#prodigal ezreal

[theabyssalmuses-a]

[ Anonymous sent in: Same ask as before but for Ezreal!! ]

Ezreal's thoughts on other musicians... Ezreal of course has respect for other musicians, but if you ask him who he likes he'd probably just answer himself. (Of course, that's not the truth- but the paparazzi really like the confidence) But, in truth, Ezreal is always scouring for new sound.

He enjoys music that goes fast and hard, and for that he's a big fan of True Damage. (It's said that recently he got to meet them, so exciting! ) Of course, Ezreal gets along with most people, so he got along with them fine- though reports say he and Ekko had particulalrly involved conversations together.

He's been a follower of K/DA for a while, but they aren't his favourite. He finds Pentakill's aesthetic cool, but their music isn't really to his taste. (But he respects them as being masters of their genre.)

Once Seraphine hit her collab with K/DA, he began following her music too!

[shadowcatgirl09]

I'm hoping Ezreal, Lux and Riven is playable in Project: L

[writerblue275]

Mask of the Black Rose! Ezreal One-Shot

Inspiration: I’m fucking feral at this splash art oh my fucking god. I love formal attire on people. (Oh my god those are thigh high boots on him.) Also damn, Jarro Darkfeather confirmed? Lmaooo. (I cannot think of a title for this my brain is mush I’m so sorry.)

Champion: Ezreal (tying this into my FWB!Ezreal fic general universe because I can. But like it can be read on its own.)

Genre: One-shot

Type: Mostly fluff. A teeny bit of angst to start things off but it gets fluffier. And a little suggestive at the end.

Gender: Gender Neutral reader.

TW: SPOILERS for ARCANE S2 plot points (you have been warned!!!!). Slight angst (in form of worry for the well-being of a partner). Slightly suggestive at the end. Swearing.

“Ezreal, you what??” Your voice peaked with shock and you gaped at your now sheepish-looking boyfriend.

“Shhhh! Baby! Baby, I promise I was fine. I’m here now, right? Nothing to worry about!��� He gestured to himself with his hands to emphasize his point.

You breath left you in a incredulous laugh. “Ezreal Lymere, what do you mean ‘nothing to worry about?’ You were dealing with the fucking Black Rose of Noxus?? You went to a Black Rose Masquerade?! They know about you? They know you’re Jarro Lightfeather?” You couldn’t help as a touch of panic entered your voice.

Ezreal realized he needed to shift things. He gave you a small pout. “Hey…come on…you know me…Are my talents not worth the recognition?”

You hummed and pouted back, but Ezreal could see you relax a little. “You know that’s not what I meant, baby. You do deserve recognition. But the Black Rose…” You stepped closer to him and hugged him tightly. “I know you can take care of yourself. As you said, you’re here now. But Ez, the Black Rose is so dangerous. You heard how easily they were able to infiltrate Piltovan society during Ambessa Medarda’s attempted takeover. And they weren’t even on her side. What do they want with you?”

Ez wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead softly, reassuring you he truly was there. “They didn’t say anything specific. So I guess it really was just an introduction to each other. I don’t mean to worry you, Angel, I promise that’s not my goal. They just made their interest in me clear throughout my time in Noxus, and it didn’t seem like the smartest move to ignore them when I got the invite to the Silken Danse. I do know they’re dangerous. That’s why I didn’t want to blow them off.”

You sighed and nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “I suppose that makes sense. But the Silken Danse,” you murmured. “What an interesting name for a party. Did you at least have fun?” You looked up at him curiously.

Ez grinned down at you. “We thought the Piltovan society parties were stuffy…oh man you havn’t seen anything like a Noxian masquerade.”

“So is that a no?” You giggled.

“Well I for sure would have enjoyed it more if you were there. You make any event a million more times fun and enjoyable.” His grin morphed into a playful smirk.

You gently pushed his chest and laughed. “You’re such a charmer, oh Prodigal explorer. Now answer my question.”

“It was…interesting, I’ll give it that. Thank fuck for the cotillion lessons we had as kids. The dance floor in Noxus is just as much of a battlefield as a gladiator arena. Knowing how to navigate around society types at least allowed for some interesting people watching.” His voice grew thoughtful as he mused.

“Anyone I’d know? Wait that might be a silly question considering it was a masquerade.”

Ezreal chuckled. “Actually there was a familiar face. You know of Renata Glasc, yes?”

You stared at him with wide eyes. “Miss Glasc was there? Oh that’s interesting…and a little alarming but…I suppose it’s fine.”

He nodded. “Those were my thoughts as well.”

“Any interesting dance partners?” You can’t help as a little tiny twinge of jealousy slipped into your tone.

He immediately shook his head and pecked your lips softly. “Nope. None of them were you.” His voice and expression were sincere.

Your cheeks blushed the slightest pink as you grinned. “Good answer, Lymere.” You said, making his smirk return to his face.

“Thank fuck I wore reinforced shoes though, otherwise my feet would have been in a lot of pain. Turns out Noxians are very hit-or-miss when it comes to dancing abilities.” He let out on a chuckle.

“Oh really? Are you sure it was them and not you?” You gently teased, even though you knew from personal experience that Ez was a surprisingly divine dancer.

You continued. “Speaking of your shoes, what else did you wear? Will you describe it for me?” You loved when Ezreal wore more formal attire, and he definitely knew this.

One of his eyebrows arched. “Now how did I know you’d ask that? I can actually do you better than just telling you. I brought the entire outfit home with me, mask included. Would you like to see it?”

You can’t help but let out a happy little gasp. “Wait really? Of course I would!”

You helped Ezreal unpack the clothes, admiring them. “Oh wow…I’ve seen you in formal wear, but never something this…intricate! The vest especially is beautiful.” You picked up the gold mask and held it up to his face. “Oh! It seems like this wouldn’t work with your hair in front, Ez. Did you push your bangs back?”

He nodded and pecked your lips quickly. “I did. Give me a second in the bathroom while I change, and I can also show you how that worked. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”

You waited on his bed as he went into the bathroom to change. After what felt like a half hour, (but was really only 10 minutes) he walked out of the bathroom. “So? What do you think?”

You could only blink at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks, rendered speechless as you take in the site of your usually handsome boyfriend looking downright dashing in this new outfit.

It was tailored to perfection on him. While Ezreal wasn’t buff, he was certainly in shape, and this outfit showed that off. The coloring on the outfit also fit his coloring very well. The gold mask covering the top half of his face was striking. And his hair! His normally slightly messy hair was brushed up and neatly slicked back away from his forehead. You felt your heart flutter and race as you studied him, and you took a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

Your reaction brought a smirk to his lips as he slowly walked closer to you. “Well well…normally I have to work a lot harder to render you speechless.” His smirk widened as his words flustered you further and you let out a soft squeak.

Ezreal stopped directly in front of you and gave a practiced bow. “Now, may I please have this dance?”

Despite your brain currently short-circuiting, you managed to whisper, “Y-yes…fuck yes,” in response, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet.

Once you were on your feet, you seemed to snap back to reality. Almost without thinking, you gripped the collar of his jacket and eagerly kissed him, the gold of his mask surprisingly warm against your face as it absorbed his body heat.

Ezreal chuckled softly once you pulled back for air, beginning to sway with you. “So your reaction tells me I should wear this again. Is that correct?”

You allowed him to lead you, grinning widely and smoothing out his collar. You ran your hands down his chest to feel the luxurious material of the vest beneath your fingertips. “I certainly have no qualms if you break this outfit, or any elements of this outfit, out the next time we’re required to get a little fancy. I should commission an outfit to match.”

Ezreal pecked the tip of your nose softly. “Two steps ahead of you. It’s already paid for, you just need to go get measured and tell the tailors what you want.”

You laughed. “I should have known. I’m sure you knew exactly what my reaction to this outfit would be, hrm?”

Ez smirked and kissed your neck softly, causing you to gently shiver in his arms. “I had an idea. But now I have an even better idea.”

Your voice became breathier as he continued to nibble along your jaw. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Ezreal’s voice was like silk as he whispered in your ear. “Now I want to see your reaction as I take it off~…”

AHHHH. I haven’t felt so inspired to write like this in a while lmao. I wrote this same day (apologies for any typos). Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!! 💙

[theundertaleaddict]

Ezreal!Sans! - The Prodigal Explorer

I always change arty style, and I do stressed about it

[anothertina]

not original anon but another new fan - do you know which of the stories are narrated by ez so i can go read em ? thanks! love ur drawings btw

All of the stories on his profile are narrated by him! There are only three there, his lore hasn't been updated in a while

And temporarily there used to be little notes in the universe map left by Ezreal, if I remember correcctly it was for an event? So they aren't there anymore but you can find them on his wiki, is him just sharing data of his travels

[no-hwei]

Pulsefire Ezreal/runeterra Ekko

Gauntlet is malfunctioning and sending Ezreal careening through universes. It's nice to see Ekko again, even if he's not HIS Ekko

Ezreal has, more than once, managed to fling himself though multiple time lines. There's names for them, he knows. Psyops, arcade, star guardian, and on and on, universes beyond measurable amount. Sometimes he exists in them. Sometimes he doesn't.

Usually, though, he finds Ekko.

Ekko takes him to his rickety table and gets him a glass of filtered water in the slums of Zaun. He watches Ezreal with a raised eyebrow and fingers tapping the seconds against his arm.

"So," he says, so casually it's come right back round to being pointed. "You're not Ezreal."

"What? No, yeah, I AM Ezreal, thank you very much! The one and only prodigal explorer Ezreal!"

Ekko is nodding his head, doubt painted over his face.

"Uh huh. So who was it that left this place two days ago with a completely different gauntlet?"

Ezreal looks down at gauntlet. She's sleek and shiny, bright chrome and glowing blue. These days her voice is staticky and warped, but he still loves it every time she speaks to him. It's good to know there's someone watching out.

"Uh." says Ezreal. He looks at Ekko with wide, panicked eyes. "I...changed my gauntlet?" he ventures.

Ekko shakes his head fondly.

Ezreal doesn't have to convince Ekko of time travel and universe hopping. Ekko knows all about that, more than Ezreal does, probably. Even in this dump of a universe where magic has choked tech down to the bone and grown wild over everything it touches. Even Ekko. He powers his drive with remnants of magic and says its steadier than any other power source could be.

Ezreal doesn't understand it, but he doesn't need to understand it.

Gauntlet's static drenched voice echoes through his mind.

"Countdown to launch has begun, get ready Ezreal. Fifty. Forty nine."

Ezreal takes another look around the little home. It's all worn down wood and bright splashes of paint and fabric, mechanical parts strewn over the desk and tiny windowsill. There's a little hextech powered clock with a little robotic bird bobbing it's head to and fro.

"Ah, damn, looks like I'm going. It was good to see you, Ekko." Ezreal curls his bare fingers into his sleeve to stop himself from reaching out. It's only been an hour or so since he arrived, and all this hopping is really starting to get boring.

And what's even more boring is the look in Ekko's eyes. Curiosity, intrigue, and nothing more. He stands across the room from Ezreal, sits down next to him, and he never jolts if they touch. He never looks at Ezreal's mouth.

"Twenty five,"

Maybe he's impulsive. He's definitely impulsive. But then, Ekko has always been his little mystery, like if a city was a person. Ezreal specialises in the dead places, sure, but that's only because the living scream at you when you take their stuff.

"Fifteen."

Ezreal arcane shifts over to Ekko's side, uses his shoulder to steady himself.

"Really good." he says. Maybe it's wistful. Whatever. He's never going to see this Ekko again.

He kisses him on the cheek and the last thing he sees of this world is Ekko's bright eyes, his shocked expression.

Everything dissolves into the unreal brightness of the time slip, and here he goes again, the prodigal explorer, off on another adventure.

Maybe this time, he'll find a place to sleep for an hour or so.

[dndnpcinfo]

Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer by HumbleChronicler

[prideraiised]

@jinxe asked: Of all sudden popping behind Ezreal, a very smiley Loose Cannon pokes his shoulder, before waving and retreating.  Though what, in fact, happened, was that he now had a Chomper attached to him.  (could be or could not be a deadly one)

Was that... ? No, no it couldn't be could it? The fabled loose canon herself? That didn't seem right at all. He knew she made regular excursions to Piltover in order to cause trouble but this still seemed pretty brazen-

Now usually, he was more than happy to show off all his boundless charisma. After all, he was Ezreal! The Dashing Rogue! The Prodigal Explorer! The guy some people in Demacia REALLY didn't like! there was no lunatic he couldn't parley with! (He learned that in Bilgewater)

Yet she throws him for a loop. First of all, WAY cuter in person. The wanted posters made her look feral. She wasn't feral! Or at least, she was feral in that cute way more so than the "Oh god get away from me" way. So that was a fun surprise!

The second thing that caught him off guard was that she seemed downright friendly! A cute little wave and off she went. Of course! It all made sense now! Obviously, she had been smitten by his good looks! He really couldn't blame her, all the ladies wanted a piece of Jarro Lightfeather after all! He wasn't one for helping out Piltover, but maybe just this once he could use his powers for good and befrie-

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

Ah. He saw what just happened. He had exploded.

"gah...why you--" He groans, face down ass up on the ground, covered in soot before pulling himself slowly off the ground.

"You little- GET BACK HERE!!" He shouts after her.

And he's on the move, dashing in the direction she had ran off in, vaulting food stalls, arcane shifting through walls. The works. It was personal now, she had ruined his perfectly quaffed hair!

[tealsteel]

 the streets of Zaun emitted a toxic cloud of desolation , kids with dirtied faces running around chasing each other with make shift bats . . . adults lurking in alleys performing who knows whatever nefarious affairs imaginable ; it was most certainly a stark contrast to the streets of Piltover , lavish and pretentious , The City of Progress felt more stifling than the streets of the undercity he currently found himself in .

 both proved most certainly undesirable . . . although for vastly different reasons , most of which far beyond the range of control that anyone in Zaun had access to ; in a perfect world , there would be a middle ground . . . a middle ground that ezreal strove for with every relic heist that he performed .

 yet , despite his desires and contributions to the unfortunate corners of Zaun . . . that Piltie stench that had been assigned to him at birth lingered regardless of his best efforts , a notion that most certainly rewarded him the the ire and glares of several residents he found himself currently walking past .

 eventually , The Prodigal Explorer , would find himself in what could be classified as a large urban opening . . . a common congregation area that had a statue and fountain in its center ; the bag he had been clutching now dropping to his feet . . .

 . . . this was the moment in the story where a little girl would be walking in his vicinity . . . her adorable curls hued a shade of dazzling purple ; it was this little girl that would watch as ezreal knelt down before her , handing her a singular shimmering gold coin accompanied by a charmingly friendly smile .

 it did not take long for the other Zaunites to place two and two together . . . and soon enough he found himself with a rather decently sized crowd , a shimmering gold coin for each and everyone of them . a small , but memorable act of charity that brought joyous harmony to his soul . . .

 . . . as the patrons came and went with their gifts , ezreal would catch far glimpse of captivating blue pig tails from across the way . . . her eyes gazing at him with intent that he couldn't yet quantify .

@jynxd

[league-of-skins]

Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer

League of Legends

Original Ezreal

Frosted Ezreal

Nottingham Ezreal

Striker Ezreal

Explorer Ezreal

Pulsefire Ezreal

TPA Ezreal

Debonair Ezreal

Ace of Spades Ezreal

Arcade Ezreal

Star Guardian Ezreal

SSG Ezreal

Pajama Guardian Ezreal

Battle Academia Ezreal

PsyOps Ezreal

Prestige PsyOps Ezreal

Porcelain Protector Ezreal

Faerie Court Ezreal

Heartsteel Ezreal

Heavenscale Ezreal

Wild Rift

Original Ezreal

Debonair Ezreal

Frosted Ezreal

Star Guardian Ezreal

Battle Academia Ezreal

Crystal Rose Ezreal

Pajama Guardian Ezreal

Arcade Ezreal

Battle Academia Ezreal Mythic Chroma

Heartsteel Ezreal

Lovestruck Ezreal

Legends of Runeterra

Original Ezreal

Battle Academia Ezreal

[league-skins]

Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer

Nothing Yet…

[essence-flux-primed]

⋆ — He's proud of the suit, obviously, and he's trying to channel all of the fear he feels underneath it into just that — pride, charisma, charm, all the things that Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer, is known for. He's not nervous, of course, and more than that, he's definitely not scared. "Oh, makeup?" He's seen plenty of it — everywhere he travels seems to have some version of it, whether it's to cover up blemishes, accentuate the lines of the face, or completely mask the identity of the wearer, it's pretty ubiquitous. Ezreal's never got into it himself because, well, why would you want to cover such a gorgeous face? But in this instance? Anything to make him less recognizable seems like a plus. "Sure, yeah. You can show me the ropes."

But he's distracted, and it shows in the way he doesn't look at her until the responds, and Ezreal holds her gaze until the pause is too long (read: too long for Ezreal). "Right. In passing." Tellingly, his hand rises of its own accord to rub the back of his neck, nervous. "Yeah, me too."

The fact that Caitlyn knows about them is both reassuring and not. If she knows about them, she can look out for him, even at a distance. But the fact that she knows about them indicates that they're worth knowing about. Which does little to assuage Ezreal's fears. "So, years ago," his hand waves vaguely to indicate the passing of time, "I was in Noxus to meet a contact and she never showed up. I was just killing time outside the Immortal Bastion when this shady guy showed up and gave me a petal. Black, of course." His eyes lift to Caitlyn, nervous blues that seem to shave ten years off his age. "I left, after that. But I kept finding petals in my bag until I was well clear of the place."

A sigh. The story still makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise. It's one he's never published, only written down in his personal journal. He doesn't like it because it makes him look weak. More than that, it makes him feel weak. "I figured... if they're inviting me this time, I can't really say no."

Things have been busy in the leadup to and her actual retirement. Moving to the countryside had been something of a necessity. There had been uproar, there had been mourning, there had been a concerted effort to induct her into Parliament, there had even been - gods help her - the Ministry's decision to turn her old apartment turned into a museum. Living people shouldn't get museums dedicated to themselves, good grief.

She appreciates that there are plenty of people who aren't treating her like she's died, even if she does get sad looks when people overcorrect from calling her 'sheriff'. The impossible has happened, she has retired, and she is not troubled by it. She is still Caitlyn Huxley, and always will be. So here she is, her new west Bannerstone home mostly unpacked and settled in to, entertaining a very irregular guest.

"You look stunning," she reassures Ezreal, as she finishes refilling their glasses. The cider was a gift from her brother, and she intends to share it with as many people as possible (she's not going to drink three kegs all by herself). "If you would like, I think a little makeup would go a long way to helping you blend in. I would be happy to help out." He's nervous, and it has little to do with the nation-state he's bound for. She almost thinks she's figured out why when his whisper interrupts his calm, an ice-pick directly through to some old conversations set aside at the very back of her mind.

Her face is very, very carefully neutral. Perhaps too neutral, given how she'd been smiling warmly a moment before. She holds out his cider glass to him, and takes a long draught of hers. "In passing," she says, with deliberate care. Passing? No-one hears about the Rose in passing. It is a closely-guarded secret, a riddle wrapped in riddles and re-written histories and outright lies and then twined all around itself again and again like an oroboros. There is no 'in passing' when it comes to the Black Rose. But the sheriff - beg pardon, former sheriff - has known an awful lot of people, and an awful lot of secrets.

Gods help him. Does Ezreal realise the danger he's in?

[battlcdance]

messy ezreal doodle for @prodigal-ezreal !!

[cautelous]

“There are worse fates than death, you know.”

FANTASY RP MEME.

Now, what would Piltover's Prodigal Explorer know about that? It’s not that he’s wrong, far from it, but... The man’s (the boy, really - how old is he again?) a grandstander in every facet of his being. Julian could see him being afraid of death, as Ezreal’s most certainly come face-to-face with it on multiple occasions, but...

He sighs softly. He’s an art teacher, nothing more, and a kindly one as well. It makes no sense for someone like Julian Raines to dislike one of Piltover’s best and brightest.

“I’m certain there are,” Julian says, letting just the right amount of solemnity into his voice. But then he smiles, and it’s the sort of smile that sets people at ease. “But I wouldn’t agonize over them. You’ve proven yourself to be perfectly competent at escaping death - I’ve heard some tales - and so I’m certain you could handle those fates just the same.”

It’s nice platitudes, of course. But Ezreal does seem inordinately lucky...

[shiedare]

So I’ve been watching the new Ruination video and I’ve noticed something really familiar about Ezreal’s gauntlet, there’s a new champion and she’s said to be sentinel of light and funny thing, Ezreal is also kind of a sentinel of light. Look at his gauntlet and the two pictures.

[esreal]

" Have I told you about the Januk story? " What a trip down memory lane, years since his last visit had brought him into the city. A chuckle at the thought: of the Elixir of Uloa, a dreadnaught raised back from the dead, and probably the greatest little bait and switch of all time. Part of him hopes he hasn't told the story yet, or that Kayn's forgotten he had - an excuse to tell and relive the fun of it again. ( Each story gets better the farther it moves from recent memory after all, becomes easier to embellish. ) " Not to say it was my peak or anything, but two artifacts from two different regions and some weird, thwarted plot where I saved the whole world... And that still didn't get me into the Adventurer's Guild? C'mon. "

Ezreal isn't in the Adventurer's Guild, even now - but admittedly cares less about it, convinced the work he does solo has resulted in far more than a name in some fancy hall would. Call it sour grapes all you want, but when he's done with the world they'll make guilds in his honor, just you watch.

Which is why - for all intents and purposes - Ezreal works alone. Something about having to share the limelight of heists he finds himself in is all too much of a detractor, prevents him from being seen as the prodigal explorer he can only hope his parents can see, wherever they are. Yet, he's happy to have Kayn alongside him on this sort of trip - deep within The Immortal Bastion, looking for proof of Noxii tribes long-passed presence in the brutal empire. Truth be told? He hates it here - the way everybody seems to watch him, know exactly what he's about to do and are determining the reason to punish him for it.

He's heard the stories of prisoners in gladiator type battles and the extensive torture methods - aggrandized sure, but what if there's a kernel of truth?

Besides, it's nice to have someone to talk to - he'll admit as much.

Even if said travel partner has fallen silent - seems to take in their surroundings with quiet fervor. Bustling streets and marketplaces mean nothing to Ezreal, this place no different in its significance from any corner of Runeterra, but to Kayn it seems important. It's why he prods once more, half to spur him out of the trance he's in and engage Ezreal on his curiosity, half to put the attention solely back onto himself: " anyway, I frankly just wouldn't play around with necromancy and revive some thousand-year old warlord conqueror that kills me as soon as I wake him up. Just saying! "

The hole that's caught the other's attention has not even entered the explorer's view. It's a shock when the words he speak does, in fact, seem to jolt Kayn out of thought - only for him to change the subject and scenery completely. But then again, there's trust in whatever Kayn will do and how he leads the two of them, how his hand encircles Ezreal's wrist and pulls him - such that he jogs to catch up with Kayn's urgent strides.

" Where're we going? " Is this meant to be private, taken into shrouded alleyways that hold rotted wooden doors? Nevertheless, he whispers - it's harsh, not even really that quiet - but it's an attempt.

@esreal is about to get a history lesson!

Some might say that it's a miracle that Zed let him go, trusting Kayn of all people to behave himself in Noxus when it's all he can do normally to stop his student from tearing any Noxian who crosses his path to shreds, but perhaps Zed thought that having Ezreal at his side would temper that violence, that fury that bubbles beneath the surface of even Kayn's calmest days. Kayn, however, would chalk it up to his skills at persuasion and the trust that he has spent years cultivating in Zed.

If he had known where, exactly, in Noxus he was going, he might have hesitated. He might not have gone at all. But he didn't even know where he was at the time, never had anyone to tell him as much. In his mind, he was in the heart of Noxus, at the very center of it all. But there — a storefront that bears all the same lines and curves as one he knew, though the name and its content has changed. And there, the smell of meat that still makes his mouth water, even a decade and more removed. And there, a fruit stall that makes him stop dead in his tracks in the middle of the road, because the person behind it looks like the man who would offer him a peach if Kayn looked particularly hungry, only fifty years younger.

Of course, time has passed, even here in this place that's stayed immortal in Kayn's mind. It's not familiar, but it's familiar enough.

He's quiet as they walk through the market, pensive and unresponsive, until something catches his eye — a hole in a fence, a strip of dirt beyond. He should keep moving, stay on task, but his feet are rooted in place. Flowers have grown where there used to be mud and rock, as if no one's gone that way in a very long time. Ezreal's saying something, but Kayn can't hear a word. He grabs Ezreal's wrist instead, presses the pad of his thumb to where he can feel that familiar pulse, and says, "Could we stop somewhere, first?"

And then he's leading Ezreal away, out of the crowds and into the alley, past the doors that, Kayn imagines, are still bolted shut despite the way the town seems to thrive now.