Shyvana

Though they are rare creatures now indeed, there exist a handful of places across Runeterra where the great elemental dragons still nest.

Long after the fall of the Shuriman empire, in the chambers beneath a lost volcano, the elder beast known as Yvva guarded her clutch of eggs. Beyond the depredations of rival drakes, dragon eggs were priceless almost beyond a mortal’s comprehension, and so many were daring or foolish enough to try their luck. Yvva feasted upon the charred remains of a score or more would-be thieves over the years… before one succeeded in his attempt.

The mage ran—but before long, the egg began to hatch. Whether it was the act of removing it from the nest, or the last moon of autumn giving way to winter, something had changed. It was no infant dragon that emerged, but an apparently humanoid baby girl with pale, violet skin, and the mage found he could not bear to abandon her. He raised the child as his own, naming her Shyvana after the dark legend of her brood-mother.

It became clear that Shyvana was no mortal. From an early age, she was able to shift her form into something monstrous, akin to the half-dragons of ancient myth. This made living among the common folk of Valoran difficult, to say the least. But as she grew, the more confidently she soared—stretching her wings, hunting prey.

And it was only a matter of time before she stumbled into her mother’s territory. Yvva, uncaring that Shyvana was her own blood, chased her out with inhuman fury. Thinking she had escaped, Shyvana returned home… only to realize all too late that her mother was far from done with her.

She screamed in anguish as her adopted father was engulfed in dragonflame.

Even as she dragged him into the nearby forest, she knew there was nothing more she could do. She buried him in a simple grave beneath a spreading oak, and set off alone.

After many months hiding in the wilds, always on the move, Shyvana picked out the faint scent of blood and fire. Yvva was raining her wrath down upon the people of a subterranean settlement, with only a Demacian scout and an azurite eagle to fend her off. Not one to stand idly by, Shyvana leapt into battle alongside this scout, who she would later learn was named Quinn. The battle was hard-won, but the Demacian fought with courage and honor. That was something Shyvana could respect.

Probing the woods for any sign of Yvva’s vengeful return, Shyvana instead found a wounded warrior, close to death. Without a thought for the beast that hunted her, she assumed her half-dragon form and carried the unconscious man far away, to an outpost on the borders of Demacia.

There, in the castle at Wrenwall, Shyvana discovered that this warrior was none other than Prince Jarvan—the king’s only son, and heir to the throne. Though the stationed soldiers regarded her scaly skin and strange manners with some suspicion, the prince vouched for her with his family crest, and she was made welcome.

But Shyvana sensed darkness on the wind. Yvva was coming.

The recovering prince, knowing that he had to marshal Wrenwall’s garrison, brought the terrified locals inside the stronghold in preparation for the coming battle. Even so, Shyvana prepared to escape into the wilderness and draw the creature after her instead, until Jarvan confronted her, and she admitted that this approaching dragon was of her own blood. She could not allow innocent people to die for that.

Jarvan refused to let her go. Shyvana had saved his life, so it was only right that he fight at her side, now. Moved by his offer, she accepted.

As Yvva came into view, Demacian archers loosed volleys of arrows to keep her distracted. In retaliation, she bathed the battlements in flame, tearing at the stonework with her powerful talons and sending armored warriors tumbling from the parapet. It was then that Shyvana leapt forth, transforming in mid-air and bellowing a challenge to her brood-mother. In a sight seldom witnessed in Valoran since the Rune Wars, the two dragons clashed, tooth and claw, in the skies over Wrenwall.

And finally, bleeding from a dozen wounds, Shyvana grappled Yvva to the ground, and broke the creature’s neck upon the flagstones.

The prince himself honored Shyvana’s bravery, and promised that she would always have a place at his side, if she would return with him to his father’s halls. With Yvva’s skull as proof of their triumph, they set out for the Great City of Demacia together.

Shyvana has learned that King Jarvan III’s realm is somewhat divided—with the people’s distrust of mages and magic putting them at odds with the noble ideals upon which it was founded. While she has found a measure of acceptance as one of the prince’s most trusted guardians, she is left to wonder whether that would still be the case if her true nature were more widely known…