|Release Date:||August 10, 2010|
|Health:||562 (+ 112)|
|Health Regen:||8 (+ 0.8)|
|Mana:||500 (+ 30)|
|Mana Regen:||9.335 (+ 0.7)|
|Attack Damage:||59 (+ 3.5)|
|Attack Speed:||0.625 (+ 1.5%)|
|Armor:||24 (+ 3.5)|
|Magic Resist:||32 (+ 1.25)|
- Story #1
- Story #2
- Previous Bio
- League Judgement
|Outside the gleaming city of Demacia, the stone colossus Galio keeps vigilant watch. Built as a bulwark against enemy mages, he often stands motionless for decades until the presence of powerful magic stirs him to life. Once activated, Galio makes the most of his time, savoring the thrill of a fight and the rare honor of defending his countrymen. But his triumphs are always bittersweet, for the magic he destroys is also his source of re-animation, and each victory leaves him dormant once again.
Galio's inception began in the aftermath of the Rune Wars, when refugees across the lands fled from the destructive power of magic. Some say that in the west of Valoran, a band of these displaced people were pursued by a vicious band of dark mages. Exhausted from days without rest, the refugees hid among the shadows of an ancient, petrified forest. The sorcerers that pursued them suddenly found their magic to be ineffective in the strange woods.
It seemed the fossilized trees were a natural magic-dampener, and any sorcery used within them would simply fizzle upon casting. No longer helpless, the refugees turned their swords on the dark mages and drove them from the land.
Some decided that this sanctuary from magic was a gift from the gods, others saw it as a fair reward for their terrible journey, but all agreed that this should be their new home.
As years passed, the settlers crafted items of protection from the enchanted wood. Eventually, they found it could be mixed with ash and lime to make petricite - a material with a powerful resistance to magic. It would be the foundation for their new civilization, forming the walls of the new kingdom of Demacia.
For years, these petricite barriers were all the Demacians needed to feel secure from the threat of magic within the borders of their homeland. In the rare event that they needed to settle a conflict abroad, their military proved fierce and formidable. But when their enemies employed sorcery, Demacia's roaming army had little to counter it. The elders of the kingdom decided that, somehow, they needed to take the security of their magic-dampening walls into battle. They commissioned the sculptor Durand to fashion some manner of petricite shield for the military, and two years later the artist unveiled his masterpiece. While it was not what many were expecting, the great winged statue Galio would become vital to the defense of the nation, also serving as a symbol of Demacia's might across Runeterra.
Each time the army was deployed to face a magical threat, they would mobilize Galio. Using a system of pulleys, steel sledges and countless oxen, they would pull the great stone figure to the battlefield. The presence of that much petricite easily nullified almost any arcane attacks, giving the people who had once fled from magic the ability to face it head-on in open warfare. Many would-be invaders were paralyzed by the very sight of the awe-inspiring figure that loomed above the trees before them - the titan who 'ate magic' inspired a kingdom, and terrified those who opposed it. All the while, none thought to consider what exposing the statue to such untold amounts of arcane energy might do...
The strange effect of those magicks would alter the course of history. Demacia had been mired in a grueling battle with Noxian forces in the Greenfang Mountains of northern Valoran. Unbeknownst to the Demacians, Noxus had assembled an elite group of warmages known as the Arcane Fist. As the invading ground forces pinned the Demacians in a great vale, the Arcane Fist bombarded them with crackling bolts of raw mystical power. To the Demacians' shock, the projectiles tore through Galio's anti-magical field.
For thirteen days, the Demacian army was pounded by their foes, and those who survived felt their morale evaporating by the hour. Just when their spirits could be brought no lower, they heard the all-too familiar thunder of arcane explosions tearing through their ranks. But this time, the explosions were followed by a new sound. A slow, deafening rumble shook the vale, as if two mountains were grinding against each other. As a great shadow grew above them, the terrified Demacian troops shuddered, steeling themselves for death.
"Shall we fight?" bellowed a deep voice from above.
To the Demacians' astonishment, the sound came from the towering colossus at their backs. Galio was moving, and speaking, entirely on his own. Somehow, the accumulation of absorbed magic had given him life.
The stunned onlookers gaped at the titan, struggling to make sense of what they were seeing. Before they could comprehend it, another blazing projectile descended toward the Demacian camp on the perfect trajectory to wipe out the few remaining soldiers. Galio threw himself in front of the troops, shielding them, and absorbing the attack with his massive, stone frame.
Galio turned toward the source of the projectile and spotted five tiny humans on the slopes of the neighboring mountain.
"Enemy mages! Let us make violence!" shouted the colossus.
As he bounded up the mountainside, the Noxians focused all their effort into a concentrated funnel of arcane energy that would have melted almost any stone in Valoran. But as the funnel dissipated, the mages saw that the titan remained standing, eyes closed and glowing warmly, as if he was drinking in the offending magic. Then, with an almost youthful enthusiasm, Galio continued up the slopes and squashed the Arcane Fist into the craggy soil.
As the remaining Noxian forces fled, the surviving Demacians erupted with cheers of victory. They were eager to thank the petricite sentinel that had saved their lives, but as quickly as he'd come to life, the fearsome protector had ceased moving, returning to the same pose he'd always held up on his pedestal.
Back home, the bizarre tale of the living colossus was told in hushed tones by the few who had survived the Battle of the Greenfangs. But it was always received with silent incredulity, as one would the tales of a madman. Eventually, those who had witnessed the animation of Galio simply stopped talking about it, out of fear their sanity would be questioned. It became mere legend - perhaps an allegory invented in ancient days to help people through hard times.
No one from the four corners of the kingdom would have believed that the colossus continued to see all that transpired around him. Even while immobile, he maintained his consciousness, longing to experience the visceral sensation of battle once again. Punching enemies with giant stone fists was thrilling, but being trapped in a gargantuan stone body, unable to move, was tragic.
Forced to observe in silence, Galio watched the humans pass beneath him, paying him tribute year after year, like a distant, hazy dream. Though he knew very little about them individually, he began to feel as though he knew them as a people. It puzzled him to see them disappear one by one as time rolled on, seemingly replaced by new bodies with new lives of their own.
He wondered where they went when they vanished. Perhaps they were sent away to be mended, as Galio was when he returned from a fight?
After one of the many battles against the barbarians of the Freljord, Galio saw long columns of men carrying what looked like draped cots back into the city. As the procession filed past him, one of the coverings fell away, revealing the still, pallid face of a young soldier. He was a boy Galio had seen before, and the colossus could not understand why someone so bold would choose to be carried on a covered litter around the city. Galio began to realize the sorrowful answer to his question - unlike himself, the people could not be repainted, or have their damage easily repaired. Humans were frail, ephemeral creatures, and he now understood just how much they needed his protection. Fighting had been his passion, but the people were now his purpose.
Since then, Galio has been able to join the fight only a handful of times, sometimes going centuries without moving. Magic is rarer in the world than it once was, and so he remains in his dormant state, observing the world through the murk of his waking dreams. The giant statue's greatest hope is to be blessed by a magic so powerful that he will never be forced to sleep again.
Only then can Galio truly serve his purpose, to forever stand and fight as Demacia's constant protector.
| "Get behind me, Demacian! You may not have noticed, but I'm very large."
|A HERO WAKES
War was coming, and Galio could do nothing but watch as the Demacian soldiers prepared for it. He couldn't say how long it had been since he last tasted magic. He'd been carried from the plinth many times before, only to return without getting a chance at life. But even when his body was still, his mind was always stirring.
And it longed to fight.
Galio could just make out the bristling rows of northern barbarians in the distance. Even with his senses dulled in this dreamlike state, he could tell their ranks were sloppy and undisciplined, pacing to and fro in eager anticipation of their Demacian foes. Galio had overheard talk of these wildmen many times, given their recent conquests. The fearful people of the city whispered that the Freljordians left none alive, and mounted the heads of their foes on enormous tusks from strange beasts...
But the barbarians were of no interest to the colossus. His eyes found a bigger prize - a titanic shape, seeming almost as tall as the hills behind it. It moved ominously, heaving like the waves of a troubled sea, waiting to be unleashed.
What is that? thought Galio, hopefully. I hope it fights.
Beneath him, his Demacian comrades marched in precise synchronization, reciting a cadence, chanting away all thoughts but battle. To each other, they sounded confident in their victory, but to Galio, who had heard this song so many times before, their rhythms were less certain, more hesitant.
They are not excited to battle this great beast. I will do it for them!
Galio was filled with the urge to scoop up every one of these men in his arms and tell them it would be fine, that he would spring forth and chase the entire invading army back to its borders. But he couldn't. His arms, legs, and claws were as cold and inert as the stone he was hewn from. He needed a catalyst, a powerful magical presence of some kind, to awaken from his living dream.
I hope there's a mage this time, he thought, gazing toward the horizon. Usually there isn't. I hate it when there isn't.
His worry grew as he heard the snorts of exhaustion from the oxen pulling him. They numbered several dozen, and still had to be swapped out with fresh replacements every mile. For a brief moment, Galio thought they might all collapse, leaving him in the outer Demacian brambles while the humans had their fun.
Then, at last, his cart came to a stop at the edge of the battlefield. He knew there would be no parley, no chance that the savage enemy would surrender. Galio could hear the clatter of his tiny human comrades locking shields, forming a solid wall of steel. But he knew that whatever the barbarians' enormous beast was, it would surely cut right through the fine Demacian armaments.
The two sides flew at one another, colliding in a flash of limbs and blades. Galio heard swords clashing, and axes meeting shields. Men from both armies were falling to their deaths in the mud. Brave voices that Galio knew well cried like children for their mothers.
The soft heart of the stone giant began to quiver. Yet still he could not break his paralysis.
Suddenly a shock of blinding purple seared through the fray, causing scores of Demacians to drop to their knees. Galio felt it then - that familiar sensation in his fingertips, like the noon sun warming cool alabaster. He could almost wiggle them...
The flash came again, sapping the life from more heroic Demacian soldiers. Galio's senses came to life with startling acuity, revealing the conflict in gruesome detail. The bodies of men in broken armor were strewn about the field in grotesque contortions. Many barbarians lay slain in pools of their own blood.
And in the distance, behind their lines, their cowardly sorcerer was summoning a crackling orb between his hands, readying his next attack.
There he is. He is the reason I wake, Galio realized, first in gratitude, then in rage. I will squash him first!
But his attention was once again drawn to the monstrous shape in the farthest reaches of the battlefield. Finally, it was coming into focus: a towering behemoth of a creature - covered in thick, matted fur. It struggled against the steel chains that restrained it. Its head thrashed about viciously in an attempt to free itself from the giant blinding cowl that covered its eyes.
Galio smiled. Now that is a foe worthy of my fists.
The barbarians pulled off the behemoth's covering, revealing a snarling, mangled snout beneath a beady pair of jet-black eyes. Free from its blinders, the creature erupted in a fearsome roar, as if declaring itself ready to ravage everything in sight. The monster's handlers released a mechanism that let loose the chains, and the behemoth threw itself into the opposing infantry, instantly slaying a dozen Demacians with just one swipe of a saber-like claw.
Galio was horrified. These were men he had guarded since they were children. He wanted to weep for them, as he had seen humans do in mourning. But he was not built for that. He focused on his purpose and the thrill of the fight that awaited. This was a huge, terrible beast, and he couldn't wait to put his hands on it. He could feel the vitality of life returning to him.
Yes! At last!
The sensation shot through his arms, his head, and all the way to his legs. For the first time in a century, he could move. Across the valley a sound echoed, something not heard in living memory.
It was the sound of a stone giant's laughter.
Galio leapt into the fray, knocking aside the barbarians' crudely built siege engines. Friend and foe alike stopped to gape at the stone titan who was now smashing his way through the front lines. Like a living monument, he burst from the press of soldiers and threw himself into the path of the rampaging behemoth. "Hello, great beast", he rumbled. "Shall I smash you?"
The creature threw its mighty head back and howled, as if in acknowledgment of the challenge. Both titans ran toward one another with earth-shaking force. The behemoth slammed into Galio's mid-section with its shoulder, and let out a groan of intense pain as it crumpled to the ground clutching its collarbone. Galio stood above it, reluctant to smash a prostrate opponent.
"Come now, no need to feel bad", said Galio, eagerly motioning with his hand. "That was a good try. Now hit me again."
The monster slowly pulled itself to its feet and regained the angry glint in its eye. It struck Galio with all its might, its claws raking away a piece of his head.
"You broke my crown", said the colossus, pleasantly surprised, encouraged by the hope of a competitive fight. He struck at the beast with the bottom of his hand, swinging it down like a club with every ounce of his stone frame. The petricite fist collided with the behemoth's flesh, and the surrounding field rang out with the cracking of gigantic bones.
The monster staggered, screaming and swinging blindly, but connecting with nothing.
Galio grabbed the giant beast around the waist in his monolithic arms and wrenched its torso, trying to break its spine. But the behemoth twisted out of his grip, and began to circle him warily before backing away.
"Wait! Our battle must be resolved!" bellowed the colossus. He started to lumber after the beast, hoping it would reconsider its decision to flee.
But the faint cries of his Demacian brethren carried to him on the wind. Without realizing, Galio had followed the monster for hundreds of feet, straying from the heart of the battle. He wanted to fight the creature, but his human comrades needed him.
As the abomination limped away into the distance, Galio gave it one last wistful gaze. "Farewell, great beast."
He turned and thundered back to his comrades. More than half of them were lying on the ground in agony, tortured by unseen coils of power. He knew at once it was the same magic that kept him living.
The stone titan saw the terror in the soldiers' faces, before turning to the malevolent sorcerer once more. Galio knew what he must do, and what the consequences would be.
He leapt high in the air and then came crashing down onto the mage, interrupting his vile incantation, and squashing the barbarian into the loam. The remaining invaders were routed, dropping their arms in terror and fleeing in all directions.
As the sorcerer's magic faded, Galio felt conflicted. The animating force was draining from his body. He'd saved countless lives, but he was being dragged back to slumber.
He didn't understand why he had no magic of his own, like all living things must have. Why had he been made this way? Had that even been his creator's intention? As he felt the cold embrace of his dormancy returning, he took comfort that life itself was magical, and if Galio only experienced it briefly, it was worth it.
Until the final day. Until he would come to break the world's last mage in his unyielding fists, and the stone sentinel of Demacia would awaken no more.
|FLESH AND STONE
"A shadow fades before the light,” the girl repeated to herself.
The words were a mantra, one she often used to put herself at ease when she felt herself losing control. Though she was only thirteen, she had become adept at using tricks like this to ease the symptoms of her affliction. But today she found the words to be little help. Today, the girl needed to be alone.
She fought to hold in the tears, avoiding eye contact with passersby as she walked briskly toward the scrutinizing glare of the sentries at the city gates. If they stopped her, she felt she might break down and spill everything to them. At least then it would all be over, she thought.
But they paid her little mind as she walked through the archway, to the open lands outside the city.
Far off the main highway, the girl found a quiet nook in a wooded hillside. Once she was sure she wouldn’t be seen, she removed a clean handkerchief from her pocket, placed it to her face, and sobbed.
The tears came fast and thick down her cheeks. If anyone had seen the girl like this, they probably would not recognize her. Everybody knew her as the fresh-faced optimist who cheerily bid them Good morning! and Nice to see you! everyday, regardless of circumstance.
The other side of her – this ugly and decidedly un-Demacian one – was a face the girl shared with nobody.
As she stanched the flow of tears with her thin linen cloth, her mind began to settle. She finally dared to recall the events that had led to the tears. She had been in the lecture room with her classmates when her gaze began to wander to an open window. The flock of fuchsia nectarflies outside were far more interesting than the drab lesson in field tactics their instructor was offering. The flies danced, not in unison at all, but in a vivacious chaos that was strangely beautiful. She had taken in their movement, feeling herself warming to the core with an intense happiness.
The warmth was familiar to her. Most of the time it could be tamed, stuffed back inside her like feathers that had leaked from a mattress. But today the warmth was... hot, with a life of its own. She felt it burning, in her teeth, threatening to explode into the world with a fan of iridescent hues as it had only done in privacy before.
For a brief moment, a thin trickle of white light leaked from her fingertips.
No! This is not for anyone to see! she thought, hoping to suppress the glow.
For the first time in her life, it felt too big. The girl had only one chance to save herself. She needed to leave. She stood and gathered her belongings.
“Luxanna,” her instructor had said. “Are you-”
“A shadow fades before the light,” she had muttered, and ran from the room without explanation. “A shadow fades before the light. A shadow fades before the light.”
As she finished drying her eyes in the calm of the woods, her feet carried her farther and farther from the city. She began to assess the cost of the incident. Word would spread quickly across the citadel that a student had stormed out of class without leave. What punishment would she receive for that insubordination?
Whatever was to come, it would be better than the alternative. If she’d stayed, she would have erupted, filling the entire building in the brightest, purest light. Then everyone would know she was afflicted with magic.
That’s when the annullers would come.
Once or twice, the girl had seen the annullers in the streets with their strange instruments, rooting out practitioners of magic. Once these afflicted people were found, they were forcibly relocated to slums outside the kingdom, never to take part in the grand society Lux’s family knew so well.
That was the worst part, knowing her family would be shamed. And her brother... Oh, her brother. She shuddered to think what Garen would say. The girl often dreamed of living in a different part of the world, where people with arcane gifts were revered as heroes, and celebrated by their families. But the girl lived in Demacia, where people knew the destructive potential of magic, and treated it as such.
As she found her situation becoming increasingly hopeless, Lux realized she was standing within view of the Galio monument. The gargantuan statue had been made long ago as a battle standard for the military, accompanying them in their missions abroad. Sculpted from petricite, Galio possessed magic-absorbing properties that had saved many lives from archmage attacks. If one believed the legends, he had even come to life at times, when enough mystical power had seeped into his mortar. At the moment, he stood still as a mountain, straddling the Memorial Road, far from the traffic of the main highway.
Lux cautiously approached the statue. Ever since she was a little girl, she had imagined the old titan keeping vigilant watch over all those who passed beneath him. It seemed to peer into her soul, judging her.
“You have no place here,” it would say accusingly.
Though it only spoke in her imagination, the girl knew it spoke true. She was different. That was undeniable. Her constant smiles and exuberance stood out glaringly among Demacia’s trademark austerity.
Then there was the glow. Ever since she could remember, Lux felt it burning in her heart, longing to burst free. When she was small, the glow was weak, and she could easily conceal it. Now the power had become far too great to stay hidden.
Burdened with guilt, Lux lifted her eyes to the Colossus.
“Well, go on and say it!” she yelled.
It was uncharacteristic of Lux, but the day had not been kind, and it soothed her soul to vent. She expelled sharp breaths of air in relief, then immediately felt embarrassment at the outburst. Did I really just yell at a statue? she marveled, and looked around to make sure nobody had seen. At certain times of the year, this road was flooded with travelers making their pilgrimages to the colossus, paying tribute to the symbol of Demacian resolve. But presently, the Memorial Road was empty.
As Lux was searching for bystanders, she heard a gravelly racket in the air above her. She whipped her head up – it had come from the top of the colossus. It was common for birds to take flight from their nests in the statue’s crown, but this was no bird. It sounded like a heavy clay pot being dragged across cobblestones.
Lux stared for a long while, but nothing stirred about the statue. Perhaps this was her mind again, working through the trauma of the day’s events. Even so, her eyes remained fixed on the colossus, daring whatever had moved to do so again.
And then it did: the eyes of the statue actually shifted. The large stone orbs physically swiveled in their sockets to find Lux in the grass below.
The girl’s face blanched for a moment. She could feel the enormous stone figure studying her. This time, it was definitely not in her imagination. Lux found her legs and ran, away from the statue, as fast and as far as she could.
Later that night, Lux entered the alabaster arch of her family’s city manor. She had walked many miles, all day long, all over the city, in the hope her parents would be asleep when she returned home. But one person was not.
Her mother Augatha sat in on a sofa in the corner of the grand foyer, glowering at the door with burning expectation.
“Do you know what hour it is?” she demanded.
Lux did not respond. She knew it was past midnight, well beyond the hour when her family were typically asleep.
“The school has chosen not to expel you,” said Augatha. “It was not an easy mess to fix.”
Lux wanted to break down crying, but she had done nothing but weep all day, and she simply had no more tears. “They almost saw it,” she said.
“I figured. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
“What should I do?” said Lux, exhausted from worry.
“What we must,” her mother replied. “You’ve lost control of it. Eventually, someone will get hurt.”
Lux had heard of men dying in battle at the hands of sorcerers, bodies melted beyond recognition and souls torn in two. She felt wretched, knowing she harbored any power that might be used for such destruction. She wanted to hate herself, but found herself numbed by the constant torrent of emotions she’d experienced that day.
“I’ve enlisted the help of a professional,” said Augutha.
Lux’s stomach turned. There was only one profession that dealt with her affliction. “An annuller?” she said, light of breath.
“He’s a friend. Someone I should have called on a long time ago,” said Augatha. “You can trust him to be discreet.”
Lux nodded. She knew the shame that was imminent. Even if the man told no one, as her mother assured her, he would still know.
And the cures — she didn’t want to think about those.
“He’s coming for your consultation in the morning,” said Augutha, as she walked up the stairs toward her bedroom. “This will be our secret.”
The words were no comfort. Lux was not even a woman yet, and already her life was over. She wanted nothing more than to retire upstairs to a deep slumber that would bury all her troubles in darkness, but she knew her particular troubles would not disappear with the night. The light would still grow inside her, threatening to erupt again at any moment. The annuller would arrive in the morning to perform some dreadful treatment. Lux had heard rumors, horrible rumors, of petricite ground and swallowed in potions, followed by bouts of excruciating pain. True, the girl wanted to be rid of the affliction, but no part of her wanted to experience that.
Isn’t there another way? she wondered.
The idea leapt into her head like lightning. All at once she was filled with dread and hope, unsure if the plan she’d just thought up would work, but knowing it was something she had to try.
Under the deepening night, Lux frantically retraced her steps, back through the alabaster archway, down the boulevard, sneaking her way past the guards at the gates. To the south, she found the Memorial Road, and followed it for miles before coming to Galio’s resting spot. Her heart galloped in her chest.
“Hello?” the girl asked shakily, unsure if she wanted an answer.
Lux approached the plinth where the colossus stood, all alone in the stillness of night. She cautiously placed her hand on the cold petricite foundation. Wonder what it tastes like. I bet it’s really bitter, she reckoned. She supposed she would find out soon enough, unless her plan worked.
“Well, they say you fix magic,” she said. “So fix me. I want to be Demacian.”
She gazed up at the colossus. It was as inert and unwavering as the Demacian way of life. Not even the bats were fluttering about it tonight. What she had heard before — what she thought she saw — was something she had imagined after all, then. She removed her hand from the plinth, pondering where else she could turn.
“Small girl person,” said a booming voice above.
Lux’s head shot upward to see the statue tilting its enormous head down. Her mind raced. He knows. And he’s not going to fix you. He’s going to squash you like a bug.
“Can you... scratch my foot?” asked the colossus.
Galio watched in wonder as the girl ran away from him, her tiny head shrieking words he could not understand. Though he’d observed her for years, he never knew she could move so quickly, and loudly.
Ever since the girl was very small, Galio had seen her as she stopped by on yearly trips with her family. He would study her with fascination, straining to keep sight of her as she skipped in and out of his field of vision. Then, in the middle of play, she would suddenly remember him standing above her, and she would shy away behind her mother’s skirt. When the colossus was dormant, everything seemed to move with a hazy distortion. The world was dull, people were but flickers before his eyes.
But even then, Galio could feel something profoundly special in the girl. It was a glow, but not just a visual luminescence. Time slowed with her, and the haze lifted as something strange stirred within his stone form.
It started small. When the girl was a toddler, Galio could feel her strange warmth tickling his toes. On her second visit, Galio could feel the glow tugging at his entire leg. By the time she was ten, the girl’s warmth was so strong Galio could feel her approaching from a mile away, and would grow giddy with anticipation of her visit.
Now, here she was again, even though it was not her normal visiting day. Her power burned so intensely it had spread like wildfire across his cold innards. She had brought him life!
Now that Galio was awake, he saw her brilliance with stunning clarity. She shone like all the stars in the heavens.
And she was leaving again.
With every step the girl took, Galio felt his life evaporating, returning him to his cold, motionless state. If he went still, he would never know the girl. He had to follow.
His towering legs rumbled from the plinth, easily catching up to the girl with their enormous gait. Her eyes shot wide as she whirled toward the lumbering colossus. A concentrated beam of light fired from the girl’s fingers into Galio’s leg. The strange feeling within him intensified until he thought he might explode, scattering bits of himself all over Demacia.
But Galio did not break. Instead, he grew even warmer, and more alive. He bent down and gently scooped up the girl in his hands. She covered her face, as if to shield herself from some imminent harm.
The colossus began to laugh, like a child playing in a fountain.
“Small golden-head person,” he bellowed. “You are funny. Please, do not leave.”
The girl slowly overcame her trauma, and responded, “I... I can’t. You’re holding me.”
Realizing his offense, Galio carefully placed the girl back on the ground.
“I am sorry. I don’t often meet small girl people. I only wake up to smash things,” he explained. “Do you have things to smash? Large things?”
“No,” said the girl meekly.
“Then let us find something to smash.” He walked a few booming steps, then turned to find the girl was not following. “Are you not coming, girl person?”
“No,” she replied, even more shakily, unsure if the answer would upset the giant. “I’m sort of trying not to be noticed right now.”
“Oh. Forgive me, girl person.”
“Well. I’m going to go now,” said Lux, in what she thought was a final parting word. “It was nice to meet you.”
Galio followed right behind her. “You are walking away from your city,” he observed. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” she responded. “Someplace I belong.”
The colossus tilted his head at her. “You are Demacian. You belong in Demacia.”
For the first time, the girl saw empathy in the giant, and she felt herself opening up.
“You wouldn’t understand. You’re a symbol of this kingdom. I’m just...” She searched for a word that would tell everything without telling too much. “I’m all wrong,” she said, at last.
“Wrong? You can’t be wrong. You give me life,” boomed Galio, lowering his huge boulder of a face to her level.
“That’s the problem,” said the girl. “You’re not supposed to be moving. The only reason you are moving is me.”
Galio reacted in stunned silence for a moment, then erupted with joyful epiphany.
“You’re a mage!” he thundered.
“Shhh! Please be quiet!” begged the girl. “People will hear you.”
“I crush mages!” he proclaimed. He then quickly added: “But not you. I like you. You are the first mage I’ve liked.”
Luxanna’s fear began to fade, giving way to irritation. “Listen. Even though this is all wondrous and miraculous, I’d really prefer you leave me alone. Besides, people are going to notice you’re gone.”
“I do not care,” insisted Galio. “Let them notice!”
“Don’t!” said Lux, recoiling at the thought. “Please, just go back where you belong.”
Galio stop to reflect, then smiled as though he’d recalled something amusing. “Do that thing to me again. With your wonderful starlight!” he said, far too loudly for Lux’s comfort.
“Shhh! Stop yelling!” she urged. “Are you referring to my affliction?”
“Yes,” said Galio, in a slightly quieter tone.
“I’m sorry. I can’t always do it. And I shouldn’t do it. You have to go,” she insisted.
“I can’t go. If I leave you, I will sleep. And when I wake, you will be gone, small girl thing.”
Lux paused. Though she was mad from exhaustion, she found herself touched by the titan’s words.
“If I can do it again, do you promise to go away?” she asked.
The colossus thought for a moment, then accepted the proposal.
“Okay,” said the girl. “I’ll try.”
She screwed in her hands toward her body and thrust them forward toward Galio. To her disappointment, nothing but a tiny spark of light glinted from her fingers. She tried again, and again, getting less of a result each time.
“I must be tired,” she realized.
“Rest,” suggested Galio. “Then when you are refreshed you can give me your magic.”
“Hmm,” thought Lux, mulling the suggestion. “I can’t get rid of you, and I have no place to go. Suppose I might as well bed down.”
She began feeling around the ground for a comfortable patch of grass. Once she’d found a suitable place, she lay down and wrapped her cloak snugly around herself.
“Well, I’m going to sleep now,” she said with a yawn. “You should too.”
“No. I sleep too much,” replied Galio.
“Can you just... I don’t know, freeze yourself for a while, then?”
“I do not work that way,” said the colossus.
“Then be still and pretend you’re not alive.”
“Yes. I will just stand here and watch you rest, girl person,” said Galio.
“Please don’t,” insisted Lux. “I can’t sleep with you staring at me. Can you... turn around?”
Galio honored the girl’s wish, turning himself away from her, toward the distant lights of the Demacian capital. It was not as interesting as the girl, but it would suffice.
Making due with the modicum of privacy, Lux closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Once she was certain Galio would not turn around, she quietly got up and crept away into the night.
Luxanna walked quickly, knowing her first order of business was getting as far away as possible from the colossus. If she didn’t, her magic would still empower him, and he would surely come looking for her. By morning, every patrol in the kingdom would be searching for the missing Crownguard girl who had vanished in the night. They’d surely notice the walking national monument following her, and they’d know the girl must be the magical source that had awakened it.
Lux’s aching legs quickened to a sprint. She had only a vague idea of her surroundings. It was difficult to find any landmarks at this black hour of night. All she knew for sure was the Cloudwoods were nearby - their thick, towering redbarks forming the skyline to the south. It would be an ideal place to hide from any search parties, and a good foraging ground for breakfast. She could cross the forest in two days time and find shelter in one of the Vaskasian timber villages, where people were unlikely to recognize her. It was not a brilliant plan, by any stretch, but it was the best she had.
Lux could see the beginnings of the forest coming into view, its trees progressing in height like a pyramid, with the largest in the center. As she crossed the threshold of the woods, she paused a moment to grieve what she was abandoning. She would miss her brother Garen, and her beloved steed Starfire, and even her mother, but this was the way it had to be.
A shadow fades before the light, she reassured herself, and then stepped into the blackness of the dense evergreen woods.
After an hour of plowing her way through the barbed, resinous branches of the forest, Lux already found herself doubting her plan. Her stomach was growling, and any confidence she’d had in finding a clear path through the trees had vanished with the brightest moon behind the clouds. All around she could hear the snorts and rustles of nocturnal animals, and that made her nervous.
Just a little light, she thought. Surely just a little won’t hurt, way out here.
She began to conjure a luminescent orb between her hands. For a brief moment, a flicker of light danced on her fingertips, causing an audible ruckus in the creatures around her. 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.
It’s the colossus, she realized. It must be.
She suddenly became aware of voices in the woodland murmur. Slow, purposeful footsteps, and whispers. They were-
An arm shot around Lux’s throat and restrained her. She could sense the presence of at least two other men to her sides.
“Where are you headed tonight, miss?” asked one of the men.
Lux stammered, not quite formulating a response. The man restraining her tightened his grip.
“You’re supposed to be in the annulment slums, yeah?” he said.
“No...” Lux gasped, the man’s arm wedged firmly under her chin. “I’m not...”
“We aren’t fools, miss,” said the third man. “Come on, let’s take you back.”
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.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” said one of them with a scowl. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
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... like gigantic footsteps.
And they were getting nearer.
“What is it?” asked one man, too frightened to move.
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.
“Is it time for fighting?” said the colossus with a grin. “I will engage you!”
He opened his clenched fist, and raised the other hand as if to smash the men between his palms.
“No!” said a tiny voice. “Please stop!”
The colossus found Lux on the ground below, beating on his ankles with her bound arms.
“It isn’t right!” she shouted.
Confused, Galio lowered the men to the ground and released them. Lux heard the quick patter of the men’s feet, sprinting away from her with the urgency of hunted elk. As she wriggled out of her bindings, she gazed up at the colossus.
“I turned around and you were gone, girl person,” he said. “Why are you in the trees?”
“I- I don’t know,” Luxanna managed.
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. These were the sounds of two beings that had found utter contentment in each other’s company.
“I do not usually awaken for this long,” said the colossus.
“Me neither,” said the girl, with an enormous yawn.
“How do people spend time together without battle? Should we have a conversation?”
“No. This is nice,” said the girl. “I feel... calm.”
A frown crossed Galio’s face. There was something different about the girl. Something missing. She no longer shone like the stars.
“Why are you sad? You’ve cured me,” said the girl. “As long as you’re near me, I can return home and be normal.”
Galio did not brighten or look up. The girl continued her thought.
“I mean, maybe I can just come visit you every day to keep my affliction away—”
“No,” said the titan, finally locking eyes with her.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Young girl person, you are special. 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.”
“But it gives you life.”
Galio pondered her words, but only for a moment. His mind was made up.
“Life to me is very valuable,” he said. “But your gift is everything. Never lose it.”
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.
A shadow fades before the light, she thought, and she opened the latch to her front door.
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.
“Luxanna, so glad you decided to return home,” said Augatha, through clenched teeth.
Lux looked warily at the man on the couch.
“This is the man I was telling you about,” her mother whispered. “The one who’s going to fix your... problem.”
Lux felt light-headed, as if her spirit was leaving her body to watch what she was about to say.
“You know what, mother?” she said, her voice trembling with words she’d been longing to say. “I don’t think I want to see this man. In fact, I’d like you to send him away.”
The annuller looked offended. He stood and slung his bag over his shoulder.
“No, stay,” begged Augatha. She cornered Lux and began to speak with authority. “You do not know what you are saying. This man has risked everything to help you. It is the only way you’re ever going to be Demacian. Have you forgotten your afflic-”
“I am not afflicted!” Lux cried out. “I am beautiful and valuable, and one day I will prove it to this kingdom! And if anyone has a problem with me, I’ve got a very large friend they can talk to.”
She strode upstairs to her room, leaving her mother alone with the annuller.
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.
A shadow thrives beside the light, she thought. It had a nice ring to it.
|Long before the regulation of magic, mages experimented with the creation of artificial life. Now forbidden, instilling golems with reason was once not so uncommon a practice amongst the more expert of craftsmen. One such visionary was the Demacian artificer, Durand. Peerless at crafting sentient beings, Durand's constructs served as tireless guardians for the border towns of his beloved city-state, affording them protection from their Noxian neighbors. For his own defense, however, Durand kept his magnum opus: Galio. This mighty construct - forged in the image of a gargoyle - kept him safe on his journeys, allowing him to perform his important work without fear of reprisal from those hostile to his homeland. That is, until dealing with his taxing sentinels finally roused the ire of the Noxian High Command.
As Durand crossed the Howling Marsh with his masterwork in tow, he was set upon by Noxian assassins in force. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, Galio looked on in horror as the murderers cut down his charge, executing him swiftly before vanishing back into the mists. Stripped of his reason for being, Galio despaired. For years he remained in solitude, standing vigil over the bones of the master he had failed to protect... a literal monument to his own everlasting shame.
Then, one nondescript day, a sad but determined yordle girl carrying a mighty Demacian crown stopped in the shadow of the great statue to rest. Hidden in plain sight from his unsuspecting visitor, Galio studied the forlorn yordle. She looked as though she too shouldered a tremendous burden. As quietly and as stoically as she had arrived, she departed in the direction of Demacia. This encounter lit a spark in Galio's eye. Remembering the cause that his master had died defending, Galio arose from his silent purgatory and followed in the wake of this brave creature. He had a new reason to live: to fight for the will of Demacia.
| "There is no such thing as redemption. Only penance."
Date: 10 August, 20 CLE
Galio wears a face as though he is lost in concentration. One may mistake this look to mean the great beast is dumbfounded. His facial features, especially his massive jaw with the exaggerated underbite, give the massive gargoyle the look of a simpleton. This look is intentionally deceptive, magically crafted to lull an opponent into thinking that Galio is mentally slow. The reality of the situation is that he is intently studying what lies before him. The double doors – and the sign above it – are all that matters.
“The truest opponent lies within.”
Galio nods knowingly, but does not move afterwards. His form is literally statuesque.
After a lengthy pause, Galio springs to life, lumbering toward the door. Broad, powerful wings spread wide and slowly beat against the stillness of the air, propelling the gargoyle forward with a not-so-gentle whoosh. He moves as gracefully as a being made of stone and metal can.
The doors swing open, revealing the inky blackness within. The engraved obsidian panthers that flank the doorway point the way inward for Galio. He obliges his stony brethren.
With a sudden flood of light, Galio knew where he was. There was never a chance of him forgetting this place. The clearing was surrounded by a thick copse of fruit trees. In the center of the clearing were Durand’s bones, blanched from countless days of weathering. He could smell the peaches and cherries ripening on the branches.
Galio loathed that smell; the stench of sweet fruit growing, ripening, and rotting in a never-ending cycle reminded him of his failure to save Durand, his creator. He had failed to protect his master from the Noxian assassins who ambushed them, and it was here that he kept a penitent vigil for years afterwards.
I wish they killed me instead. He thought it now as he did back then, but this time he knew something was different. An unwelcome thought masquerading as his own edged its way into his consciousness.
No. I do not.
Galio shifted in place, trying to shake the invasive notion out of his head. He knew it was impossible for him to actually be here, but everything felt real. The sickly-sweet scent of the fruit made him anxious. Was this still the Judgment?
“It is, Galio of Demacia.” The squeaky, yet powerful yordle voice belonged to a female.
Sitting on a nearby stump was a familiar face. He recognized the female yordle, but she was not wearing what Galio remembered her wearing when they first met on this very spot. She wore the armor of a Demacian warrior. He now knew the yordle as Poppy, though when he first met her he did not know her name. He never spoke to Poppy then; in fact, he never even let her know that he was aware of her presence. Poppy had seen Galio standing in the clearing, but she never gave any indication that she thought he was anything more than an inanimate statue.
“You are Poppy.” Galio spoke with words that were carefully chosen. “I know you. This was before you joined the League. I saw you. Here.”
The yordle girl smiled, though she shook her head slightly. “Here... yes, you met Poppy here, but alas – I am not Poppy.” The yordle girl stood and approached Galio, extending her hand. “You know this to be true.” The girl smiled again. “It’s okay if you want to keep calling me Poppy.”
Galio had watched this place for years, but for the first time, he permitted himself an examination of the environment without analyzing for ambush points or areas of defensive weakness. A sudden slight breeze carried the scent of the trees away. He could hear leaves gently rustling. He noticed how the drifting blossoms twirled with each pulse of the wind.
Galio extended his talon-like paw and took the yordle girl’s tiny hand into his own. He could feel the warmth of her flesh on his sculpted hide. “Thank you, Poppy.”
She nodded. “Why do you want to join the League, Galio?”
The pungent fruit smell wafted back into the clearing, making Galio slightly jittery. “I must fight for Demacia. It was my creator’s home.”
Poppy clasped the gargoyle’s remaining free hand. As she stood facing Galio, she looked up at him with kind, yet serious eyes. “Why do you want to join the League, Galio?”
Galio thought carefully about Poppy’s question; he knew this was not the real Poppy, but he could surmise that her image was being used for a reason. He remembered that it was the sight of the determined yordle that broke him from his exile. He knew that she herself bore a tremendous burden. It was the same sort of burden that he too struggled to cope with – the burden of failure. Galio had later learned that Poppy lost her father in an ambush also perpetrated by Noxian assassins.
They had such a horrific event in common, but they addressed it so differently. Poppy became even more resolute to complete her mission – to deliver a crown crafted by her father to a Demacian general. Galio chose... a different path. He now realized that it was his choice and his choice alone to stand vigil not over the remains of his creator, but rather over his own hubris.
He looked away from Poppy for a moment, ashamed. He now knew the answer. “I want to join because it is my choice. It is my own free will. I want to fight for my creator’s... for my home.”
“How does it feel, exposing your mind?”
The pungent odor had dissipated once more. Galio looked down upon Poppy, smiling a slightly fanged grin. “It is... familiar to me. I shared my mind with my creator. I am sharing my mind with you. I will share my mind with any summoner.”
Another flood of light washed over Galio. He stood alone in front of a new set of double doors. There was no pause this time – Galio swung the doors wide and entered the League of Legends.
- February 17th, Nerfs are coming in Patch 8.5 for Azir, Ryze, Tristana, and Galio by Aaron Mickunas on DOT Esports
- Galio's Champion Page
- Universe of League of Legends Page
- Champion Insights: Galio, the Colossus
- Champion Update: Galio, the Colossus
- Champion Sneak Peak: Galio, the Sentinel's Sorrow
Journal of Justice
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