Chapter Text
“To be lost and to be found, that is the lifespan of love.”
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a wolf in tones of deep umber lay on the dewy grass of the forest, just outside the kingdom of Piltover.
This creature caught in a bear trap whined piteously as his wounded left leg ached and bled. Rain poured on his dark brown fur, wet, starving, and miserable. At least there was water from the rainfall, but nothing else. What felt like days have passed since he ran desperately through the forest from the castle that was once his home.
This wolf, cursed by a malevolent witch, was Prince Jayce Talis of Piltover, Second of His Name. A noble alpha, a brave knight, and a genius scholar, beloved by all.
Jayce laid in the muddy ground, in great pain and unable to speak, resigned to die here alone, his family never to find him.
One might wonder how Prince Jayce got here, and honestly, so did he.
In the kingdom of Piltover, an overflowing rich nation known for its inventions and neighbor to the kingdom of Zaun, two queens ruled benevolently.
Queen Cassandra Kiramman, whose family held the royal crown for centuries, with her alpha heir the Princess Caitlyn Kiramman, First of Her Name. After King Consort Tobias died due to heavy illness, the Queen grieved and thought she would never love another. Until she met the also widowed Lady Ximena, a beautiful and kind omega with a gentle heart. They fell in love, and married under the autumn sun.
Jayce was only a young boy when his father died, his mother wed to the Queen of Piltover, and became close with his new sibling Caitlyn, who was the sister he never had. Growing up as a prince, the alpha never minded nor fought Cait for being the crown heir, and enjoyed not having the weight of the throne on his shoulders. Alongside his royal duties, he threw himself into studying magic and science, the first a talent he did not naturally have yet was greatly awed by.
When their kingdom nearly went to war with Zaun at the Battle on the Bridge of Progress, Jayce helped broker a peace with Kings Vander and Silco, where Caitlyn, with their valiant crown heir Knight Princess Violet, and her one true mate, fought on the battlefield. Piltover and Zaun fostered a great peace as the two princesses fell in love and vowed themselves to each other, engaged and to be wed in a year’s time.
It was always calm before the storm. The gods above give the happiest moments before everything crashes down and changes forever. That was how Jayce felt, toasting to Caitlyn and Vi’s happiness at their engagement party, his queen mothers and Zaun’s royal family (albeit begrudgingly by Princess Jinx’s side) giving their blessings. Light and tipsy with champagne, flirting with omegas and bonding with a Zaunite inventor named Ekko who had amazing ideas on flight and time, Jayce slept that night at peace with the world…
Only to wake up disoriented, tied heavily hanging from a torturer’s rope in an impossibly dark unknown dungeon.
“Hello? Who’s there?” Jayce shouted, then immediately winced as his head pounded painfully from the volume. Dressed still in his formal regalia from the party, it hurt to remember (or not remember) if he ever made it back to his bedroom chambers. He couldn’t have drank that much last night, yet his body felt sluggish, and fear shot through his spine at the realization he had been poisoned.
Then in the darkness, the prince saw a hooded silhouette emerge, a heavy feathered cloak and a noxious glowing green all he could make out. He strengthened his voice in brave hostility, muscles tensed to fight despite his kidnapped state.
“Who are you?” To kidnap him, a known prince in his very kingdom, would be suicide. The hooded figure did not respond, only scoffed. “Where am I?” Still no response, and Jayce glared harder.
“My family will look for me. Kill me, torture me. But know whatever you do, my mothers and sister will find justice.” They would find him, or his body. He secretly hoped it wouldn’t be the latter.
The kidnapper’s green glow underneath their hood shifted as they chuckled lowly. “I don’t plan on killing you, Prince Jayce.” A raspy voice spat out his name like a foul curse, as they raised a hand and snapped their fingers. The alpha hid his flinch as green flames erupted a circle torches on the walls, illuminating the dungeon as the kidnapper lifted their hood. Sharp cropped red hair contrasted with a weathered face, green acid eyes matching a metallic nose that had tubes framing her face. A witch, or a warlock? Some kind of mage either way, to be able to summon fire so easily.
“In fact, I’m counting on your family to find you. It will make my vengeance all the sweeter.”
Vengeance?
The witch stepped closer, with a dark grin lowered to a scowl. “My name is Renni. I was once a Chembaron counsel to King Silco, before he married that monster Vander. The best in chemical magic, until that brat princess Jinx.” She circled him like a predator savoring the pause before her meal, and Jayce stayed strong, listening and waiting for something he could use to escape. “You’re likely thinking who I am and what you could have possibly done to me. But no, we have never met.”
“I knew your father though, when I was a mother once.”
Jayce’s blood ran cold.
The memories of his father flooded his thoughts. The late Lord Alejandro Talis who built a great guild when he was but a simple castle blacksmith, marrying his first love and being a stern yet impossibly kind father when Jayce was a child. Forging his first hammer together, Papa’s chuckle mixed with his own innocent happy laughter as they had a picnic in the forest, his mother nearby on a blanket taking out their packed sandwiches for lunch. The tears and sobs as they buried Papa, and a young Jayce lost someone he loved for the first time.
Renni’s expression deeply darkened further in the ominous green light, and her fists shook as she clenched them. “I had a son. Decades ago now, so young he hadn’t even presented yet. If he was an alpha like me, or a beta like his father. He would have been your age, if the fates were kinder.” She croaked.
“...My child was slaughtered by drunk Piltover soldiers, armed with swords made by your father, branded with the Talis symbol. Left bleeding to death in the dirt, on his way home.” The witch clutched her chest, the wound of his loss likely never healed, with a pained whisper. “He was a child. My only…my only son. The only good thing in this world, and all the goodness in my heart.”
Jayce didn’t know what to say, in the face of such harrowed grief. No defense he could give in his late father’s stead, other than a blacksmith never had power over what his forged weapons would be used for. Weapons cannot be unmade and they will always be used, as the Noxian Queen Ambessa once wisely said. The only thing he could say, and say sincerely, was…
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
Renni stayed silent for a moment, a far-away look in her acid eyes, before she muttered. “The dead exist in the past, and have no use for sorrow.”
A hum, as she turned her back to crouch at an iron cage on the ground that Jayce could now see. To his silent horror, a dead wolf laid there, freshly killed with blood pooling on the stone. From her cloak, the witch took out a silver dagger that glinted in the dungeon, whorling patterns on the metal as she dipped it in the wolf’s blood. The blade shockingly absorbed it, silver drinking crimson thirstily, as Renni spoke darkly.
“I killed all the soldiers responsible, of course. Not before I tortured them for months on end, until the last was elated to die. But it wasn’t enough. Your father needed to pay, yet he died before I could get my hands on him.”
As the witch stood up, she ran a hand through the dagger, green eyes filled with unsatisfied, revenge-fueled madness. “In your father’s stead, Jayce Talis, you will do. A son for a son. For this accursed kingdom, I will curse your mothers to live with the same pain of losing a child.”
Dread filled Jayce’s drugged body as she took one step forward, then another, the silver blade being played with. “This lycanthropy dagger…It was once used to change a wolf into a man, and allow him to transform between. But for you, it will turn you into a mindless mutt, never to be human again.”
The witch grinned with sick glee. “Queen Cassandra and Princess Caitlyn love to hunt, don’t they?” No, no —
Struggling against his chained bonds, Renni cackled at Jayce’s helpless attempts to escape. “The best part is, no one, not even other mages will be able to tell you’re under a curse. Once you’ve transformed, my magic will take you to the forest where you will remain a feral beast forever, and then my child can finally rest in peace.” She raised the wolf’s dagger, an executioner’s blade to a fate worse than death—
“You don’t have to do this!!”
Muffled sounds of rushed footsteps, shouts above trying to get inside—
“For my son.”
The witch drove the wolf’s dagger into Jayce’s chest, just above his heart, and he screamed as lycan blood entered his veins.
The excruciating agony as Jayce felt his bones and organs twist and break, human skin tearing away like paper and fangs sharpening through his screams.
“Where is he?!”
Piltover and Zaun soldiers alike rushing into the dungeon, led by Princess Vi, who killed the witch through a sword straight to her heart with no resistance, Renni dying with malevolent insane laughter than answering where Prince Talis was.
The shouts at the sighting of a terrifying wolf as tall to a man’s shoulders, the clothes of the missing prince around it stained with blood. The horrifying conclusion of the pieces together, and the soldiers drawing their swords to kill the creature responsible.
“No, it’s me! Vi, please it’s me, Jayce!”
Jayce remembered being frantic and desperate, trying to talk but only coming out in barks and growls, and the soldiers proclaiming him rabid. He remembered the pink of Vi’s hair and her blue eyes hardening, holding back tears as she picked up his bloodied blazer, not knowing how she would tell Caitlyn who was on the way.
Renni laid on the dungeon’s hard floor, blood escaping her mouth with every laugh, the dying light in her eyes as she could finally join her son.
Running away in the chaos, escaping the dungeon as the prince in wolf’s clothing tore through any soldier who tried to stop him, their blood metallic on his tongue, far far away —
The forest beneath his feet, panting heavily and no idea where to go, to his mothers, to Caitlyn, to anyone who could understand him please, there had to be —
When a bear trap hidden in the leaves sprung to life and clamped around his left leg, straight through bone and causing the wolf prince to screech in agony.
And so it had been days since.
Jayce tried everything. Yet he could no longer walk, and the untreated wounds of his leg were beginning to make him ill. Days blurred between rain, burning sun, and not a single soul passing by to hear his cries for help that petered off when he realized no one was coming.
How long can wolves go without food? Apparently longer than humans, though Jayce knew he was starving, and wouldn’t last forever.
In this cursed wolf form, Jayce defeatedly exhaled, and let out a mournful howl. He looked to the sky, cloudy and beautiful.
At least he still had his mind, despite the witch’s claims. Whether that be a blessing or a curse, when his lycan body becomes a feast for crows, or hunted by his very own mother and sister.
Jayce looked back on his life, and wondered what could have gone differently. Maybe if he knew better. If he was a better prince to his people. If he was a better alpha to all those who wished to court him, rather than being absorbed in science and magic books. If his mother never married the queen, or his father never died. If he was a better person, the gods wouldn’t have chosen this fate for him…dying alone and forgotten.
The wolf closed its eyes, and wished for better, and a less cruel afterlife.
Alone…
…
……
Then, when all hope seemed lost…
A scent, faint yet distinct, entered his enhanced nose.
Lavender, then…something creamy and sweet?
Weak and in pain, Jayce made a low pathetic sound, his last attempt to call for help.
The scent grew stronger, and the alpha within him stirred, dormant underneath the curse, a plea to live in his chest…
“Oh dear…”
When the wolf finally opened his eyes, crouched in front of him as the sunlight shone down on them, was the most beautiful man Jayce had ever seen.
Short curly brown hair, tussled cutely and two moles on his pale face contrasting soft pink lips and warm golden eyes looking at him with concern and curiosity. A blue red hood, and a softly glowing teardrop crystal earring on one side, and a wooden staff with a similar sapphire blue stone entwined on top.
The scent grew more complex, the lavender and sweetmilk giving way to an undercurrent of magic that tasted like fresh lightning, and the musky familiar tones of an omega.
Magic…that this man could maybe undo the curse…
The wolf prince pleadingly locked eyes with the mage, and let hope bloom in his chest.
Enjoying a quiet and peaceful existence in the forest, Viktor, once a mage of Zaun, lived as a recluse healer omega in a small cottage. But today, he chose different.
Viktor took a different path back home to his cottage today, sensing the guidance of the woods, and in turn finding a heavily injured brown wolf with hazel eyes in great pain and desolation.
“What happened here?”
Setting down his wicker basket filled with goods from the market, the mage saw the animal’s nose twitch and sniff, likely smelling the fresh meat he had bundled up. Likely the poor thing hadn’t eaten in some time. With his one free hand, Viktor slowly reached forward, but the wolf instinctually growled and immediately retracted. Then, to his surprise, the wolf whimpered as though ashamed by its behavior, and pushed its muzzle into his hand with another whine.
Viktor felt empathy and sadness course through him, noting the scar above the creature’s left eye, its gaze pleading for aid. Is it appropriate to say a wolf has puppy eyes?
This wasn’t the first time he’d found a wounded animal in the forest. Hapless hunters and desperate folk often left behind forgotten traps. Terrified rabbits, foxes, and now wolves…
“You need no longer fear. I’m here to help.”
With a gentle tap of his Hex staff, magic resonated in the air, and opened the bear trap with a sharp snap. Immediately the wolf became more alert, trying to stand up and free himself, only to stagger and groan in pain. Viktor felt the ghost of the wolf’s wound in his own disabled leg, and frowned at the sight of the bleeding, festering injury.
Cupping his hand upon the wound, ignoring the wolf’s scared yet hesitant snarl, the mage concentrated. Wisps of blue and light purple energy emanated outwards, restitching sinew and bone, replenishing blood with every second. For a moment, Viktor sensed something strange in the wolf’s blood, but the feeling went away as quickly as it came and became suddenly forgotten. “There you go.”
The strange wolf exhaled a relieved breath, as his posture relaxed, now free from pain. It took a tentative step forward, then another. Its left leg limped, but it could walk. Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle as he stood up, tapping his foot to shake away the ache from crouching.
“Looks like we match.”
Picking up his basket and resting the handle on his forearm, Viktor cinched his staff to the crook of his armpit as he took out a piece of meat he could spare. A grumble of the wolf’s stomach all but confirmed its hunger, and the omega tested the creature’s gentle nature, opening his hand with the meat in offering.
If the wolf ever wanted to attack or eat him, now was its chance to devour his fingers. Yet once again in quiet surprise, the hazel-eyed wolf as tall as his shoulders delicately licked the meat on his palm, then hungrily ate it with gusto, showing a sense of domesticity. How strange…
“Do you belong to someone, wolf?” Viktor murmured, expecting the wolf to run away now that it was free and fed. The creature stayed though, and looked around the forest with what he could only describe as a lost expression. Maybe a traveler left this stray behind, having lost him, or worse, abandoned the animal?
A low throaty sound was the only answer, and the mage could tell there was something more to this wolf than meets the eye, whatever it may be. To have a small adventure and a companion for today seemed more intriguing than his normal routine of studying magic, healing those who searched for him, and warding off alphas or princes vying for his hand.
…And if the pain in his chest ached less at the prospect of not being alone anymore, Viktor kept that feeling to himself.
“If you come with me, I can tend to your wound better. And there is more meat at home, if you’d like.”
Viktor hummed, and lightly chuckled seeing the wolf’s ears attentively prick up in attention. Did it understand him, or just the prospect of more food, the mage couldn’t ascertain yet.
The omega turned to walk further into the forest, and unknown to Viktor, the wolf once known as Prince Jayce Talis followed, determined to find a way to break the curse with the help of the mage, and return home.