Morgana's eyes hardened in a cold glare. Her usual calmness and rationale did not hold in Kayle's presence. Anger stirred within Morgana by just looking at her, even if Kayle had not done anything to offend her. Yet. "Kayle" she spoke her name with distaste, as if speaking her name would conjure some misfortune. "I did not think you'd ever ask me for anything again. Much less something as mortal and mundane as sweets" she mocked.

Morgana believed that her sister had absolved herself of all human desires to try to become 'divine' and 'perfect' as Mihira's little puppet. The thought fueled her growing anger, but she stifled it. She should remain cordial until Kayle inevitably did something to break their peace. As she always had. She did not want to feed the belief that she was the unhinged one.

"It saddens me that you have sacrificed yourself for your sense of perfection. Perfection does not exists, and neither of us shall ever find it. I doubt Mihira will either" she said. Morgana could go on a tangent for hours with all the thoughts she had gathered from over the centuries, but she should really stop it here.

"I remember what you were like once, before you became...this." her eyes saddened slightly at that recollection. "I will make something for that girl. Maybe it will remind you of a couple of things."

"First I will make a honey cakes, like the ones father made when we were children. The sponge will contain cinnamon and walnuts, and then it will be soaked with a honey-lemon syrup". Morgana's father had once been a warrior, but amidst all his responsibilities in Demacia to help build and contribute to the community, he still made sure to spend time with his daughters. Unlike Mihira. She still remembered the honey cakes he made with the few resources he managed to gather. Anything to cheer up his daughters.

"I still remember how you liked fruits" she said. She remembered Kayle's fondness for them, and the joy upon her face whenever they shared fruits like peaches. "I'll roast some peaches with honey, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I'll top the peaches with yogurt. I don't think I've ever had yogurt as good as the ones that were made from Ibik milk back in Targon... goat milk based yogurt is the closest I have." Morgana folded her arms over her chest. The anger in her eyes had faded. There was a time when she once followed Kayle around faithfully. They were once inseparable... until this curse of Divinity ruined it all. Her father would be distraught if he could only see them now. @firerevealstruth

I can see Kayle simply smiting a lot of my muses (rip) including Talon, as persuading as it is I don't think the threat of death is going to convince them to change their lifestyle completely. plus the crimes.

speaking of being defeated by Kayle, Aaatrox would love (hate) a rematch. oh, where is your sister this time? :)

I think if either Aphelios or Nami met Kayle, they would ask for help in their current predicaments of different world-ending issues, although the former may be hesitant to have another opinion on the 'justice' dealt out in his battles.

"Good day. Are you Ferenir, the Smith?"

@firerevealstruth

It was late in the day when the little bell at the door notified the blacksmith of a new customer's approach. The horned man let the iron cool down as he walked to the front of the smithy to greet them, finding standing in front of him a surprisingly gorgeous woman with blonde hair.

"Good evening to you. I am Ferenir indeed.", he confirmed her words with a nod, offering a smile as he leaned on his arms, his palms against the wood of the counter.

She was extremely beautiful, even weirdly so one would say, but also seemed hardened. A warrior of some sort..? Her gaze spoke of countless pain, one he had become familiar with. The dragonblood's slitted eyes focused a little more on her face. Her expression was recognizable, but as he realized suddenly, for more reasons than one.

"Ah, we met on a boat once, didn't we?", he cheerfully announced as the memory became clear. His smile widened.

[[I am sorry for the mixup but tumblr didn't switch to the right blog that I selected in the askbox and I thought this was sent for Oleander...]]

Face twists in a snarl, words growled, not spoken. "Oh, how easy for YOU to say. You were born for greatness, and peace, all that holy crap that people actually value."

A fiery spit on the ground, soon followed by the scent of burnt grass. The thought was infuriating, a divine being on her high horse – with the audacity to tell him that all would be well if he'd only not believe in the curse he was allegedly born into.

"You wouldn't bark this high and mighty, if people actually despised what you are."

Send me hc + a word of your choosing and I’ll write a headcanon relating to that word!

Ferenir has basic education, as the village has a small school with a kind teacher who taught the kids the importants of language, math, history and simple science, all the way till Ferenir was fourteen years old.

Send me hc + a word of your choosing and I’ll write a headcanon relating to that word!

Ferenir is very, very familiar with failure. Ever since he had to leave his home and start wandering, it's been one failure after the other.

Unable to protect people he cares about, losing people important to him and ruining connections, facing roadblocks both as a warrior and as a blacksmith, it has been nothing but constant hardships and constantly disappointing himself.

It was so heavy, that it did keep him very depressed for a long time. He did bounce off every time though, even if it took him longer some of them, and managed to get on his feet.

He accepted he is very young and green in this entire world he was thrown in so abruptly, and accepted he will fuck up, make mistakes and lose many things.

But what's important is what he does after, how much he can protect, how much he can make up for his failures to others.

I kept staring at the tools that i had left at my feet. The forge was quiet, so eerily quiet. Not even Woofers was here, to break the silence, to bring me back into the present.

No, that wouldn't be fair to say. What i wanted was him to distract me from the present. From the very reality i had to face on daily basis, from the very truth i kept running from.

I was alone. I was all alone.

Basically exiled from my home, with hunters constantly after me...My last attempt to find a group had been a complete disaster, and i have broken the heart of the only person that had cared for me in so long...

I had no purpose, no goal. I was simply surviving every day, making it to the next, with stress, fear and unending loneliness...

I missed mom, i missed Lissandra and Anika and the rest...

I always put on a cheerful face, focused on my work, on the small satisfaction i could find, be in food, company or time with Woofers. And by the gods, he was the only reason i was still sane.

But the reality remained, so heavy in this moment, that i was completely stuck in my life. Although i kept wandering and traveling, it felt like i was bouncing off the walls of a very small box instead.

For it was not by choice, but by necessity. I had no choice, if i wanted to live.