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Whispers of Conflict
Topic Started: Nov 13 2016, 01:29 AM (184 Views)
CrazedPorcupine
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Keeper of the Veritama
As the celebrations for Bandle City and Bilgewater swamp those factions, Synar Celimdha was sitting in the Institute Libraries focusing on the rumors he had heard. Ionia and Demacia would be butting heads about dealing with the upcoming Harrowing.

Synar stood. He had been practicing for months, slowly creating a few new glyphs to add to his vast repertoire for his magic. He let his vision grow hazy as it did when he began to tug on the very strings of magic itself. A sword made of fine demacian steel lay before him. It had cost him a sizable amount of money, but it was time for him to test out his theory. He knew that using his magic, he'd be able to rewrite objects, but only if he knew their veritama in their entirety. Synar began to draw, letting his knowledge guide him, quickly shapes and patterns began to swirl around in the air locked in place. The system was simple. Only a few glyphs, but then Synar let the glyphs drift towards the object. The pattern recognized the object it represented, and the color of the glyphs gleaming in the air shifted color from a subtle blue color to a gleaming gold.

The first step had worked. Synar then reached forward, and added a single glyph towards the end of the set, representing the swords ability to damage the spirits of the undead. He added a glyph representing Fire. In theory, it meant the sword would kill heat as well as spirits, and thus could extinguish flames with a single swipe. He pulled his hand out and the glyph of Fire shuddered before turning gold. The sword slowly shifted color from it's pure silver to a pale blue color where frost began to gather on the sides of the blade. The air around the sword began to turn foggy as the sword sucked the heat from the air around it, killing heat and warmth like it was always meant to do that.

Synar reached forward and lifted the sword. He created a small fire in the air using a few more glyphs, and swung the sword through it. Instantly the flames were sucked into the blade and the sword let out a burst of steam as the water that had condensed on the blade vaporized from the sudden heat. The fire was gone, and nothing remained to show that it had ever been there. Synar let his vision drift back to where it needed to rewrite his glyphs. He removed the glyph of fire, and watched as the sword slowly thawed and returned to its original state.

To be able to rewrite weapons, or even to create his own, Synar knew that it would be an invaluable skill to protect the world from the Harrowing and the Shadow Isles. Demacia wanted to attack the Shadow isles from what Synar had heard, but Ionia wanted to simply reinforce the the defenses people already had so that balance could be maintained.

Synar lifted the sword. He never had been any good with a sword, but he could feel a strange connection to the blade. He had altered it on a fundamental level. A level that few would ever understand. He wondered how much it would take to alter a human, a city, a nation, the world. Synar stopped. He was beginning to get ahead of himself. Arrogance was never appropriate. He let go of the sword, and left the library. He would give the sword to his Nephew. He would appreciate such a fine weapon.
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