A/N:
I love Syndra. I've played her ever since I really got into League. Unfortunately, this champion came out after they stopped the League judgments, which I found sorely disappointing. I'm certain that I'm not doing Syndra any justice here (hah pun) but I try my best. The following chapters, if I get to them, will be in first person.
Tell me what you think! If you're interested, let me know.
Candidate: Syndra
Date: 24 December, 21 CLE
OBSERVATION
Burning magenta eyes sear through the dancing black-blue shadows. They remain unfaltering against the frigid, wintry gale that whips across the Great Hall. As she floats under towering, frosted panels, the midnight-blue air around her sizzles and crackles, warping under the sheer power that pulsates through her body. The sliver of moonlight that trickles in from icy windows reveals her flowing, silvery hair, which drapes over her elaborate obsidian dress. The shimmering tails of her gown twitches and flickers behind her, whisking itself around three, dark spheres that obediently revolve around her body.
Syndra pauses at the great marble gate in front of her. She lands softly, her arms outstretched to her sides and bent slightly, quivering as her bare feet brushes against the glossy marble. Balancing herself, she peers up at the words carved intricately into the door.
"The truest opponent lies within," her lips curving into a slight smirk as she mouths the words.
A menacing purple aura suddenly devours the door; against its will, the entrance is slammed open. Syndra laughs, a cacophonic orchestra of voices, as she strides into the darkness.
REFLECTION
Almost at once, the unyielding, stony chamber she had stepped into shifted into the idyllic, Ionian countryside she had long since abandoned. A tremor tickled up her spine as the soft, lush grass brushed against her bare feet. Her nose twitched to the delightful scent of spicy lilac and sweet jasmine. This was the beautiful country she had left behind, she realized, her mouth widening in disbelief. This was the scenic island that she had almost forgotten; tears blurred her sight as she gazed at the beautiful, budding cherry blossoms that adorned the field.
Her awestruck expression twisted into a scowling face when she remembered where she was.
"Play time's over," she growled, whirling in the air skeptically. "Get on with it."
If you wish, a voice echoed in her head.
A legion of battle cries flooded her ears, and Syndra quickly swirled to face the commotion. Charging at her was an army dressed in cherry red and spiraling white, their weapons and armor gleaming under the morning sun.
A grim smirk darkened over Syndra's face as she raised her arms. They glowed hesitantly, her user unwilling to channel forth the energy she kept under restraint. But her complexion steeled. If they wanted to take her powers away, they would have to pay for it. With a flourish of her body, she raised herself higher into the sky before thrusting her hands down at the soldiers. Glaring with a bright, violet light, her hands flashed as a purple beam of arcane magic zipped towards the infantry.
She watched as their eyes widened with fear, dodging, too slowly, out of the radius of her spell. Upon contact with the ground, it exploded immediately, knocking the troopers off their feet with a blaze of magenta. Those who faced the blunt of the blast dissipated immediately; others, crying in bloodcurdling agony, clutched at whatever were left of their torn bodies. Syndra, quivering slightly at the destruction in front of her, raised her arms again.
"Please," a trooper choked as blood bubbled up his throat. "Please, stop this madness!"
Syndra froze in her movement, as if jolted awake by his voice.
"I beg you," he coughed an obscene amount of scarlet blood onto the decaying grass. "Stop. Return to balance. Forget all that has happened!"
Her hands faltered as she hesitantly drew her arms toward her chest. What have I done?! Her face distorted, dismayed at the massacre she had caused. I…I did this, she realized, horrified. So much suffering… so much destruction…
Sharp, searing pain suddenly ripped through her sides. She gasped loudly, buckling as she lost her balance and pummeled towards the ground. Upon crashing, Syndra looked down and saw an enormous blade protruding from her waist. She was only appalled for a moment. Enraged and furious, her eyes glowed with an obsidian-purple. Her silver hair and black gown whisked around her, rising into the air as she ripped the very soil in front of her out of its roots.
With a piercing shout, she hurled the gigantic piece of rock at the soldier who had deceived her. Raw, primal fear dilated his eyes, and he gave off a bone-chilling cry before being squashed under the weight of the boulder.
So much untapped power… she panted as she struggled to her feet, oblivious to the stream of blood flowing down her legs.
An ecstatic grin washed over her face as she laughed, deliriously, at the carnage in front of her. She was unstoppable, she thought, invincible, immortal, omnipotent, and more powerful than any other being-
Syndra moaned as another blade tore through her body. The two extensive injuries were far too much for her to handle. Cringing in torment, she collapsed against the defiled grass, stained with entrails and blood. Her blood.
"Your reign is over, Dark Sovereign," a firm voice declared behind her. "You have betrayed centuries of tradition, backstabbed the virtue of balance. Now, you must pay for it."
"No, not like this," Syndra sobbed as she shook her head profusely, feebly raising her arms at the sentient blade that whizzed around her. Just before it plunged into her flesh, she cried out once more; this time, her voice was a pulsating sound wave that rippled through the grasslands. The sky cracked open in response, sending bolts of blinding electricity down upon the open field. Irelia stumbled back, barely getting out of the way of one. Trees heaved and twisted under tempestuous winds, and even the mountains, etched far into the horizon, trembled and shook under the malignant heavens. An enormous ray of pure ebony then shone on the mage. Irelia, awestruck yet terrified, gaped as the Dark Sovereign slowly ascended into the sky.
As she rose into the turbulent air, the splattered blood, wounds, and blades impaled in her were whisked away by seething shadows. The same vengeful spirits then wrapped around her body, enshrouding her in a veil of darkness save for her scorching, incarnadine glare.
"You are wrong!" her voice thundered over Irelia. "It is you who shall be wiped off this earth!"
The howling winds intensified as Syndra raised one finger at her. Crackling waves of black electricity sparked down her arm, focusing at a single locus just off the tip of her finger. There was a high-pitched whistle as a thin streak of energy protruded from the sphere, which instantly impaled the Will of the Blades.
"Do you regret," a wheezing voice questioned her. "Your actions that day?"
Syndra remained silent as the Ionian countryside scorched away. Only until the final specks of the illusion died out did she speak.
"It is justified," a multitude of voices responded, coldly.
Why did you join the League?
She didn't like hearing voices in her head, even if it belonged to wizened, old men. Syndra lunged forward, jabbing her index finger on the summoner's forehead before forcing herself into his mind.
Listen, old man. I joined the League because I can. And I will.
With one flick of her wrist, Syndra sent the senior summoner tumbling against the wall. Her lavender lips twitched into a half-smile as she left the antechamber.