"So, Xin Zhao was infected?" The summoner asked. Draven wasn't paying any attention, because of his wondering on where could have The Warmaster went. One month passed since the battle that failed, and little they knew of it. Ahri left the hospital two weeks before him, but the interogation she was supposed to have was delayed because she wanted Draven to be with her. And here he was, in all his might and power, Draven sat on the couch next to her. It was a strange couch, one of those that would sink when you sit in them.
"Yes, somekind of... Dirt, even mould or fungi covered him. I don't know, but they somehow enchanted him." He heard Ahri answer the question. He was still thinking on his stay in the medical wing. He got a lot of mail and cards, wich was strange. All was from fellow noxians or fans, mainly fans but there were some from Swain and Urgot, Sion and his brother. His big 'bo came to see him a few days after he got in the hospital, but was fine allready. Their audience was short and meaningless, only like 'Hey, how are you?' and 'Fine, thanks.'. Nothing special. But the woman that came to see him was strange. That one, the one who looked at him before his first match. Irelia was her name. She came to see him and talked, really unfriendly but somehow calm, about his relationship with Ahri. They didn't keep it a secret, but she acted like they did.
"And do you remember something else?" The summoner asked his twenth question, annoying Draven to death. He was allready interogated, but this was to much. They asked him much fewer things than they asked Ahri. Draven atleast knew what that tentacle was. It was a limb of something like Nashor, a cousin probably. He didn't care. Now he only wanted to spend time with Ahri, because when they got him out of the hospital, he was immediatley transported here. The executioner tried to relax, probably sleep but couldn't, feeling something new. It wasn't his ego, he knew that one too good, something new. Care. He cared for something or someone, and that someone stood next to him, talking with the summoners. Draven looked around, inspecting the room for the fift time. It was big, a few benches around it, rich carpet on the floor, lanterns dropping from the sieling and the table between the couches. Two summoners and two champions. But Draven was puzzeled for one more thing. Who was his summoner. He didn't know who he was, he didn't even hear a voice in his head even once. Strange it was.
"Well, no. Nothing else. Only the hospital after I woke up, but nothing more from the cave. Sorry." Ahri explained. She was quite worried, Draven knew why, but didn't knonw how to make her feel better.
"So I think this will be ending the audience. You can leave now." The summoner proclaimed and collected his notes. Draven sihted and stood up, moving his hands. Ahri walked towards the door, followed by him. Upon reaching it, they turned to say bye, but there was no one in the room exept them. Draven opened the door, walked in the corridor and opened the outer gate. He was met by the roar of a huge crowd, shouting his name and yelling in happines. He smiled and started posing, making flashy moves, throwing his axes in the air and leaping to grab and throw them again. Upon stopping, He lifted his hands and shouted.
"YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!" The crowd went mad. They loved him, he was alright, and all was fine!
If you think it was short, sorry. But that's only Part 1 of the journey. Two more to come...