Unleashed Potential

by RoastyMyToasties

The old fortress of Fae'lor, long protecting the earth-swallowed evil, lays suspended like a toy in the skies off the coast of Ionia. The thing that resided within was anathema to the old powers of Ionia, to the traditions that bound their nation together as one. The master of shadows stood outside its suspended gates, wondering what he'll find within.

Deep inside an Ionian forest, far from any settlements and completely inaccessible by foot, stands a collection of squat stone buildings with a tall shrine erected in the center. Unimpressive walls surround the collection of rocky buildings, crumbling in some sections but still relatively intact. It was rumored to be an ancient monastery built many years ago, for monks tending to a nearby site with religious importance, but it has long since been abandoned.

Nature has long claimed portions of the monastery's grounds with twisting vines and weeds. Its remote location and relative ugliness compared to the rest of Iona has allowed it to slip completely from the memories of all, except a select few who know its modern purpose.

The monastery lay silent and dark, but beneath the earth lies a matrix of tunnels and rooms dug out over years. The tunnels had first sprouted from the cellars beneath every house and building, connecting to each other like a spider's web. Then the builders had turned their shovels downward, gouging long tunnels into the earth. The construction had been completed quickly using magical means, and had been kept secret with the threat of death. Once the mess of tunnels had been completed the entrances had been demolished, sealed and hidden, with only a few pinprick vents to keep the air breathable connecting it to the surface at all. Buried in totality, it may as well not exist to anyone outside its walls.

Zed sat motionless on a mat, legs crossed and silent. He was in a well-lit training dojo, sitting on a raised platform in front of the main floor. Before him, two young men were battling for their lives. Their bodies flowed between each bone-jarring strike, and they darted around countless swipes and feints between every truly deadly blow. Zed observed the form of these two students, noting how one's eyes were locked on his opponent's weapon. He waited until his opponent struck, then battered his weapon away and went for the kill.

Zed had known the outcome by their second physical engagement, but sat silent through the past few minutes of fighting. Finally, the match ended with a sprained elbow and a scythe held threateningly to a neck. Zed stood up, and the two students quickly whipped around to face their master in a bow.

"Excellent form, Kayn. You do not disappoint," said Zed.

"Thank you, master Zed. I learned it all from you."

"Hm. Now, Camui, head up."

The losing student stood up straight, looking squarely ahead and awaiting his punishment for losing.

"Strike me," said Zed flatly.

"What?"

"Do you intend to make me repeat myself?"

"No master," replied Camui quickly.

Kayn remained bent over as Camui aimed a deathblow at Zed's neck, preparing to swing with everything he had at his master. The blade arced towards Zed's neck, then stopped a hair's breadth from his skin. Camui nearly lost his footing from the sudden stopping force, but kept his balance in the end.

"Tell me what you see," Zed said slowly.

"Your shadow's blade stopping mine, master."

"Do you know what I see?"

"No, master."

"I see a dangerously misaligned edge, along with a blow with far too much of yourself behind it." Zed pushed his student in his core, and he almost toppled over. "Did you feel how you stumbled when your blade stopped? Had my neck been a Noxian shield, you would be dead. They are experts at slaughtering untrained pisants. You're trying to take a life, not lop firewood, yet even a lumberjack could align the edge of his ax better than you."

"I'm sorry master," Camui said hurriedly.

"I've no use for sorry assassins. You are dismissed."

"Thank you master," he said, turning and walking quickly to the entrance of the dojo.

As Camui walked past him, Kayn snickered inaudibly. But inaudibly wasn't quiet enough for the master of the shadows.

"Don't be so gratuitous, Kayn. You may have won the fight, but Camui walks away the victor."

"…How, master?" Kayn said, flustered.

"The fight is now over, and in the end you are both still equals in this order. But Camui now has focus to his training, clear areas to improve, as well as experience from fighting a superior opponent. You, on the other hand, learned nothing, and need to find a new sparring partner. You are dismissed."

"Of course, master Zed," Kayn said, disappointment clear in his tone. He turned to leave, trudging out to return to his quarters. Zed felt he may have taken that lesson too personally.

"Kayn."

"Yes master?" He replied, turning quickly to face him.

"You fought well. I'll spar with you again soon, we'll see how much you've improved."

"Thanks master!" Kayn exclaimed, excitement rushing into him, inflating his form. He gave a shallow bow and trotted out of the dojo, scythe swaying at his side.

Zed shook his head. The boy was a fire, fickle and scorching, ravenously consuming everything that passed his way. It was no way for an assassin to act, but his raw talent was commendable to say the least. But the attitude would come with age and experience, and for now Zed was content to watch his apprentice blaze through his training at a frightful pace.

—

Zed retired to his room, alone after a long day. He was sunk deeply into an old wickerwork chair as two of his shadows moved before him. They were juggling four incredibly heavy steel balls, deftly tossing and catching them in a fluid and unceasing motion. They made a ring, then an X, switching their pattern unpredictably to try and make the continuous juggling as hard as possible, putting on a show like a pair of circus preformers.

It was an old exercise Zed had long ago mastered, but he found the focus needed for the act to be relaxing. His body was sapped of energy, but his mind had gone the whole day unexercised.

A knock sounded on his door.

"Come."

Kayn hurried into the room and dropped to a knee. In his hand was clutched a scroll of parchment, crumpled slightly by his grip.

"Master Zed, news of the war."

Zed sighed. "Has Noxus finally made a move on the southern beachfront?"

"News from Fae'lor."

Four heavy thuds echoed in the room.

"She is loose."

—

Zed stood on a bluff overlooking the harbor, the evening sun just beginning to dip past the edge of the ocean. An orange glow was cast upon what was left of the seaside fort.

It was beautiful, in a surreal sort of way. Boulders and trees, dirt and stone, ramparts and splintered wood all hung suspended in the air as if it was their natural place, as if they had always been there. Rubble and destruction trailed lazily up from the ground, looking as if the sky was sucking up what laid here on earth but froze its rampage halfway through.

At the end of the trail was the fortress, proud and imperial, hanging in the air as if strung from the stars themselves. The debris stood completely still, frozen in time in a broad, winding trail falling from the underbelly of the castle. As the orange glow cast faint shadows on the ground below, Zed couldn't deny that this otherworldly sight was as beautiful as it was horrifying.

Zed blinked to the gaping chasm where the fortress had once stood, walking up to a shattered plank that hung not a foot off the ground. He reached out his foot and touched it, testing if it would budge.

It felt as if it was bolted to the very air itself, completely unreactive to any amount of pressure he put upon it. Good. Zed stood up straight and scanned the floating rubble. Eyes darted from suspended barrels to floating stones, marking pools of shadows where the sun's light couldn't reach. Once he had decided on a path, he began.

One at a time, dozens of shadows imitating zed slinked from the darkness, crawling into position, and soon there was a host of himself standing at odd angles on floating floorboards and suspended chucks of earth. They were formless, weaponless, the bare minimum to allow him to switch places with them. He began to rapidly blink to every shadow, only being in one place for a fraction of a fraction of a second. The shadows dissolved themselves after he had warped through them, their purpose fulfilled.

It wasn't long before he stood at the destroyed gate of the castle itself, eyes scanning the courtyard for any possible threats. Hundreds of bodies surrounded him, a fresh, wet battleground. His gaze shot up to a window near the top of the main keep, and Zed knew he had found his target. Faint purple light was coming out of the window, and he could just barely hear the sound of movement floating on the breeze.

As Zed began to silently make his way towards the base of the keep, he wondered what he hoped to accomplish here. He of course knew of Syndra, knew the unimaginable power the stories talked about. Was he here to find out if the stories were true? No, he had no doubts. Ionia itself had swallowed her to contain her, and his surroundings didn't entail fakery.

Was this for the war? Possibly. The fact that it had been Ionians who had trapped her certainly meant that she would not help them, and that made her a threat to be eliminated. But that wasn't all, he could feel it. Something was drawing him here, he couldn't think of anything else. It could be the ephemeral spirit of this land guiding his footsteps, or it could just be an assassin's instinct driving him forward. He didn't know why, but in his bones he knew he needed to be here. Alone.

—

Syndra paced back and forth in the large room. It had only been a few hours since she had wrenched this infernal fortress from the ground and made it her home, yet already she felt imprisoned again within its confines. She knew word of her escape would spread quickly, she knew she would be hunted, she knew there was no place for her down there in the dirt of Ionia.

Maybe she should leave, find somewhere else to live, try and get as far away from this wretched place as she could. But no matter how much she hated Ionia, she knew she didn't wish to leave. It made her angry thinking about it, but she knew she wanted to stay. There was nothing for her here, only exile and hate. But Syndra knew there wouldn't be a place for her anywhere else either - not for someone like her. Something like her.

Ionia was beautiful and magical, but the people seemed hellbent on refusing to let her live in peace. There was no other place like Ionia, no other place where her magic would feel so natural. It came as easy as breathing, she didn't even have to think about holding up this massive fortress. Magic flowed through this land like water, surrounded it like air. It rained down upon the land like rain, and simply existing here made some part of her soul happy. Nowhere else could she be so free, but so shackled.

There was the war that the whelp had begged her to join, as apparently Noxians had invaded Ionia and took this fortress some while ago. Serves them right. But from the little she knew of noxus, she was sure that she didn't wish to go there. Noxus respected power, but that's where any and all of Syndra's interest for Noxus died. She would rather stay in Ionia with every soul inside it bent on her destruction than step a foot into that foul empire.

Maybe she should just end this war her own way, strike now before the people could arm themselves against her and tear out a swathe of land for herself. No, that would be far too troublesome. Even if she did do that, she would have to endlessly defend it from outsiders and opportunists, and that would only make more problems instead of solving them.

Syndra flicked her finger and sent a chair screaming through the air at a wall in frustration, earning a shower of splinters in return. She didn't know what she wanted. She wanted to live in Ionia, but she hated the idea of living among Ionians or Noxians. But she didn't want Ionia itself, being able to call a troublesome field of dirt her own held no appeal. No, nothing seemed to hold any meaning for her. At least she took some solace in her power. She knew she could take whatever she wanted, she could easily decide the fate of the war on a whim if she only cared enough to, or if one side would actually benefit her at all.

Syndra looked down at her hands. …Could she? Against all of the invading armies of Noxus, against the fighters of Ionia, could she really defeat them all? Footsoldiers and armed peasants would obviously pose no threat, but they would surely send more than that to fell her. There were powerful spiritualists in Ionia, and they had succeeded in sealing her away once before. And who knew what kind of sorceries Noxus held, what odd magicks they could pull from far flung corners of their empire to challenge her.

As Syndra stood in the fortress she had hoisted into the sky on a whim, she didn't know if she was truly powerful enough to do anything at all. She looked out her window, down through the courtyard and past the crumbling gate to the calm seas below. Could she even do something like this again? As she willed her magical power to come sit on her fingertips, she wasn't sure she felt enough in herself to repeat her feat.

And it infuriated her.

She couldn't do something, and that was wrong. Syndra refused to accept the fact that she wasn't powerful enough. Refused to accept that there were limits to her power, refused to accept that there were things beyond her abilities. She felt the black rage rise from her gut, and with it came a rush of magic she knew was far more powerful than what she had used before to rip this fortress from the dirt. I could do it again, twice over - no, three times over if I wished to.

But as the flare of hate faded, as it receded back into her as quickly as it had arisen, it was replaced with a gnawing sadness she couldn't ignore. As she looked at her hands again, feeling the raw power they could unleash diminish, Syndra was disappointed.

"Is hate all I have?" Syndra said to herself.

"Is it?" echoed a voice all around her.

Syndra shot up into the air, scanning the room for the source of the malignant voice. It echoed far too much in the small room, as if it spoke over and over from the walls themselves.

"Who dares enter MY domain!?" Syndra shouted as she summoned an orb, black as the void itself.

"Tell me. Who are you?" the voice replied, ebbing and flowing from every crevice in the walls. Syndra spun around, scanning every brick and every darkened corner.

"What have I come to find? The old enemy of legend?"

"..."

"Or a brat with more power than she knows how to use?"

"Come out and fight me, scum!" Syndra screamed, her own voice booming like a thousand of her had said it in harmony.

Zed materialized on the opposite side of the room as Syndra, and the echoes vanished into silence.

Syndra flung her dark orb at the figure immediately, and Zed dashed towards her in turn. He expertly ducked underneath the projectile and closed the gap beneath the two, unsheathing the blades on his arm and preparing to end this fight quickly. Syndra's arm shot out and Zed reflexively leaped to the right, in time to dodge a massive shock wave that blasted the mortar out of the wall behind him. Syndra was pushed back by the force of the wave, and she winced as her arm took the brunt of the recoil.

Annoyed, Syndra reached out with her other hand and grabbed Zed using her powers. She threw him back and pinned him to the wall, and she heard him grunt in surprise. She aimed an orb at his skull to end this pathetic fight quickly, but was shocked when she saw him standing in a different section of the room, completely free of her influence, brushing off the dust from the impact in a taunting manner. She looked at the end of her tether and sure enough she saw the ninja again, but steeped in a deep shadow.

She didn't have time to try and figure out what just happened as she saw a shuriken fly through the air towards her, and she had to hastily grab that out of the air instead, breaking the tether. She could feel her anger rising as she glared at the ninja, summoning another orb out of the aether and shooting them both towards where he stood. Zed dodged them with ease, and as they suddenly changed direction like a boomerang to shoot at his back he sidestepped them both without even a glance. Syndra growled in frustration as the orbs returned to circle slowly around her head.

"You'd make a good carnival game. Ever try the circus?" Zed quipped dryly.

Syndra mockingly sneered at the joke, but felt the corners of her lips turn up just a little. Jokes were… foreign things to her. Unfamiliar. And unexpected from an assassin after her head.

Zed studied her reaction. He had expected her to get angry at his taunt, but he caught a little humor in her eyes. Interesting. Uncontrollable people could never take insulting humor, he had discovered through the years. It was a litmus test he often used to judge opponents. There might be more to this Syndra than meets the eyes.

Syndra saw the ninja ready his blade once more, and any slight levity evaporated. She would see this intruder die for his impudence. Willing a third orb out of the air, Syndra threw them all at the man. Zed dodged the haphazardly thrown orbs with ease, dashing to close the gap again. But this time, he sent a shadow to flank behind her. Time to see what this sorceress could do.

Zed leaped at Syndra, and when he saw her arm extend out he swapped places with his shadow. A shockwave blasted apart the space he had been, but by that point Zed was already aiming a strike at the sorceress' spine. Syndra whipped around quickly and sent another powerful shockwave out from her arm, and Zed leaped high into the air and over her head to avoid the deadly wave.

Her reaction time was impeccable, but the reactions themselves were predictable. He could have unsheathed a shuriken right then and ended it, throwing it from above into the soft flesh of her neck, but decided against it. As the sorceress turned once more to face him, he could see that her arm was hurting by the way she carried it. She wasn't controlling how much power she shot out, only where it went.

Syndra was getting very angry. She was angry at the intruder and his impudence and his slippery fighting style, but she mostly was just angry with herself. He was making her look like a fool, dodging her attacks as if they were meaningless, even though she knew even a grazing blow meant certain death for the ninja. But the anger subsided a little and was replaced with something else. Something a little more... reasonable. Syndra was just throwing out attacks at him, and he obviously could dodge them all day. If she didn't change her strategy, or lack thereof, she could be here for hours and not make any progress. So she thought.

Zed could see a change in the mage. A bit of the anger faded from her face and it was replaced by focus. She stood just a little bit straighter, her eyes scanned his form and then quickly glanced at the area around her. Zed knew this reaction well, having seen it many times before, from when his students realized the fruitlessness of their current strategy and started adapting. A natural reaction, but she had reigned herself in quickly enough.

Syndra extended a hand and sent one orb flying at Zed, around head level. Zed ran towards it and ducked underneath, and began to reach for a shuriken to counter if she tried to grab him again. But he suddenly stopped and leaped backwards, sailing through the air just in time to dodge the deadly orb that came crashing down from above.

She'd sent another ball above his field of view while his head was bent down to duck, and it had almost gotten him killed. Their darkness made them hard to focus on, and the way she spun them around her head masked their numbers. He'd just noticed only one orb floating around her a split second before he had to dodge. That stunt would have taken most of his students, he knew that much. Using an enemy's previously established patterns to plan around where their vision will be was good. Using a helmeted opponent's field of vision was a basic tactic, but a tactic nonetheless.

Syndra was frustrated that her plan didn't work, but took pride in the fact that she'd almost gotten him. It was definitely the closest by far, and for a second there she believed he was gone for good. But this was only the beginning. She would have been surprised if her first real strike had ended the fight, after all.

Zed saw her shoot a pair of orbs around head level, and stood still to prepare to dodge these ones. They began to orbit each other rapidly, effectively forming a deadly disk growing in size as it approached him and the orbs sped up even further. He was making sure to keep a mental eye on her, making sure she couldn't summon another orb while he was distracted. The third orb around her slunk low and started to move towards his legs, and he figured out her plan. The two spinning orbs were too wide to sidestep now, he was going to have to duck underneath. She planned on pinning him in place so he wouldn't be fast enough to dodge the third after the other two sailed over him.

She was wrong. Zed conjured a shadow to start flanking around her for a lethal approach, and then leaned back and let the orbs sail harmlessly over his body. He was about to come shoot back up to jump over the third, when he realized the orbs were still above him. They were rapidly spiraling inwards to form a wheel of death, waiting to shred him apart if he rose from his limbo. Genuine panic flooded him for an instant as he couldn't see where the third orb was in its path, and he immediately blinked to the shadow he had sent out to make sure he didn't meet his demise right there. It was still far away from her when he switched with it - he was hoping to wait until it got much closer so he could use it to launch an attack.

As the three orbs sailed back to their owner, he regarded her. She'd gone from aimlessly chucking balls at him to smartly using her projectiles to zone him out of areas and control where he could go, all while in the middle of an unexpected fight for her life, when usually one's emotions overtook their senses. She was just improvising, yet she had just put him on the back foot. As he looked at her, he realized the expression on her face had changed completely. Before she was just angry, throwing things at him like some little girl. But all he saw now was cool determination and focus.

What he saw was potential.

Zed stood straight and crossed his arms, letting the blades frame his head. Out of his body stepped three shadows of himself, two moving slowly to the left and one to the right. Syndra's eyes widened as they flicked from clone to clone, and Zed could practically see the gears turning in her mind. The shadows stopped when they surrounded Syndra, one covering each cardinal direction of attack. Syndra drew her three orbs close to her and began to spin them around her torso protectively, staring now at the real Zed. No doubt waiting for me to turn to shadow, Zed thought. The four Zeds prepared to pounce, and Syndra drew herself even higher into the air to get more distance between them and her, and to make them attack upwards at her instead of from purely opposing directions. Zed waited for a moment, waited for her eyes to stop wandering and fix on one shadow just a little longer than the others before returning to him.

The four Zeds sprinted at Syndra at a blistering pace, and Syndra held out her arm like a cannon towards the real Zed running towards her. As they jumped into the air to end her, Syndra waited until Zed would blink to one of the shadows to unleash a powerful shockwave straight into his body, eyes frantically flitting between the shadows.

But Zed had no intention of switching. She had been so focused on reacting after he made his move, that to make no move at all would mean she would die before acting at all. It was only when his blade was already shooting for her head that she realized what his ploy was, and she could only jerk her body down diagonally to the side to try and dodge the blow.

Zed's body briefly collided with hers midair, and after he landed he spun back around to face Syndra. The three shadows dissipated, destroyed by the orbs that had been waiting for Zed, and Zed took stock of what had happened. Her reaction had been late, he had felt his blade cut into her flesh. But that was to be expected. Battle sense comes with experience, not birthright. It was admirable that she was still alive at all. Mages usually never survived a single encounter with his blade.

Syndra spun around to face the ninja. A gash gushed hot blood on her left cheek, and she was livid. Rage enveloped Syndra like an inferno.

Zed watched another two orbs pop into existence. Great. More to-

Six more orbs appeared. A dozen more. Five dozen more. Twice that. Ten times that.

Zed stared, awestruck. The other side of the giant room couldn't even be seen through the cloud of stygian death she had summoned. This was the power of one whom armies had been sent to subdue, whose name gave pause to every leader of every faction, whose reputation heeded no introduction even to the children. The old evil told in the stories, the enemy once swallowed by the land itself once the people's will had buckled. He had been fighting a hundredth of her.

Syndra screamed, eyes overtaken with a purple radiance, arcs of pure power crackling all over her form. Surrounded by a forest of whirling death, she felt like a god. She would obliterate this interloper.

Zed quickly shot out five shadows before the downpour began. He sprinted around the room, dodging and juking the stream of utter destruction being sent at him, blinking to different shadows just before he was overwhelmed. Syndra was quick to follow him whenever he teleported, only giving him a second of reprise before continuing to pour death upon him. As Zed ran he could feel the walls around him being smashed beneath the waves. Zed knew he couldn't do this forever, he was running out of energy for his shadow technique and eventually she would send enough orbs his way to where he couldn't dodge no matter what he did.

Zed blinked to the last shadow he would be able to send out for a while. He was spent. Syndra once again turned to unleash the torrent just in time to see Zed sprinting towards her. Letting out a shout, she shot every orb she had at him in a finishing maneuver. Zed quickly signed out shadow runes on the floor, and fell forward into the shadows of the room itself. Here he could move without restriction, and he saw the confusion on Syndra's face as he disappeared into the solid stone.

It was his only chance. His entire being burnt with the effort of maintaining this form of non-existence, every fiber of his being wishing to erupt from this unnatural state. He was about to emerge from the shadows, gasping and spent, when he noticed the orbs began to disappear. Actually, on second observation, there seemed to already be a whole lot less than she had originally summoned. Zed realized they must have been rapidly dematerializing throughout the onslaught. She was only using three before after all, so this many at once must be unimaginably unstable.

Seeing as her powers seemingly stem from her emotional state, having come in such a storm after being injured, overusing it might also wreak havoc on her mind. But, Zed thought as he gazed around the decimated room, it was terrifyingly effective.

There weren't any walls anymore. The fortress had been ripped through almost completely by the barrage, yet her power had kept the upper half from collapsing. It looked like the building had been sliced in half by a sword, with the top half seemingly unaware of its bisection.

After the last of her orbs had faded from existence, Zed slinked out from the shadows in front of Syndra. Her crown had fallen off in the commotion, and only her long white hair adorned her head. She glared at him defeatedly, and he was surprised to see tears in her eyes as she wiped away some of the blood staining her cheek.

"I can't do it anymore," she whined like a child. The unnatural echoes of her voice were gone now. "I can't beat you, okay? You win." A tear fell down her face into the open gash he had given her, the salt stinging in the wound.

Zed considered the sorceress. Her attitude had completely changed. He guessed again it had something to do with the sheer amount of pure power she had just unleashed. If emotions like hate and defiance fueled her power, perhaps overtapping it leaves her in some kind of opposite state. She was obviously delusional.

Syndra had literally thrown all of her aggression at him, and now she was completely deflated.

Interesting. She probably didn't know just how close to death he really was this entire time. The raw power emanating from her was unlike anything he had ever seen, anything he had ever heard of. And her resourcefulness during the fight was commendable enough, up until the end where her emotions got the better of her and she returned to lobbing orbs with reckless abandon. If she had been able to use just half- hell, a tenth of that power while retaining her control like she had done before...

"The stories do not lie, Syndra. Your potential is truly limitless."

Syndra looked up at the ninja. She had only expected a request for last words, if anything. Zed retracted his arm blades, but she knew he could have them back out in an instant if she tried anything.

"The power you wield is truly immense. I haven't had to fight that desperately for a very long time. None but my best students can even hope to lay a hand on me, yet I was nearly swept away by your power."

"Students?" Syndra chuckled gravely, wiping the tear about to fall from her eye. "…I've never seen a technique like yours."

Zed hummed in acknowledgement, and Syndra clutched her head. Her head was thrumming after the battle, and she felt somewhat thin. She didn't even know what that meant, but it sounded about right. Thin. Syndra closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain. She was beginning to re-center herself. That strange feeling that had suddenly overcame her after the fight was finally beginning to recede, if just a little.

"So are you going to kill me or not?"

Zed was silent for a moment, and Syndra opened her eyes to stare into the black shadows of his mask as she waited for a response.

"I came here to ensure you would not be a threat to Ionia."

"I am definitely a threat to Ionia," she hissed. Zed tensed up - she was returning to her senses.

"Obviously."

"So what are you waiting for then, coward?" she said insultingly. "You had no trouble aiming for my life moments ago, but now you dawdle!"

Zed prepared to strike if the need arose. He could see her vitality returning, and it wouldn't be long before she would be able to retaliate again. He was running out of time to negotiate. Syndra began to get lighter where she sat, her power beginning to return and attempt to drag her into the air once again.

"Maybe I should show you some more tricks," she said lethally. She finally lifted off the ground again, and her body unfurled from her sitting position back to her usual stance.

"Are you sure that's necessary?" Zed asked calmly, holding his open palms at his sides in a gesture of non-aggression.

"What kind of assassin leaves a job unfinished?" Syndra spat, yet she rose no higher into the air.

"I'm here on my own accord, under no orders but my own."

"Hmm," Syndra said slowly, her ethereal voice stretching the sound out longer than usual. "And why are you here, if not to kill me?"

"As I said, I'm here to ensure you aren't a threat to Ionia."

"Well you've found one," Syndra said haughtily, orbs materializing at her sides once again.

"I'm not so sure," Zed said calmly. "You're not as unreasonable as the stories-"

"The stories!" Syndra spat at him. "I'm sure they tell stories of me, those fucking peasants! They always loved their fucking stories!"

Zed took a step back. This wasn't going as smoothly as he had hoped. "The stories say you're a madwoman, drunk with power, but that's not what I'm seeing."

"What would YOU know?"

Zed stood tall, hands and his side, a long pause stretching between them.

"Assume nothing, question everything. A creed I intend to hold to. It's been centuries since you were locked away; so far those old stories aren't ringing true, and I want to know why."

"Why should I care?" Syndra laughed. "I don't know what tales they've spun of me over the years, but it's always been the same. Surrounded by cowards at every corner, doing anything they can to keep me shackled. Time and time again, even Ionia itself was too afraid to let me be free. And the moment I breathe air again, in centuries, assassins at my throat. That's the only story I have to tell."

"Sounds like an enemy of balance, not our people."

Syndra paused for a moment. "What's the difference," she muttered. "You're all the same. Obsessed with the land, with the spirits, so incestuously connected to the dirt you can't even stand for yourselves. I've watched from on high as Noxians cut you people down like wheat in fields, somehow thinking yourselves better for being conquered without resistance. I'm the opposite of you peasants. I won't allow myself to be cowed in the name of your balance."

Zed held a hand to his chest. "We have no such weaknesses."

Syndra didn't respond, only stared at the ninja cloaked in shadow. "I know your kind, Kinkou. You're agents of-"

"I am NO Kinkou slave," Zed said lethally. "When the Noxians came on their ships, we were told not to fight back. That warfare went against our way of life, that blood for blood was a fool's errand. We were told that as our people were slaughtered and our homes burnt to ashes, our sons and daughters sold into slavery on distant shores."

Zed spread his arms wide. "If balance brought us to this, then of what use is balance?"

Syndra stared at him. To hear those words come from the mouth of an Ionian was sacreligious. It was wrong, unnatural. Foreign. Like her.

"Who are you?" Syndra asked, tone softening just a little.

"My name is Zed. I lead the Order of Shadows, one of the strongest powers in Ionia, dedicated to fighting for its people."

"And what would you want of me, Zed, if not my head?" Syndra questioned.

"…I would want you to ally with us," said Zed, words leaving his mouth before he even fully understood their implications. "Help us resist these barbaric invaders and the dottering fools in charge of our nation."

Syndra was surprised at his words. Ionians were more than nationalistic, it went far beyond what patriotism the most ravenous Noxian or the most diligent Demacian could ever hope to muster. Ionians were connected to the very earth and sky, magic from the land flowed through their veins as much as blood. There had never been a real Ionian state because there was no need for anything but the 'spirit' of Ionia, both literal and metaphorical, to bind them closer than any other nation could. Unity, balance, peace, all were unanimous and ubiquitous.

Yet this man, wreathed in shadows and magic Syndra had never felt the presence of before, this man dared to speak of revolt against the natural order. It was blasphemy, it was heretical, it had no place in Ionia.

"Tell me more," Syndra asked, floating forward through the air towards the ninja.

"Is this your acceptance?" Zed questioned slowly.

"To help your little group? No, nothing like that. But I want to see it, and if I like it I might consider your offer."

"...That is unacceptable."

"Excuse me?" Syndra scoffed at his rejection.

"There can be no outsider let into the inner sanctums of the order. You accept my offer in full, or our negotiations end here."

"Negotiations?" Syndra growled, drawing back from the shadowy figure. Was that what this was? Another weakling attempting to get out of a bad situation with cool words and a silver tongue? Now that she thought about it, he was probably planning on making her drop her guard completely, so she wouldn't be able to react when he went for the kill.

That was it, Syndra fumed, this whole thing was just a charade. Just a cheap tactic. Another ploy to deceive her, to distract her, to take advantage of her. She always fell right into the palm of whomever's hand beckoned for her, told her what she wanted to hear. It was never real.

Syndra began to float higher, and her body swelled with the anger that let unchecked power flow from her fingertips. "I decide what I will do, not you. Do not presume me helpless or desperate. You may have got me for a moment, but all of you pathetic Ionians are the same. Shameless manipulation and tampering, hoping to divert your problems somewhere else rather than facing them head on."

"I know you fear me," she continued, "And I know you'd hoped to use your little 'offer' to try and make me drop my guard. I know what Ionians think of me, I had a great view of their hands wrapped around my throat. I know that the hatred in those eyes was only just able to cover the fear, fear at the prospect of me being free, fear of what I would do if I was allowed to choose, fear of not undoing the great mistake that is my existence. So come, Ionian, and see if you can finish the job you started!"

"You're wrong-"

"Shut up!" she spat, arms raising to ready herself for battle once again.

Syndra blinked and felt the burn of cold steel pressing into her spine from behind. She jolted forward and away from the stinging pain instinctively, but a gauntleted hand wrenched her down by her shoulder, her back arching as the grounded man pulled her down. Syndra tried to get away, but her struggling only earned the tips of the long blades pressing harder into her back, and after a moment she stood still. Syndra was too stunned to speak, only gasps escaped her as her hands grasped dumbly behind her back. Syndra could just barely hear the ninja's steady breath a couple inches from her ear.

"I do not fear you."

Syndra's lips were parted in a silent gasp, and she tried to muster the will to make her arms obey her, to whip around and try and blast him away, to not let him be in control. But as Syndra stood with her life on a knife's edge, she didn't feel the hatred, anger or contempt that usually fueled her. Syndra felt something different, something new. She'd only ever known fear. Fear for her power. Fear for her potential. Fear for the possibility that she chose her own path.

But this? The harsh grip on her shoulder and the wicked blade ready to skewer her in a heartbeat? The sting of the welt still fresh on her cheek, the blood trickling down her chin and dripping onto the stone floor?

It was no coward's blade at her back, a coward would have skewered her the instant he had the chance. Cowards needed no more words than necessary to slip a knife between her ribs. There was no explanation other than that he was waiting to hear what she had to say.

This was respect.

Syndra's hand moved to the hand on her shoulder, lightly tapping on the gauntlet that held her in place. The grip lessened then broke, and Syndra slowly turned herself around to face the ninja, putting a little distance between them. She descended gently until she set herself down onto the floor, and after taking a moment to brush some of the dirt and rubble off of her skirt she looked up at the ninja's steel visage.

Maybe it was foolishness, but this person seemed different from the others who had only ever wanted to use or dispose of her. He had proven himself to be worthy of her respect in combat at least, and seeing she hadn't been skewered from behind it must be true that he didn't come only to kill her. But above all that, Syndra just felt strangely… okay with hearing him out.

Ironically it felt like she'd finally found the one person in this world whose sole purpose wasn't to stab her in the back.

"I'll go," she said gently.

"Quite the turnaround," Zed commented.

Syndra hummed amusedly. The ninja stared, and she heard the blades on his arms retract to their sheathes with the soft slither of steel against steel.

"So you accept my offer. In full."

"Yes. I'll be an ally to your order of darkness, and we'll see if you're really worthy of my assistance."

"Shadows. And you accept that there can be no retraction of this consent."

"Yeah, yeah…" Syndra huffed. She could blast her way out of wherever they brought her anyway .

"Then we have an accord."

Zed's gauntleted hand offered a handshake to Syndra and she took it, giving it one firm shake. The leather on his gauntlets was surprisingly soft and well worn, supple and pleasing to the touch, and Syndra held the handshake for a moment longer than she would have if it wasn't such a surprise.

"So what now?" she asked, cheerily looking around at the scenery of destruction she had wrought.

"We return to the Order, and discuss our future."

"Oho," Syndra smiled. "Our future? Tell me more," her voice echoed as she leaned towards him playfully in the air.

"Patience," chided Zed, looking at the strange sorceress from behind his steel mask.

"Of course," Syndra chuckled. "So which direction to reach your order?" She flew to what used to be a wall facing the mainland, gazing at the continent she hadn't touched in centuries.

In response, Zed turned his back to her curtly and began signing out red runes into the thin air. Before him emerged a pitch black opening in the world itself, shifting and shimmering as if it shone with darkness instead of light. Syndra's gut dropped as the shadows in the center of the portal seemed to undulate, writhing as if it were a million maws trying to swallow whatever came close.

"After you," Zed motioned, holding his hand out to present the portal in front of him.

"Yes..." Syndra said shakily. The portal seemed wholly wrong, like it doesn't belong there. Syndra wanted to get away from it, she couldn't stand to stare directly at it for too long, but she knew she would not back down in the face of such childish fears.

Syndra slipped forward through the air, but she couldn't seem to float straight if her life depended on it. She wanted to go directly towards the portal, but she felt repulsed in her actions. She tried to move forwards, only for her body to veer leftwards and away from the entrance. After the first time that happened, she was determined it would be the last. Syndra drew back and surged forward, pushing herself through the repulsion even as it got nearly unbearable when she reached the entrance. It was like trying to bring two like magnets together, Syndra's body just simply did not want to go near the shadows.

"C-Can I get some help? This infernal gate won't let me near," she said, struggling to get closer. Zed came up behind her and gave her body a good push from behind. It was a little difficult at first, but soon she slid past the threshold easily. In fact, at the end it felt like she was actually getting sucked into the portal. He heard some cry of surprise come from her for a fraction of a second before she was sucked through. Giving the site of destruction around him one last look, he followed her through.

Zed stepped out into the unkept wilderness. He had chosen a spot about halfway-

Syndra was screaming, writhing on the ground in pain, clawing at her face and eyes. Her heels dug trenches in the dirt beneath her, head slamming into the ground in spasms. Zed rushed to her side, gripping her body, trying to see where she was injured but finding nothing. Realization began to dawn on him.

"Damn it," he thought angrily, "I should have expected this."

There were many reasons the shadow techniques were forbidden, one of them being the shadows themselves hunger. They slip into cracks in your soul, entering your mind, tempting and testing its user. And it was always worse for mages.

Mages are… open, in a way. The mana of the world flows through them like water through sand, diffusing through metaphysical pores in their existence. Magical aptitude was measured in how much of that mana flow you could tap into, and also how "porous" you were. The easier it was for the mana to flow through you, the more you could use without becoming depleted.

As he knelt beside her, he could feel the shadows perforating her being. He was no expert on the magical arts, having little aptitude himself, but from what he could feel the shadows doing within her she must have truly terrifying potential. Her entire being was infested with shadows, they were writhing like maggots within her. Once a magically-inclined student had a hungering shadow take root in them, slipping through the cracks in their being, and it had been like drawing an arrow from a wound with how they had screamed.

Syndra was hysterical on the ground, seizing and screaming from the crowd of shadows infesting her being. Zed acted quickly, surrounding her with a circle of red sigils. He placed his hands on her stomach and her forehead, feeling the shadows beneath recoil at his touch. He focused, beckoning the shadows to enter him instead, but they were reluctant to give up on their feast.

He tuned out the world around him, no longer hearing the screaming, no longer seeing the trees around him. His being was swallowed by the familiar darkness, and the sigils splayed on the ground around them.

Then he bade the shadows stop, and they listened. The wriggling masses froze in an instant. Slowly they marched into the circle of darkness surrounding Syndra on the ground, trailing from every part of her being in blackened whisps, returning to the infinite void from where they had come. They had come out much easier than the last time he had done this, he noted. Seconds, instead of hours.

Zed opened his eyes and saw Syndra on the ground in front of him. She was silent now, streaks of tears falling from each closed eye.

"She might be out for a while," he thought ruefully. He looked at their surroundings. He had picked a remote place to travel to, about halfway between the ruined fortress and the home of the Order of Shadows, since teleporting like this became exponentially harder the further he traveled at once.

He heard her breathing loudly behind him, and turned to see her… glowing.

Syndra had taken in a deep breath, eyes still closed, filling her lungs completely. Slowly she had begun exhaling, hissing strangely as she did so. Her eyes opened and began to glow purple, as did her open mouth. Soon her entire being shone as she exhaled harder and harder, much more air than she would ever be able to breathe in leaving her. The sound reached a fever pitch, hurting his ears as the hissing grew to become unbearably loud. Zed watched as the wound on her face stitched itself together in a moment, watched as she lifted horizontally off the ground, surrounded by a dark purple hue.

"Whew!" Syndra exclaimed, suddenly tipping forward into a standing position in the air, waving her hands in tiny circles to regain her balance. "What the hell was that?" she asked, turning to face him. She cracked her neck with a hand before rolling her shoulders around in their sockets.

"…You ok?" Zed asked incredulously. She had been in seemingly unimaginable torment moments ago, yet seemed wholly unfazed.

"Mhm," she nodded, far too cheerily. "I actually feel great."

"Zed stared at her in confused silence.

"Ah," she began, unsure how to put what just happened into words. "Well when I went through that portal it felt disgusting, and hurt a lot. It felt like I was full of… something. Something that moved."

"Malignant hungering shadows," Zed specified. "They have a mind of their own."

"Sure," she accepted. "But when they left me, I felt more empty than I have in a long time. It felt like I was completely drained, like I had used every drop of power it was possible to use. But I never stay drained for long," Syndra said proudly. "Soon after it felt… how can I even describe it? Mm.. it felt like the world itself rushed inside me, all at once. It feels like my entire being was born again."

Zed pictured her glowing, hissing form in his mind. What she was saying sounded a lot like how his old teachers had explained magic to him, the land of Ionia itself flowing through them. Though most were lucky to get a trickle, a crack seeping mana into their core. To recover from something like that might have taken a normal mage weeks, months maybe. Syndra must have a flood, a typhoon within her. Zed was beginning to see why her mentors once considered her a monster.

Syndra cleared her throat. The euphoria of the renewal was passing, and she started to return to her senses. "So, are we here?" she asked, gazing around at the untamed forest around them.

"Halfway," Zed said, shaking his head.

"Tsk, we have to do that again?" she said disappointedly.

"Yes. But we can take precautions." Four copies of Zed walked out from within him, flanking him on either side. "You… hm. As a mage, it could be said that you don't have 'walls' like we do to keep the shadows out. But we can use disciplined shadows as their own wall."

The shadows walked over to her, surrounding her. Syndra looked between them as they locked in a circle around her, arms wrapping around shoulders to form a tight circle. Zed was signing the red sigils that formed the portal while they assembled, and soon that inky black portal took shape once again.

"Walk on the ground this time and try to go through again. I'll be ready to help you when you go through, if it doesn't work."

"Fine," Syndra said, feigned confidence in her voice. She shuffled towards the portal alongside the host of Zed's shadows, getting closer and closer. This time she didn't feel that repulsion that she had felt before, giving her the true confidence to stride through the portal.

Zed followed soon after, arriving in an empty room in their underground base. He had chosen somewhere private, in case he had to repeat the ritual on her. But there she was floating idly in front of him, gazing around at the stone walls and magic-based artificial lights.

"We're pretty deep underground, huh?" Syndra asked him, turning to look at him curiously. "I guess that makes sense with your skillset."

"It's for security," Zed replied. "No outsider has ever set foot inside."

"I haven't set foot inside either yet," Syndra's echoey voice said cheekily, pointing jokingly to her suspended feet.

Zed raised an eyebrow beneath his steel mask. The Dark Sovereign was…

He shook his head. He was the last person who should be letting Ionan propaganda poison his thoughts. Every child in Ionia was taught to fear the monster sleeping in the dreaming pool, just as they were taught that balance upheld all. Lies and manipulation, all of it. He would toss away the preconceived notions planted in him by the fools of this nation.

"Come with me," Zed said, unamused. Syndra pouted for a moment before following. They walked down a hallway until they reached a blank wall. Zed drew some red signs in the air, and the wall opened like a set of double doors, grinding open to let them pass.

They stepped into a more spacious room, a long desk filled with paperwork and miscellaneous objects dominating the center. Syndra gazed around curiously at display cases and locked chests.

"It's my office," Zed said flatly. "I have a back entrance in case I want to arrive unannounced."

"Ah," she said, understanding. Zed walked over to a trunk in the corner, unlocking it with a key he pulled from a pouch on his hip. He withdrew a dark bundle from it and walked back over to her.

"Put these on over your clothes," he said.

"And why should I?" Syndra questioned defensively.

Zed took a moment to look at her rather ostentatious outfit - a cleaved neckline, straps hugging exposed hips, a small skirt covering her lower half, long boots hugging her legs up to the thighs, a giant crown adorning her head.

"I plan on introducing you to the order later. We can't have the Dark Sovereign floating about the base unannounced."

"Whatever," she huffed, dropping to the ground from her usual seat in the air. "Make it soon."

Syndra took the clothes from him, sticking her arms into the sleeves of the black robes. She tied the belt at her waist and hopped into the air for a moment to magically slide off her long boots. She stepped into the baggy black pants midair before floating down onto the sandals waiting for her on the ground, wiggling her toes to seat her feet snugly. She raised a finger and her crown floated from her head, coming to rest on the middle of the desk behind her. She shook her head a little, running fingers through her hair to make sure it was all in order.

She hummed in amusement as she looked herself over. "Got a mirror?"

"No."

"Tsk." She hopped into the air once again and floated towards a display case with a glass front, looking at her faint reflection. She pivoted in the air, checking to make sure she looked good. "Alright," she said, disappointed the pants were too large on her. She floated back over, coming to rest on the ground in front of him. "Do I look like one of your members?"

Zed looked down at the sorceress. She would be less conspicuous with a hair tie, her long stark white hair marked her as someone not committed to the shadows. Though her glowing purple eyes stood out far more, he decided.

"Can you…" Zed said, pointing at his own eyes. He didn't exactly know how to ask someone to turn their eyes off.

"Ah," Syndra said quietly. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again they looked normal. Well, more normal. Her purple irises still shone with a strange light, but only faintly. It would do.

"Follow me," Zed said, turning to leave through the front of his office. Syndra followed shortly behind, gazing around the hallway. She could see a few people walking in the distance, wearing similar dark clothes to her. "I thought more of you guys would be wearing masks," she whispered behind him, her ethereal voice making her whisper sound otherworldly.

"It's impossible to get inside here without being brought by a member initiated in the shadow arts," replied the assassin. "So there's no point."

"Hm," Syndra replied curiously. "So are you going to take yours off?"

"No."

"Oh. Why?"

Zed looked at her over his shoulder for a moment before turning back forward. "I keep mine on."

"Are you ugly?"

Zed didn't reply.

—

Kayn was holding his scythe at the ready, preparing to lop through the wooden targets in front of him. They were old and battered training implements, and when they were finally run through entirely by the order of shadows he took it upon himself to give them their final reward for their service: a quick disassembly into kindling.

You use me on such trifles, the voice inside the scythe said mockingly. It's been too long since we've tasted blood.

"Hush," said Kayn under his breath. "I'm trying to focus."

Sure, it replied condescendingly. Sorry to distract you from your… worthy adversaries.

Kayn didn't respond, only readied himself. He darted forward, slicing through the wooden neck of the dummy closest to his left. He landed and spun, slicing Rhaast through the midriffs of three dummies in a row, before compressing like a spring on the backswing and leaping into the air. He brought the scythe down on the last remaining target, viciously bisecting the wood into splinters.

Bravo, applauded the scythe. Though if these were noxians, you'd never make it through the second one's belly.

"True," said Kayn thoughtfully. "I wish I had a weapon more worthy of my skills."

Why you-

The doors of the dojo swung open, and Kayn turned to see who had entered. It was master Zed, returning from his mission to subdue the Dark Sovereign's awakening. He dropped to a knee, laying Rhaast on the floor beside him.

"As you were," said Zed, waving a hand dismissively. "I knew you'd be in here."

Kayn rose to face his teacher. "How went the mission ma-"

He froze, staring at the unfamiliar woman standing at his side. Her long white hair fell around her shoulders, a feature that couldn't be more amiss in the order of shadows. And her eyes were a deep purple, almost luminescent in a strange way.

"Yeah," said Zed plainly.

Kayn looked between the two wide-eyed, heart pounding. He had been raised Ionian, even though he had long renounced their traditions ever since his treatment by the noxians. But his blood still chilled at the idea of the long-slumbering evil standing before him.

"May I ask why?" said Kayn, trying to keep his voice calm and level.

"Assume nothing. Question everything. Is that not what we preach?" said Zed, a little flair in his voice. "Let go of the old propaganda."

"Yes master," Kayn said quickly, leeching confidence from his teacher. He knew he could trust Zed in these matters.

"What have we here?" asked Rhaast, interest a rare tone for his voice.

"The thing speaks," said Zed bitingly.

"Is that scythe talking about me?" asked Syndra, confusion plain on her face.

As if in response, the great eye on the weapon flung open, earning a small jolt of surprise from the sorceress.

"I've got some more magically-inclined friends that would just love to take a look at you," the weapon said smoothly, looking Syndra up and down. "Pity they're all dead or insane."

Syndra looked between the two assassins, who seemed unamused by the whole talking-scythe deal, so she assumed it was a normal occurrence.

"I wanted you to be the first to know that Syndra will be allying herself with our order," said Zed, ignoring the blade's commentary. "And I'll be training her as well."

"That's… news," Kayn said shakily.

"Is there a problem?" asked Zed.

"…Master, please don't take this the wrong way," Kayn said apologetically, "but, well, one of the biggest battles our order faces is winning over the hearts of the people."

"And?" said Zed, lowly.

"While I'm sure our members would accept her in no time, I'm worried what it will do to our reputation to so easily invite the Dark Sovereign to be among us. Many are split between sides, and-"

"You're so worried about your reputation that you'd deny the help of one of the strongest beings to ever live?" said Syndra angrily, rising a few inches into the air unconsciously. Kayn raised his palms beside him.

"No- I mean," he trailed off. Kayn closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe and steel himself. His confidence had left him in the surprise of the moment, but it was never gone long.

"This invasion has already destroyed many lives, and our fracturing from Ionian tradition has already almost caused civil war on top of it."

"I don't care about your pathetic struggles," Syndra said darkly.

"We're already hated by many of our own countrymen, and I can't imagine a worse idea than recruiting the help of literal fucking evi-"

"Calm yourself," warned Zed. Kayn stopped mid sentence, and gave Zed a nod.

"If we're to stand by what we say we believe in," said Zed, "We can't turn away such a willing ally. Before you stands another victim of the very thing we fight against, willing to fight with us, strong enough to wipe away armies."

"I'm not one of your lackeys," warned Syndra. "I wipe away what I please."

Kayn relented a little. "You said you wanted to train her? To do what? She has no use for blades or shadows."

"She has no use for our techniques, but that is not all we train. She lacks discipline."

"Hey," Syndra started.

"You do," shot back Zed. "You may have unparalleled power at your fingertips, but you act like a novice in battle."

"No I do not!" replied Syndra angrily. She was floating a good foot off the floor now, pretenses forgotten.

"If you didn't have such overwhelming power, you'd be utterly useless on the battlefield."

"And if you didn't have that fat head," Syndra replied, dark orbs materializing around her, "you wouldn't be so fucking impudent."

"Stop," said Zed sternly.

"Excuse me? You think you can-"

Syndra stopped when she felt something cold pressing into the back of her neck. Her eyes darted to her left, where Kayn was holding the giant scythe with one wickedly ironclad hand. The sickle blade was behind her neck, ready to shear it through like autumn wheat.

Syndra lowered herself back to the ground, orbs dematerializing back into the aether. Kayn in turn pivoted his scythe back across his body, resting the head on the floor. She took a long, steady breath, resisting the urge to turn this dojo into a tinderbox full of mashed ninja.

Zed stared at her from behind his mask. "The simple fact is that if one of my acolytes had your level of power, they could end the Noxian invasion in an afternoon and conquer Noxus by the week's end."

Syndra looked at him darkly, but couldn't come up with a response.

"We take in people with nothing but their two hands and turn them into lethal weapons. I can't even imagine your potential, and I don't think for a second I can even train you to actually reach it."

Zed crossed his arms. "We are not mages. We are not spiritualists. I don't presume to be able to teach you a single thing about your powers. I can only train you, the person."

Syndra's eyes widened at that. Why, she didn't know, but his words were affecting her in a strange way.

"And you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart?" replied Syndra sneeringly, compensating. "I don't plan on becoming one of your acolytes, after all."

Zed stared for a moment. "I only ask," he said carefully, "That you not point your fury towards the people of Ionia."

"Ah, even when they inevitably show up at my doorstep, a thousand spears in tow?"

Zed and Kayn looked at each other for a moment.

"That may happen," said Zed. "And if it does, our order will know about it long beforehand. If it comes to battle, we will make it clear who we will support."

"But master-"

Zed held up a hand to quiet his top student. "If you agree not to harm the people of Ionia without due cause," he said slowly, "My order will come to your aid, should it come to it."

"Why would you do that?" Syndra asked, not expecting such a commitment.

"The fools with the power to do so may be able to muster armies to face you, an old boogeyman," he said, "But if it was clear they would be facing the Dark Sovereign alongside the order of shadows, even they wouldn't dare. Not with the invasion, at the very least."

"Humph. No offense, but I don't need your help to defend myself."

"Not from an army," said Zed pointedly. "But you aren't afraid of a mass of foot soldiers anyway. No mission would be sent to subdue you without a host of mages well-practiced in the old arts of Ionia. And, well," Zed said, a little humor in his voice, "You don't have a spotless track record against that."

"Uh huh," sneered Syndra, turning her nose up at him. She had to admit his offer was tempting, however. "And I can assume your order of assassins would do what they do best, in that situation."

"Child's play," said Kayn, spinning his scythe around his wrist deftly. "Mages make for soft targets."

"High value target elimination," said Zed cooly, "is the job description."

"Hah," Syndra sighed, picturing the scenario. Panicked, leaderless foot soldiers pose no threat to her, and an order of assassins is just the thing to counter a host of mages. Any fool who'd dare to challenge her would know the same as well.

"We'll see what happens," she smiled.

"So we have an accord?" asked Zed.

"I spare the Ionians unless they offend," Syndra tallied, "You offer your clan to help me if I'm betrayed by them, and I assume you'd assist me in some manner if I was besieged by Noxus as well. On top of that, you'll do what you can to help me reach further heights?" She shook her head. "I'm getting a suspiciously good deal."

"I'm saving my nation from making an enemy of you," Zed said calmly. "The fools would love an excuse to try and eliminate an ancient evil, to rally support from the masses. And I imagine Noxus can't wait to test you - opportunities to shed Noxian blood are always welcome."

"…Fine," she relented. Zed offered his hand once again, and Syndra gave it a shake. The leather on his gloves really was nice to the touch.

"Master," asked Kayn, "Do you plan on letting the rest of the order know?"

Zed nodded. "They deserve to know, if they're ever to be asked to face their own countrymen in her name."

Kayn nodded in agreement, glad they were of one mind on the matter. It might rattle them, but it was the best course of action.

"Come," said Zed. "Let's assemble the order. We have a new friend to introduce."

—

It had been a while since the order had been gathered like this, Camui thought. He had thrown himself into training after his bout with Kayn, trying to better himself from the master's advice. His edge alignment really had been off, badly. It was embarrassing to realize he had put on such a display in front of the master of shadows.

He pushed through the crowd that had gathered in the main hall. Vaulted ceilings stretched high into the dirt, always reminding him of how far they were underground whenever he stared too long. He wanted to get a closer look at the speakers, so he bustled his way through the dark-robed multitudes.

"As you all may know by now," began Zed, voice booming over the crowd. Shit, he's starting. All noise in the hall stopped, all idle chatter cut short in an instant. "The old fortress of Fae'lor has been destroyed."

"Huh?" he thought in confusion. He'd never heard of that place.

"The Dark Sovereign has awoken."

Camui stared open-mouthed at Zed. A hushed whisper ripped through the crowd, gasps and exclamations from those who had also not remembered the name for that old place. Names were forgotten, but old fears had a way of sticking around.

"Long has she been demonized by our forefathers. Long has she been understood as the enemy of the spirit of our nation. But I ask you this; are those not the same ideas we so fervently oppose?"

Confused silence fell upon the crowd. Camui didn't understand what Zed was getting at.

"The old stories were the ramblings of those too afraid to seek real power. Long have those lies taken root in our minds, blinding us to the truth. Syndra is not the enemy you believe her to be. She was the enemy of balance, of the old traditions, as are we!"

Fervent whispers overtook the crowd. Camui couldn't believe what he was hearing. It had been centuries since the Dark Sovereign was locked away in the old fortress. This was the literal boogeymen parents told their children to make them eat their vegetables, it was the idea of evil.

But if he could trust anyone in this world, it was the master of shadows. Camui steeled his heart, wondering if Zed was proposing an expedition to try and make contact with the ancient foe. It would be unpopular, but if he thought it had the chance of working out he supposed he could trust in his intuition.

"And as proof she isn't the old uncontrollable evil you've been told about, I present her to you now! Come, Syndra!"

Syndra stepped forward into center stage, taking stock of the crowd. Every single pair of eyes there was locked onto her, in abject disbelief. Every single one of them was sizing her up, every single one clutching weapons and tensing muscles beneath their black robes. Whispers amongst the ranks, eyes flitting around the room, shuffled steps betraying confusion and doubt. It looked like they were having some trouble believing Zed on this one, she thought.

Syndra giggled sharply, and turned to gaze mischievously at Zed over her shoulder. "That's the issue with you ninjas," she said condescendingly. "Always so subtle."

Syndra turned to face the crowd, then exploded.

"HEAR. ME. NOW!" Syndra erupted, rising into the air. Her voice spoke with the multitudes of thousands, booming through the underground chamber, shaking the very dust from the walls in a shower of gray. Her white hair floated into a halo around her head, purple lightning cracked over her body, eyes glowing fiercely once again.

The crowd was cowed, appropriately. Only the most vigilant of all warriors could stand unintimidated by her voice, that which commanded death and power untold to them.

"Your master and I have come to an agreement," Syndra boomed. "And so I call you peasants my allies. REJOICE!"

The walls shook once again, the volume jarring many from their stupor.

Somewhere upstairs a crown was flying through a hallway, tumbling this way and that, nearly skewering a tardy assassin on the way to its owner. Syndra's borrowed clothes began to rip and tatter, revealing her actual outfit beneath. Like a cannon shot her crown burst into the room, snapping like a magnet to her brow. Her long boots followed suit, snaking up her legs in a flash.

The crowd was frozen in fear. It was evil speaking to them. It was the evil you feared when you turned off the lights to sleep, what you were hiding from when you drew the covers over your eyes. It was what your kids were afraid of when they asked to sleep by your side, that fear forgotten with age.

Syndra looked over the stunned crowd, relishing the fear. Arrogant ninjas had played with her for too long. This was the appropriate reaction to her presence.

"Rejoice," she boomed once again, relatively quieter this time. Every person there still felt their lungs vibrate with every word. "That I have heard your cause and deemed it worthy of my aid. For too long have the weak and the pitiful ruled our nation, while the strong are cowed by tradition!"

Camui was slowly recovering from his shock. She was speaking like Zed would speak, he realized. Could it be true? He looked to his friends and fellow acolytes beside him, all sharing the same look in their eyes. Could it really be true? Could that old evil truly be someone like them, a comrade centuries removed?

"What stories would they tell of us," shouted Kayn, stepping forward to speak to the crowd. "If we were defeated? What evils would they spin for us, in the name of preserving their way of life? Lies!"

The crowd was silent, unsure. The air hung heavy with a thick tension. Looks darted between people, between friends made with sweat and blood and dedication to the cause.

Camui turned to his friend, and saw him smiling back open-mouthed in disbelief. The kind of smile that you shared with someone when you couldn't believe something was real, so you waited for someone else to react first. He knew it then.

Camui slapped his friend on the shoulder, tugging him closer and letting loose an exclamation of choice swear words and nervous laughter. His friend echoed him back, laughing in that way one can only do with company, and soon it spread like wildfire. The barrier had been broken, and raucous cheers erupted from the order of shadows. Just as the presence of the Dark Sovereign had reminded them of their childish fears, so too had the realization she was an ally unlocked a long forgotten joy. Black robed assassins cheered for the Dark Sovereign, the wronged ally, long hated but misunderstood as they were.

Syndra stared at the cheering crowd. She drew back a little in the air. It was an unfamiliar sight. She looked at the faces and eyes locked onto her, fully aware she was that old sealed evil, hooting and hollering in her name.

Zed stepped forward to face the crowd. Usually they quieted in an instant, but this time it took a few long seconds for the sound to subside in the chamber, for their cheers to finally stick to the stone walls.

"Now," he said, voice once again commanding those gathered. "We have work to do. You'd agree Syndra has a bit of a publicity issue, right?" Zed said, gesturing to the floating image of evil.

The crowd chuckled at the comment, a congregation of shared embarrassment.

"We'll do our new friend a favor and spread the word. Syndra is an enemy to Noxus, not Ionia nor her people. She is one of us, an Ionian and a patriot at heart."

Syndra narrowed her eyes at the ninja. He was pushing it.

"Spread the word: Syndra will not attack unless attacked. Tempt her wrath at your own peril, for she has the order of shadows by her side!"

A cheer came forth from the crowd. Zed turned to face Syndra, voice lowering to speaking volume. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

Syndra hummed in amusement. She pivoted forward in the air, leaning towards the crowd. She looked again at the order assembled in the grand hall, and felt somehow more powerful now than when her voice had shook the bricks from their mortar.

"It's a pleasure doing business," she said seductively, crossing her legs behind her. Her booming ethereal voice, intonation barely above a whisper, lingered unnaturally long in the chamber.

—

Syndra floated idly in Zed's office. He was rummaging through another one of his chests, this time unlocked by a key hidden in his desk. He withdrew a pendant, silver in color, and walked over to her.

"Here," he said calmly. "This will help with the shadow traveling."

Syndra leaned forward to inspect the necklace, squinting to get a better look. There was something strange about the center. It was black, but… more.

"An artifact, not too uncommon, but useful. It's almost like a parasite to shadows. Put it on," he offered.

Syndra lifted her crown with a thought, slipping on the necklace before lowering it back in place. She didn't feel any different.

"Look down," Zed suggested.

Syndra did so, and it took her a minute to realize that she was no longer casting a shadow.

"Wahaha…" she laughed in amusement, moving her arms and legs to try and find any change in the light. She floated over to one of the lights on the wall, amazed that even by putting her hand right up to it none of the light was blocked.

"How does this even work?" Syndra asked him, smiling in simple curiosity.

Zed shrugged in response. "Light is strange. Light creates all shadows, so you need to be familiar with it to master the techniques. And I'll tell you this much: if you think you understand light, you don't."

"Hm," she replied, a little dissatisfied with the vague explanation. "Well as long as it works, I suppose. Though I'd prefer it as a ring."

"That might be possible," said Zed. "Like I said, these aren't uncommon, and they come in many forms. I'll keep an eye out."

"Sure you will," she said smugly. "Well, this has been entertaining, but I think it's time for me to return to my fortress. I barely even got to see the place before you barged in - they built it after I was put to sleep, you know."

Zed shook his head, thinking of those crumbling, ancient looking stone walls. To be fair, nature had been particularly unkind to the fort in that area of Ionia, but to think the vital young woman in front of him was older than that old keep was still a strange fact to swallow.

Zed signed red sigils into the air in front of him, and once again that stygian portal took shape.

"I went all the way this time," Zed explained. "It's easier to do in this location than out in the open."

"Makes sense," Syndra commented. As she drew closer to the portal she felt none of that repulsion yet again, giving her the go-ahead to slip smoothly into the blackness. Zed followed soon after, striding into those familiar shadows.

They emerged in the room they had fought in many hours ago, night having fallen on the country. Syndra stretched languidly in the air, spinning idly around as she did so, the world around her whirling like a carousel.

"What do you plan on doing?" Zed asked.

"I'm not sure," she replied, yawning. "It's been a long time. A very long time. I think I'll keep the fortress, but I'll need to get rid of the corpses. Then comes sleep - real sleep, not that wretched limbo."

Zed had noticed the corpses on his way inside the castle. Noxians and Ionians lined the ramparts and hallways, a battle obviously having taken place over her location not yet a day ago.

"That will take a while," Zed said bluntly. It was a horror show out there. Many lives had been spent trying to capture her.

Syndra looked over at him, chucking a little, vacuous voice giving it a sinister edge. "Hold still for me, would you?"

Syndra grabbed Zed with her tether, feeling the ninja freeze up in her grip. Once it was obvious this wasn't an attack though, giving him a small wave of reassurance, she felt him relax a little. She pulled him behind her as she flew through the air, leaving through the giant gaps she had created with her earlier onslaught. They soared high into the sky, until the beaches below them could be seen for miles. Turning back to face the fortress once it took up only a portion of their vision, terrifyingly high to anyone not blessed with effortless flight, Syndra considered her new home.

Zed was barely keeping his cool. He wasn't exactly prepared to be strung high in the atmosphere when she asked him to hold still. It had taken them less than a minute to make Ionia look more like a map than a country.

"I think this'll do," Syndra said under her breath, eyes squinting in concentration. Zed watched as the large fortress slowly pivoted in the air, turning until it was completely upside-down. Bodies rained into the giant pit in the ground left behind by the fortress' uprooting. She shook it back and forth like a ragdoll, watching as the bodies caught in the interiors tumbled from doorways and entrances into the charnel pit. Once no more fell out, she seemed satisfied.

"Now, the blood," Syndra said cheerily. Zed stared as the upside-down fortress glided over the water, and watched in surreal disbelief as the dark sovereign dipped the fortress in the ocean like a child dipping a cookie in milk. Torrents of saltwater scoured the stone buildings, not only cleaning the reek of blood from the place but knocking loose many vines and plants that had taken root in the crumbling buildings. Piles of rubble rained from the remains, looking like fine dust from such distance, but actually being tons of bricks and material. She lifted it again from the water, placing it back in its place far above the pit and turning it right-side up once again.

Syndra clapped her hands together in the air like a craftsman would after finishing their work, as if she had used her hands at all. She glided the two of them down and back into their freshly wet battlefield, loose bricks and rubble now missing.

Zed felt his feet touch the ground again, his back to the sorceress behind him. He was still, silent.

Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe she really was an abomination. Maybe things like her weren't meant to exist in this world, couldn't exist in this world. Maybe he should kill her right now or die trying, to make up for his actions so far. He turned to face her, a strained expression hidden by his steel mask.

She was leaning towards him in the air, hands clasped behind her back, smiling face expectantly looking up at him. "Well?" her ethereal voice asked excitedly. "Impressed?"

Zed stared at her in silence for a moment, fingers twitching. "Very."

Syndra laughed, a girlish laugh, drawing back from him and doing long cartwheels in the air until she flew through the holes in the walls. He watched her glide through the air outside the fortress, spinning and twirling, giggling all the way. She rushed back up to him, grinning like a maniac.

"Immense power is fun! You should try it sometime," she said jokingly, floating to his side to jab an elbow into his rib.

Zed laughed. Absurdity had overwhelmed him. He laughed deeply, in a way he hadn't in years, covering his steel face with a leather bound hand. The laughter of a boy, uncontrollable, inappropriate.

Syndra laughed with him in her otherworldly voice, flying tight circles around the ninja like a hoop. Their laughter mixed together in the dark fortress, echoing out together over the sea.