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The Shadow Door

Ian St Martin

“Tell me another story.”

“Now now, Abel,” Celwyn said, setting the storybook down on a table and drawing the blanket snug around his son’s shoulders. “That’s two stories already. Now it’s time for sleep.”

“But,” whispered the boy, pulling the covers up beneath his eyes, “what if the monsters get me?”

Celwyn smiled. He half chided himself for telling his son the tales, a collection of old Valoran fables replete with courageous heroes triumphing over evil sorcerers and monstrous beasts. They were from a storybook Celwyn’s own father had read to him when he was young—though maybe not as young as Abel.

The last story he had read, The Shadow Door, had been Celwyn’s favorite as a child, where a young squire wins the day against a foul king seeking to cloak the whole world in shadow. It had scared him silly, Celwyn remembered fondly. Perhaps he should have waited a little longer before reading it to his own son.

“That was just a story,” said Celwyn, sitting down lightly at the edge of Abel’s bed. “Even if you have a bad dream, those monsters from the story can never hurt you, alright? It’s all make-believe. They aren’t real.”

He leaned down to kiss Abel’s forehead, but the boy shrank back from him.

“What?” chuckled Celwyn. “Too old for a kiss?”

His chuckle died as Abel kept sinking into the bed.

A chill ran up Celwyn’s spine as his son sank lower and lower, as though a pit had opened up beneath the mattress. Abel cried out as the blanket wound tight around his body. It began to glisten, becoming slick and wet as it morphed into a red, spotted tongue.

Celwyn snapped free from the shock that had rooted him in place. He reached out for his son, struggling to get hold of Abel and pull him out.

But the tongue only wound tighter, sliding deeper down.

The edges of the bed splintered with a sharp crack. Jagged spars of wood rose, turning sharp and yellow as they calcified into fangs. The entire frame was transforming into a gigantic, hideous maw, poised to devour Celwyn’s son whole.

“Abel!” he cried, staggering as he began to retch. Coils of dark mist feathered from his nose and lips, rising to swirl above the changing bed like a gathering storm.

The maw flexed, yawning wide as it released a deafening, blood-curdling scream. It was neither the roar of a great predator nor the howl of a beast gathering its kin for the hunt. It sounded to Celwyn like a birthing cry… almost as if it were in agony.

“Papa!” Abel screamed, before he vanished from sight.

The jaws snapped shut.




Celwyn bolted upright, gasping, drawing in great lungfuls of air as he ran his hand down a face sheened in cold sweat. His eyes flitted around, seeing nothing in his lightless room. It was the middle of the night in Piltover, and the lamps of the city streets below were barely visible through the curtains of his window.

After a few moments, his heart stopped pounding, and his thoughts began to calm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare, nor could he recall one as vivid and real as this one had been.

His mind went to his son. He should get out of bed, just for a quiet moment, to check on Abel. To see if he was—

“Papa?”

Celwyn started at the sound of the voice. His eyes had slowly adjusted to the dark, enough to only now see the small shape of his son, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Abel?” Celwyn blinked. “Abel, what are you—”

“Why?” asked the boy.

Celwyn frowned. “What are you doing up? Are you alright?”

“Why did you have that dream, Papa?”

“What?” Celwyn asked, any trace of sleep gone from his mind.

“Why would you do it?” Abel said again, his voice taking on a pleading edge. Celwyn could only see the silhouette of his son’s face with the curtains drawn… but he didn’t remember drawing them. “Don’t you know that’s what feeds him?

Celwyn suddenly felt very cold. He looked up over Abel’s head, seeing the tall shadow that he cast over the wall.

A shadow that was not of his son.

Abel shivered, and his silhouette melded into the shadow on the wall. In a moment the image of the boy was gone, fading rapidly to nothing in the growing darkness. Celwyn reached out to him, and watched a thin tendril of dark mist sigh out through Abel’s lips, just as it had in his dream.

With a wet, burbling hiss, the shadow began to tear itself loose from the wall. Sheer terror seized Celwyn as he watched a creature emerge. It was like a living shadow, roughly human in form, its body tapering down beneath the torso like the tip of a blade. The monster rippled and wavered, as though Celwyn were viewing it beneath dark waters, with a pair of cold, staring eyes boring back into him, through to his very soul.

Adrenaline flooded Celwyn, the animal response of flight surging through every fiber of his being. But try as he might, no matter how his body demanded it, his mind betrayed him. He was paralyzed, incapable of being anything more than a witness to something he had believed only existed in old fables read by fathers to their sons.

A monster. One that was real.

The creature’s jaws parted a fraction, revealing long, crooked teeth. Then it spoke to him, somehow repeating Celwyn’s panicked thoughts back to him with his own voice.

“What are you?” it rasped. “Where did you come from?”

It surged closer, hovering over him. Drops of midnight fell from its form, bleeding away to nothing like ink in the ocean. The monster’s arms elongated, their ends twisting and flattening into broad, wicked blades that hooked over its claws.

Celwyn blanched, unable to look away from the nightmare creature as it bent down, bringing its horrifying visage directly level with his.

It whispered a single word to Celwyn, before it buried its blades in his heart. An answer to his questions, spoken softly with the voice of a drowning man sinking into the darkest depths.

“You.”




Dawn came, ushering in the bustle and noise of the thriving merchant city. Sunlight bathed the metropolis, shining from every window, including that of Celwyn’s bedroom.

A voice came from the other side of the door, accompanied by the soft knock of a child’s tiny hand. “Papa?” The knob turned slowly, Abel cracking the door just enough for a peek. “It’s morning!”

The boy entered his father’s room, and the shadows withdrew as he opened the door wider. They slid back from the morning light, but somehow slower, more reluctantly than usual.

“Papa? Where are you?” called Abel, fear creeping into his voice as he looked around the room.

There was no sign of his father, or of anyone else in the gloom. And yet, the boy could not shake the idea that something, crowded into the darkest corner of the room, was watching him.

Abel coughed, not noticing the tiny wisp of mist that followed, before turning back toward the hall and closing the door behind him.

More stories

  1. POP/STARS

    POP/STARS

    K/DA

    Intro
    You know who it is
    Coming 'round again
    You want a dose of this
    Right now
    It’s K/DA uh!

    Verse 1A
    I'm a goddess with a blade
    소리쳐봐 내 이름
    (sori chyuh bwa nae eereum)
    잊지 못하게
    (itchi moht ha geh)
    Loud loud loud loud

    I could take it to the top
    절대 멈추지 못해
    (juhl dae mum choo ji moht hae)
    내가 끝내주는
    (nae ga kkeut nae joo neun)
    Bad gal gal gal

    Verse 1B
    And when I start to talk like that (like that)
    Oh you won’t know how to react
    I’m a picture perfect face
    With that wild in my veins
    You can hear it in my
    Growl, growl, growl, growl

    Pre-Chorus
    So keep your eyes on me now
    무엇을 보든 좋아할 거야
    (mu uhtseul bo dun joah hal guh ya)
    닿을 수 없는 level
    (dahl sooup neun)
    나와 대결 원한 널 확신해
    (na wa dae gyul won han nuhl hwak shin hae)
    We gotta it all in our hands now
    So can you handle what we’re all about
    We’re so tough
    Not scared to show you up
    Can you feel the rush now?

    Hook
    Ain’t nobody bringing us down down down...
    They could try but we’re gonna wear the crown
    You could go another round round round...
    Wish you luck but you’re not bringing us down

    Bridge
    We go hard
    Till we get it get it
    We go hard
    We so in it in it
    We POP/STARS
    Only winning winning now
    Ain’t nobody bringing us down down down down

    Verse 2A
    Hey!
    You ready for this? Lessgo!

    See 언제든지 내 모습 Magic
    (see uhn jae deunji nae mo seup magic)
    단 한 번에 내가 잡어
    (dan han bun eh naega jab uh)
    절대 기죽지 않지
    (juhl dae gi jook ji ahn chi)
    Pow pow 네가 뭘 알아
    (pow pow ni ga mwol ahruh)
    견딜 수 없어, 원해도.
    (gyun dil soo up ssuh won hae do)
    원하는 게 얼굴에 보여
    (won ha neun gae uhl gool ae boyuh)
    I’m trouble and you’re wanting it
    I’m so cold
    When I move that way
    You gonna be so blown
    I’m the realest in the game uh!

    Verse 2B
    Say I’m on fire with a blade
    You’re about to hear my name
    Ringing in your head like ohhh

    Pre-Chorus 2
    So keep your eyes on me now
    무엇을 보든 좋아할 거야
    (mu uhtseul bo dun joah hal guh ya)
    We’re so tough
    Not scared to show you up
    Can you feel the rush now?

    Hook
    Ain’t nobody bringing us down down down...
    They could try but we’re gonna wear the crown
    You could go another round round round...
    Wish you luck but you’re not bringing us down

    We go hard
    Till we get it get it
    We go hard
    We so in it in it
    We POP/STARS
    Only winning winning now
    Ain’t nobody bringing us down down down down

    Bridge
    Ooh, mm, ...
    Oh... 난 멈추지 않아
    (nan muhm chu ji anna)
    Oh oh we go hard
    Oh oh we POP/STARS, stars

    Hook
    Ain’t nobody bringing us
    Ain’t nobody bringing us down down down...
    They could try but we’re gonna wear the crown
    You could go another round round round...
    Wish you luck but you’re not bringing us down

    We go hard
    Till we get it get it
    We go hard
    We so in it in it
    We POP/STARS
    Only winning winning now
    Ain’t nobody bringing us down down down down

  2. Interview: Inside K/DA

    Interview: Inside K/DA

    PopRox

    PopRox: Hello to our international audience! Today we have very special guests for you. I’m here with the four members of K/DA. If you haven’t heard of them, and how have you not heard of them, are you living under a rock?! Go to YouTube right now and search for their hit song “POP/STARS”.

    We are so excited to have you today, K/DA.

    K/DA: Hi everyone! My name is Kai’Sa and you’re listening to PopRox! The rest of K/DA and I are excited to hang out!

    PopRox: I got to say, Kai’Sa, it’s so lovely to hear your accent. Tell us more about your upbringing.

    Kai’Sa: Thank you. Well, I grew up all over actually; my parents traveled quite a bit. My accent is pretty international.

    PopRox: Any favorite cities?

    Kai’Sa: <LAUGHS> Of course! My favorite cities are Cape Town, Seoul, New York, and Hong Kong, where I spent most of my time before K/DA.

    Ahri: 그래서 저희 안무에 이국적인 느낌이 있어요. 카이사랑 안무 연습을 하면 연습 같지 않고 너무 즐겁죠.
    (She brings international style to our choreography too! It's never a boring dance practice with Kai'Sa.)

    PopRox: That’s incredible! And thank you, Eve for translating. How long does it take for you to get ready for a performance?

    Ahri: A lot of time! 상상도 못 할 정도로 오래 걸려요. 다들 최선을 다하거든요. 투어 중에는 빨리 일어나서 의상 챙기고 메이크업 받고 준비를 하죠. 투어 중이 아닐 땐 스튜디오에 일찍부터 가 있고요.
    (Everyone in the house works so hard. We get up early to get dressed and prepare for a day during tours. If we're not touring, we'll be at the studio early.)

    PopRox: Alright, let’s talk about you Ahri. How does it feel to be back in the limelight and with such a hit single?

    Evelynn to Ahri: 자꾸 왜 이런 걸 물어볼까? 난 이 질문 별로야.
    (I don’t think it’s a great question. They always ask.)

    Ahri: 너무 그러지 마, 이블린. 저는… 일단 음악에 집중했어요. 팬분들께서 좋아하고 자랑스러워하실 만한 노래, 대담하고 아름다운 노래를 만들고 싶었거든요. 언제나 다양한 문화에 열린 마음으로 저희를 응원해 주시는 팬 여러분께 감사하다는 말씀 드리고 싶네요. 정말 감사합니다! 꿈이 현실이 된 것 같아요.
    (It’s ok, Eve. I focused on my music. I wanted to make bold and beautiful songs that people love and have confidence in. Thank you to our fans around the world for the continued support and acceptance of our cross-cultural artists. Thank you for all your love. Our vision came together.)

    Eve: This is important. Ahri did not disappear. She saw real issues with the restrictions of creativity from music labels and found a way to unleash a powerful album with a fearless team.

    PopRox: That’s a great point, Evelynn. You have a reputation in the music industry as a difficult artist to work with. Do you feel you’ve found a perfect position on K/DA?

    Eve: Oh, I’m familiar with the “bad girl” or “diva” labels. I have nothing but good things to say about previous bands I’ve worked with. We simply had creative differences. Everything we do in K/DA is collaborative. Ahri’s leadership enables each of us to express our talents equally. Yes, this is a perfect fit for me.

    PopRox: Can you tell us more about your album, K/DA?

    Ahri: 카이사, 네가 대답할래?
    (Kai’Sa, can you answer?)

    Kai’Sa: There is a place between fantasy and reality where anything can happen. You have the power to be anyone, and do anything. It is your dream. In our in-between world, K/DA feels confident and strong. We can do anything, and so can you.

    Akali: So can you!

    Ahri: <LAUGHS>

    PopRox: Why do you think the song “POP/STARS” is such a hit?

    Ahri: 아칼리 덕분이죠. 저희의 비밀 병기라고나 할까요? 목소리가 독보적이잖아요.
    (Akali. She's our secret weapon. No one sounds like her.)

    Akali: No! No it’s not me I promise. I am trying to break tradition, but it’s easier with K/DA doing it together. It’s all of us. Eve and Ahri work so hard to encourage each of us to unleash our minds. For example, I wrote the rap for “POP/STARS” so many times, and each time Ahri encouraged me to go further. Eve… well Eve is more direct.

    Eve: I told her to stop trying to be the most creative rap artist in Asia, and to just be it.

    Kai’Sa: I feel like Akali brings this truly unique vibe. We each have our own style and with Ahri’s direction we make music completely different than current pop songs. And our fans love it!

    PopRox: Akali, you perform on the street, right?

    Eve: You can’t stop her.

    Akali: Ha. Yes. Sometimes. I don’t want to be successful because people know who I am. I want them to like my lyrics because they’re good.

    Eve: They’re good.

    PopRox: That’s pretty rare for a pop star, and we really appreciate it. You’ve been spotted in Hong Kong and Tokyo as well, wherever you girls tour. There’s a viral video of you in Seoul rapping and doing a few flips.

    Akali: Ha. Yeah. Just a few flips.

    PopRox: What was each of your favorite parts in “POP/STARS?”

    Kai’Sa: Oh I adore Akali’s rap. The black light scenes showing how there’s so much more than what meets the eye, that’s the kind of art I like making.

    Akali: Kai’Sa spray painted the art herself! She made my mask. My favorite part is Ahri’s elegance. Her parts in “POP/STARS” give us a strong foundation to set up this magical world.

    PopRox: You two have so many talents! What about you, Eve?

    Eve: Driving down the tunnel at Kai’Sa was a thrill. The thing is we filmed that scene only seven times. I wish I had more time with that sports car. We did put Kai’Sa in front of the speeding car once, but they told us not to do it again. Seeing the final version of it was fabulous.

    Kai’Sa: You know I would’ve gotten away in time.

    Eve: But the stunt coordinator might not.

    PopRox: Ahri?

    Ahri: POP/STARS에서 제가 제일 좋아하는 부분은… 마지막 장면에서 같이 안무하는 거요. 촬영 중일 땐 따로 있는 경우가 많다 보니까 함께인 순간이 좀 특별하게 느껴져요. 넷이 같이 춤을 출 때 저희가 제일 빛나는 것 같아요.
    (Dancing together in the last scene is my favorite part of “POP/STARS”. We’re not always together when we film. When we are, it’s very special to me. When the four of us dance together, K/DA shines.)

    PopRox: So what’s next for K/DA?

    Ahri: 팬분들을 위해서 투어도 계속하고 음악도 만들어야죠. 저희 음악의 가치는 자기표현이나 사랑, 아름다움, 우정, 자신감 같은 데 있는 것 같아요. 더 많은 분들께 그런 가치를 전해드리고 싶어요.
    (We’ll continue to travel and create music for our fans. I believe our music celebrates self expression, love, beauty, friendship, and confidence. We will take that all over the world.)

    Eve: Basically, we’re just getting started.

    PopRox: Thank you so much for spending time with us K/DA. Wishing you the best of luck at the League of Legends Worlds Championship performance. And thank you to our listeners from around the world. This is PopRox signing off.

  3. The Twilight Star

    The Twilight Star

    Ariel Lawrence

    I have too many questions I want to ask her. I sneak a side-glance as we walk. She’s looking straight ahead. I watch her gaze sweep back and forth across the far perimeter of the park, her red hair catching the last scraps of the afternoon light with each step. Does she see something? Is this the way she normally patrols? Is she bored? Why is she here? I can’t believe she wanted to come. Why did she come? I quicken my pace to keep up.

    “Fortun—Sarah,” I say, remembering.

    She doesn’t look away from the path ahead, so I keep going.

    “Thanks for coming. I know this was a kinda last-minute ask. Lulu draws weird stuff sometimes. A lot, actually. And the other Star Guardians from your team—”

    “Ez really does have detention, Lux,” she says.

    “Oh,” I stammer. “It’s cool.” I can feel the pink in my cheeks. I tug on the tips of my gloves. She turns to look at me, a smug grin softening her face.

    “He wanted to be here,” she says. “Soraka too, but Pantheon’s was short staffed. And tonight is Syndra’s astronomy class at the university—”

    “—And Ahri?” I blurt out too quickly.

    Sarah’s smile tightens. “She’s been busy.”

    “No worries,” I say, looking for a way to change the subject. In the middle of the park, Janna pushes Poppy and a free-loading Jinx on a squeaky merry-go-round. Lulu sways idly in a close-by swing set, its metal chains clang softly, like lonely windchimes. There’s no one else in the park besides us. “It’s pretty quiet.”

    “Like you said, it’s probably nothing,” she says casually.

    I take the folded slip of paper out of my pocket. The frayed edge where I tore it out of Lulu’s notebook flutters in the breeze. The shapes of the playground equipment and power lines surrounding Valoran City’s metro park were clear enough, but it was the dozens of circles in the sky that worried me. Poppy said that it was too warm in physics class, and Lulu was just doodling to stay awake.

    “Look!” Lulu shouts from the swing, snapping me out of my thoughts. She is at the top of the swing’s arc, gesturing excitedly at the horizon. A bright spot has risen just over the silhouette of the skyline. “Twilight star! I saw it first.”

    I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. It’s just a star. Stars can’t hurt us.

    “The twilight star is not a real star,” Poppy groans. “Technically it’s a planet.”

    “Janna said everything has starlight in it,” Lulu argues back.

    Janna nods her head in agreement.

    “What are you gonna wish for, Loops?” Jinx juggles Shiro and Kuro absently as the merry-go-round spins. Lulu pumps her legs on the swing, pushing it higher.

    “More stars!” she shouts. “I want to see more stars.”

    “But it’s not dark yet,” Jinx says. “The other stars aren’t out yet.”

    “Doesn’t matter.” Lulu pumps her legs harder. “The other stars are always there no matter what. Even if you can’t see them.”

    “Rocket-breath is right,” Poppy says, hiding her reluctant agreement with Jinx by examining a non-existent scuff on her hammer. “It needs to get really dark before you can see the stars in the city. It’s not like at the camp.”

    I cup my hands together and shout back to them, “You’re all right.” Jinx opens her mouth to argue, but shrugs and takes the win.

    I turn back to Sarah.

    “Are they always like this?” she asks. I’m sure she’s thinking about us compared to her own team. How this kind of talk would never happen if it was only them. They would just get right down to business. Search the park and be done. I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or annoyed or both.

    “You mean are they always this argumentative?” I offer. “No, I mean, well, yes… sometimes—”

    “This innocent,” she says, quietly.

    “Well, you have Ahri to lead you. Of course you always know what you’re doing. Us, well… All they’ve had is me.”

    “Innocent isn’t always a bad thing.” She has that faraway look on her face again, like she’s trying to remember a dream she had a long time ago. She nods her head slowly as if agreeing on the memory. “Yes, that’s who you remind me of.”

    “Me? Remind you of Ahri?!” I ask, trying desperately to not sound desperate. Does she really think I’m like Ahri? Which part? Maybe a younger Ahri? I mean, she should know, she’s Ahri’s lieutenant. Did Ahri have multiple lieutenants on her old team? Maybe if our teams join, I can be another one, like Sarah?

    “No.” Sarah lets out a sharp laugh. I don’t know if she can read minds, but my hope deflates like an untied balloon.

    “Someone else. You remind me of someone else,” she says, softening. “Someone I lost a long time ago. She had pink hair too.” She looks me over again, and I try not to squirm under the scrutiny. “Come to think of it, you’re also too loyal for your own good… and such a dreamer. You’re kinda a mix of all of them,” she says.

    Them? The team you lost? Is this a bad thing? Who were they? I add ten more questions I want to ask her to the list running constantly in my head.

    How did it happen?

    “Lux! Sarah! Look.” Lulu yells happily, interrupting my thoughts before I can get any further. “My wish!”

    We look back at the distant playground. I run through a quick check. Lulu. Jinx. Poppy. Janna. Still safe and sound. The twilight has softened all of them, making them seem younger than they really are. The street lamps in the park click on in an unsettling coincidence. Hovering above the team are a swarm of twinkling lights. The team looks like they’re caught in a magical dream.

    “Loops, It’s like Short Stop said, it’s not dark enough…” The creaking of the merry-go-round slows to a stop as Janna, Poppy, and Jinx look up as well. It’s getting darker fast. Too fast. I can barely see the trees around the edge of the park. Sarah and I start walking back toward the playground more quickly.

    “Those aren’t stars,” Sarah says. I squint to get a better look. The points of light waver, almost glistening. As we get closer I can see what Sarah means. Dozens of thin translucent spheres reflect the light from the street lamps. Bubbles? They were… bubbles? I stuff Lulu’s drawing into the cuff of my glove.

    “I don’t think the twilight star heard you right, Lulu,” Poppy says. “Those are bubbles.”

    They aren’t just bubbles. One of them floats down toward Poppy, almost as if it was following the sound of her voice. Poppy steps back, letting it drift toward the metal railing of the merry-go-round.

    The hushed silence is interrupted by a snort-laugh from Jinx. “C’mon. They’re harmless—”

    A trail of bubbles begins to close in on her. I reach for my wand as I start running. “Jinx!”

    I throw the staff out ahead of me. It and a prismatic rainbow of starlight just graze the top of Jinx’s pigtails before returning to my hand. A sphere of multicolored light covers Jinx and Poppy. A few bubbles bounce off the barrier and pop against the swing set leaving behind a swirl of dark mist, fluttering black shapes—bugs perhaps, or moths?—and a long, high-pitched laugh, like the delighted cackle of a child.

    “That can’t be good, right?” Jinx whisper-yells. “Let’s pop these bad boys!”

    “My thoughts exactly.” A double shot of Sarah’s twin pistols fire before she can finish her sentence. A wave of bubbles pop in a shower of black haze and twisted butterflies.

    “What’s inside doesn’t look that great either,” Poppy says.

    “Don’t let them touch you.” Janna’s eyes glow lavender. A breeze picks up in the park as she begins to rise off the ground. The air current gathers fallen leaves as it begins to draw the bubbles together. Janna corrals them and the darkness they contain into a dense pack. Each of them pushes against each other, almost as if they were annoyed at being restrained.

    The high-pitched laugh stops short and is quickly replaced by an annoyed groan. The noise echoes around us, setting my teeth on edge. In the center of the pack of toxic bubbles that Janna gathered, a thin circle takes shape. The circle opens into a portal, letting long tendrils snake out from some dark dimension. One unsettling squid eye opens, followed by a second. The gelatinous blob unfolds into some cross between an evil octopus and demonic jellyfish.

    “Take it down,” Sarah yells. Shiro and Kuro fire eagerly. Poppy twists around, pulling her hammer back for a long, arcing hit. She growls through the effort as the hammer swings around. In a resounding smack, it connects with the bubble mass, knocking the now angry and disoriented jellyfish out of the center. The malcontent blob drifts for a moment, but collects itself and the scattered bubble pack. They move purposefully toward Sarah.

    “Sarah, get down,” I yell. I can feel the heavy power of pure starlight channel through my staff, vibrating the bones in my fingers and arm. The creature darts around, hiding behind bubbles. I fire in a beam of white-hot light. The little jellyfish slips between the bubbles and I miss. I try to get closer, but it feels like time is standing still.

    “Loops, no!” Jinx yells.

    It’s too late. From out of nowhere, a tiny Lulu pushes Sarah out of the way. Sarah lands hard, but rolls onto her back, both barrels blasting above her.

    One bubble escapes the pack above. It floats down, straining to get closer. It breaks against Lulu’s cheek in a wet pop. The darkness seeps out, expanding, and in the space of two heartbeats, Lulu is enveloped by an inky cloud. Her eyes close as she crumples to the ground in a small heap. I dive for Lulu, scooping her up in my arms. More bubbles pop above me as Sarah and Jinx finish off the last of them. A portal opens above the dark jellyfish. The maniacal laughter gets louder and the little beast floats toward the opening, almost as if was buoyed by the sound. As it crosses the portal’s threshold, it disappears, taking the remains of the dark magic with it.

    I bring my ear down to Lulu’s face. She’s breathing, slow and even… is she asleep?

    “Lulu!” I shake her by the shoulders. Lulu lets out a soft moan and her eyes flutter for a second. I bring my wand up, the brightness is near blinding. Lulu’s closed eyes flinch. “Lulu, by Starlight, wake up!”

    “Lost. They were lost.” Lulu’s voice is barely a whisper. Her eyes close tighter against the light, and her lip quivers. It’s as if she’s stuck in a nightmare. “Dark now,” she says.

    Lulu sits bolt upright, her blue eyes wide open now. She looks past all of us, like we’re not there, like she’s seeing through us to somewhere else. Like she’s somewhere else.

    “She’s on her way,” Lulu says.

    “She? Who, Lulu? Who’s on their way?” This is big. One blaring thought shuts out all the others in my brain. Could it be her? Is Ahri on her way? I bite my lip. I look around at Janna, Poppy, Jinx, and finally Sarah.

    “Ahri!” I say. “Ahri will know.”

    “No,” Sarah says.

    “Of course she will.” I push off her muted reply, trying to keep a smile of optimism for the others. “Can you call her, Sarah?”

    “I can’t.” Sarah won’t look at me.

    “Wait, why?”

    “We’re not talking right now,” she says quietly.

    “Sarah, I think this is more important than—”

    “—The slumber party.” Sarah interrupts looking me straight in the eye. “That night. She was supposed to come. At the last minute, she said there was something she had to take care of. Something she wouldn’t let me help with. I thought she was just being…”

    “Ahri,” I finish as she nods her head in confirmation. “You haven’t seen her since?”

    Sarah shakes her head no, tightening her grip on the pair of pistols in her lap. Just before Sarah looks away, I see it—a flicker of panic. I can feel my heart thump harder in my chest.

    A hundred more questions flood my brain. My stomach tightens.

    What could make Sarah panic like this? Where did Ahri go? What’s coming?

    Are we strong enough to face it?

    Am I strong enough?

    I want to ask her, but I can’t.

  4. Milio's Super-Special Adventure Reports

    Milio's Super-Special Adventure Reports

    Elyse Lemoine

    Greetings, family! It is I, Milio, with my first official Adventure Report!

    I can't believe it's been three whole days since I left home. I made it safely to my first village and I'm ready to sleep in a REAL bed tonight. No more jungle floor! I can smell dinner too, mmm... (But your cooking is way better, Mamá! Yours too, Meli!)

    When I got to the village, your letters were waiting for me! I miss you all SO MUCH. How's Cousin Javi? Is Tomasin helping Papá with the farm? How are the animals doing? Cousin Jaime, I can't believe your and Xalvadora's baby is coming soon! How is she doing? Tell me everything! Also, Luca, you're not allowed to get married until I get home, okay? (Say hi to Cedro for me!)

    ANYWAY, I bet you're all wondering about my journey. Well, guess what? Your favorite Milio has become super tough and rugged camping under the stars, hehe. The jungle isn't as scary as it looks, especially when I have my fuemigos to keep me warm at night. Plus, now I don't have to share my bedroom anymore!

    The fuemigos are doing really well! My furnasita is keeping them nice and cozy, and they've done so much good work, lighting my path and even healing little jungle critters. (I helped too, of course!) Omele Lupé, I've been practicing my axiom every day and I'm getting stronger, just like you told me. The Vidalion won't stand a chance!

    This is the farthest I've ever been from home... but every day has been new and exciting! I'm doing REEEEEEALLY well too, by the way. I already made three new friends in the village, and we're eating together tonight!

    Speaking of, I gotta go eat. My fuemigos and I are STAAAAARVING. I'm leaving again tomorrow morning, but I'll write you as soon as I reach the next village.

    Love you all! My next letter is coming soon!

    The Tough and Rugged Milio




    Hi, family! It's Milio again, safe in the next village and ready to tell you all about my newest adventures!

    Thank you all for your letters. I wish I could write more often... Maybe I could train one of my fuemigos to deliver my letters for me? Can they even travel that far? Let's find out!

    I'm back! They can't...

    So Cousin Isabella was injured? How's she doing? I bet she'll be back on her feet in no time with one of Cousin Junot's poultices. Auntie Alba, I wish I could hear your new songs! I bet the whole village loved them.

    OH, you'll never guess who I met today! Okay, so picture this: I was wandering through the jungle when I saw an injured kitten. It was so cute and soft and fluffy, and it needed my help, so my fuemigos and I jumped into action and healed it! I got so many cuddles, and it was purring SOOOO much. We were napping in a sun spot when Nidalee found us!

    You remember the stories about the "Kashdaji Queen," right? About how she's half-woman, half-cat, and half-ghost? How she stalks the jungle at night, waiting to pounce on kids out past their bedtime? Well, her real name is Nidalee, and she's the best EVER. Definitely not a scary ghost who eats kids! Actually, she doesn't even like people that much. But she CAN turn into a cat! Isn't that amazing?

    Omele Lupé, I think you’d really like her. She's super strong, just like you!

    She didn't really like me at first, but I won her over. So she let me travel with her pack for a little bit, because I helped one of their kittens! (She taught me they're called "pakiti," and the Kashdaji are actually called "pakaa.") It was really fun getting to travel with Nidalee and her pack.

    We're kinda like a pack, right? We might not be pakaa, but we have each other. It would be fun if we were traveling together, too. Also, cuddle puddles!

    I hope I see Nidalee again. If you ever see her, say hi for me! She might SEEM distant at first, but she's actually super sweet, hehe.

    Time for me to go! The village is having a bonfire tonight and I wanna check it out.

    Love you all!

    Milio, the Honorary Pakaa




    Hi, family, it's Milio again! I miss you all a ton... You miss me too, right?

    I'm so glad I got your letters. Hearing what you've all been up to makes me REALLY happy, almost like you're traveling with me! And it gives me something to look forward to when I reach each stop on my way to Ixaocan.

    I definitely needed them today... When I got to the village last night, there was a lot going on. A bunch of people were hurt pretty bad. Luckily, me and my fuemigos were there to help! But... one person didn't make it.

    His family told me there wasn't anything I could have done. That I did SO much and made his last moments warm, but...

    I should have been able to save him.

    I guess it was pretty amazing helping everyone and showing them just how comfy and cozy fire can be. My fuemigos love being in the spotlight, too! And I helped a lot of people... But, I dunno...

    OH, Cousin Jaime, Xalvadora, I read about your baby! I'm so happy for you!!! I wish I could be there to meet her. Tell her all about Uncle Milio, okay? And give her a bajillion kisses and cuddles for me until I get home!

    Omele Lupé, I'm sorry. Next time, I'll do better. I promise.

    I'm gonna go now! I wanna check on everyone before I leave.

    Love you all!

    Milio




    Co-'om se-henna, family!

    "Milio, what does that mean?" Good question! It means "smile forever." I learned it from a new friend, hehe. (I'll tell you more soon!)

    It's been FOREVER since my last letter! My fuemigos and I are marching on, meeting so many new people and seeing so many new things.

    First, did you know there's a lady made of PLANTS in the jungle? I heard a lot of whispers about her in the last village, but I thought it was just scary stories for babies or something. Boy, was I wrong!

    I actually saw her one night! She was covered in petals and vines and leaves and everything! But her little seed friends looked really sharp... Don't worry, Mamá, Papá, I didn't go say hi. But I kinda wish I had...

    Also, I saw a mountain? Or at least a giant, moving rock! I noticed it through the trees and I was so confused, because it wasn't on my trusty map, so I went to investigate. And it seemed like a normal rock-mountain until I noticed... it had a FACE! And it was... moving? I reeeeeeally wanted to say hi, but I think it would’ve stepped on me if I’d tried. Next time!

    I made a new best friend, too. Her name is Neeko! She's so cute and nice and can shapeshift! She tried to play a prank on me by turning into ME, but my fuemigos knew it was a trick. I'm so proud of them.

    So yeah, Neeko smelled Nidalee's pakaa on me and wanted to investigate. (Apparently they're super-duper close!) (Also, Mamá, Papá, I PROMISE I shower every night. Well, most nights...)

    I learned a lot from Neeko, like how to say a bunch of new things and how she's trying to form a tribe for anyone who needs a home. I wish I could help her, but I gotta join the Yun Tal, first. Maybe one day?

    I've been traveling through Ixtal for so long now. It feels like I never run out of new things to see. Every day is fun and different, even if the jungle floor still isn't all that comfortable, hehe.

    Anyway, me and my fuemigos are pooped. It's so late here... What time is it for you? How's my new niece? (I can't believe I'm not the baby of the family anymore!) Tell Tomasin that she better be talking to the animals every night. They sleep better after you read them a bedtime story.

    Omele Lupé, I'm almost at Ixaocan! I'm training every day so I can face the Vidalion and make you proud.

    Also, I'm doing okay, I promise. I'm big and strong, so you don't need to worry about me.

    Love you all!

    Your Best Friend, Milio




    Greetings from Ixaocan, family!

    Can you believe I finally made it? I was starting to think I'd be traveling through the jungle FOREVER. Is it weird I kinda miss it?

    There's so much to tell you! But now that I can write to you every day, I'll send even more letters about what I’m up to in the capital. (Still no luck with my fuemigo delivery service... but more about that some other time.)

    The capital is HUGE. Omele Lupé, I can't believe you used to live here! I've already gotten lost a couple times... oops. Everything is ginormous, and there are a ton of people. I've seen so many things and learned a bunch of new ways to use the axiomata, too!

    At first, I was worried about finding a place to stay, but a super kind family took me in! They're earth elementalists and use the axiomata to make ceramics. Isn't that amazing? They're letting me stay in their spare room for free as long as I help them with chores in their ceramics shop. Good thing I’ve got lots of practice helping people!

    Even though Ixaocan is so different from our cozy village, there are some things that remind me of home, too. All the people in my neighborhood are really friendly and welcoming. Almost like a family! And there's a daily market nearby with food that tastes almost like Mamá’s! Almost.

    I keep getting this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, though. Kind of like when I was back with the pakiti, and they were all play-hunting and tracking me through the forest, but I feel it... here? I mean, it's probably just me getting used to my new life, right?

    Anyway, I'll be facing the Vidalion any day now! Until then, I'm gonna keep training and exploring.

    Wish me luck!

    Love you all!

    Milio, the Vidalion's Next Challenger




  5. The Meaning in Misery

    The Meaning in Misery

    John O’Bryan

    It was midday on the island, and Vex was just emerging from her previous night’s sleep. The Black Mist that blanketed the Shadow Isles was especially thick today, creating an atmosphere of despondency that suited her perfectly.

    The grisly host of specters surrounding her released a chorus of blood-curdling shrieks and hisses, hoping she might be in the mood to engage them on this exceptionally dismal day.

    “You wanna play again?” Vex sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it. But someone else has to be the gravedigger this time.”

    From her back, Vex heard her shadow volunteering.

    “Shadow, if you’re gravedigger, that means I have to be gravedigger too.”

    Shadow looked at her with sad, hopeful eyes.

    “Whatever. Even though this is completely stupid, me and Shadow will be gravedigger. Everyone else, go die.”

    Covering its eyes with its hands, Shadow began to count to one hundred as the host of specters scattered to find hiding places in the rocks and ruins that dotted the island.

    Vex, her eyes uncovered, could see something peculiar bobbing through the haze in the distance. It looked like... a pair of pointy ears?

    “Small fry!” called a voice from just beneath the ears. “Are you here, yordling?”

    “Ohhhh no,” said Vex in dismay. “Tell me that’s not...”

    The pointy ears continued bobbing toward her until, at last, the figure beneath them came into view. An older yordle stood before Vex, his arms splayed in excitement.

    “There you are, yordling!” he said.

    Vex’s eyes narrowed contemptuously at the familiar face. “Uncle Milty, what are you doing here?”

    “What do you mean? Can’t a grown yordle pay a visit to his small fry?” said Uncle Milty with unrelenting cheer.

    “Don’t call me that.”

    Vex noticed her spectral peers were beginning to emerge from their hiding places, curious about the new visitor.

    “I’m kinda busy,” Vex said to her uncle. “Can you just tell me what you want and get outta here?”

    Uncle Milty’s face melted, its stiff, resilient smile changing to a grave look of concern. “Very well. I won’t lie to you, small fry—it’s your parents.”

    Vex’s eyes rolled so hard they nearly fell from their sockets. “Ughhhhh, what about ‘em?”

    Why did Uncle Milty even care what her parents thought? He wasn't her real uncle, anyway.

    “They’d never tell you this, but... they’re worried sick about you!” said Uncle Milty. “You’re off living in some... drab stinkhole. Cavorting with ghosts. You have to come home.”

    “No. Absolutely not.”

    “Please, small fry.”

    “No.”

    “Just for a visit? Just to show them you’re okay.”

    “No.”

    “Just a quick one? Pop in and pop out.”

    “NO. Now get lost,” said Vex.

    Uncle Milty’s brow furrowed at her resistance. A moment later, his beaming smile returned, and a twinkle sparked in his eye.

    “Well, I can see there’s only one thing to do here…” said the old yordle. He wiggled his fingertips, moving his hands in an arc around his body. A large rainbow portal opened before him. “Let’s not tarry. Your parents are just about to sit down for tea. We can join them if we hurry!”

    Vex winced as Uncle Milty pulled her toward the magic gateway. Thinking quickly, she raised her hand, summoning a thick, black shadow at their feet, snuffing out the brightly colored portal. “If you think I’m walking through that thing, you’re even more clueless than I thought.”

    Uncle Milty raised one of his bushy eyebrows high in befuddlement. “But—small fry, look around you. This place is for... dead things.”

    “Duh. That’s why I’m here,” said Vex. “People suck. Yordles really suck. Colors make me wanna puke. And this place has none of those things.”

    Uncle Milty stammered, stunned by his niece’s words. Then realization began to wash over him, and the twinkle returned to his eye. “Ohhhh, I know what this is. You’ve been away from the Bandlewood for too long! You’ve lost your yordle spirit. All you need is a couple days back home, and you’ll be right as rose hips!”

    He wiggled his fingers, conjuring the rainbow portal once more.

    Vex felt the very bottom fall out of her soul as she realized her eternal plight: she was a yordle, would always be a yordle, and would forever be tormented by their undying enthusiasm.

    Unless...

    A thought popped into Vex’s mind. She nearly smiled as she realized it just might be the solution to this torture. She quickly suppressed the smile and summoned her true malaise, full strength, and gazed at the ground. “What’s the point, Uncle Milty?”

    “What’s the point of what, Vexy?”

    “All of it. Bandle City, yordles... life?” She looked up from the ground to see her uncle’s smile fading.

    “The point of life?” he asked. “Uhhhnnn... isn’t it...”

    Seeing her uncle at a loss for words, Vex eagerly answered the question for him. “I mean, we’re all just random wads of magic. Who we are, what we do, who our family is—we don’t decide any of it. We’re all just drifting by like dead leaves with no control over anything.”

    A strange look of determination came over Uncle Milty. “Oh, I don’t think that’s true. What about making people happy? We all have the ability to do that!”

    “I guess. But their happiness never really lasts, does it?”

    Vex could feel her words knock the wind out of Uncle Milty’s sails as his long, perky ears began to droop.

    “It’s like everything else in this world,” she continued. “Happiness, birds, trees, bugs… rainbows—they all fade away. I guess you could say that’s their purpose. They hang around for a few minutes, and then die. Just ask all these chumps here.”

    Vex motioned toward her spectral friends, who were poking their gruesome, withered faces out from their hiding spots. When she turned back to her uncle, she could barely see the edges of a frown forming on his lips.

    “I guess I never… thought of it quite that way,” said her uncle.

    Vex reached into her bottomless well of despair, hoping to drive the stake of misery deeper into his heart. “I know it’s a downer, but the whole point of life… is death.”

    “Death?” whimpered Uncle Milty.

    “Yeah. And the worst part of it all? Yordles don’t even get to do that. We just go on forever. Doomed to a stupid, magical, pointless existence.”

    Uncle Milty’s lip quivered. Tears that shimmered like diamonds trickled from his eyes. The rainbow portal behind him evaporated into the surrounding darkness.

    “That’s... so... awful,” he cried.

    “Right?” said Vex.

    Suddenly, Uncle Milty erupted in uncontrolled sobs. They came like thunder, scaring off even the ghastliest of the wraiths lingering nearby.

    As her uncle ran away crying, Vex breathed a deep sigh of relief, the burden of intrusive cheer no longer weighing on her tiny, slouching shoulders. “Okay,” she said, “you can all come out now.”

    One by one, her spectral comrades emerged from the rocks and ruins around her.

    “One more game,” said Vex. “And sure, why not—I’ll be the gravedigger.”

  6. Lullaby

    Lullaby

    It had been a weeklong sort of day.

    For Ekko, this was both literal and metaphorical. Everything went wrong and it took forever to put it back just right. First, Ajuna had nearly gotten himself killed trying to climb Old Hungry. The younger boy wanted so desperately to be like Ekko that he vaulted up the side of the clockwork tower at the heart of the sump before any of their friends could stop him. It was the first tricky jump that nearly did the kid in. Good thing Ekko had triggered his Z-Drive. Eighteen times he heard the blood-curdling scream of the boy falling to his death before he figured out how and where to arrest the fall and save his life.

    Then, while pillaging a scrap heap with ties to Clan Ferros for bits of tech, a particularly aggressive gang of vigilnauts surrounded him. Big ones, too, covered in augments that made the ugly even uglier. Ekko was surprised at their speed, but less surprised at how they shot to kill. Pilties and their backup didn’t care about the lives of sumpsnipes like him. Good thing the Z-Drive existed to get him out of seemingly inescapable encounters like that one. After a few dozen rewinds, he changed tack and pulled out his latest toy: the Flashbinder. It was meant to explode in a dazzling flash and pull anything not bolted down in toward its center.

    But the Flashbinder didn’t work. Well, at least not as intended. It exploded. And that’s when things got interesting. Unlike most of Ekko’s inventions that exploded, the blue-hot magical detonation froze in mid blast. Columns of billowing blue energy fanned out from the epicenter. Bits of the disc’s shrapnel twisted at a snail’s pace along what, at normal explosion velocity, would be a deadly trajectory. Even the spherical blinding flash itself was frozen in space.

    And then it got even more interesting. The explosion imploded, reforming itself into the palm-sized Flashbinder, and rewound back toward Ekko, landing square in his palm, as cold as the wind.

    Cool, Ekko thought. He rewound the moment so he could throw it at the vigilnauts a few more times. For science, of course.

    When Ekko finally got home, his body was tired, but his mind was alert. The apartment was functional – the furniture sparse and with little flourish. Ekko’s room was a little curtained-off nook filled with discarded books, bits of scavenged technology, and hiding spots for the Z-Drive and Flashbinder. Today was one of the rare days both his parents would be home early, and he had something to tell them.

    “Mom, Dad.” He practiced to his reflection, which stared back at him from the Z-Drive’s shiny cylindrical surface. “I’m not going to apply to any of the Uppside clans or a snooty Piltie school. I’m staying here with you and my friends. I’ll never turn my back on Zaun.”

    The words were filled with the confidence that comes with being alone in an empty apartment, with only walls and reflections to respond. And their response was silence.

    He heard the jingle of the keys, muffled by the front door. Without a second to spare, Ekko tucked his Z-Drive under the table and draped a black cloth over it. He didn’t want them worrying about his escapades with an unstable hextech time-manipulation device.

    The door opened and Ekko’s parents returned for the first time that night. They looked like strangers to their own son, their jobs aging them even more in the weeks since he’d seen them last together. Their routine was predictable. They’d shuffle home, supply a meager meal purchased with the day’s wages, save the rest of the money for taxes and bribes, then fall asleep in their chairs, chins resting on chests, until Ekko removed their workboots and helped them into their beds.

    The bags under their eyes carried enough weight to pull their heads down. Tucked under his mother’s arm was a small paper-wrapped bundle, bound at the ends with twine.

    “Hello, my little genius.” His mother expended energy she couldn't afford in an attempt to make the words come alive. Yet her expression in that moment of lightness when she saw her son sitting at the table, waiting, was something no one could fake.

    “Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad.” The three of them hadn’t sat at a table as a family in such a long time. He quietly chided himself for not saying something substantial.

    His father beamed with pride; then he mock-scowled as he brushed his fingers through his son’s mohawk. Ekko struggled to remember a time when his father didn’t look so old, before the prematurely thinning hair and the deep wrinkles in his brow.

    “I thought I told you to cut that hair,” his father said. “It’ll make you stand out in the Piltover academies too much. The Factorywood’s the only place you can look like that. They’ll take anyone. And you are not anyone. How are your applications coming?”

    This was the moment. Ekko felt the words he’d practiced swimming up to be spoken. The hope in his father’s eyes gave him pause.

    His mother filled that empty moment before Ekko could.

    “We have a treat for you.” She set the brown parcel down on the table. They pulled their chairs close to watch as Ekko reached over and untied the knotted twine, straightened both strings, and laid them next to him. He unraveled the butcher paper without a single rip. In the center lay a small loaf of fragrant sweetbread, its crust glazed with honey and candied nuts. The cake was from Elline. She made the finest pastries in all of Zaun, and charged a pretty penny for them too. Ekko and his friends often pilfered her desserts from the rich folk who paid the hefty price without even a tiny hesitation.

    Ekko’s head shot up to see his parents’ reaction. Their eyes were beaming. “This is too much,” he said. “We need meat and real supper, not sweets.”

    “We would never forget your name day,” his father said with a chuckle. “Looks like you did, though.”

    Ekko had completely lost track of what day it really was. Still, the gift was too extravagant. Especially since he was about to shatter their hopes for him. Guilt rose in his throat. “The landlord’ll have our heads if we’re late with rent again.”

    “Let us worry about that. You deserve something nice,” his mother said. “Go on, you can have cake for dinner once a year.”

    “What are you going to eat?”

    “I’m not hungry,” she said.

    “I ate at work,” his father lied. “Cheese and meats from Piltover. Real nice stuff.”

    They watched Ekko take a tiny bite of the cake. It was sweet and buttery and the crumbs stuck to his fingers. It was so rich, the taste stuck to his tongue. Ekko went to divide the cake into three pieces, but his mother shook her head. Her soft voice hummed the name day song’s playful melody and he knew they wouldn’t partake. It was his parents’ gift to him.

    His father would have joined in singing the name day song if he hadn’t already fallen asleep, slumped in his chair, chin dropping to his chest. Ekko glanced over to his mother, her eyes fluttered closed as the melody was swallowed by her own encroaching slumber.

    One future Ekko briefly considered was the Factorywood life and barely living wages for some other city’s benefit, for someone else’s glory. He couldn’t stomach the thought. He remembered fragments of conversations, snippets heard through the filter of infant ears, of his parents’ whispered dreams of inventions, and entrance to the clans. Ideas they hoped would change the world and contribute to a future unwritten by the birth of their son. Ekko knew they saw him as their only hope. But he loved life in Zaun. If he did as they wished, who would take care of them or his friends?

    He couldn’t dash their dreams. Not tonight, on his name day. Maybe tomorrow.

    Ekko didn’t finish his cake beyond the first bite. Instead he primed his Z-Drive. His home shattered into swirling eddies of colored dust. The thrum of the everyday fell to absolute silence. The moment splintered and encircled him in a vortex of light.

    When the fragments of the future reassembled into the past, Ekko’s parents were coming home for the second time that night. It would be followed by a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and so on.

    Each time he went back, Ekko didn’t change a single thing; the light in his mother’s eyes, his father’s proud smile as he nodded off. But Ekko fought the edges of sleep to hold onto those stolen moments forever, until finally, he let his mother’s soft voice, and the warmth of their little apartment lull him to sleep.

    It had been a weeklong sort of day.

  7. The Girl Who Came Back

    The Girl Who Came Back

    Michael McCarthy

    “Listen to me,” I tell the little girl who found me here, beside the pit. “I need you to hear me. There isn’t much time.”

    She leans forward, without a hint of fear in her eyes. “Tell me what to do.”

    I like her. A slight smile breaks across my face, for the first time in what seems like… forever. “Not this,” I say, gesturing to the arrow gripped in her hand. She holds it like a spear.

    I was only a child when the Void took me from my family, so I didn’t know any better either. But the rest of them, they were so careless. Sacrifices, offerings, tributes—whatever you want to call them, they were never going to work. It isn’t some god, appeased by gifts and prayers. It just wants to devour everything.

    “You want to kill it? You want to destroy it?” I ask her.

    She nods.

    “Then starve it.”

    The sensation of needles on my flesh grows stronger, as if in response to these words. The threatening presence is closing in around us, and my second skin constricts, pulling taut as a bow. I take one last deep breath before they come.

    The sand begins to shift, puckering and falling away, like in an hourglass. Eerie pulses of light filter into the sky, as the construct-creatures heave themselves up into the Shuriman night, screeching and drooling. I steady myself, charging the energy inside my shoulder pods.

    I grit my teeth, and release it.

    Bright blooms of heat and pain find their targets quickly, raining down, stopping the creatures in their tracks, flinging them aside. The air is filled with an acid reek, and the hiss of melting chitin.

    Soon there is nothing left of them. I wait for the needles’ itch to stop, but it doesn’t.

    The girl is crouched beside me, ready. She probably cannot understand what she is seeing.

    “Does it hurt?” she whispers, her hand reaching out for the glowing scales on my arm.

    I pull back reflexively. She doesn’t even flinch.

    “Sometimes,” I confess.

    Not too far away, her village sleeps on unaware, for the most part. Curiosity had no doubt gotten the better of this little girl. So many stories, fables both frightening and fantastical. The voidling beasts hunting in the dead of night, calling to one another.

    She just wanted to see for herself. See what lurks beyond the rocks, see the thing her people both fear and adore at the same time.

    My skin tightens again. The needles, the constant itch…

    I blink. “I’m sorry, you didn’t tell me your name.”

    She stands up proudly, still brandishing the arrow. “I’m Illi. I came to protect my family from the monster.” She is no more than ten years of age.

    “Well, Illi—sometimes running is the best thing to do.”

    “But you don’t run,” she says, narrowing her eyes, “do you?”

    A clever one, this girl. I shake my head. “Not anymore.”

    “Then I won’t either!” Illi proclaims. Brave as well.

    She has no idea what they’re dealing with. None of them do. All these things her people have done to rid themselves of the creatures, they were just ringing the dinner bell.

    “You need to tell them, Illi. You need to make them understand. No more dancing beneath the new moon. And no more animals tied to stakes. The Void has no mercy to offer—it feeds or it dies.”

    The day I came to understand this, was when I knew I had a chance. Maybe that’s why I survive, while so many others perish.

    But survival always has its price. Ever since I found my way back, I’ve been paying it.

    “Look…” the girl whispers. “They are coming to find us.”

    I don’t have to look. I knew they would come. By instinct, the carapace draws over my face. Illi stares up at me.

    “Don’t be frightened,” I say to her in a voice now so twisted and monstrous, it could have the opposite meaning.

    “Of what?” she asks. I find myself wearing a smile she cannot see.

    There are only a handful of people who’ve ever seen me in the flesh, or whatever it is that now covers my body. All but two of them are dead.

    Illi’s people appear to be capable hunters. Only the capable live out here. I can see where she got her bravery. Their torches twinkle in the night.

    “Papa!” she calls out to the searching villagers, without warning me. “I found her! The girl who came back!”

    They’re heading toward us now, weapons at the ready, fire in their eyes. “Illi!” her father yells, nocking an arrow to his bow. “Get away from that... thing!

    She looks up at me again, confused. For every little girl like Illi, there are ten others who would run the other way. Or worse. I know what most people say about me. I’ve seen their fear scrawled across mud walls, scratched into the canyon rocks.

    Beware the girl who came back a monster.

    They don’t know a thing about me. To them, I’m just something they do not want to face—a living, walking, fighting embodiment of what they fear most. I guess that’s why they added the mark to my name.

    Ten years ago, I was only Kaisa—very much like Illi, hopeful about a future as limitless as the stars in the night sky. That future died the day the Void dragged me down.

    The needles are back. Illi releases my hand just as my luminous weapons materialize over my arms. “Go to him,” I tell her. “Go to your father.”

    “Illi, run!” her father pleads. He draws back his bowstring with trembling hands.

    “No!” she yells, turning to me. “I don’t run anymore.”

    I usher her forwards, keeping my eyes trained on the villagers. “No, Illi, you were born a fighter. They will need you.”

    After a few steps, she turns back. “What do I tell them?”

    “Tell them... Tell them to be ready.”

    The Void has taken so much from me, but I refuse to let it take everything. These moments, where kindness and humanity shine through, where innocence and trust extinguish fear—they fill me with hope that we can defeat the rivers of timeless poison that flow beneath the world.

    The first time I escaped the abyss, I did it for myself.

    Maybe one day, it will be for them.

  8. With the Flowers

    With the Flowers

    Matt Dunn

    The humidity of Tonnika market and the crowd’s fragrant odor usually rushed buyers into hasty decisions, but Hatilly stood transfixed. Her eyes had fallen upon the strange, tangled bud encased with red withered leaves, a specimen she had never seen before.

    “You don’t want that,” the old florist said. “It’s a rare Night-Blooming Zychid. Plucked from the southern jungles, where sunlight never touches the forest floor. It’s more for potion brewers or alchemists…”

    The merchant directed her gaze to a bouquet of Sapphire Roses. “Now, these are from fair Ionia. Adapted them to our robust Kumangra soil myself… Or perhaps some Pearls of the Moon?”

    Hatilly was not swayed. Sapphire Roses and Pearls of the Moon flashed their colors for any eyes to see. This zychid held exotic potential like the Kraken Lilies along the Serpentine Delta, or Parethan Corpse Tulips. Rare flowerings were precisely her and Cazworth’s type of indulgence.

    “I’ll take the zychid.”

    The florist welcomed the gold pressed into his palm, despite the doubt scrawled across his face. He deftly cradled the bud in a nest of damp silk, and planted the parcel into Hatilly’s waiting hands. She noticed the aerial rootlets clinging to a shard of something hard and chalk-white.

    “What’s this?”

    “Zychids cling to foreign objects,” the merchant said. “That one’s grafted to a bit of bone.”




    Cazworth was bent over his antique desk, scribbling notes in the margins of his ledger by candlelight. He didn’t look up until Hatilly set the ceramic upon his table. The strange zychid, half buried in a mound of wetted soil, already seemed happy, its reds and greens vibrant and slick with life.

    “A budding gift for a blooming businessman.” She planted a kiss on Cazworth’s cheek, feeling clever. He smiled and turned to examine the specimen.

    “When you said you needed flowers to brighten the place up, I assumed they’d be colorful.” Cazworth jabbed the plant with his quill. “What is this curious fellow?”

    “A most extravagant gift to celebrate the opening of the upper Kumangra’s newest trading supplier… Cazworth’s Exotic Goods.”

    Cazworth pulled his wife onto his lap.

    “Well, if you say this is a rarity indeed, then we are in for a treat.”

    He kissed her sweetly. A single petal opened up, unfolding into the darkening room.

    “It’s beginning,” Hatilly said. “Will you be up all night?”

    “Most likely. There are still several invoices that need rubber stamping—the partners still have concerns about the shipping lanes…”

    Hatilly yawned.

    “Don’t let me bore you, dear wife. Run along to bed. I’ll wake you when it starts to flower.”

    “Thank you, sweet husband.”




    Hatilly awoke to a creeping sensation on her ankle.

    Infernal skitter-ants were everywhere, this near to the jungle. She kicked it away. Sleepily blinking, she turned to the empty pillow next to her. Cazworth hadn’t come to bed.

    The nagging insect was undaunted, and was crawling further up her shin. She flung off the bedsheets and saw that there was no insect, but rather a tendril vine weaving through her toes, entangling her ankle, and twining around her leg.

    Panic shoved sleep from her mind.

    She kicked but could not get the green and red shoots to release her leg. They tightened, biting into her flesh. She pried them off with her fingernails. Her hands bled from thorny splinters.

    The snaking stalks wound a trail from under the bed chamber door, where they sprouted aerial rootlets to climb the bed frame. Her mind immediately flashed to Cazworth.

    Armed with a flickering lantern and a pair of sewing shears, Hatilly followed the vines through the hallway of their manse. Their circumference widened the closer she stepped toward its source, which she now saw was in Cazworth’s study.

    The door took several tries to open. Hatilly hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this.

    The room was covered, floor to ceiling, with floral growth. A riot of obscene colors danced in her lantern’s flicker. Exotic bulbs dangled from the walls, their finger-like leaves undulating as if drawing breath. Flowers seemed to mock her through the darkness, flashing their rainbow petals like signal fires. All had sprouted from a singular dark nexus: an enormous closed flower bud, which lay on the fainting couch by the fireplace, where Hatilly herself often read while Cazworth worked. Bits of ceramic and soil lay strewn about. The zychid had outgrown its habitat.

    All manner of protrusion crept from its pulsating petals. Everything in Hatilly’s mind screamed for her to flee her home, put it to the torch, and burn that hideous bouquet. But not without Cazworth. Vines twisted around the legs of the chair, the legs of the study table, the legs of…

    Her husband.

    Still sitting in his chair, Cazworth was cocooned from head to toe by a writhing mass of leaves. Hatilly reached his side, bare feet slipping on the foliage underfoot. She cut frantically at the strangling vines, but each snip of the shears only made them tighten their grip and produce little thorns that pierced her and her husband. Blood trickled out. Where the drops landed, zychid blossoms burst forward to feed.

    Hatilly freed one of Cazworth’s hands—it was pale, and cold to the touch.

    A stench filled the air, like a rotting corpse. With tears in her eyes, she turned her head toward the fainting couch, where the zychid bud was flowering.

    The stench grew worse. Hatilly retched. The gargantuan petals peeled backward in colorful layers, revealing oblong petals of striking scarlet and deep green, garlanded in black tips, revealing a woman in place of the stamen. Her hair was red as blood. Her flesh like leaves. Vines and petals wreathed her in deadly beauty. Her eyes opened. They reminded Hatilly of a panther’s—narrow irises seeing only prey.

    The woman who blossomed from the flower arose.

    Hatilly clutched the shears like a dagger.

    “You wish to prune me already?” the thing said, its deep voice ensnaring Hatilly.

    “What are you?”

    “The bloom you longed to witness.”

    The stench turned. Gone was the reek of death.

    Hatilly inhaled sweet fragrances—orange blossoms, the aroma of Sapphire Roses, the fruity scent of Kraken Lilies, the musk of Pearls of the Moon, the delicate hints of wisteria. There were more, secret flowers, but she somehow knew their names—they smelled of colors her eyes never saw. A name formed in Hatilly’s mind…

    Zyra.

    “Thank you for the lovely garden,” Zyra said, nodding toward Cazworth’s remains. “You tended me well, but we need more sustenance. To make the soil here more… fertile.”

    Hatilly saw visions of a world covered by a bouquet of colorful death. It was a beautiful riot of hues, soft and fluttering, choking cities. There were no graves, no war, no money… Hatilly was breathless. She didn’t even feel the vines pull her down, nor the thorns bury themselves in her flesh, rending her skin, spilling her blood.

    “Step into the garden that ever grows…” Zyra whispered through the stems and petals. “Death blossoms, and you don’t want to miss the colors, do you?”

    Hatilly did not respond, for she was with the flowers.

  9. Bombs: A Tribute

    Bombs: A Tribute

    Abigail Harvey

    Okay, Zaun. I’m here, I’m fuzzy, and I’m ready to explode stuff.

    All that time up there in Piltover serving high-quality pyrotechnics to ungrateful snoots, Heimerdinger making me hide behind that dumb glamour, never allowed to do what I want... It’s left me with a thirst for KA-BOOM!

    But was Jinx right? Is the gloomy, stinking undercity teeming with whizz-bang potential?

    Let’s see what we’ve got here. What am I looking at? Nondescript building, nondescript building, slightly bigger nondescript building, an explosives factory, another nondescript building, nondes—WAIT, WHAT?

    Explosives factory?! Dreams can come true!

    I’m not crying. That’s just the Zaun Gray gettin’ all up in my eyes.

    Man, the things they must have in there... But it looks so normal. Dull, even. No flashing lights, no sparkling signs... just a rundown pile of bricks and ironwork. It’s like no one even cares how bombs are made. And it’s quiet... GASP! They must have it soundproofed because of all the live bomb testing! I’ve gotta get in there! Ooh, I bet there’s a super secret passageway or maybe you have to blow the front wall off or—

    Oh, wait, there’s the door.

    Hang on, what’s this?

    BUILDING NO LONGER IN USE

    KEEP OUT

    You’ve gotta be kidding me! Why? How? How could this sacred place no longer be in use? How could anyone be so disrespectful of the creation of lovely explosives and shut it down forever and—what is that noise?

    Huh, I’m pretty sure locks aren’t supposed to be all mangled like that. Looks like this door’s been busted open. Let me poke my head around...

    I appear to be looking at a pair of disgruntled young humans. Not bombs. Humans. In an empty room. I may be losing interest. They haven’t seen me, at least.

    “This sucks,” one of them says. He looks as disappointed as I feel. “You said this place was full of bombs. Well, we’ve searched every corner, and there’s nothing here!”

    Stop it now, kid. This hurts.

    The other one kicks over an empty crate. “How was I supposed to know they cleared it out?!”

    Did neither of them read the sign? I swear, humans never look—

    “Whatever,” the first one sighs. Whoa. I wasn’t done thinking my thought. Rude. “I’m bored. Let’s go.”

    Not before me—I’m not ready to have my fur ruffled today. See ya, kids!

    Man, I can’t believe this. My first venture out in the undercity and I find a bomb factory! Entirely committed to making bombs! That could’ve been home. But no, instead it was the home of shattered dreams.

    I’ve gotta do something about this. Yeah. Yes. That’s it. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what it was made for...

    I’M GONNA FILL THAT PLACE WITH BOMBS!


    Oh, hey! Welcome to my lab. Well, Jinx’s lab. She’s letting me crash here while I find my feet in Zaun. She thinks I only exist in her head, so I guess I’m not taking up too much room. Besides, with all her scrap heaps and bits of junk everywhere, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only thing with fur running around this place.

    What, these? Just some hexplosives I’m working on. My own design, of course.

    These bad boys are gonna give that old factory the send-off it deserves. Let it go out with some dignity.

    I can’t leave it as I found it earlier, waiting for another innocent incendiary enthusiast to come along, get them all excited, and then rip their heart right out without so much as a spark. It was a real emotional rollercoaster.

    No, I’ll spruce the place up with my own devices, and then they’re gonna go off one after the other like little fireworks. Flash! Bang! Tssss! Flash! Bang! Tssss! Over and over until the whole place crumbles down in a huge explodey mess.

    I call them “Chain Smokers”.

    Almost done. I just take this bit here, and this thing here, and... Perfection.

    Let’s go blow stuff up!


    Okay, I’m back in the building. Come on, “KEEP OUT” sign, you had one job.

    My little Chain Smokers are all laid out, ready to show their papa what they can do.

    But Ziggs, I hear you say, how are you going to appreciate the products of all your talents if you can’t see them in action? My thoughts exactly. So I’ve got an extra treat for us all: I’m gonna blow the front wall off first!

    This big one here’s the Party Popper, and it’s going to create the ultimate peephole!

    Alrighty, time to push the button! Three... two... one... Big baddaboom!

    ...in sixty seconds.

    What? I’ve gotta get out of here first—I don’t want to blow myself up!


    Come on, come on, come on, I’m ready now! Got this nice pile of junk to hide behind. Perfect viewing distance. And... explode!

    Nope. Forty seconds left. Turns out crossing the street doesn’t take that long.

    Hey, why did the yordle cross—Oh no, what’re those kids doing back here?! They’re gonna get themselves a faceful of wall if they don’t move soon. Move. Move!

    They’re not moving. They’re spray painting the wall. For the love of...

    “Hey!” I call from behind the junkpile. “You kids! Get away from there!”

    Yeah, that got their attention. A real Ziggs, out in the wild. They’re still standing there, though.

    “What? You never seen a yordle before? Seriously, though, you need to move! You’re gonna get hurt!”

    Are they...? They are! They’re laughing at me! Well, maybe I’ll just leave them to get exploded, after all! Jinx sure would.

    Ohhhhhh, right. Jinx is a psychopath.

    Ah! Ten seconds!

    And I’m running. I’m running straight at those little sump-punks. Better to be tackled by a yordle than crushed by a building. That’s what I always say.

    They’re not laughing anymore. The bigger one’s opening its mouth. “What’re you do—”

    “No time! Move!”

    BOOM!

    We hit the other side of the street just as the wall goes up.

    Yes! Bombs away!

    Flash! Bang! Tssss! Flash! Bang! Tssss!

    It’s mesmerising. Little lightning bolts striking every surface. Bricks tumbling down. Smoke pouring out, clouding all the locals who’ve come out to watch.

    Flash! Bang! Tssss!

    Wait, why are all these people staring at me instead of my art?

    Flash! Bang! Tssss!

    The roof is now completely caved in. It’s magical. No, I told you before, it’s the Gray! I’m not crying.

    Flash! Bang! Tssss! Flash! Bang! Tsssssssss.

    Haha! Yes! I can’t help it. I’m doing my happy dance. That was perfect!

    Those two kids are looking at me like I just slapped their grandmother. I guess Zaunites are more used to collapsing buildings than gleeful furballs.

    Whatever. I’m going in for a closer look.

    My Chain Smokers performed just as they should; what was once a solid structure is now a blackened heap of rubble. That useless “KEEP OUT” sign is poking out from under a smashed roof tile. I’m gonna pick it up, a little souvenir for the lab.

    Flash! Bang!

    Gah! One of those sneaky little hexplosives waited for me to have a front-row seat. I think I’m on fire but—

    Wheeeeeee!

    —I’m flying through the air—

    “Aaaaahahahahahaaaa!”

    —trailing smoke—

    “Oh, it burns! And tickles! But mostly burns! Hahahahahaha!”

    —and all eyes are on this furry rocket.

    “See, kids? Now that’s how you make bombs!”

  10. Shuriman Trash

    Shuriman Trash

    Amanda Jeffrey

    So I was walking through this little plaza off the library district in Nashramae—super dusty, flagstones older than empires, and usually pretty quiet. Having just out-negotiated those dumb human merchants in the Grand Marketplace, I was feeling good. I’d been all “You want how much for that teapot?!” and “There’s no way that’s an authentic Ascended-age mace with that iconography!”

    But a whole day around mortals was enough for me. If I had to hear another cheery “Water and shade to you!” greeting, I was gonna get heated.

    Anyway, I’d almost gotten my cart full of treasure to my stall, thinking how great it’d be to get back in my junkyard, when whammo! I was flat on my backside.

    I jumped back on my feet in a heartbeat, surrounded by mortals again. But these were younger humans, a bunch of ’em, and most of ’em were laughing at the scrawny kid who’d slammed into me and my cart. He was trying to pick himself up off the ground and onto the sorriest excuse for a mech I’d ever seen—a board with wheels—and he wasn’t laughing. Just kept apologizing.

    “Sorry, Obujan!”

    I said, “Do I look like your grandfather?” This kid didn’t have my winning smile, or my razor-sharp cheekbones, and his ears weren’t even furry, so there was barely any family resemblance.

    Anyway, the laughing kids had a ringleader: a nasty-looking boy wearing an oversized Noxian-style tunic and iron-capped boots. He said, “Where d’you think you’re rolling, armadillo-bug?”

    My hackles went up until I realized he was talking to the scrawny kid. But still, that’s a pretty mean thing to say!

    This ringleader didn’t stop there. He was all, “You’re Shuriman trash, Anaktu. You’re ugly and you can’t even walk.” He pointed at my broken cart. “The empire doesn’t need useless things. We should throw you with the rest of the garbage on this old man’s pile of junk.”

    Now I was seeing red. Steam right outta my ears. So I got up in the big bully’s face—well, up in his knees—and I said, “Hey, kid. You better apologize.”

    He scoffed with his stupid face, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with, old man. I’m Kesu Rance. Son of Governor Rance! Walk away, or we’ll clear this plaza of all its trash!”

    Of course, I walked.

    I mentioned my stall, right? Shuttered, overlooked, and full of bric-a-brac that’s way too good to ever sell to humans. It’s a cover—a front—for where the portal back home appears once I set things up juuuuust right.

    So I wasn’t walking away from this bully. I was walking to my stall. Not to escape, obviously—I was walking to an especially large, tarpaulin-covered, metallic form…

    Meanwhile, Kesu was so busy monologuing to his club-wielding amateur thugs about being the strong future of Shurima that he didn’t even notice me until I was blocking out the sun from the cockpit of the sweetest of bipedal mechs, my beloved Tristy.

    Walker and shade to you, Kesu.”

    Oh, his face! Kid looked like I’d harpooned him!

    I hadn’t, of course. That comes later.

    Now, I’m an unbiased storyteller, so I’ll mention Tristy might have had an ever-so-slight malfunction around this point. Barely worth noting, really, but in the interest of tellin’ you everything, there was… a hiccup. A hesitation. A stoppage.

    Tristy and me were the definition of intimidating, but that hitch was making some of those older kids bold, and one of them bashed my mech’s leg with a club! “You’re just a dumb old man with a dirty pile of junk. There’s only one of you against all of us,” she said, swinging her hand to indicate about a dozen armed, angry-looking snots.

    And then who should roll up—still piloting the worst mech ever—but the scrawny kid, Anaktu.

    While I applied percussive maintenance to Tristy’s precision mechanisms, I noticed he’d grabbed the “one hundred percent authentic” Ascended-age mace from my cart. I’d have to have a chat about personal property with my “grandson” later.

    Anyway, Anaktu yelled, “He’s not alone!”

    But Kesu just laughed and tried to kick him! The little guy pivoted on his rolling board and swept the mace under Kesu’s other leg, and whack! The bully went down hard.

    With a shout, Anaktu took the fight to the rest of ’em. Surprised ’em, too, because within seconds, he’d gotten two big ones backed into a corner. Too bad he didn’t see Kesu coming at him from behind with the torn-off handle of my cart, ready to clonk him.

    But Anaktu wasn’t alone either.

    Tristy sprang back to life, and bam! I was zooming across the plaza. We skidded to a stop, kicking up dust, and I pulled the trigger.

    Zap!

    Remember that harpoon I mentioned? Yeah, I electro-harpooned that cart handle mid-swing. I’d like to see a certain other yordle pull off a demonstration of extreme marksmanship like that!

    And Kesu? He toppled into the dust. Anaktu heard the commotion and spun around. Gave me a big smile.

    Obujan!

    “Yeah, yeah, get up here,” I said, giving him a hand up to Tristy’s cockpit. “The view’s better.”

    He said something like, “You don’t have to tell me twice!” which is a pretty cool thing to say under the circumstances.

    And then Tristy went pew pew and zap zap zap, and I let Anaktu activate the flamespitter, but only to scare the bigger kids. Anyway, Tristy and me were awesome and I guess Anaktu wasn’t bad for a mortal, and soon the bullies were running away.

    Grinning, I said to Anaktu, “This is gonna be bumpy.” Then everything shook and the air was full of rockets.

    The bullies got as far as the archway over the plaza’s exit when boomboomboom the rockets slammed into the ground, flaming and zapping anything nearby, barring their escape.

    So there they were, stuck between the Equalizer’s wall of fire and Runeterra’s finest mechanized pilot. I was about to demand that apology, when Anaktu climbed down, rolled up to Kesu, and asked, “Why are you so mean?”

    Kesu whined something about his new Noxian dad, how he wanted to impress him. It was pretty boring, really.

    The rockets sputtered and died, and the other bully kids fled, leaving Kesu behind. He started to back away, too.

    Hold it!” I yelled, harpoon at the ready. “What about my apology?”

    As I pulled back my hood, he finally figured out I wasn’t just some old man, because his eyes were buggin’. He bowed down in the dust, saying, “Master Yordle, I’m sorry I threatened you—”

    But I stopped him. “You think I care about threats? Ha! Try again.”

    He said, “I’m sorry for fighting—” but I cut him off there, too.

    “Nope. I’m ready for round two if you don’t apologize for the right reason.”

    “I shouldn’t have been so mean to Anaktu—”

    You disrespected junk!” I shouted. “Junk is not garbage. It’s pure potential! Dumb people don’t see its worth, but with imagination and hard work and love, junk can be turned into the finest mech a yordle could dream of! And other stuff.”

    Kesu was obviously awestruck at my logic, because he was speechless. When he found words, he said, “Uh… I’m sorry…?”

    Thank you!”

    So I finally got the apology that junk deserved.

    Anaktu helped Kesu out of the dirt. They clasped arms and there were tears or something, but I’d had enough of mortals, so Tristy and I turned to head home.

    “Obujan, your mace! You must want it back.” Anaktu rolled over to hand it to me.

    Wouldn’t you know, a mortal who respects junk.

    “Keep it,” I said. I mean, if you can’t spoil your grandkids, what’s the point?

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