Authors Note:A quick note for the context of the story; the plot is loosely based around the old lore between Pantheon and Leona. Not a very long time ago, Riot changed and revised some champion lores. Personally, I found the new lore for Panth and Leo to be too specific to draw up your own concepts, so we're sticking to the originals. Enjoy.

Vulnerability is the essence of romance. It's the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, 'This is me, and I'm interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more important, all that I am not.'

-Ashton Kutcher

…

High upon the mountains, there is a place known as Mount Targon. Here, the young children of each generation are embroiled in the art of war, learning the ancient traditions and customs from a very early age. For the tribes of the Rakkor, war and combat is what give meaning to their life.

And on this particular hazy morning, a clang of metal rang out across the tall jagged peaks of Mount Targon. A young man with short brown hair and a warrior with dazzlingly orange locks sparred among the rocks of the makeshift arena on the upper slopes of the fabled mountain. Though these two were of the same age, it was clear that the young man's sparring abilities were slightly more developed and more agile than the girl's. Nonetheless, the two fought with equal intensity, swords clashing against shields and bodies rolled on the dirt to avoid the jagged end of a spear.

Their blades crashed, the intense dance of combat between the two warriors seemed endless. They matched each other, blow for blow, and each one unwilling to yield to the other.

But suddenly, the boy maneuvered quickly through a strike from his opponent, ducking under the swing as he brought his own weapon down upon her neck. He had moved so quickly that the young woman was thrown off balance, her strikes, relentless only a moment ago, now utterly defenseless. Left with little time to react, she could do nothing as she watched the gleam of the steel rapidly approach her vital point.

But just as quickly as it had begun its strike, the sharp blade ceased abruptly to move any further, simply resting upon the nape of her neck. For a moment, no one spoke. They stood still, temporarily frozen in that moment.

He glanced at her, a rare hint of a faint smile playing across his face, a short phrase uttered in the silence. "It looks like I win. You have no escape."

But the young woman only shook her head in response. "I don't think so Pantheon. Look here." She shifted her position to reveal a dagger clutched in her hand, poised to strike into his chest cavity. It rested just as close to his heart as his blade rested upon her jugular. If it had been a fight on the battlefield, there was little doubt that the exchange would have been a mutual death. Leona grinned, "Not as smooth of a victory as you thought."

"Perhaps that may be so. But you have always underestimated your own strength Leona," Pantheon responded as he removed his sword, offering a hand to Leona. "If only you applied the same ferocity to sparring all other members in the Rakkor, you would easily ascend to a high position among ourselves. But your kindness too often limits you."

Leona frowned at the remark, opening her mouth to respond. But Pantheon could see the conflict and confusion in her eyes, and waved her response away with a flick of his hand. There was no need for them to delve into such an argument now. It would only delay the objective they had set out to complete. And now, the date of their trial approached with a rapid speed.

For innumerable suns, they had been preparing for the Rite of Kor together, for when they had to fight one of their peers to the death for the right to bear the ancient weapons held in possession among the Rakkor. Nearly all members of the Rakkor spent a large portion of their lives devoted to the sacred art of war, training unceasingly every day. But as only the best of the young Rakkorians were selected to participate, the Rite of Kor and its prizes were seen to be a great honor among the many warriors. Unsurprisingly, both Pantheon and Leona had been chosen to fight, their combat abilities far differentiating them from their peers. Though each and every member of the Rakkor was certainly bred for the heat and thrill of the battle, they far exceeded the capacity of even the standard Rakkorian warrior.

Pantheon and Leona were both slated to become great warriors among the Rakkor in their futures and none doubted that they would be invaluable assets to the tribe. But although their skillset was very similar and companionship very close, their mentality could not be more different. Whereas Pantheon was nearly indifferent on hunting and cutting down those who threatened his tribe's wellbeing or even simply for a challenge, Leona was the polar opposite. Though she had been proven to be a very deadly fighter, her unwillingness to fight her peers among the tribe often led her to be scolded, especially among the Rakkorian elders. Leona, rather than pursue the heat of the battle, preferred to defend those around her and protect.

Pantheon strapped his sword to his hip as he pulled Leona from up from the dirt.

"Let's head back to the camp." Pantheon said quietly as he glanced at the darkening horizon, "It's already getting quite dark and we already have had a decent amount of training. The Rite of Kor is rapidly approaching and it will not do us any good to over train ourselves."

Leona, pulling herself up, nodded in agreement. She dusted off the dirt and grime that had covered her during their sparring. Sparring with one of the greatest warriors in a tribe dedicated to the very essence of combat wasn't exactly what one could call easy.

"Fair enough. Let's head back then."

They walked back to the large Rakkor camp that lay nearby, the gravel crunching under their boots. As they neared, Pantheon cast a unusual sideways glance at Leona, which she noticed immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked cautiously. Pantheon halted and turned to face her, staring into those amber eyes. Though they had a trace of caution in them, they were filled with something often short in demand among many members tribe; kindness. Rare and beautiful, yet Pantheon knew that very same nature would likely cause her own death. Her own conviction and strength could very soon seal her fate. She was a person of her values, always stubbornly abiding by them, but regardless... He had to attempt to warn her against her own stubbornness.

Pantheon stopped, staring at the horizon, the setting sun bathing the sky in glowing colors. Nervously gripping the gnarled leather on his sword, he turned to face the young woman beside him. Although it was difficult to say for sure, Pantheon felt a sensation in his gut that this was a crucial moment in the crossroads of Leona's future. Though he already knew the likely answer, he spoke.

"Leona," he began, "I know you value protecting your peers rather than to destroy. It is a something that has helped you to create your many friendships among our people. But for the Rite of Kor Leona, there is no place for kindness in combat. No matter how forgiving you are to any of your opponents, they will not hesitate to strike you down. It's time for you to fight to your fullest."

Leona grimaced, her normally beautiful features contorting, "Pantheon…. You already how I feel about this. I will not harm the other combatant. We'll make it a draw and it can be a victory for both of us. Nobody from our tribe has to die like all of the others. Just because it's always been the tradition does not mean it cannot change for us."

Pantheon shook his head sadly, "Leona, the elders will not allow that to happen. There has always been only one victor in the Rite and that's the way it has always been. There is no other choice. You can't be too kind; at least not now. For the sake of the many you will save in the future, you must strike this one down for the present." Pantheon lowered his voice, "Besides, though many others have scolded you before, seeing you die after so much would be quite cruel for many of us."

Though she initially frowned at the implications he made, Leona nodded slowly in a reluctant agreement. He had a point. Leona had her own aspirations and she wasn't going to be able to achieve them if she was dead. And it was quite true that the Rakkorian elders were very inflexible towards the path of tradition. They always upheld the rules of the Rite, no matter the skill or prominence of a warrior, their tradition must be maintained.

It also wasn't the first time Leona had been lectured on this topic. The Rakkor elders and even her own parents had constantly warned her as well. It had become one of her ailing flaws in an otherwise lethal arsenal of a warrior, but she had always been able to cope with it. Rather than crumble to the adversity that had attempted to cut down her values, it had only solidified her conviction, furthering her own beliefs rather than conform to those around her.

Yet Pantheon wasn't exactly the type of person to warm up to anyone or give them advice. Though he was very well respected for being an early prodigy of the art of war, he could nearly be categorized as a loner among his peers; with the exception of her. If he did not train with Leona, then he would hone his skills alone among the rocks of Mount Targon. No other member in the Rakkor had anywhere close to a relationship as Leona did with him. Although Pantheon certainly addressed his fellow Rakkor, he had always distanced himself, never forming deeper bonds with any of them. All in all, it was exceedingly rare for Pantheon to openly show a concern for others, even for Leona…and well, it certainly caught her attention. Though she was conflicted, she knew it was purely out of concern that Pantheon would break his image of stoniness.

"I… I guess I understand Pantheon. I will do what I have to do when the time comes."

Pantheon nodded in satisfaction. Though he hadn't exactly gotten a promise from her, she was at least undertaking to the reason he had placed before her. This was as likely as far as he could get with her ideology so set in stone. It was no easy feat for even himself to mount her mountain of conviction. It would be better for him to stop here than to push her too far; at least for the time being.

"Very well." He bumped her lightly with his shield. "Let's get back."

She bumped him back slightly, reciprocating his actions. Walking side by side, weapons and shields in hand, the two resumed their walk along their dirt path in silence once more. Moving through the fading rays of aged sunlight, the two figures trudged towards the camp in the distance.

You must survive Leona.

…

Notes:

The Rakkor spend most of their time training for war, and not a whole lot of time for education, so we can assume that their speech probably isn'tsuperintelligent, but fairly coherent. Leona's speech is probably better than Panth's as he's not exactly too strong in the interpersonal category.

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Until next time.

-Geng