League of Legends

Chapter 809
He met Shwana when he was 13 years old.

She came to Ragan Village with 30 people. These people came from a nomadic tribe. Their life in the wilderness made their population decrease year by year. They were the last survivors.

Unlike other uninvited guests who came to plunder, they brought new blood, skills and weapons to this thriving fishing village, and settled down.

Kegan met her that day in the afterglow of the setting sun.

He was gathering heather and herbs in the hills to the south, stripping the thorny stalks and packing them into buckskin bags.This job can only be done slowly, and Kegan has a frizzy temper, and his hands have been stabbed no less than a hundred times.

As soon as he looked up, he saw her.

He stopped what he was doing, stood up, and dusted off his sore hands.He didn't realize that the curiosity and surprise on his face looked like suspicion, otherwise his appearance was actually quite upright.His mother once said: "You are handsome, as long as you stop looking at everything with that look, as if you have a big revenge to avenge."

"Who are you?" he asked.

She cringes a little.

Her expression made Kegan himself feel that his words sounded rude.

"I mean, you're new here, I know that. What's your name? What are you doing here? Lost?"

Kegan asked a series of questions.

The girl was a little older than him, with a slender figure and big eyes, and she was buried in thick fur.

In response to Kegan's barrage of questions, she glared at him and said in a mouselike voice, "Are you the doctor's son?"

Kegan grinned, but not joyfully.

He knew what people in the village were saying about him behind his back. Although the girl was new here, she must have heard hundreds of bad things about him.Therefore, he felt a pain in his heart, the first time in several years.

"My name is Kegan." He wanted to slow down his tone: "Yes, I am the doctor's son. Who are you?"

"My name is Shwana, can you come with me? My father is ill."

Kegan's heart sank: "I'm not a doctor, but my mother is. I'm just helping her."

"She is on her way to the village," said Tswana. "She told me to come to you. You have the herbs she wants here."

Kegan understood, put his pockets on his back, stepped on the black dirt and gravel and walked towards her: "I'll follow you right now, who is your father? What's wrong with him?"

"He's a sailmaker." Tswana replied as she led the way, "He can't eat or drink. He has a stomachache."

"My mother will find a solution." Kegan said confidently.

When following her through the mountain path towards the village down the mountain, every time the girl looked back at him, he felt as if he was stabbed in the heart, and he was very curious about what other children in the village would say to her.

It didn't take long for Kegan to be curious, and without even asking, she had already spoken softly and without prejudice.

"Old Regan said you were a bandit's boy, a bandit's bastard."

Kegan replied without emotion: "Old Regan is right."

"So you're really unlucky? Like the legend says?"

"That depends on which legend you believe in..." Kegan shook his head.

"What about you? Which one do you believe in?"

I don't believe any of them, he thought.

However, he just replied: "I don't know either."

This time, she didn't answer, but popped up another question: "But your mother is a doctor, why aren't you?"

Because I can't do magic... he thought.

"Because I want to be a fighter." Although I thought so in my heart, the answer was not the case.

Tswana stepped lightly on the frosted stones: "But there are no warriors here, only hunters."

"Then, I want to be a soldier."

"People need doctors more than soldiers."

"Oh." Kegan spat. "Then why can't the shaman make friends?"

He actually knew why, and had heard it countless times.

"People are afraid of me," my mother used to say.

But this time Tswana's answer was different: "If you save my father, I will make friends with you."

When he was 16, he broke Ilaki's jaw.

At the age of 16, he already has the skeleton and muscles of an adult, and he already knows how to use his fists to persuade others.

His mother had warned him over and over, and Shwana was doing the same now.

"Kegan, your temper..."

Tswana's tone and tone were exactly the same as his mother's.

When he was 16 years old, the celebration of the Winter Solstice Festival was unprecedentedly grand. A caravan and three musicians came from the Vallar Valley in the far southwest, and the celebration was very lively.

Young warriors dance in the fire, trying to attract unmarried girls who are watching.

The fight between Kegan and Iraqi was not ordinary.

Kegan came out of the fire after dancing, and was sweating profusely looking for Shwana by the sea. Did she see his performance?

"Where is Shwana?" he asked.

"Kegan." Mother grabbed his wrist tightly: "Calm down."

The heat of the flames and the sweat on his skin were gone, and he felt his blood freeze and his bones feel like ice.

"Where is Tswana?" he asked again, already growling.

Mother started to explain to him, but he didn't need it.

He seemed to have figured it out, maybe it was an intuition at the moment when he was about to get angry, or maybe, as the old mage said later, a glimmer of light from his dormant magical talents.

Whatever it was, he pushed his mother away.

He went into the sea, and many young men and women and families were standing in the water, wearing garlands of winter flowers, and swearing to each other that they would always be faithful and love each other until death.

People around him started whispering as he approached.

As he pushed his way through the crowd, they began to hold him back.

He's not too late, that's the point, there's still time.

"Tswana!"

All eyes were on him, but only her eyes were in his eyes.

The white winter flowers were out of tune with her black hair, and he wanted to tear it off.

The young man beside her stood guard in front of her, but she moved him away and faced Kegan herself.

"Kegan, don't do this, it was arranged by my father. If I don't want to, I can refuse, please don't do this. It's not appropriate."

"But you are mine."

He grabs her hand.

She couldn't react in time and didn't pull away, or maybe she knew that doing so would anger him.

"I'm not yours," she said softly.

The two stood in the center of the crowd, as if they were the ones to be united under the witness of the gods.

"I belong to no one, but I accept the vows of Marwell."

If that was the only scenario, Kegan could handle it.

Embarrassment is not worth mentioning to him. For a person who has been humiliated all the time, what is shame?

He could just walk away, or even forcibly violate his wishes and prayers, and stay in the crowd, pretending to be free and easy amidst the laughter, celebrations and blessings of the crowd.

For her, he can do it.

He was about to let go of her hand, was about to force a smile, and take a deep breath to apologize to her, but at this moment a hand was patted heavily on his shoulder.

"Let her go, boy!"

The hoarse old man's voice broke the silence.

The man who founded this village seems to have grown old while the world was young.

He was at least seventy, probably near eighty.But the person who took the picture of him was not Ragan himself, he just gestured to the people around Kegan.

"Get out, bastard bastard! Before you bring us greater doom!"

The hand tugged at him, but Kegan didn't budge. He wasn't a child anymore, he had the strength of a man now.

"Don't touch me." He gritted his teeth, and the expression on his face caused Tswana to back away.

More people came up to pull him, and he was dragged away.

Then, as before, his instincts were awakened, and he turned, growling loudly, and slamming his fists at the man closest to him.

Tshwana's father fell boneless, his jaw shattered.

Kegan left.

There were cries and curses, but no one tried to stop him.

On the way home, he kept tightening the corners of his eyes to keep the tears from streaming down.

His knuckles were twitching all the time, and the pain he felt comforted him a bit...although he didn't want any comfort...

(End of this chapter)