Why is lux never free

Garen does nothing to disprove Lux's assumption. People are not able to control whether they have magical abilities or not, yet are subject to harsh discrimination and punishment because of a war against mages that happened years ago. Being forced out of one's own home is terrible enough, but being put behind bars for being a mage is even worse.

Many of the people imprisoned had done nothing wrong, and according to Sylas, he had been there for years with almost nothing to eat. Lux learns from her brother that anyone from the Crownguard family can show any Demacian soldier their family crest and be granted access almost anywhere.

Everyone in Demacia would recognize the highly regarded Crownguard name, as that is the name of the family who has closely served under the royal family for generations. It grants Lux a privilege that allows her to even visit the highly guarded prison for mages.

She also gains a hefty amount of respect from others, making the soldiers that disrespected her immediately regret their actions once they discover her identity. In the game, Lux is a talented and confident light mage who flawlessly casts her spells. However, Lux does not have this mastery in Demacia. From a young age, Lux has not been able to control her magic.

Her hands start glowing right in front of Garen, and even when she tries to cover it up, the light is poorly concealed. Stating that her old tricks aren't working insinuates that her power is getting stronger and that she needs a proper teacher, or the light from her hands could become deadly. Despite the fact that mages are hated in Demacia, the magical books that the soldiers find from arrested mages are not destroyed. Instead, they are confiscated and stored in the Arcane Registry. Most people cannot go there, but Lux is one of the few exceptions.

However, instead of the answers she is looking for, she just finds books on history, potions, and curses. These books do not seem to teach Lux anything of value. However, the texts are not destroyed in case Mageseekers, the people who hunt and arrest mages, need any information from them.

After retrieving Durand's texts from the Mageseeker's vault for Sylas, a magical prisoner that Lux had befriended, Sylas discovers that Galio is a weapon that absorbs magic from mages in order to move and even fight. When Lux sees the picture on the paper, she immediately recognizes the colossus to be Galio. Being able to instantly recognize him and stating that she knew him meant that Lux's encounter with Galio happened before she met Sylas.

Galio's ability to absorb magic had temporarily allowed him to move once Lux was close enough. Unlike Sylas, who plotted to use her for his own benefit, Galio had told Lux to stop coming to see him since he felt that he was robbing her of her gift.

In Sylas, Lux finds someone that she can confide in. He is a mage like her, and keeps her secret. In exchange for his company and his teachings, she often brings him gifts such as books and food. Visiting his cell is something she shouldn't do, but she doesn't stop even when Garen tells her to.

She never tells him how she feels, but she's even willing to throw herself over him in an attempt to stop his execution. Unfortunately, he does not seem to feel the same way, having no qualms with using her.

He absorbs her magic and starts a violent coup with the other mages who had been imprisoned. In the prison for mages, mages were forced to drink liquid Petricite.

Petricite is a material used in armor and in Galio, which absorbs magic and renders mages powerless. But the light snuffed out as quickly as it came, returning all to blackness. Lux looked at the outlines of her hands, inspecting them for flaws. She wondered what could have hampered her from doing what had previously come so easily and unbidden. She suddenly became aware of voices in the woodland murmur.

Slow, purposeful footsteps, and whispers. They were-. She could sense the presence of at least two other men to her sides. Lux struggled to free her arms as the men tried to bind them with coarse rope. She concentrated, but still could not summon the magic that had apparently once been hers.

She freed one hand, struck one of the men squarely in the jaw, and heard the twigs on the ground crunch as he fell. The two other men angrily descended on her.

The men began to tighten her bindings. They were making a point to pull the knots as tightly and painfully as possible, when the ground began to vibrate with dull thunderous beat. The men paused in dread, searching for the source of the noise, as it slowly increased in frequency and volume. It rumbled like an earthquake, only broken up into steady rhythmic booms The ground shook more, and its quaking was joined by the crackling of great trees being broken apart. Whatever it was, it was now in the forest and almost upon them.

All looked up to see the monstrous Galio, striding toward them, a path of felled redbarks in his wake. The men ran, getting only a few steps through the trees before a giant petricite hand snatched them up high into the air.

Galio glared with one enormous eye at the trembling wads of flesh held tight in his grip. Confused, Galio lowered the men to the ground and released them. As she wriggled out of her bindings, she gazed up at the colossus. Galio reclined on a hillside, gazing at the stars with the tiny yellow-headed girl he had befriended.

Neither spoke, save for an occasional sigh - not the stressful gasps that Lux had previously known. There was something different about the girl.

Something missing. She no longer shone like the stars. Since before you can remember, I have felt your gift. For so long, I wanted it near me.

But now I see I smash your gift. He got to his feet and gingerly placed the girl on his shoulder. Together, they began to trudge back toward the city to face what awaited. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Lux returned to her family manor. Outside the city walls, Galio was returning to stillness on his plinth beside the Memorial Road, leaving Lux to face her problems alone.

She entered the house to find her mother sitting in the parlor with a balding middle-aged man, who held a case of exotic medical tinctures in his lap. She cornered Lux and began to speak with authority. This man has risked everything to help you.

As Lux flopped onto her bed, she expelled a deep, easy breath. For the first time in years, her mind was as still as a pond in summer. The light that had once exploded from her unbidden was still there, but she could feel its beginning and its end, and knew that one day she could master it.

As she drifted off to sleep, she realized her mantra had always been wrong. No light could ever kill shadows. Garen had just left to begin his training with the Dauntless Vanguard, and the rest of the family had come north to honor the tomb of great grandfather Fossian.

A marble slab set into the base of the mound depicted the legend of her illustrious forebear; Fossian and the demon falling from the cliff, her great grandfather mortally wounded, the nightmarish entity with a Demacian blade piercing its black heart.

It had rained then, and it was raining now. An icy, northern deluge fresh off the dogtooth mountains that separated Demacia from the Freljord. A storm was brewing in that frozen realm, breaking on the far side of the peaks to fall on verdant swathes of Demacian pine bent by hostile winds.

North, the forested haunches of the highlands were craggy with cliffs and plunging chasms. Dangerous lands; home to fell creatures and wild beasts of all descriptions.

Lux had set off into the north two weeks ago; Demacia to Edessa, then to Pinara and on to Lissus. Almost immediately, the character of the people and villages began to change as the heartland of Demacia fell behind her like a pennant torn from the haft of a banner-pole. Rolling, fertile plains gave way to windswept hinterlands dotted with gorse and thistle.

Silverwing raptors screeched overhead, invisible as they dueled in the clouds. The air grew colder, freighted with the deep ice of the Freljord, and the walls of each settlement grew higher with every mile she rode. It had been a long and tiring journey to Fossbarrow, but she was here, and Lux allowed herself a small smile.

The horse shook its head and snorted, stamping its feet with impatience. The town occupied the banks of the Serpentrion, a thundering river that rose in the mountains and snaked to the western coast. The tower of a Lightbringer temple rose in the east, the brazier within its steeple a welcome light in the gathering dusk. Lux pulled back the hood of her blue cloak and shook her hair free.

Long and golden, it framed a youthful face of high cheekbones and ocean blue eyes that sparkled with determination. She unfastened the leather thong securing her staff to the saddle, and held its lacquered gold and ebony haft loosely at her side. Two men appeared on the tower above the iron-bound gate, each armed with a powerful longbow of ash and yew. The man squinted through the gloom, his eyes widening as he recognized her.

Lux eased Starfire forward as the solid timbers of the gate lifted into the stone of the barbican with a clatter of heavy iron chains. As soon as it had risen enough, Lux rode under it to find a hastily assembled honor guard awaiting her — ten men in leather breastplates and blue cloaks secured with silver pins in the shape of winged swords.

They were proud Demacian soldiers, though their shoulders were curiously slumped and their eyes haunted with exhaustion. Magistrate Giselle will be relieved to know you are here. May I offer you a detachment of soldiers to escort you to her home? Rumors of dark magic in the forests and crags around Fossbarrow had reached the Lightbringers in the capital of Demacia, and Radiant Kahina had sent Lux to investigate. Lux awoke with a scream, her heart hammering in her chest and her breath coming in wheezing spikes.

Terror filled her mind; a nightmare of clawed hooks dragging her beneath the earth, of fetid mud filling her mouth and darkness smothering her light forever. Lux blinked away the last afterimages, glimpsing retreating shadows out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth was filled with the taste of rancid milk, a sure sign of lingering magic, and she let spectral radiance build in her palms.

Light filled the room, and with it, the last remnants of the nightmare was banished. Warmth suffused her, her skin shimmering with a haze of familiar iridescence. She heard voices downstairs and clenched her fists. The light faded, leaving only the wan traces of daylight from the shuttered window to illuminate the room. Lux pressed her hands to the side of her head, as if seeking to push the awful visions from her mind.

She tried to recall specific moments from the nightmare, but all that came was the reek of sour breath and a faceless darkness pressing down upon her. Her mouth dry, Lux quickly dressed and lifted her staff from the corner of the room. She descended to the temple kitchen, and though she had little in the way of appetite, prepared a breakfast of bread and cheese. At her first bite, the taste of grave earth filled her mouth and she put the food aside. Only now did Lux notice just how bone-weary Pernille was.

Starfire whinnied at the sight of her, his ears pressed flat against his skull and his eyes wide. He nuzzled her and she stroked his pearl white neck and shoulders.

Dawn was already an hour old, but the town was still to fully come to life. No smoke rose from the forges, no smell of fresh bread wafted from the bakeries and only a very few sullen-looking merchants had their doors open for business.

She passed through the gate into the open ground before the town and let Starfire run to work out the stiffness in his muscles before turning onto the muddy road. The scent of pine and wildflowers hung heavy in the air, and Lux savored the heady, natural aroma of the northern climes. Sunlight pierced the leafy canopy in angled spars of light and the smell of wet mud sent a shiver up her spine as her nightmare briefly surfaced.

She rode deeper into the forest, following the track as it wound its way further north. Lux lifted a hand from the reins and reached for a glittering sunbeam, feeling the magic within her stir at its touch. She let it come, feeling the light at the center of her being spread through her body like an elixir.

Her world lit up as magic filled her senses, the colors of the forest unnaturally vivid and filled with life. She saw glittering motes of light drifting in the air, the breath of trees and the sighs of the earth. How incredible it was to see the world like this, alive to the energies flowing through every living thing.

From blades of grass to the mighty ironbirch trees whose roots were said to reach the very heart of the world. After an hour of riding through the iridescent forest, the road diverged at a crossroads, one path leading east; to a logging town if she remembered correctly, the other dropping west to a community built around a thriving silver mine.

Her father owned a stake in the mine and her favorite cloak pin had been wrought from metal dug from its deep chasms. Between the two main routes lay a smaller pathway, all but invisible and suitable only for lone riders or those on foot. She had no need to go that way, for her story of paying respects to her great grandfather was just that, a story.

Lux closed her eyes and lifted her arms out to the side, letting the magic drift from her fingers and the glittering tip of her staff. She took a breath, filling her lungs with cold air and letting the light of the forest speak to her. It spoke in contrasting hues of light and shadow, scintillating colors and vibrant illumination. She felt the light of distant stars drift down like mist, light that bathed other worlds and people. Where the light of Demacia fell into shadow, she flinched.

Where it nourished something living, she was soothed. Lux turned in the saddle, her senses extended far beyond those of most other mortals, seeking the power that lay over the land like a curse. The sun was almost at its zenith, and she frowned as the quality of light in the forest trembled.

She felt shadows where no shadows ought to dwell, hidden darkness where only light should exist. The breath caught in her throat, like a hand at her neck, and a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her.

Her eyelids fluttered, drifting closed as if she were being pulled into a waking slumber. The forest around her was suddenly silent. Not a breath of wind stirred the leaves of the trees, nor ruffled so much as a blade of grass.

The silverwings were silent, the chatter of animals stilled. Lux heard the soft susurration of grave cloth being pulled tight. She drew in a great draught of air, the cold in her lungs jolting her awake again. She blinked shadows from her eyes and let out an icy breath as she drew her magic back into herself. She heard men on horseback, the jingle of bridle and trace, the rasp of metal on metal. Riders, armored for war. At least four, perhaps more. Not yet, and certainly not of men.

Whatever darkness was lurking somewhere in the forest was a more immediate threat. Its strength was uncertain, its abilities feeling like someone testing the limits of what they could do.

Freljordian raiders? That, Lux could deal with. She let the magic simmer just beneath her fingertips, ready to unleash its power in destructive bolts of light. Powerful men, armored head to foot in gleaming warplate. They rode wide chested steeds of gray, none smaller than seventeen hands, and each caparisoned in cobalt blue.

Four had their swords drawn, where the fifth had his golden-hilted blade sheathed in a lacquered blue scabbard across his back. Drawn from any other army, four warriors would be a paltry force, but every warrior of the Dauntless Vanguard was a hero, a legend with tales of valor etched into the metal of their swords. Their deeds were told and retold around tavern tables and hearthfires the length and breadth of Demacia. Flanking him was Sabator of Jandelle, the slayer of the hideous deepwyrm that woke every hundred years to feast, but which would now wake no more.

Slighter, though no less striking was Varya, she who led the charge onto the decks of the sea-wolf fleet at Dawnhold. She set their ships ablaze and even wounded nigh unto death, cut down their berserk leader. Rodian, her twin brother, had sailed north to Frostheld and burned the Freljordian harbor city to the ground, so that no others would dare sail south to wreak havoc again.

Lux knew them all, but rolled her eyes at the thought of hearing their legends around a table tonight. Garen came alongside her as they followed the road back to Fossbarrow. Though any servant of darkness would have had plenty of time to run and hide, given the noise Garen and the Dauntless Vanguard were making. I seem to recall mother saying you hated coming here last time.

Mother was always telling me not to pay attention to the things you did. The words hung between them, and Lux looked away, remembering not to underestimate her brother.

People knew him as honest and direct, with a sound grasp of tactics and war stratagems, but few ever thought of him as subtle or cunning. His entire posture changed, muscles taut and ready for action, his eyes utterly focused. The warriors of the Dauntless Vanguard formed up alongside him, ready to move in an instant. An angry looking crowd was hounding a stumbling man through the streets toward the market square.

Starfire was a fast horse, but even he was no match for a grain-fed Demacian war-steed. By the time Lux rode through the gates, the sound of yelling voices echoed through the town. A woman with the ermine-trimmed robes and bronze wings of a Demacian magistrate stood before him, presumably Magistrate Giselle.

The intensity of their hate was palpable, and Lux felt her magic drawn to the surface of her skin. She quelled the rising light and pushed her way through the crowd, seeing Garen at the foot of the steps leading onto the auction platform. They were monsters! I saw them, their real faces! Only Darkness! The crowd screamed in response, a swelling lust for vengeance erupting from every throat. They looked set to rush the auction platform to tear Aldo Dayan limb from limb, and perhaps they would have but for the four warriors of the Dauntless Vanguard standing with their swords drawn at its edge.

He split three people with an axe before they were able to restrain him. Finally Garen turned to look at her. There must be a mage nearby. A darkness holds sway here. Only the dark influence of a sorcerer could drive a loyal Demacian citizen to commit such heinous acts.

Lux bit back an angry retort and pushed past Garen. She climbed the steps of the platform and marched over to the kneeling man.

His face was bruised, one eye swollen shut from the heavy blow of a cudgel or fist. Blood and snot ran freely from his nose and ropes of drool hung from his split lip. The white of his eye was bloodshot and purple edged, the eye of a man who had not slept in days.

I saw. Among us the whole time! I woke and I saw their true faces! So I killed them! I had to do it. I had to! The last two days had aged her ten years. The magistrate stared down in disgust at Aldo Dayan, her fists clenched at her sides. Just because he was different? Baying cries for vengeance rose from the crowd as the sun sank into the west and the shadows lengthened. Handfuls of mud and dung pelted Aldo Dayan as his former friends and neighbors called for his death.

He thrashed in the grip of the guards, frothing at the mouth and spitting bloody saliva. Just darkness, only darkness. It could be one of you too! The blade glinted in the twilight, its edge unimaginably sharp. There can be only one punishment. A whisper of a lurking presence. It slithered away before she could be sure, but a breath of frigid air raised her hackles.

The body dropped to the platform, twin arcs of blood jetting from the stump of his neck. The spectral darkness launched itself at the magistrate with a cackle of spite. She screamed as it passed through her before dissipating like wind-scattered cinders. Magistrate Giselle collapsed, her flesh ashen, weeping in terror.

Lux dropped to one knee as myriad visions of horror arose within her; choking fears of being buried alive, of being driven from Demacia by her brother, of a thousand ways to die a slow and painful death. Garen spoke in a whisper, and it took her a moment to figure out how she could possibly have heard him over the cheering crowd. Lux turned from the sobbing magistrate, and felt magic race around her body in a surge tide.

Then, one after another, the people of Fossbarrow fell to the ground, as if the life had simply fled their bodies. No two were alike, and Lux saw an assembling host of demons in Noxian armor, vast spiders, many-headed serpents, towering demon-warriors with frost axes, great drakes with teeth like obsidian daggers and scores of things that defied sane description.

The shadow creatures closed on the platform, sliding through the air without a sound. An oncoming tide of nightmarish horrors. Her skills would be best employed elsewhere, and the Dauntless Vanguard could hold their own here. She placed her thumb and forefinger against her bottom lip and whistled a summoning note before turning to Garen.

Lux ran to the edge of the platform as Starfire galloped through the creatures. Her steed passed unmolested, its dreams and nightmares of no interest to the power now abroad in Fossbarrow.

Grasping claws of demon creatures reached for her, but she and Starfire evaded every attack. Lux rode clear of the monstrous host, and paused just long enough to lift her gold-topped staff to him.

Lux turned her horse and galloped from the town. Garen rolled his shoulders in anticipation of the rigor of close-quarters battle and lifted his sword. Varya and Rodian stood to his left, Sabator and Diadoro to his right. Oil black demon-hounds were the first to reach the platform, leaping upward with tearing fangs and flashing teeth.

Garen and the Dauntless Vanguard met them with shields locked and blades bared. A hammering wall of iron beat them back. Though their enemies were wrought from shadow and spite, they fought with ferocious strength and skill.

Garen spun his sword up and pulled back in an oblique turn. He rolled his wrists and lowered his shoulder into its attack. He pushed the thing back and down. He stamped its chest and the beast roared as it burst apart. The impact drove him to his knees. Ashes burst from the demon and Garen spun to drive his sword into the belly of another beast. Sabator decapitated a slavering hound as Diadoro slammed his shield down on a hissing serpent, severing its body in half.

With every killing blow, the shadow creature burst into amber-limned ashes. A hideous, limping creature hurled itself at Rodian, and he thrust his blade hard into its featureless face.

It screeched as it died. But for every shadow they destroyed, more always took their place. They fought shoulder to shoulder in a circle of steel, a beacon of light against the darkness. Lux rode hard through the forest, trees flashing past to either side in a blur. Light shone from the splayed tip of her staff, illuminating her path with blazing radiance. It was reckless to gallop through the forest at such speed, even with her light as a guide, but the nightmares assailing Garen and the Dauntless Vanguard would keep coming.

Human imaginations were a depthless well of nightmares; fear of death, fear of infirmity or fear of the loss of a loved one. She followed the route she had taken only this morning, letting the power of her magic flow into Starfire to grant him sight beyond measure. Lux and her mount flew through the night, eventually reaching the crossroads where the roads diverged. Ignoring the roads east and west, Starfire leapt the overgrown bracken that all but obscured the path north.

The closer she came to the tomb, the more the landscape began to change, taking on an altogether different character — like something from a tale told to frighten small children. The trees wept a sickly black sap, their branches gnarled and twisted into clawed hands that plucked at her hair and cloak. Gaps in the boles of trees resembled fanged mouths, and venomous spiders spun cloying webs in their high branches.

The ground underfoot became spongy and damp with brackish pools of stagnant water — like a grove abandoned by one of the fae folk. Starfire stopped before the entrance to a shadow-wreathed clearing and threw back his head, nostrils flaring in fear.

Its light guttered like a lantern in a storm, but gave off just enough illumination for her to see. Dark smoke drifted into a sky that swirled with images of ancient horrors awaiting their time to claim the world. A young boy, no more than twelve or thirteen sat cross-legged before it, his thin body swaying as if in a trance. Tendrils of black smoke coiled from the tomb, wrapped around his neck like strangling vines.

He turned to face Lux, and she faltered at the sight of his soulless, black eyes. A cruel grin split his face. A looming spider with hook-bladed legs reared over Garen, its bloated belly rippling with distended eyes and snapping jaws. He split its thorax and kicked the flailing creature from the platform even as its body disintegrated.

Legs braced, Garen felt a searing cold in the muscle of his shoulder as a black claw plunged through his pauldron. The metal did not buckle or crack. The claw passed through unimpeded, and Garen felt a sickening revulsion spread through him. He smelled rank grave dirt; the reek of fetid earth over a centuries-old sepulchre. He fought through the pain as he had always been trained to do.

Rodian fell as a hooking blade slid under his guard and plunged into his side. He cried out in pain, his shield lowering. Rodian straightened, chastened at his lapse, as the shadow creatures barged one another in their frenzy to reach the Dauntless Vanguard.

Though she wanted nothing more than to flee this haunted clearing, Lux walked toward the young boy. His eyes rippled with darkness, nightmares waiting to be born from the rich loam of human frailty. She felt a cold, calculating intelligence appraise her. Luca nodded and smoothly rose to his feet. Muttering shadows gathered at the edge of the clearing, monsters and terrors lurking just out of sight as they moved to surround her. Luca grinned, his mouth spreading so wide the skin at the corners of his mouth tore.

Rivulets of blood ran down his chin. I know you can. You have magic within you. I had slept for so long I had forgotten just how sweet the suffering of mortals tasted.

The boy reached out and stroked her cheek. His touch sent a cold spike of terror through Lux. He lifted his finger away, and a smoky thread followed. She gagged as the fear of drowning filled her. A tear rolled down her cheek. It gave me little in the way of real substance, but childish fears are a banquet after I had gone so long without.

Demacia is a terror to his kind. To your kind. Lux felt her magic retreat from this creature, the darkness filling the clearing pressing her light down into little more than a spark. But even a single spark could begin a conflagration that would devour an entire forest. Luca knew that. So easy to fan those flames and draw forth the most exquisite visions of terror. Lux flexed her fingers, the motion painful. But pain meant she had control.

She used it. She nursed the building spark within her, kept it apart from her terror, and let it seep slowly back into her body. The boy laughed. That he is the very thing they hate. A mage. You of all people should know how that feels. Lux thrust her staff toward the boy with a scream of pain. Her limbs burned, and the blow was clumsy. The boy jumped back; too slow. The golden tip of the staff brushed the skin of his cheek.

The Dauntless Vanguard fought with brutally efficient sword cuts and battering blows from their shields, but they could not fight forever. A blow glanced off his shield and hammered into his shoulder guard.

He grunted and punched his sword into the belly of a dark-fleshed beast with the head of a dragon. Garen threw a sword cut into the writhing darkness, a backstroke to the guts and a thrust to the chest. In deep and twist. Movement to the right, a howling insect-like skull with fangs like daggers. He slashed it in the eyes. It screamed and burst apart in smoke and cinders. Two more came at him. No room to swing. Stab the other in the belly, blade out.

The monsters withdrew. Garen stepped back, level with Varya and Rodian. Each was slathered from helm to greaves in ash. Lux poured her light into Luca, and blinding radiance exploded through the clearing. The monster within the young boy was torn loose from his flesh with a howling screech of fury and desperation. White fire enfolded her, becoming everything around them. The growing radiance kept growing until the forest and the tomb were nowhere to be seen, only an endless expanse of pale nothingness.

Sitting in front of her was a young boy with his knees drawn up to his chest. He looked up, and his eyes were those of a small, frightened child. The light swelled again, impossibly bright, and when it faded, Lux saw the clearing was just as she remembered it from seven years ago. The darkness that had so transformed the forest was now absent. The clawed trees were nothing more than ordinary trees, the sky a midnight blue vault of twinkling stars.

The sound of night-hunting birds echoed from the forest canopy. Numbing cold filled Garen. His limbs were leaden, pierced through by shadow claws. Ice running in his veins chilled him to the very heart of his soul as his vision grayed.

Sabator and Diadoro were down, skin darkening. Rodian was on his knees, a clawed hand at his throat. Varya fought on, her shield arm hanging uselessly at her side, but her sword arm still strong. Garen tasted ash and despair. He had never known defeat. Not like this. Now, his life was being sapped with every breath. A towering figure reared up before him, a horned demon with an axe of darkness. It looked like a savage warrior he had slain many years ago. Garen raised his sword, ready to die with a Demacian war-cry on his lips.

The shadow creatures vanished, blown like scraps of charred leaves in a hurricane. The wind and the strange radiance spread across the town square like daybreak, and the shadows fled before it. Garen let out a breath, barely able to believe he still could. Rodian sucked in a lungful of air as Sabator and Diadoro picked themselves up from the ground. They looked around, amazed, as the last remaining shadows were banished and the townsfolk began to stir. Their mood was subdued, and a palpable guilt hung over every person they passed on their way from the town.

Their sons and daughters played with his children. In their rush to judgement, any chance of understanding what caused his murderous acts was lost.

Demacia is beset on all sides by terrible foes; savage tribes in the north, a rapacious empire in the east and the power of dark mages who threaten the very fabric of our realm. We deal in absolutes by necessity. Allowing doubt to cloud our judgement leaves us vulnerable.

And I cannot allow us to become vulnerable. Starting an attack windup against a target with a mark that is about to expire refreshes its duration to 0. Casting Final Spark refreshes the marks of all marked enemies to 1. Upon reaching its destination it returns to Lux, protecting her and other allied Champions it touches for another 2.

Final Spark ignites and refreshes the Illumination debuff. Our ray of sunshine has been struggling in both of her lanes in varying levels of games all levels of play as a support and in high-elo as a mid-laner. With a longer slow, she'll hopefully feel more reliably powerful when casting out her combo and bring more utility to her team. E - Lucent Singularity. Patch Lux can now Flash while casting R.

Q - Light Binding. R - Final Spark.