League Of Legends/Arcane: Earthbound

Adam leaned against a fallen tree, staring into the crackling fire he had just built. The warmth was comforting, but it barely eased the ache in his legs after a full day of trekking through Demacia's dense wilderness. His stomach growled faintly as he roasted a small rabbit he'd managed to catch earlier.

He sighed, poking at the fire absently with a stick. "Two weeks," he muttered. "Two freaking weeks just to get close to the border. Feels like I'm running a marathon with no finish line in sight."

The rabbit meat sizzled as the flames licked at it. Adam's mouth watered, but his mind wandered. Back home, he'd have just ordered pizza or raided the fridge. Here? Every meal was a fight, and every step was a gamble.

He pulled the rabbit off the fire, taking a careful bite. It was chewy and bland, but it was better than nothing. "Gordon Ramsay would have a field day with this," he muttered to himself, chuckling dryly.

As he ate, his thoughts drifted to his family. His brother, probably assuming he was dead. His friends, who must've been wondering where he disappeared to. He clenched his jaw, determination flaring in his chest.

"I'll get back," he said quietly, staring into the fire. "One way or another."

The warmth and exhaustion eventually pulled him into a restless sleep, dreams haunted by serpents and chains and the cold stares of Demacian soldiers.

The next day, Adam was back on the move, the forest stretching endlessly around him. He stuck to the shadows, his footsteps light and careful. Twice, he spotted Demacian patrols in the distance, their blue and gold armor gleaming in the morning sun.

"Man, these guys are relentless," he whispered to himself, ducking behind a thicket as the soldiers passed. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited, barely breathing until they were out of sight.

By mid-afternoon, the forest began to thin, and Adam spotted the faint outline of a village in the distance. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the sound of rushing water reached his ears.

"A village next to a river," he muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Finally, some luck."

As the sun climbed higher, the forest began to thin, and the sound of rushing water reached his ears. Following it, Adam emerged onto a hill overlooking a small village nestled beside a wide river.

The sight of civilization made his heart leap. "If I'm lucky…" His thoughts trailed off as he scanned the area, his mind already working on a plan.

He made his way down cautiously, sticking to the edge of the woods until he reached the outskirts of the village. The air smelled of fresh bread and smoke, a sharp contrast to the wild, earthy scents of the forest. As he walked into the main square, heads turned. Villagers stopped what they were doing to stare at him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Adam pulled his hood lower, trying not to look too out of place. Great. Small-town vibes. Always suspicious of strangers. He approached a small shop with a sign depicting a bundle of furs, figuring it was his best chance at making a trade.

Inside, an older man stood behind the counter, his eyes narrowing as Adam entered. "You're not from around here," the man said bluntly.

"Not exactly," Adam replied, pulling a bundle of rabbit pelts from his bag and laying them on the counter. "I've been trapping in the woods. Figured I'd trade these for some supplies… maybe a favor."

The man picked up one of the pelts, inspecting it closely. "Not bad work. What kind of favor?"

"I need passage down the river," Adam said. "Far as I can get. You know anyone with a boat?"

The man's expression grew wary. "Depends on how far you're going."

Adam hesitated, considering his answer. "Far enough to not be Demacia's problem anymore."

The shopkeeper let out a low chuckle. "You're running from something, aren't you?"

Adam didn't respond, his jaw tightening.

"Relax, kid," the man said, waving him off. "Ain't none of my business. There's a boat heading downriver tomorrow morning. It'll take you as far as the Silent Forest."

"The Silent Forest?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. That's where they stop. No one's dumb enough to go further," the man said, lowering his voice. "Rumors say the forest is cursed. Creatures of the night, shadows that swallow you whole… you know, the usual spooky nonsense."

Adam's stomach churned at the thought, but he kept his face neutral. "I'll take my chances," he said.

The shopkeeper nodded, gathering the pelts. "Fair enough. Your trade's good. Ask for Edric at the docks. He'll be the one taking you downriver."

"Thanks," Adam said, slinging his pack over his shoulder.

"Word of advice," the shopkeeper added as Adam turned to leave. "Stay sharp. And don't trust everyone you meet."

Adam paused, glancing back at him. "Sound advice," he said before stepping out into the square.

The village buzzed around him as he made his way toward the river. People still eyed him suspiciously, but he ignored them, focusing on his plan. One step closer to the border. One step closer to Piltover. One step closer to home.

When he reached the docks, the murmur of the water calmed his nerves slightly. A wiry man with graying hair was tying up a small boat, humming to himself.

"You Edric?" Adam asked, approaching him.

The man looked up, squinting at him. "Who's asking?"

"Shopkeeper said you're heading downriver tomorrow," Adam said. "I need a ride."

Edric snorted. "You and everyone else. Got any coin?"

"No," Adam said bluntly, then held up a few strips of dried meat. "But I've got this. And I can help paddle."

Edric eyed him for a moment before shrugging. "Fine. Be here at dawn. And don't make me regret it."

Adam nodded. "You won't."

As he walked away, he felt a flicker of relief. For the first time in days, things seemed to be going his way. But the shadow of the Silent Forest loomed large in his mind.

"One problem at a time," he muttered to himself, tightening his grip on his pack. "Just make it out of Demacia first."

The Silent Forest loomed ahead, a vast expanse of gnarled trees and thick mist that seemed to swallow sound itself. Adam stood at the edge of the riverbank, his pack slung over his shoulder as he took a deep breath. The boat ride had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the air here felt heavier, laden with something he couldn't quite name.

"Thanks for the ride," he muttered to Edric, stepping off the boat.

Edric snorted. "Don't thank me yet, kid. You're the one dumb enough to head into that place. Good luck." Without another word, he pushed off, the boat gliding away downriver.

Adam turned to face the forest, swallowing his nerves. This place isn't cursed, he told himself. Just a bunch of scary stories. Nothing more. Yet every instinct screamed at him to stay alert. Something felt… wrong.

The forest was beautiful in an eerie way. The trees were ancient, their branches twisted like frozen smoke. Strange, luminous plants glowed faintly along the path, and tiny creatures flitted between the leaves—birds with shimmering wings, small beasts with fur that sparkled like starlight. It didn't look cursed. If anything, it felt alive in a way the world outside never had.

But the feeling of being watched never left him. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of the wind made his hand twitch toward his bow.

"Calm down, Adam," he muttered under his breath, gripping the bow tighter. "It's just your imagination. Nothing's watching you."

"Get it together, Adam," he muttered. "It's just trees. Trees and… glowing plants. And maybe a few murderous beasts."

The attempt at humor fell flat even to his own ears. He pressed on, his boots crunching softly against the mossy ground. The beauty of the forest couldn't distract him from the gnawing sense of unease that clung to him. Every rustle of leaves, every faint whisper of wind set his teeth on edge.

As he stepped into a small clearing, a dark shape loomed in the distance—a house. Its wooden walls were weathered and dark, ivy snaking up its sides like veins. A dim, flickering light glowed faintly through one of the windows.

Adam frowned. The sight of the house should've been comforting, but instead, it sent a chill down his spine. He stopped in his tracks, instincts screaming at him to turn back.

"Nope. Definitely not going near that," he muttered, spinning on his heel to take another path.

But the deeper he ventured into the forest, the stronger the feeling of being watched grew. His heart pounded in his chest, every nerve in his body on high alert. He crouched low, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow as he scanned the shadows around him.

"Where are you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The silence was deafening, pressing in on him from all sides. And then, out of nowhere, a cold hand gripped his shoulder.

Adam froze. His breath hitched as an icy chill ran down his spine. Chains of darkness slithered from the ground, wrapping tightly around his arms and legs, binding him in place. His bow slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.

"What the—" he started, but his words died in his throat as a figure emerged from the shadows.

She was stunning, in an otherworldly, almost terrifying way. Long black hair framed a face of sharp elegance, her glowing purple eyes boring into his as if she could see every secret he'd ever held. Her skin was a pale lavender, almost luminous in the dim light, and her flowing purple dress seemed to shimmer with the energy of the forest itself.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice smooth and commanding. "Why do you venture into my forest?"

Adam swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "I… My name's Adam," he stammered. "I'm just passing through. I didn't mean to trespass or anything."

Her eyes narrowed. "Passing through? This is no place for aimless wanderers. What do you seek?"

Adam hesitated, weighing his words carefully. There was no use lying—this woman, whoever she was, seemed to see straight through him.

"I'm looking for a way home," he said finally. "I'm not from this world, and I don't know how I got here. I've been trying to find someone who can help me get back."

She tilted her head, studying him with a gaze that made him feel exposed, vulnerable. "And your journey has brought you here?"

Adam nodded. "I didn't have a choice. I escaped a prison in Demacia, and this forest was the only place I could go. I didn't mean to cause trouble, I swear."

At the mention of Demacia, her expression darkened. "You speak of escape so lightly," she said, her tone icy. "Do you realize the consequences of your actions? Innocent lives may have been lost because of your recklessness."

"How do you know about that"Adam asked shocked"

"Word travels and I care for Demacia and it's people"The emo goth lady said.

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. Adam's shoulders slumped as guilt twisted in his chest. "I… I didn't think about that," he admitted quietly. "I just wanted to survive."

She regarded him in silence for a long moment, her glowing eyes unreadable. Then, to his surprise, the chains binding him dissolved into shadows, vanishing as if they'd never been there.

"You are troubled," she said, her voice softer now. "And I sense you are not without conscience. Come."

Adam blinked. "Come where?"

"My home," she replied simply. "You are weary and burdened. Rest may grant you the clarity you seek."

Reluctantly, he followed her back to the house he'd seen earlier. Up close, it felt less ominous, though the faint hum of magic in the air kept him on edge. Inside, the air was warm and smelled faintly of herbs. She motioned for him to sit at a small wooden table, and he did, his movements cautious.

She set a cup of tea in front of him and took a seat across from him, her piercing gaze never leaving his face.

"You said you are not from this world," she prompted. "Explain."

Adam hesitated, but the weight of her gaze compelled him to speak. He told her everything—the strange portal that had brought him here, the confusion and fear of waking up in Freljord, the trials he'd faced in Demacia. He spoke of his family, of his older brother who had always looked out for him, and how desperately he wanted to find a way back home.

She listened intently, her expression unreadable. When he finished, she leaned back in her chair, her glowing eyes thoughtful.

"You carry a heavy burden," she said. "But you are not the first to find yourself lost in this world."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I, too, am not of this land," she admitted. "Long ago, I was cast out of my own realm, left to wander until I found this forest. It welcomed me, offered me sanctuary. In return, I protect it from those who would harm it."

He frowned, curiosity piqued. "What happened? Why were you cast out?"

Her gaze flickered with pain, though she masked it quickly. "That is a story for another time," she said. "But suffice it to say, I understand your longing for home."

They fell into a companionable silence, the crackle of the hearth filling the space between them.

"Can I ask you something?" Adam ventured after a moment.

"Ask," she said simply.

"Why did you stop me earlier? You could've just… I don't know, killed me or scared me off. Why bring me here?"

Her lips curved into a faint smile. "I sensed no malice in you," she said. "Only fear and desperation. You are not like the others who have wandered into this forest seeking to exploit its magic. And… perhaps I saw a reflection of myself in you."

Adam nodded slowly, her words sinking in. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "For not killing me, I mean."

"You are welcome," she said, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Though I must admit, you are fortunate. Not all who enter this forest are granted such leniency."

As the evening stretched on, their conversation turned to lighter topics. She spoke of the forest's wonders, the creatures that called it home, and the delicate balance of its ecosystem. Adam, in turn, shared stories of his life before all of this—his brother's terrible cooking, the time he got lost on a hiking trip, the hours spent playing video games with friends.

For the first time in weeks, he felt a semblance of normalcy, a brief reprieve from the chaos of his journey.

When the fire burned low and his eyelids grew heavy, she rose from her seat and gestured toward a small bed tucked into the corner of the room.

"Rest," she said. "You will need your strength for what lies ahead."

Adam hesitated, then nodded. "Goodnight," he said, his voice soft.

"Goodnight, Adam," she replied, her voice carrying a warmth he hadn't expected.

As he lay down, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to him, he allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn't entirely alone in this strange, hostile world.