File type: Word Document(.docx) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
Could not generate preview text for this file type.
-----------------------------------------
Could not generate preview text for this file type.
The recent expansion for Legends of Runeterra got me in the mood for some bird dad.
So here we have a story featuring Azir, Emperor of the Sands from League of Legends happening upon a micro archeologist soon after his ressurection and getting the worship he deserves.
________________________________________________
Dawn of a New Empire
Gazing over the endlessly stretching sand dunes, Azir could not help but feel his heart straining with regret for the lost glory days. He marched alone through what used to be a bustling sunlit city filled with people, destined to prosper under his rule. The ravages of time had reduced this momentous achievement of culture to nothing more than mere rubble, a fading echo of its former self, its people gone, its walls crumbling, the desert sands slowly burying it with each passing day…
But as much as the sight pained him, he knew that was once was lost, could be restored. He could rebuild his empire, he could set things right and bring Shurima into a new golden age, one made everlasting by its immortal ruler, just as he had planned.
As he made his way further in, Azir found a few openings leading inside the underground chambers, deeper into what millennia ago used to be his palace. His staff dug into the sand and he stopped, gazing at the run-down walls that countless servants used to bustle within. The Sun Disk had the power to restore this place to its former glory, and it was his goal- no, duty to bring that to pass and yet… Azir hesitated to move onward, drawn instead to venture deeper into these ruins.
Wind howled past him, waves of sand whistling off of the elevated platforms above him as he made up his mind and headed in. He passed through countless tunnels, seeing familiar rooms abandoned, buried in sand. He took his time with each and every one, reflecting on its past, remembering the people that he would never see again, his people.
“Xerath…” Azir hissed, burning rage welling up within him as he clenched his fists, talons digging into the palms of his hands. It was seething anger, anger at the one who betrayed him and ensured things would end up this way. But before he lost himself to his emotion, he shook his head and continued walking – revenge was meaningless now, Xerath had surely perished along with everyone else, along with his empire. The only thing left now was to make use of the second chance he was given.
Eventually his exploration brought him to the treasury. Countless chambers stood unlocked, torn open and picked apart by looters. The very thought would have disgusted Azir in the old days, but he couldn’t fault people for trying to partake in the wealth of a lost empire – Sivir, his own blood, had done the same after all. And more importantly, he had to let go of the past if he were to bring about Shurima’s future.
He spotted one room that stood apart from the others, instantly recognizing his old vault. Relics of great power gathered from across the land or secured through many a military venture to expand his glorious empire had all been stored here. The magic seal on the door was gone, yet the residual energy still lingered in the air – whoever had managed to force it open, clearly had not done so too long ago.
Brandishing his staff, he confidently walked straight into the vault, ready to face whoever thought it wise to invade his former home. Yet as he stepped inside, he found that very little was actually amiss. Save for the sand seeping in through the cracks in the walls and a few objects out of place, it looked almost exactly as he had left it millennia ago.
One of the relics – an Icathian medallion, capable of distorting physical reality to create portals or rend space itself – had been disturbed, its seal broken. Off to side was an unattended backpack and an open book, fit into a peculiar cover – the material looked to be neither leather nor metal but something else instead, it seemed unnatural somehow, artificial.
Lifting his hand up over a nearby mound of sand, Azir summoned forth a sand soldier, commanding it to lift the book up and bring it to him. Its purpose complete, it faded away as the Shuriman emperor took a closer look at the contents of the book. A hastily drawn map of his palace, diagrams of the vault’s seal, sketches of various artifacts found within, tiny scribbled notes added all over, detailing various points of interest on each and every drawing. While Azir couldn’t comprehend the writing, he could tell that whoever compiled all this information had a certain… scholarly quality to them, a cut above your average hoarder.
Gazing around the scene once more, Azir realized that, whoever this intruder was, failed to account for the curse put on every object in this chamber such that it could only be wielded by an ascended warrior or a member of the royal bloodline. Any fool brazen enough to ignore this caveat would simply have the object backfire on them in some manner; in fact, he remembered suggesting quite a few of these himself: a flaming sword that would set an unworthy wielder arm on fire, a stasis hourglass that would leave them trapped indefinitely…
As his hand grasped the Icathian medallion, Azir wondered what sort of adverse effect such a relic could exert. For all he knew, the foolish intruder could be halfway across the continent right now, freezing on the cold peaks of Mount Targon or perhaps lost in a deep underground cave system beneath the lush jungles in the west. Yet he wouldn’t be left guessing for long as a flash of movement in the corner caught his attention and his eyes settled on the utterly miniscule figure of an outsider, seemingly reduced to the size of an insect by the Icathian relic.
“Ahh…” Azir exhaled knowingly – such an elegant way to turn the relic’s power against an illicit wielder. Without hesitation, yet without rushing either, he made his way towards the tiny figure sprawled out unconscious over the floor. He crouched down, somewhat curious to take a closer look at an intruder foolish enough to invade his sanctum, yet still intelligent enough to bypass the seal. Not quite able to make out the minute details with a cursory look over, Azir gently plucked the speck up from the sand, pinching it between the tips of his talons and flipping it about until it was neatly nestled in the palm of his hand.
It was a pale-skinned young man, a foreigner, dressed oddly and somewhat ill-fittingly for the desert climate. Certainly not a typical raider, but then again, would Azir even know how those were supposed to look these days? It hardly mattered though, what mattered was what he would do with the intruder now. A part of the Shuriman Emperor thought to simply smite the puny creature for daring to trespass upon his ancient treasury – smear the offender out of existence with the tip of his finger and be done with it. Another glance at the journal laid out on the floor nearby though, made Azir reconsider such drastic measures. Perhaps he ought to start this new era with an act of kindness, rather than wrath.
And thus a finger, poised to smear the tiny young man into a tiny red stain, instead moved down to prod at his side. Azir was trying his best to be gentle, careful not to damage the small being with his newfound power; he was still getting use to his ascended body after all.
The giant’s intent was a small comfort for Markus though. The sensation of something huge thrashing at his side as he slowly came to was rather alarming. He snapped awake and backed away from the looming fingertip with a startled gasp. Rolling on his back, he looked up and found himself faced with a terrifying visage of a massive humanoid avian, clad in golden armor. “Am I… dead?” He gasped.
“Rise, peasant!” Azir commanded. “You are in the presence of an Emperor!”
Urged into action by the assertive tone of the titan, Markus hurriedly pushed himself up to his feet, but he couldn’t help but notice that the looming figure did not answer his question. Taking matters into his own hands, Markus looked down at his palms, which were still, in fact, opaque. He then attempted to stick one of them through his abdomen, which failed – thus he was forced to assume that he was still corporeal at least, for now anyway. The entire experience was already quite disorienting, but then the young man simply had to look past the towering fingers around him and recognize the site of the ancient vault he’d managed to break his way into. Only now it was little more than a distant, blurry image of its former self, forcing Markus to come to the only conclusion that made sense – he had shrunk.
“Wait… Emperor?” A terrifying chill ran down the puny human’s spine as he realized the very sudden precariousness of his situation. “Oh gods, is this your treasury? Did I trigger some sort of curse? I’m so sorry! I meant no harm! I just thought this place was–”
“Deserted millennia ago?” Azir interrupted the tiny creature, focusing his piercing azure gaze on it.
“Y-yes!” The human knelt down. “I meant no disrespect! Please believe me, I just–!“
The giant raised the palm of his free hand over the human and shook his head. “Do not fret, all is forgiven.” The looming figure assured with a small nod. “After all, knowledge of my empire must be nothing more than ancient history to you.”
Adjusting his glasses Markus squinted at the massive avian. He had no recollection of any vastayan emperors in Shuriman lore, unless… Ascension? Ascended emperor? “W-wait! You’re… Azir!”
Azir’s visage gleamed with approval at the small human’s words. “Ah, so the stories of my rule has persevered through the ages. Tell me, meddlesome one. What does history say of my great empire?”
Still coming to terms with his reduced stature, Markus felt all the more intimidated by the looming presence of Azir hanging over him. He stammered and hesitated as his mind attempted to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t enrage the hulking mass of bird that currently held the young man’s life in the palm of his hand. “Uhm…” Markus attempted to fill the conversational voice with a nervous laugh. “There are… many viewpoints, sir.”
Azir cocked his head at the rather vapid, or – he supposed – tactful response, one that indicated that scholars of recent ages have perhaps not been particularly fond of the legacy he had left behind. Yet all the same he felt the need to learn more, if he were to raise his empire anew, he needed too. “Speak freely and as broadly as you wish, I assure you that no harm will come to you for sharing your knowledge with me.” He nodded, indicating for the ant-sized would-be grave robber to continue.
Markus took a deep breath, feeling it was better to come clean than to deny a figure who had very nearly become god. “Well…” He trailed off as he sifted through the facts. “Generally your rule is viewed as… controversial. While Emperor Azir has done a lot for his people and his country, the expansionist nature is often view as too aggressive and hostile. The Icathian Uprising is to this day considered to be one of the most horrifying mistakes made by anyone ever and a lot of blame is placed upon your shoulders for causing that.”
Azir frowned at this. The Icathians were fools who unleashed the Void upon themselves and on some of his most prized generals, they pushed his armies back at the cost of their entire kingdom being undone. His instinct was to voice this, but he stopped himself; such conduct would be unbecoming, the tiny intruder was not voicing his own opinion after all.
“Equally though, there are certain people, who admired the sheer military might of your empire, positing that you would have gone on to conquer all of Runeterra, had things played out a little differently. Others still speak of how slaves suffered under your rule and nothing was done about it for the longest time and-“ Markus paused and looked up. “Actually, this is something I’ve always been curious about. Some sources say that your last act before the fall of your empire was to free all slaves right before undergoing the ascension ritual. Though there is hardly any compelling proof aside from rumors and hearsay sited throughout the ages. Were you really going to grant freedom to all slaves? And if so, why is there so little to indicate any sort of-“
Markus cut himself off as Azir’s talons twitching a little finally drew the human’s attention to the fact that the risen emperor was glaring at him. Yet just as the tiny human braced for wrathful retaliation, he found the giant exhaling and giving a somewhat solemn nod.
“Yes, it is a matter that I went to great length to keep concealed as I laid the groundwork for the reforms. All of the noble houses relied heavily on slave labor, direct opposition from any one of them would have spelled doom for my plans. Thus I chose to keep it all hidden until the time was right.”
“Until you underwent the ascension ritual?”
“Yes.”
“So that nobody could go against your word?”
“That is correct.” Azir nodded, pleased that the young man was quick to follow.
“That… Does make a lot of sense.” He admitted as a dozen more questions sprung into his mind, but perhaps those were better saved for later. Something told him that Azir wouldn’t really appreciate in-depth questioning about how everything he worked for came crashing down in an instant. By there was still one glaring issue that he couldn’t let go. “But sir, pardon me but I feel I simply must ask… uhm…” “How are you still alive? It is said you perished that day, so how come you’re here? And now of all times. Wait… The ascension ritual would have made you immortal! But then… Where have you been all this time? And-”
Azir regarded the tiny creature with a patient gaze but eventually interrupted his spiel with a single talon placed over the miniscule creature’s face as he shook his head. “All in due time, young one. There will be ample opportunity for us to discuss such matters. For now I wish to survey what’s left of my palace.” The former emperor’s commanding tone softened as his gaze fell upon just a little as he headed out of the vault and deeper into the palace. “And besides, I believe you are yet to introduce yourself.”
“Oh!” Markus gasped. “I’m Markus, sir. Markus Veller! And uhm… it is… it is an honor to be in your presence!” The human bowed down, prostrating himself a little bit more enthusiastically than the average person would, his face hitting the fine silk, stretched over Azir’s palm. It was at that moment that Markus finally came to realize just how in awe of the bigger man he was. Sitting like that, trapped in the palm of an emperor, who had just practically walked right off the pages of a history book, cowering in the shadow of his fingers as he traversed what would be miles with each and every step…
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Markus Veller. Your knowledge has been... most illuminating thus far.” The looming avian said as his gaze settled on the young man’s journal, now neatly tucked onto the belt of his golden attire. “I hope you continue to prove yourself useful.”
Markus gulped, was this why he wasn’t killed on the spot for desecrating the emperor’s treasury like that? The fact that Markus was still alive, still spoke volumes about what sort of person Azir was though. In fact, not only did he spare Markus’ life, but he also actively chose to assist him. Or at least it seemed that way, Markus wasn’t actually sure where they were headed, but it certainly beat attempting to traverse the desert on his own at this size. “Uhm… Actually, about that.” Markus spoke up. “Is there any chance you could… Err…”
“Bring you back to normal? Perhaps.” Azir interrupted as he headed down the hall with his new prisoner in hand. “But for now I prefer to keep you the way you are.”
“R-right.” Markus couldn’t really argue, he did just barge into the man’s home after all.
---
Soon Azir found himself back in his throne room once more, or rather what remained of it – it wasn’t a pretty sight. All the exuberant decorations have been stolen or simply withered away with the passage of time, and what stone structures still remained had cracks and fractures etched all over the once smooth surfaces.
As the two of them traversed the ruins, Markus chose to remain silent. Whatever was going through Azir’s head at that moment was not his to intrude upon. And so the young man simply regarded the giant with a curious stare from below, eyes fixated on the underside on giant’s hawk’s chin as he briefly pondered what a body like that must have felt like to a formerly human being.
Azir made his way around the vestiges of his past life, seemingly having forgotten all about the tiny spectator in the palm of his hand. His body language slowed down while he lingered here and there as a memory would surface in his mind.
Markus couldn’t help but be a little bit mesmerized, not only in awe of Azir’s relative scale and regal features but also curious at how introspective the former emperor seemed. It wasn’t as though the tiny human had met many monarchs face-to-face before, but this was someone he’d read about in history books, someone whose choices steered the fates of entire nations and yet here they were, displaying such down-to-earth, genuine emotion.
After some time, Azir’s hawk-like figure finally settled, finding rest in his old, dust-covered throne, looming over the rest of the room as well as the tiny intruder still in his palm.
It was then that Markus finally decided to speak up. “Are you… alright, sir?”
The question snapped Azir out of his daze. It’s been far too long since he’d heard someone ask such a question. His role as ruler left most of his interpersonal relations largely lacking. Hearing genuine concern for him in someone’s voice was somewhat jarring, and it was a tiny grave-robber of all people! Caught off guard, Azir hesitated for the briefest of moments and then nodded. “Yes.” He said. “Yes I’m fine, little one. I am simply reflecting on the past, on the life that was stripped away from me.”
Markus did not know the full story of course, but driven by a genuine – If somewhat misguided – sense of sympathy, he continued. “I can’t imagine what it must feel like returning to your home after all this time… Seeing it like this.” He sighed and looked up. “Is there anything I can do to help, sir?”
If the previous inquiry left the hawk emperor somewhat surprised, this one was outright baffling. Hefting the tiny being in his hand, Azir easily forced Markus on his back, sprawled out over the silky fabric and immediately pinned under one of the giant’s fingertips. “What can you do in such a state?” The thought of this pitiful man genuinely offering his assistance to him of all people was as laughable as it was endearing.
“I… Dunno.” Markus shrugged. “I suppose I could…” The human’s voice trailed off as he threw a glance underneath him, as if attempting to peer past the hand he was stuck on and down towards the floor, where Azir’s feet surely rested. “…worship your feet? To help take your mind off things?” As soon as the words left his mouth, the human winced, he could really stand to be a little more subtle.
The sheer absurdity of such a situation, one he had never once encountered in all his life finally drew a loud, resounding laugh from the emperor. He knew that the foreigner was likely making this offer in jest, but Azir decided to play along regardless. “You know, it has been millennia since I’ve felt the tender touch of an eager servant upon my feet. Perhaps it is time we rectified that, given your generous offer?” He cocked his head at Markus once more, waiting for the human to back down.
“I… I actually would be happy to, sir. You’ve spared my life so… This is probably the least I could do to repay that debt.”
In truth, Azir hardly saw it that way; he could just as easily choose to end the young man’s life in a few minutes’ time, he’d made no promises after all. But who was he to decline an eager servant’s offer? With a pleased nod he lowered Markus down towards the ground, gently tilting his palm and sliding the small man down to the stone floor, right in front of his feet.
Markus would have just enough time to look up at the emperor’s regal, magnificent form stretching miles above him, when an idle shift of the four birdly toes before him drew the little man’s attention. Each of them was surrounded with shiny gold plating that clacked almost playfully against the ground and caused minor tremors to cascade through the ground beneath Markus’ feet.
The young man found himself staring into Azir’s brilliant blue eyes as they met his own, and a single nod from the looming monarch assured his tiny servant that it was, in fact, okay for him to come closer. And so the human did, moving forth and laying a hand on the surprisingly cool metal that comprised the armor plating around Azir’s talons. He froze for a moment as his current situation finally began to sink in. Just this morning he’d woken up with the intent on uncovering some of Shurima’s ancient history and here he was at the foot at one of the greatest rulers to have ever walked Runeterra.
“Hmm…” The emperor’s voice echoed from above, interrupting Markus’ train of thought. “I suppose I should make this a little bit easier for you.” With a swift motion Azir, leaned forward, undoing some very cleverly hidden clasps on his ‘boots’ and detaching a part of them that covered his talons, revealing two pairs of immaculate, bird-like toes. “Are you excited?” Azir asked, seemingly growing quite pleased with the situation. “You will be the first in millennia to be granted the prestigious honor of laying your hands upon the emperor’s feet, the first being ever to do so to my ascended form.” He boasted as he flexed his toes and slid them closer towards the tiny man, encompassing his whole form between them.
“Y-yes, sir.” Markus nodded and took his first step even closer; massive walls of Azir’s toes stretched on either side of him as he walked towards the toe crotch and laid a hand in the spot right between the two digits. He took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent of the sand-touched feet of an ancient emperor. “F-frankly I hardly imagined, I’d ever get to meet someone like you in person, let alone… do something like this. Gods above, this honestly is a dream come true for me.”
Azir raised a brow at that. He’d assumed the foreigner simply wished to show his respect but it seemed as though tribute was not the only thing on his mind. “Oh is it? You could show your gratitude by making haste in your efforts then.” Azir said, his tone suddenly cold and domineering, seemingly growing impatient with his servant.
“R-right!” Markus exclaimed once more, shuddering and throwing himself into his task full-force, much to Azir’s amusement.
The titanic monarch chuckled as he leaned back in his seat. Feeling well-deserved worship flowing from the speck on the ground, Azir was fairly certain Markus was deriving some sort of pleasure from this as well. He’d seen people like that in the past, they made for excellent servants, eagerly lowering themselves to bowing down before the lowliest, dirtiest part of his body. The current process was hardly as practical of course – an ant-sized creature worshiping him was certainly not an effective use of Azir’s time – but somehow the emperor found it pleasing, amusing that even in this new day and age there were those who willingly bowed down before him; despite his many shortcomings, despite the fall of his empire, despite his terrifyingly long absence from the world…
Meanwhile down below Markus’ hands slid up and down along the toes, picking out stone-sized grains of sand that stubbornly clung to the emperor’s toes and tossing them aside as he gradually made his way along the length of Azir’s resting toes. “Sir?” He called out, looking up to see if the emperor would spare him a glance.
The emperor did not. Instead he remained seated just the way he was, his eyes closed for the moment as he responded with a simple “Speak.”
“I was… wondering if you’d allow me to use my tongue?”
A hint of a smirk crossed the hawk’s features as he extended a single hand forth and gave an approving nod. “You may, small one, if you wish. Allow your worship to flow free.” It seemed he was right about this man after all.
Feeling a chill run down his spine, Markus leaned in and felt his heart skip a beat at what he was about to do. With bated breath he stuck out his tongue and slowly, hesitantly pushed his face against the wall of flesh before him. Immediately he registered a somewhat salty taste spreading around his mouth as the realization of what exactly he was doing finally began to sink in. Allowing himself a moan, he slipped down to his knees, inadvertently bowing down before the godlike figure of Azir. He lapped away at the massive digits, feeling them shift around him and seeing the large spherical beads of sweat lazily rolling down along the curves. Reaching out, Markus would grasp one such bead, marveling at the perfect shape it maintained in his hands all by itself; the surface tension holding this delicate but stable form together even now. He brought it closer to his face, taking a whiff and moaning as he pressed his lips into it and simply sipped the entire thing right up into his mouth.
“Thank you, o gracious emperor of Ancient Shurima for bestowing such a great gift upon me. Thank you.” Markus mouthed as he got back to work, spending the next hour, polishing, massaging and licking Azir’s toes clean to the best of his current ability, peeling away dust and sand, drinking or soaking up the occasional lone droplet of sweat, rubbing away at the intensely thick, leathery skin…
As time went on though, Azir finally grew a little bored of the well-earned tribute that he was receiving. He may not have gotten such treatment in a great many years, but there was only so much time he could afford to waste on frivolous distractions – there was work to do. With an approving hum he moved his feet forth, scooping tiny Markus up right between them; feeling this tiny living being, caught between his toes, squeezing at it, gently and tenderly compressing his little worshipper’s form. “You have managed to please me, Markus Veller. Well done.” Azir praised the micro’s efforts before parting his digits and allowing him to fall to the floor between them once more.
“Thank you for your kind words, your majesty. It was a pleasure to service you!”
“I am certain it was. You seem… extraordinarily attuned to such tasks.”
“I have…” Markus gulped, of course Azir would realize this, he hadn’t exactly been subtle about his fetish. “Long since daydreamed of being in the exact kind of position I am before you right now, sir. I simply… wouldn’t dare imagine that it would be you that I would find myself in front of.”
“And yet here you are. A proud scholar with all the makings of a lowly slave.” Azir’s tone was laced with an odd sort fondness as he spoke. “Are you still curious, if you will have your height restored?”
“U-uhm…” His polite façade slipped a little as Markus found himself stammering over his own words once more. “I mean… Yes? Yes! I can’t stay like this forever after all and… I hardly imagine you would have the time to spare to lo-“
“Let it be known that your request for the restoration of your true scale is hereby denied.” Azir proclaimed, a massive hand swooping down from the sky and grasping Markus by the collar of his odd attire again.
“Wh-wha? But why?!”
With the micro once again in front of his piercing blue eyes, Azir focused on him completely. “Markus Veller, your incursion into the sanctity of my treasury is a serious offense. Your knowledge on how to unlock it could prove dangerous in the wrong hands. However, despite your insolent meddling and in light of your eager service, you are hereby forgiven and immediately inducted into the ranks of my personal servants. Consider this a privilege.” Azir left the echo of his words hang in the air for a bit as he waited out just enough time for Markus to voice any protests he might have had.
“But I-“ Markus spoke up after a moment only for the titan to immediately interrupt him again.
“Come now, was it not you who just confessed to dreaming of a life of servitude? Moreover, you will be granted certain freedoms and privileges as a citizen of Shurima. I promise you enough time to settle things back in your land of origin, should you need it, but for now… You may consider yourself detained as the one who broke into my personal vault and tampered with artifacts not meant for mortal hands.”
There was a pause as Markus stared slack-jawed at the massive armored figure before him, pinching himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
“You will be taking care of my feet from now on, Markus. A personal servant known only to myself until the time is right.” He smirked, lowering the human down towards his belt, waving his other hand and weaving some of the scattered sand nearby into a tiny cup, which he attached to his belt and lowered his new servant into.
“Although…” Azir paused. “Should you truly wish for another fate, should you want to take your things and leave never to return, I could dispel this curse and set you free. Does your heart yearn for that? Or shall you follow me as emperor and become a part of the glorious future we are building?”
Markus had just managed to collect himself when the question hit him. He could go back, he could leave this place right now and do his best to forget he had ever come here but… He knew that this moment with Azir as well as the promise of this new life had changed something in him. He couldn’t turn his back on his fate now and so he steeled his resolve and spoke. “I would gladly follow you, your majesty. Should you find a use for my skills, I will gladly lend all that I am to your cause.”
“Good!” Azir exclaimed, standing up and clacking his staff against the stone floor as the sandstone blocks around him shifted and suddenly came to life. Sand weaved through the air, sealing up the cracks in the walls and etching beautiful decorative patterns into the ancient stone, as the whole palace shook and began slowly lifting itself up from the desert sands. As light of the Sun beamed in through the newly reconstructed windows, Markus was left in awe at the power Azir had so casually commanded.
“Shurima welcomes you, Markus!” The emperor exclaimed, proudly holding his charge up to the sunlight reflected off the Sun Disk, buried in the distant sands. “I welcome you.”
So here we have a story featuring Azir, Emperor of the Sands from League of Legends happening upon a micro archeologist soon after his ressurection and getting the worship he deserves.
________________________________________________
Dawn of a New Empire
Gazing over the endlessly stretching sand dunes, Azir could not help but feel his heart straining with regret for the lost glory days. He marched alone through what used to be a bustling sunlit city filled with people, destined to prosper under his rule. The ravages of time had reduced this momentous achievement of culture to nothing more than mere rubble, a fading echo of its former self, its people gone, its walls crumbling, the desert sands slowly burying it with each passing day…
But as much as the sight pained him, he knew that was once was lost, could be restored. He could rebuild his empire, he could set things right and bring Shurima into a new golden age, one made everlasting by its immortal ruler, just as he had planned.
As he made his way further in, Azir found a few openings leading inside the underground chambers, deeper into what millennia ago used to be his palace. His staff dug into the sand and he stopped, gazing at the run-down walls that countless servants used to bustle within. The Sun Disk had the power to restore this place to its former glory, and it was his goal- no, duty to bring that to pass and yet… Azir hesitated to move onward, drawn instead to venture deeper into these ruins.
Wind howled past him, waves of sand whistling off of the elevated platforms above him as he made up his mind and headed in. He passed through countless tunnels, seeing familiar rooms abandoned, buried in sand. He took his time with each and every one, reflecting on its past, remembering the people that he would never see again, his people.
“Xerath…” Azir hissed, burning rage welling up within him as he clenched his fists, talons digging into the palms of his hands. It was seething anger, anger at the one who betrayed him and ensured things would end up this way. But before he lost himself to his emotion, he shook his head and continued walking – revenge was meaningless now, Xerath had surely perished along with everyone else, along with his empire. The only thing left now was to make use of the second chance he was given.
Eventually his exploration brought him to the treasury. Countless chambers stood unlocked, torn open and picked apart by looters. The very thought would have disgusted Azir in the old days, but he couldn’t fault people for trying to partake in the wealth of a lost empire – Sivir, his own blood, had done the same after all. And more importantly, he had to let go of the past if he were to bring about Shurima’s future.
He spotted one room that stood apart from the others, instantly recognizing his old vault. Relics of great power gathered from across the land or secured through many a military venture to expand his glorious empire had all been stored here. The magic seal on the door was gone, yet the residual energy still lingered in the air – whoever had managed to force it open, clearly had not done so too long ago.
Brandishing his staff, he confidently walked straight into the vault, ready to face whoever thought it wise to invade his former home. Yet as he stepped inside, he found that very little was actually amiss. Save for the sand seeping in through the cracks in the walls and a few objects out of place, it looked almost exactly as he had left it millennia ago.
One of the relics – an Icathian medallion, capable of distorting physical reality to create portals or rend space itself – had been disturbed, its seal broken. Off to side was an unattended backpack and an open book, fit into a peculiar cover – the material looked to be neither leather nor metal but something else instead, it seemed unnatural somehow, artificial.
Lifting his hand up over a nearby mound of sand, Azir summoned forth a sand soldier, commanding it to lift the book up and bring it to him. Its purpose complete, it faded away as the Shuriman emperor took a closer look at the contents of the book. A hastily drawn map of his palace, diagrams of the vault’s seal, sketches of various artifacts found within, tiny scribbled notes added all over, detailing various points of interest on each and every drawing. While Azir couldn’t comprehend the writing, he could tell that whoever compiled all this information had a certain… scholarly quality to them, a cut above your average hoarder.
Gazing around the scene once more, Azir realized that, whoever this intruder was, failed to account for the curse put on every object in this chamber such that it could only be wielded by an ascended warrior or a member of the royal bloodline. Any fool brazen enough to ignore this caveat would simply have the object backfire on them in some manner; in fact, he remembered suggesting quite a few of these himself: a flaming sword that would set an unworthy wielder arm on fire, a stasis hourglass that would leave them trapped indefinitely…
As his hand grasped the Icathian medallion, Azir wondered what sort of adverse effect such a relic could exert. For all he knew, the foolish intruder could be halfway across the continent right now, freezing on the cold peaks of Mount Targon or perhaps lost in a deep underground cave system beneath the lush jungles in the west. Yet he wouldn’t be left guessing for long as a flash of movement in the corner caught his attention and his eyes settled on the utterly miniscule figure of an outsider, seemingly reduced to the size of an insect by the Icathian relic.
“Ahh…” Azir exhaled knowingly – such an elegant way to turn the relic’s power against an illicit wielder. Without hesitation, yet without rushing either, he made his way towards the tiny figure sprawled out unconscious over the floor. He crouched down, somewhat curious to take a closer look at an intruder foolish enough to invade his sanctum, yet still intelligent enough to bypass the seal. Not quite able to make out the minute details with a cursory look over, Azir gently plucked the speck up from the sand, pinching it between the tips of his talons and flipping it about until it was neatly nestled in the palm of his hand.
It was a pale-skinned young man, a foreigner, dressed oddly and somewhat ill-fittingly for the desert climate. Certainly not a typical raider, but then again, would Azir even know how those were supposed to look these days? It hardly mattered though, what mattered was what he would do with the intruder now. A part of the Shuriman Emperor thought to simply smite the puny creature for daring to trespass upon his ancient treasury – smear the offender out of existence with the tip of his finger and be done with it. Another glance at the journal laid out on the floor nearby though, made Azir reconsider such drastic measures. Perhaps he ought to start this new era with an act of kindness, rather than wrath.
And thus a finger, poised to smear the tiny young man into a tiny red stain, instead moved down to prod at his side. Azir was trying his best to be gentle, careful not to damage the small being with his newfound power; he was still getting use to his ascended body after all.
The giant’s intent was a small comfort for Markus though. The sensation of something huge thrashing at his side as he slowly came to was rather alarming. He snapped awake and backed away from the looming fingertip with a startled gasp. Rolling on his back, he looked up and found himself faced with a terrifying visage of a massive humanoid avian, clad in golden armor. “Am I… dead?” He gasped.
“Rise, peasant!” Azir commanded. “You are in the presence of an Emperor!”
Urged into action by the assertive tone of the titan, Markus hurriedly pushed himself up to his feet, but he couldn’t help but notice that the looming figure did not answer his question. Taking matters into his own hands, Markus looked down at his palms, which were still, in fact, opaque. He then attempted to stick one of them through his abdomen, which failed – thus he was forced to assume that he was still corporeal at least, for now anyway. The entire experience was already quite disorienting, but then the young man simply had to look past the towering fingers around him and recognize the site of the ancient vault he’d managed to break his way into. Only now it was little more than a distant, blurry image of its former self, forcing Markus to come to the only conclusion that made sense – he had shrunk.
“Wait… Emperor?” A terrifying chill ran down the puny human’s spine as he realized the very sudden precariousness of his situation. “Oh gods, is this your treasury? Did I trigger some sort of curse? I’m so sorry! I meant no harm! I just thought this place was–”
“Deserted millennia ago?” Azir interrupted the tiny creature, focusing his piercing azure gaze on it.
“Y-yes!” The human knelt down. “I meant no disrespect! Please believe me, I just–!“
The giant raised the palm of his free hand over the human and shook his head. “Do not fret, all is forgiven.” The looming figure assured with a small nod. “After all, knowledge of my empire must be nothing more than ancient history to you.”
Adjusting his glasses Markus squinted at the massive avian. He had no recollection of any vastayan emperors in Shuriman lore, unless… Ascension? Ascended emperor? “W-wait! You’re… Azir!”
Azir’s visage gleamed with approval at the small human’s words. “Ah, so the stories of my rule has persevered through the ages. Tell me, meddlesome one. What does history say of my great empire?”
Still coming to terms with his reduced stature, Markus felt all the more intimidated by the looming presence of Azir hanging over him. He stammered and hesitated as his mind attempted to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t enrage the hulking mass of bird that currently held the young man’s life in the palm of his hand. “Uhm…” Markus attempted to fill the conversational voice with a nervous laugh. “There are… many viewpoints, sir.”
Azir cocked his head at the rather vapid, or – he supposed – tactful response, one that indicated that scholars of recent ages have perhaps not been particularly fond of the legacy he had left behind. Yet all the same he felt the need to learn more, if he were to raise his empire anew, he needed too. “Speak freely and as broadly as you wish, I assure you that no harm will come to you for sharing your knowledge with me.” He nodded, indicating for the ant-sized would-be grave robber to continue.
Markus took a deep breath, feeling it was better to come clean than to deny a figure who had very nearly become god. “Well…” He trailed off as he sifted through the facts. “Generally your rule is viewed as… controversial. While Emperor Azir has done a lot for his people and his country, the expansionist nature is often view as too aggressive and hostile. The Icathian Uprising is to this day considered to be one of the most horrifying mistakes made by anyone ever and a lot of blame is placed upon your shoulders for causing that.”
Azir frowned at this. The Icathians were fools who unleashed the Void upon themselves and on some of his most prized generals, they pushed his armies back at the cost of their entire kingdom being undone. His instinct was to voice this, but he stopped himself; such conduct would be unbecoming, the tiny intruder was not voicing his own opinion after all.
“Equally though, there are certain people, who admired the sheer military might of your empire, positing that you would have gone on to conquer all of Runeterra, had things played out a little differently. Others still speak of how slaves suffered under your rule and nothing was done about it for the longest time and-“ Markus paused and looked up. “Actually, this is something I’ve always been curious about. Some sources say that your last act before the fall of your empire was to free all slaves right before undergoing the ascension ritual. Though there is hardly any compelling proof aside from rumors and hearsay sited throughout the ages. Were you really going to grant freedom to all slaves? And if so, why is there so little to indicate any sort of-“
Markus cut himself off as Azir’s talons twitching a little finally drew the human’s attention to the fact that the risen emperor was glaring at him. Yet just as the tiny human braced for wrathful retaliation, he found the giant exhaling and giving a somewhat solemn nod.
“Yes, it is a matter that I went to great length to keep concealed as I laid the groundwork for the reforms. All of the noble houses relied heavily on slave labor, direct opposition from any one of them would have spelled doom for my plans. Thus I chose to keep it all hidden until the time was right.”
“Until you underwent the ascension ritual?”
“Yes.”
“So that nobody could go against your word?”
“That is correct.” Azir nodded, pleased that the young man was quick to follow.
“That… Does make a lot of sense.” He admitted as a dozen more questions sprung into his mind, but perhaps those were better saved for later. Something told him that Azir wouldn’t really appreciate in-depth questioning about how everything he worked for came crashing down in an instant. By there was still one glaring issue that he couldn’t let go. “But sir, pardon me but I feel I simply must ask… uhm…” “How are you still alive? It is said you perished that day, so how come you’re here? And now of all times. Wait… The ascension ritual would have made you immortal! But then… Where have you been all this time? And-”
Azir regarded the tiny creature with a patient gaze but eventually interrupted his spiel with a single talon placed over the miniscule creature’s face as he shook his head. “All in due time, young one. There will be ample opportunity for us to discuss such matters. For now I wish to survey what’s left of my palace.” The former emperor’s commanding tone softened as his gaze fell upon just a little as he headed out of the vault and deeper into the palace. “And besides, I believe you are yet to introduce yourself.”
“Oh!” Markus gasped. “I’m Markus, sir. Markus Veller! And uhm… it is… it is an honor to be in your presence!” The human bowed down, prostrating himself a little bit more enthusiastically than the average person would, his face hitting the fine silk, stretched over Azir’s palm. It was at that moment that Markus finally came to realize just how in awe of the bigger man he was. Sitting like that, trapped in the palm of an emperor, who had just practically walked right off the pages of a history book, cowering in the shadow of his fingers as he traversed what would be miles with each and every step…
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Markus Veller. Your knowledge has been... most illuminating thus far.” The looming avian said as his gaze settled on the young man’s journal, now neatly tucked onto the belt of his golden attire. “I hope you continue to prove yourself useful.”
Markus gulped, was this why he wasn’t killed on the spot for desecrating the emperor’s treasury like that? The fact that Markus was still alive, still spoke volumes about what sort of person Azir was though. In fact, not only did he spare Markus’ life, but he also actively chose to assist him. Or at least it seemed that way, Markus wasn’t actually sure where they were headed, but it certainly beat attempting to traverse the desert on his own at this size. “Uhm… Actually, about that.” Markus spoke up. “Is there any chance you could… Err…”
“Bring you back to normal? Perhaps.” Azir interrupted as he headed down the hall with his new prisoner in hand. “But for now I prefer to keep you the way you are.”
“R-right.” Markus couldn’t really argue, he did just barge into the man’s home after all.
---
Soon Azir found himself back in his throne room once more, or rather what remained of it – it wasn’t a pretty sight. All the exuberant decorations have been stolen or simply withered away with the passage of time, and what stone structures still remained had cracks and fractures etched all over the once smooth surfaces.
As the two of them traversed the ruins, Markus chose to remain silent. Whatever was going through Azir’s head at that moment was not his to intrude upon. And so the young man simply regarded the giant with a curious stare from below, eyes fixated on the underside on giant’s hawk’s chin as he briefly pondered what a body like that must have felt like to a formerly human being.
Azir made his way around the vestiges of his past life, seemingly having forgotten all about the tiny spectator in the palm of his hand. His body language slowed down while he lingered here and there as a memory would surface in his mind.
Markus couldn’t help but be a little bit mesmerized, not only in awe of Azir’s relative scale and regal features but also curious at how introspective the former emperor seemed. It wasn’t as though the tiny human had met many monarchs face-to-face before, but this was someone he’d read about in history books, someone whose choices steered the fates of entire nations and yet here they were, displaying such down-to-earth, genuine emotion.
After some time, Azir’s hawk-like figure finally settled, finding rest in his old, dust-covered throne, looming over the rest of the room as well as the tiny intruder still in his palm.
It was then that Markus finally decided to speak up. “Are you… alright, sir?”
The question snapped Azir out of his daze. It’s been far too long since he’d heard someone ask such a question. His role as ruler left most of his interpersonal relations largely lacking. Hearing genuine concern for him in someone’s voice was somewhat jarring, and it was a tiny grave-robber of all people! Caught off guard, Azir hesitated for the briefest of moments and then nodded. “Yes.” He said. “Yes I’m fine, little one. I am simply reflecting on the past, on the life that was stripped away from me.”
Markus did not know the full story of course, but driven by a genuine – If somewhat misguided – sense of sympathy, he continued. “I can’t imagine what it must feel like returning to your home after all this time… Seeing it like this.” He sighed and looked up. “Is there anything I can do to help, sir?”
If the previous inquiry left the hawk emperor somewhat surprised, this one was outright baffling. Hefting the tiny being in his hand, Azir easily forced Markus on his back, sprawled out over the silky fabric and immediately pinned under one of the giant’s fingertips. “What can you do in such a state?” The thought of this pitiful man genuinely offering his assistance to him of all people was as laughable as it was endearing.
“I… Dunno.” Markus shrugged. “I suppose I could…” The human’s voice trailed off as he threw a glance underneath him, as if attempting to peer past the hand he was stuck on and down towards the floor, where Azir’s feet surely rested. “…worship your feet? To help take your mind off things?” As soon as the words left his mouth, the human winced, he could really stand to be a little more subtle.
The sheer absurdity of such a situation, one he had never once encountered in all his life finally drew a loud, resounding laugh from the emperor. He knew that the foreigner was likely making this offer in jest, but Azir decided to play along regardless. “You know, it has been millennia since I’ve felt the tender touch of an eager servant upon my feet. Perhaps it is time we rectified that, given your generous offer?” He cocked his head at Markus once more, waiting for the human to back down.
“I… I actually would be happy to, sir. You’ve spared my life so… This is probably the least I could do to repay that debt.”
In truth, Azir hardly saw it that way; he could just as easily choose to end the young man’s life in a few minutes’ time, he’d made no promises after all. But who was he to decline an eager servant’s offer? With a pleased nod he lowered Markus down towards the ground, gently tilting his palm and sliding the small man down to the stone floor, right in front of his feet.
Markus would have just enough time to look up at the emperor’s regal, magnificent form stretching miles above him, when an idle shift of the four birdly toes before him drew the little man’s attention. Each of them was surrounded with shiny gold plating that clacked almost playfully against the ground and caused minor tremors to cascade through the ground beneath Markus’ feet.
The young man found himself staring into Azir’s brilliant blue eyes as they met his own, and a single nod from the looming monarch assured his tiny servant that it was, in fact, okay for him to come closer. And so the human did, moving forth and laying a hand on the surprisingly cool metal that comprised the armor plating around Azir’s talons. He froze for a moment as his current situation finally began to sink in. Just this morning he’d woken up with the intent on uncovering some of Shurima’s ancient history and here he was at the foot at one of the greatest rulers to have ever walked Runeterra.
“Hmm…” The emperor’s voice echoed from above, interrupting Markus’ train of thought. “I suppose I should make this a little bit easier for you.” With a swift motion Azir, leaned forward, undoing some very cleverly hidden clasps on his ‘boots’ and detaching a part of them that covered his talons, revealing two pairs of immaculate, bird-like toes. “Are you excited?” Azir asked, seemingly growing quite pleased with the situation. “You will be the first in millennia to be granted the prestigious honor of laying your hands upon the emperor’s feet, the first being ever to do so to my ascended form.” He boasted as he flexed his toes and slid them closer towards the tiny man, encompassing his whole form between them.
“Y-yes, sir.” Markus nodded and took his first step even closer; massive walls of Azir’s toes stretched on either side of him as he walked towards the toe crotch and laid a hand in the spot right between the two digits. He took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent of the sand-touched feet of an ancient emperor. “F-frankly I hardly imagined, I’d ever get to meet someone like you in person, let alone… do something like this. Gods above, this honestly is a dream come true for me.”
Azir raised a brow at that. He’d assumed the foreigner simply wished to show his respect but it seemed as though tribute was not the only thing on his mind. “Oh is it? You could show your gratitude by making haste in your efforts then.” Azir said, his tone suddenly cold and domineering, seemingly growing impatient with his servant.
“R-right!” Markus exclaimed once more, shuddering and throwing himself into his task full-force, much to Azir’s amusement.
The titanic monarch chuckled as he leaned back in his seat. Feeling well-deserved worship flowing from the speck on the ground, Azir was fairly certain Markus was deriving some sort of pleasure from this as well. He’d seen people like that in the past, they made for excellent servants, eagerly lowering themselves to bowing down before the lowliest, dirtiest part of his body. The current process was hardly as practical of course – an ant-sized creature worshiping him was certainly not an effective use of Azir’s time – but somehow the emperor found it pleasing, amusing that even in this new day and age there were those who willingly bowed down before him; despite his many shortcomings, despite the fall of his empire, despite his terrifyingly long absence from the world…
Meanwhile down below Markus’ hands slid up and down along the toes, picking out stone-sized grains of sand that stubbornly clung to the emperor’s toes and tossing them aside as he gradually made his way along the length of Azir’s resting toes. “Sir?” He called out, looking up to see if the emperor would spare him a glance.
The emperor did not. Instead he remained seated just the way he was, his eyes closed for the moment as he responded with a simple “Speak.”
“I was… wondering if you’d allow me to use my tongue?”
A hint of a smirk crossed the hawk’s features as he extended a single hand forth and gave an approving nod. “You may, small one, if you wish. Allow your worship to flow free.” It seemed he was right about this man after all.
Feeling a chill run down his spine, Markus leaned in and felt his heart skip a beat at what he was about to do. With bated breath he stuck out his tongue and slowly, hesitantly pushed his face against the wall of flesh before him. Immediately he registered a somewhat salty taste spreading around his mouth as the realization of what exactly he was doing finally began to sink in. Allowing himself a moan, he slipped down to his knees, inadvertently bowing down before the godlike figure of Azir. He lapped away at the massive digits, feeling them shift around him and seeing the large spherical beads of sweat lazily rolling down along the curves. Reaching out, Markus would grasp one such bead, marveling at the perfect shape it maintained in his hands all by itself; the surface tension holding this delicate but stable form together even now. He brought it closer to his face, taking a whiff and moaning as he pressed his lips into it and simply sipped the entire thing right up into his mouth.
“Thank you, o gracious emperor of Ancient Shurima for bestowing such a great gift upon me. Thank you.” Markus mouthed as he got back to work, spending the next hour, polishing, massaging and licking Azir’s toes clean to the best of his current ability, peeling away dust and sand, drinking or soaking up the occasional lone droplet of sweat, rubbing away at the intensely thick, leathery skin…
As time went on though, Azir finally grew a little bored of the well-earned tribute that he was receiving. He may not have gotten such treatment in a great many years, but there was only so much time he could afford to waste on frivolous distractions – there was work to do. With an approving hum he moved his feet forth, scooping tiny Markus up right between them; feeling this tiny living being, caught between his toes, squeezing at it, gently and tenderly compressing his little worshipper’s form. “You have managed to please me, Markus Veller. Well done.” Azir praised the micro’s efforts before parting his digits and allowing him to fall to the floor between them once more.
“Thank you for your kind words, your majesty. It was a pleasure to service you!”
“I am certain it was. You seem… extraordinarily attuned to such tasks.”
“I have…” Markus gulped, of course Azir would realize this, he hadn’t exactly been subtle about his fetish. “Long since daydreamed of being in the exact kind of position I am before you right now, sir. I simply… wouldn’t dare imagine that it would be you that I would find myself in front of.”
“And yet here you are. A proud scholar with all the makings of a lowly slave.” Azir’s tone was laced with an odd sort fondness as he spoke. “Are you still curious, if you will have your height restored?”
“U-uhm…” His polite façade slipped a little as Markus found himself stammering over his own words once more. “I mean… Yes? Yes! I can’t stay like this forever after all and… I hardly imagine you would have the time to spare to lo-“
“Let it be known that your request for the restoration of your true scale is hereby denied.” Azir proclaimed, a massive hand swooping down from the sky and grasping Markus by the collar of his odd attire again.
“Wh-wha? But why?!”
With the micro once again in front of his piercing blue eyes, Azir focused on him completely. “Markus Veller, your incursion into the sanctity of my treasury is a serious offense. Your knowledge on how to unlock it could prove dangerous in the wrong hands. However, despite your insolent meddling and in light of your eager service, you are hereby forgiven and immediately inducted into the ranks of my personal servants. Consider this a privilege.” Azir left the echo of his words hang in the air for a bit as he waited out just enough time for Markus to voice any protests he might have had.
“But I-“ Markus spoke up after a moment only for the titan to immediately interrupt him again.
“Come now, was it not you who just confessed to dreaming of a life of servitude? Moreover, you will be granted certain freedoms and privileges as a citizen of Shurima. I promise you enough time to settle things back in your land of origin, should you need it, but for now… You may consider yourself detained as the one who broke into my personal vault and tampered with artifacts not meant for mortal hands.”
There was a pause as Markus stared slack-jawed at the massive armored figure before him, pinching himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
“You will be taking care of my feet from now on, Markus. A personal servant known only to myself until the time is right.” He smirked, lowering the human down towards his belt, waving his other hand and weaving some of the scattered sand nearby into a tiny cup, which he attached to his belt and lowered his new servant into.
“Although…” Azir paused. “Should you truly wish for another fate, should you want to take your things and leave never to return, I could dispel this curse and set you free. Does your heart yearn for that? Or shall you follow me as emperor and become a part of the glorious future we are building?”
Markus had just managed to collect himself when the question hit him. He could go back, he could leave this place right now and do his best to forget he had ever come here but… He knew that this moment with Azir as well as the promise of this new life had changed something in him. He couldn’t turn his back on his fate now and so he steeled his resolve and spoke. “I would gladly follow you, your majesty. Should you find a use for my skills, I will gladly lend all that I am to your cause.”
“Good!” Azir exclaimed, standing up and clacking his staff against the stone floor as the sandstone blocks around him shifted and suddenly came to life. Sand weaved through the air, sealing up the cracks in the walls and etching beautiful decorative patterns into the ancient stone, as the whole palace shook and began slowly lifting itself up from the desert sands. As light of the Sun beamed in through the newly reconstructed windows, Markus was left in awe at the power Azir had so casually commanded.
“Shurima welcomes you, Markus!” The emperor exclaimed, proudly holding his charge up to the sunlight reflected off the Sun Disk, buried in the distant sands. “I welcome you.”
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Hawk
Gender Male
Size 120 x 120px
I've half the mind to feed you to him, you heathen!
I personally dont care one bit about LoL but Azir has always been my fave char from it. And yeah seeing him get some attention... especially in the macro/micro and talon focused section is gud shit.
Fancy story you wrote there.
Fancy story you wrote there.
Many thanks! I do enjoy league myself every now and again but it's aaaalways been about the characters and The Lore™ for me. Love me some bird dad action.
Marvelous story, so fine to read about Azir, really loved the backstory and details about the empire and his return. A scholar turning into a needy servant I can really appreciate that concept x3
Good work and thank you for writing a story about Azir and his mighty talons, great to see more of this guy =3
Good work and thank you for writing a story about Azir and his mighty talons, great to see more of this guy =3
Hehe... Figures I'd write an Azir story and make it 2/3rds lore and sand angst. But thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm glad people are enjoying it~
hehehe, good story bro, it made me want to see how azir rebuilds his empire conquering the world and Markus serves him ;)
That was generally the plan!
Oh Azir, you incorrigible, self-important bird boye~
Oh Azir, you incorrigible, self-important bird boye~
Comments