Tags: Irelia, Syndra, Drama, Tragedy.

Irelia curses quietly as she sleepily stumbles towards the door, her animated pair of floating blades following right behind her, clumsily slamming into furniture and the walls of the dark room alike.

"I'm coming! I am coming!" The black-haired warrior hoarsely croaks out as she fumbles with her keys while nearing the door, the dulling weight of sleep still partially shrouding the bleary martial artist's mind with some lightheadedness. The pounding on the door stops as Irelia absentmindedly pushes a wild strand of midnight black hair away from her eyes and finally manages to insert the key into the lock after the third try.

"Alright," the sleep-deprived Will of the Blades, sighs as she opens the door. "Now what seems to be the problem?" But the only answer the Ionian hero receives is Syndra shouldering past her and then unceremoniously sitting herself at the edge of the martial artist's bed.

Irelia pauses by the door blinking owlishly, attempting to recall if she had even woken up while getting out of the bed or if she was still dreaming. The Will's sentient weapon seems equally confused by the unexpected visit of the Dark Sovereign. The mystical enchanted blades shifting about as if they are attempting to chase away a particularly bizarre dream or a strange reoccurring nightmare.

'Can a soul dream while its body is wide awake?' Irelia silently wonders as she slowly closes the door and tentatively attempts a few steps towards the powerful sorceress that's currently taking big swigs out of a brown bottle while sitting on the edge of her mattress.

"Dark Sovereign?" Irelia mouths carefully with some hostility ending up coloring her tone as the martial artist proceeds to light the old oil lamp that's placed on top of her plain bed-stand.

"I have an actual name just like you, Captain Lito, it's just that you don't deem me worthy enough for you to use it." The younger woman drunkenly slurs, the strong stench of alcohol mixed in the sorceress' breath making Irelia grimace.

"You are drunk." The renowned Ionian hero mutters in clear indignation. Irelia pinches the bridge of her nose, the Captain's scowl immediately deepening when the obviously inebriated spell caster on her bed quickly replies with, "and your a bitch, Cap'n Lito."

The next few seconds Irelia is far too busy reining in her sudden impulse of accidentally skewering the Dark Sovereign with her animated steel for her to prevent Syndra from downing another generous gulp of strong, foul-tasting alcohol.

"Why are you here?" The scowling Captain harshly demands from the drunken mage and Syndra pauses for a second, before raising mournful lilac eyes to meet the striking green gemstones of Irelia's cold glare.

"Why I'm here?" Syndra slowly repeats in a slurred breathless tone. "You want me dead, Captain? Beaten to death? Burned alive on a stake and then fed to the dogs for my crimes against Ionia?"

Syndra takes a short whizzed breath as the witch's fingers tighten their hold on her half-empty liquor bottle. "Is that your preferred brand of justice now, Irelia?" The Dark Sovereign continues observing the quiet martial artist as a tense silence abruptly spreads around them like a suffocating veil.

The young witch waits for a few minutes in silence before Syndra averts her gaze after a while, when the martial artist refuses to answer to her harsh drunken taunts. Downing an unhealthy sip of muddy liquid from the brown bottle, the Dark Sovereign's gaze helplessly returns back to the carpeted floor under her footwear.

"I don't wish for your death, Dark Sovereign." Irelia slowly whispers after a tense and very long pause. The animated blades of the Ionian hero simultaneously descending behind her so that the Ionian hero can sit on top of their flat side opposite to the quite inebriated spell caster.

"You still aren't using my name, Captain Lito." The drunken woman on the martial artist's bed ruefully replies in return with a downcast look on her fair visage. And Irelia sighs from her unconventional floating seat across the powerful and unpredictable sorceress before deciding to once again open her mouth.

"Syndra then," the well-respected Captain of the Ionian Guard grudgingly abides by the Dark Sovereign's wishes, tasting the name of the rogue spell caster as it rolls off her tongue. Surprisingly enough, Irelia muses that she could perhaps get used to addressing the powerful sorceress by name given enough time. If she absolutely had to, of course…

"I don't despise you as much as you believe, Syndra. Certainly not enough for me to want you to perish. Be it by my own hand, my blades… or another…"

"Then WHY?!" Syndra suddenly shrieks as she raises her gaze from the floor and Irelia can already see the tears glimmering behind the amethyst eyes of the dark sorceress. "Why do you deny me my rightful place?! Why do you keep pushing me away whenever I approach you?! If you don't truly hate me as you just claimed, why do you deny me my birthright, ignoring my need to be in the presence of my own soulmate?!"

"W-why?" Syndra mutters in bitter resignation as her lilac-colored orbs practically beg Irelia for an answer. "Why won't you have me, my Fated One?"

The black-haired woman's face remains as neutral and as impassive as possible even though Irelia's soul is currently openly weeping inside its crimson phylactery that's attached on the very center of the floating silver blades.

"Because your soulmate is dead." The Will of the Blades finally whispers slowly, softly. "Irelia Lito, your Bonded One, is not here with us right now. You are merely speaking to her moving corpse."

And as if to completely convince the crying woman that's sitting before her, the undead lich carefully grasps the Dark Sovereign's wrist in her hand and guides Syndra's palm towards her still, silent heartbeat.

"N-no…"

The shade of the fallen Ionian war hero watches over the rogue spell caster when Syndra predictably breaks down on the spot, agonizingly bursting in tears as the horrifying truth finally dawns downs on her.

The sentient weapon that's cursed with life can only watch the heart-wrenching scene with newfound despair, immense sadness overwhelming the soul of the once proud, dead warrior.