Title: A Little Piece of Runeterra in ASOIAF/GOT
Premise/Rough Summary: A young man who dreams of escaping his world and adventuring in another has his wish granted when he awakens in a new world...as a slave...with a Template System...of League Champions.
Extra Info: He would be reborn long before the main story and a few years before the Valyrian Freehold fell. Not sure of the timeline, but more or less.
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Chapter Title: New Beginnings
Los Angeles, the city of hopes and dreams, where people from all over the world flock in hopes of making it big whether that be as a musician, actor, writer, director, entertainer, streamer, influencer, etc.
In a city like that, hopeful dreamers are a dime a dozen. And as many dreams have been fulfilled, millions more have been crushed, ground into dust, and spread among the earth as fertilizer for another's dream.
But what's worse? Having your dreams crushed and never fulfilled, or living in the limbo between being a success and being a failure, only to never escape.
~
"Fuck." I mumbled to myself as I looked at the emblazoned word "Defeat" on my screen.
It was a familiar sight to me and it did not feel good to see again. And taking a quick glance at my four teammates, I could tell that they too were frustrated at seeing the all-too-familiar red words.
"Alright, listen up guys." said Coach, a bespectacled, short-statured, Korean male in his late 20s, as we all swiveled in our chairs to look at him.
"Sigh." he said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated at the team's performance.
"Nevermind. Go home. We'll talk in the morning." he said after a few seconds of silence before leaving the room.
"Fucking coach. Can't even say something to make us feel even a little better." said my teammate as he started to pack up his things.
"Can't blame him. Coach can only do so much. Our fault." said another one of my teammates, an import from Korea.
"Yeah, our fault." he said while looking at me, "Whatever. Later."
It was a truth of the human condition to find a reason for everything and assigning blame for a loss fell under that category, so I was used to being blamed.
Not that I could fault them for blaming me considering it was my fault. Not entirely but partially. After all, it takes five people to play a game of League.
Or at least that's what I told myself to feel better.
But I knew the truth.
We all did.
~
Closing the door to my apartment behind me, I was enveloped in darkness and loneliness. But I didn't turn on the lights.
There was no reason to.
Turning on the lights would only let me see just how small my apartment was, just how empty my apartment was, and just how shitty my life was.
I put my stuff on my countertop and slinked my way to my bedroom before plopping down facefirst onto my twin-size mattress.
I didn't cry, I didn't shout in frustration, and I didn't cheer myself up.
I just lay there and tried to think of nothing.
But I couldn't.
My brain had always been one that needed stimulation. It couldn't be quiet.
It's part of the reason why I was able to make it to the pro scene in League. My brain just took to it.
To a certain extent, anyway.
So instead of thinking of how horribly I played, of how I would be reamed out come morning, how I would be flamed to kingdom come on Reddit and Twitter, I thought of another world.
A world where I wasn't stuck in life. A world where I was happy. A world where I could make my dreams fully come true. A world where I could be the best or at least die trying.
'If only.'
Then I fell asleep.
~
"Wake up." said a voice, causing my eyes to shoot open.
The first thing I saw was a boundless universe. Galaxies and star clusters of all shapes and sizes riddled my view.
The odd thing about the view was that the galaxies and star clusters didn't seem big, they seemed small. Like I was a god looking at a star map of the known universe.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Yes." I responded instinctively before realizing there was another voice.
Turning my head in the direction of the voice, my entire being froze in awe. From my brain to my heart to my blood to my cells, they all stopped for a moment as they were all in awe at the sight.
"Forgive me. I'm not used to having visitors." said the Being as they transformed from an indescribable sight to an androgynous human.
"Better?" they asked, a smile on their face that radiated warmth and made me feel more comforted than I had ever been before.
"I-is this a dream?" I asked.
"Yes, I suppose you could call it that." they said.
"Then why does it feel so real?" I asked.
Unlike other lucid dreams I had experienced before where I was conscious in my dreams but was missing some sensations, this time it felt like I was actually there.
I could feel the warmth the Being radiated, the slight scent of the outdoors, and the sounds of the stars and galaxies moving. Not to mention sights so unbelievably surreal, I doubt my brain, or any brain for that matter, could create them on its own.
"Don't worry about that." they said.
"Okay, I guess."
"Tell me, what do you wish for?" they asked.
"Like what are my hopes and dreams?" I asked, slightly confused at the question.
"No, what do you wish for? From the deepest depths of your soul, where your deepest desires lie. What do you wish for?"
"I don't know."
"But you do know. You thought about it before you went to sleep." they said, approaching me and gently grabbing my head before staring into my eyes.
But they were not looking at my eyes, they were looking at the very core of my being, my soul.
"Tell me what it is you wish for." they said, their words striking my very soul.
"To start over in another world. A world unlike mine. A world where I can be something." I said as tears started to fall from my eyes.
"Then you shall have it." they said as they brought me into their embrace and held me like a parent holds their child.
"But it won't be easy. After all, nothing worth having comes easy."
"I'll do whatever it takes if it means making something of myself." I said.
"Good. I will help you as well." they said as they removed me from their embrace but kept their hands on my face.
"Good luck on your journey, my child. I wish for your success." they said as they kissed my forehead and I fell asleep.
~
CLANG CLANG CLANG
"Wake the fuck up!"
Awoken by the loud clanging and shouting, I first noticed that my thoughts were out of order and my head felt muddled leading me to believe that I was once again in a dream, but I still felt compelled to answer the question.
"What do you want?" I asked with my eyes still closed.
"You little shit!" said the same gruff voice before the sound of keys, a lock being unlocked, and squeaky hinges were heard, leading me to believe I was dreaming of being in a prison.
Though the hit to my stomach ridding me of any air in my lungs and any bile in my stomach instantly evaporated any confusion, grogginess, and reason to believe that I may have been dreaming.
BLERGH
"Fuck!" said the gruff voice with disgust.
'W-what the fuck? I don't think this is a dream. Am I being robbed?' I thought trying to catch my breath as I was bent over on myself holding the area where I was hit.
After that small moment of realization, I finally opened my eyes to see where I was and why I had just been hit in the stomach when I should've been in my room in my twin-size bed by myself.
The first thing that entered my sight which was blurry from the tears, thanks to the pain, was the owner of the gruff voice who was crouched down angrily and disgustingly using a rag to wipe my vomit from his greaved boots.
The next thing I noticed was the room I was in was not my small apartment bedroom, but a rather sizeable brick cell. I could tell it was a cell because of the cell door at the entrance. And besides the cell door, the room was empty.
An empty brick cell with a dirt floor big enough to hold dozens more people.
Before I could take in my surroundings more and figure out where the hell I was, I saw that the figure was done wiping his boots and he stood back up while looking hatefully at me.
Thanks to his standing up, I was able to see the rest of his outfit which consisted of a hat-like helmet with a small ridge running through it that had a slight peak ending right at the bridge of the nose, a breastplate with gaps in it in a webbed pattern that didn't look very effective against arrows, layered pauldrons, vambraces, armor skirts only covering the sides of the thighs, and a weird ring in the middle of the breastplate with a mantle going through it and out the back like a cape.
'What the hell? Is he wearing armor?' I thought.
"I should beat you half to death, you fucking slave!" he said, throwing the dirty rag right at me while he approached me, fist at the ready.
But what had my attention wasn't the fist he had at the ready, but the fact that he called me a slave. A term that should not have been used by almost anyone on planet Earth during the 21st century.
Add the weird armor and the usage of the word slave, and clearly not in a racist manner but rather as a manner of fact, and my confusion remained.
Unfortunately for me, it was neither the time nor the place to try to make sense of the situation seeing as the man was still approaching me.
Seeing him still approaching me with anger on his face, I instinctively put my hands up to block any incoming hit, but before he could get any closer, he was stopped by another man who was waiting at the entrance to the cell.
"Stop. You'll get in trouble if you hit him anymore. He's meant to fight in the pits. They don't like it when they're hurt beforehand." said the man wearing nearly identical armor who had a much softer voice than the one who hit me.
"They won't notice anyway." said the first man, continuing his approach.
"My Lady!" said the man at the entrance causing the one who was approaching to instantly drop his hand, turn to the door, and stand at the ready.
"What is this I hear about my merchandise being mistreated?" asked a female voice that was full of pride and elegance yet had a subtle undertone of youth.
And just by the sound of her voice, I could tell that the owner had to be pretty, but I could only assume as she hadn't entered my line of sight.
"A mistake, My Lady." said the one who hit me.
"A mistake? Are you implying that I've made a mistake?" she asked, her tone unchanged.
"Of course not, My Lady!" said the man, hurriedly fixing his mistake, "I only meant it was my mistake, My Lady!"
"It would seem so. I'll forgive your transgressions this time, seeing as you have served me well, but I will not tolerate my merchandise being mistreated. Guards are as plentiful as flies. Is that understood?"
"Yes, My Lady! I thank you for your lenience!" said the guard, bowing his head in thanks.
"Get him ready for transport. We're leaving now." she said before the sound of her footsteps receded.
"You got lucky. If it was the Lord, he would have had you in the pits with him." said the soft-voiced guard.
"Tch, she's just a woman." said the gruff guard, clearly not as subservient as he appeared in front of his employer before turning to me, "Stand up, slave."
"W-where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see."