yours.

She flinches with pain. "Your rule was tearing the world apart! I had a duty to save it! You taught me that!"

"I trusted you! All this time you sat at my table, ate my bread, and plotted with these bastards!" Your voice rises, and you're aware of the guards tensing, hands on swords.

A tear drips from the corner of her eye, but this time she doesn't flinch. Instead she drops a kiss on your forehead and stands away, nodding to the guards.

"I love you, sister." And with that she turns her back.

The guards heft your body and raise you, but all you can see are Morgana's wings as she strides away. A feather drops from one, and you follow it with your eyes as you're dragged away; it falls and falls and falls…

And then you are falling too.