𝐷𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑛 ／／𝐴𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑉𝑖𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑋 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

1

"Look what I found!" The little girl beamed at she held up a old, beaten book up for the boy to see. "It was over by the bridge, there's nothing inside of it yet!"

"(Y/N), you know you can't go up there taking stuff! Last time you did that you almost got caught by an enforcer," he scolded, shaking his head.

"But I was extra careful this time," she whined, opening the book. Each page was in pristine condition, not one bit of ink or graphite on it. "I can practice a lot of drawings! Just wait, I'm gonna be the best artist the Undercity and Piltover has ever seen! And you can do your sciency stuff!"

A chuckle escaped his mouth as he patted the top of her head. "I know you will be."

I can't seem to remember his name. I'm not sure why. I know that he was a very important part of my life and yet the only thing I remember of him is that he had the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

I still had that sketchbook, too. The pages now covered with different drawings ranging from fruits, scenes, and even people. It was that book that changed my life.

Every time I wanted to draw, I always sat by the bridge leading to Piltover, drawing whatever I saw. The enforcers didn't really mind me being there, once in a while a couple of them would look at what I was drawing.

I remember an older woman around her 30's walking to me, asking what I was doing. Showing her the book, I watched a warm smile grow on her face.

"You drew those?" I nod. "Are you from Piltover?" I shake my head.

"Hm, well what is you're name?"

"(Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, (Y/N). I'm Amaya Wesson."

She then did something strange. She sat down on the dirty floor next to me.

She got so many dirty looks from everyone walking by, people whispering stuff like 'what is she doing?' and 'why is she sitting with that dirty kid?'. She paid no mind to them. That's probably why I admired her so much.

"May I see some more drawings?" She asked. She always had a gentle tone when she spoke, her eyes glistening with kindness and curiosity.

I handed her the sketchbook, letting her look through the book. "Ah, that's why this looked so familiar. My husband has so many of these sketchbooks! You're very talented, you know that right? I'm sure you're parents are very proud of you."

"I wouldn't know," I told her. "They passed away when I was little."

"I see. Well, why don't I introduce you to my husband? I think he'll love to see you're talent."

It was that moment that everything changed. She went home, got her husband, and took me to a park near her home to meet him. He instantly took a liking to my art. Then, one thing led to another and the couple brought me in as their own. I told the boy I would go visit him as much as I could, but as soon as I started living in Piltover I was put into school and didn't have time to see him.

That was over 10 years ago. Now I'm 23 and a student in the art department at the Academy.

"(Y/N), the tea is ready," Mother, aka Amaya, popped her head into my art studio. "Hurry up, I don't want it to get to cold."

"Alright, alright. I'm coming," I said, pushing myself away from the oak desk that was littered with sketches and art supplies.

We both walked down the long hall that lead to the living room. A large variety of different paintings me and my father, aka Ian Wesson, hung on the walls along with a few that some other painters made. Mother pushed open the large door to the living room, walking in with me following behind.