Arcane: Red Sands

----- The present, Shurima--------

The streets of Bel'zhun buzzed with the uneasy rhythm of a city under Noxian rule. Markets bustled with activity, vendors hawking wares to disinterested soldiers and nervous locals. The sun hung heavy in the sky, its heat bearing down like a curse upon the sandstone buildings.

Sergeant Titus marched with his squad through the marketplace, his spear resting on his shoulder. The Noxian patrol moved with the usual air of authority, their red-and-black tabards marking them as enforcers of the empire's will.

Thelassan, ever the talker, broke the silence. "You think we'll ever leave this place, Sergeant?"

"This city feels like it's ready, to explode." Muttered corporal Victus, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"Keep your focus, soldiers," Titus replied, his voice sharp but not unkind. "The only way you're leaving is if you survive."

Thelassan smirked faintly. "That's comforting."

Titus ignored the comment, his attention drawn to the sound of raised voices up ahead. A small crowd had gathered near a vendor's stall, the tension in the air unmistakable.

"Let's see what's going on," Titus said, motioning for his men to follow.

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As the soldiers approached, the crowd parted, revealing a lone figure standing before a vendor's stall.

The man was tall and lean, his frame draped in a long, tattered cloak that seemed to carry the desert itself in its folds. His face was partially obscured by the hood of his cloak, but enough was visible to give Titus pause.

His skin was a sickly shade of blue, almost purple, and stretched taut over high cheekbones. Lines of exhaustion etched his features, and his eyes—sharp, piercing, and filled with quiet pain—seemed to radiate a kind of unnatural intensity.

The vendor stood frozen in terror, clutching a basket of dates. "I—I don't know what you're talking about! Please, just go!"

"I'm not here to harm you," the man said, his voice low and rough, as if each word were dragged from the depths of his soul. "I need supplies for my journey. There was a man here once—His name was Tarek. He sold provisions for desert travelers. Where is he?"

The vendor continued trembling, clutching his Basket. "I—I don't know anyone by that name!" he stammered. "Please, just take what you need and leave!"

Titus stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the stranger. "Is there a problem here?"

The man turned slowly to face him, and as he moved, the edge of his cloak shifted, revealing a strange gauntlet strapped to his forearm. The device was intricate, pulsing faintly with an inner light that seemed to ripple with power.

Titus's gaze snapped to the man's face, and the moment their eyes met, his stomach dropped. Those eyes, sharp and unrelenting, bore into him with a familiarity that made his skin crawl.

For a brief moment, Titus was no longer in Bel'zhun. He was back in the ruins of that cursed temple, the air thick with blood and the screams of his dying comrades. The creatures from the void swarmed in his mind, their glowing eyes and gnashing teeth etched into his soul.

Behind him, Thelassan noticed his sergeant's sudden stillness. "Sergeant? What's wrong?"

The stranger tilted his head, his gaze flicking between Titus and Thelassan. He seemed to recognize the fear in the sergeant's eyes, and his posture shifted, softening slightly. "You've seen it, haven't you?" he asked softly.

Titus blinked, his grip tightening on his sword. "Seen what?"

"The void," the man said, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of pain. "It lingers in your eyes. You carry its scars."

"I am not your enemy," the man said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of exhaustion. "My name is Kas'sai a Dyn. I am only passing through this city, searching for supplies."

Titus swallowed hard, forcing himself to recover. "Kas'sai a Dyn," he repeated slowly. "What kind of supplies are you looking for?"

"Food and Water. Enough to cross the desert," Kassadin replied. "My Journey leads south, beyond the great Sai."

Titus frowned. "South?"

"To Icathia," Kassadin said simply.

Thelassan's eyes widened. "Icathia?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "No sane man steps foot there, Those lands are cursed."

Kassadin's expression didn't change. "I know."

"Then why go?" Titus asked, his voice edged with suspicion.

Kassadin was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. "Because this is my Vow."

Titus felt a chill run down his spine. He thought of the creatures in the temple, their unrelenting hunger, their alien forms.

"What is it you're looking for?" Titus pressed.

Kassadin shook his head. "That is none of your concern, My path is mine Alone."

The crowd had mostly dispersed, their fear of the stranger keeping them from lingering. Titus's men stood ready, their hands resting on their weapons, but Kassadin made no threatening moves.

Titus studied him carefully, his eyes flicking to the gauntlet once more. "You're walking into a deathtrap," he said finally. "Those lands… no one comes back from them."

Kassadin turned to face him fully, his eyes meeting Titus's with a quiet intensity. "There are things worse than death, Noxian."

Titus hesitated, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. He could feel the weight of Kassadin's presence, the quiet resolve in his voice.

Finally, Kassadin inclined his head. "Thank you for your concern. But as I said my path is my own."

He turned and began to walk away, his cloak billowing slightly in the desert wind.

Titus watched him go, his mind racing. "Wait," he called out.

Kassadin paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

"You think you can stop them?" Titus asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Those creatures … they are not something you can fight."

Kassadin turned to him, his gaze unyielding. "Perhaps, But I will still fight, The Void Must Pay for what it took from me."

Finally, Kassadin inclined his head. "Thank you, for your time, Soldier. I will not trouble you further."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Titus and his men behind.

Thelassan approached cautiously, his brow furrowed. "Sergeant, what was that about?"

Titus didn't answer immediately. Thelassan and many of the Newer Raiders didn't experience the horrors of the temple. He stared at the place where Kassadin had stood, his thoughts swirling.

"That man," Titus said finally, his voice quiet. "He's dangerous."

Thelassan frowned. "You think he's telling the truth? About Icathia?"

Titus exhaled slowly, his grip on his sword loosening. "I don't know. But I've seen what those Creatures can do. If he's going there… May the Kindred Look upon his Soul."

But deep down, Titus couldn't shake the feeling that Kassadin wasn't walking to his death. No, he was walking toward something far, far worse.