Post by The Dark Sovereign on Sept 27, 2013 21:24:28 GMT -5
Ionia
The rain finally relented as evening drew near. Clouds dispersed, finally relieving themselves of their watery burden, and let the sun pierce through weakly. The air was clean and still and Ionia looked marvelous, every inch of the land radiant. High above, dominating the Ionian skyline, the Celestial Fortress was bathed in sunlight, tiles shining from the rain. Its owner did not care to behold such a sight, however.
Syndra drifted into the courtyard of her abode, the only place where there was no ceiling to hide the sun and sky. She seemed rigid, her back straight and stiff as she levitated herself into the center of the courtyard. The storm had allowed her no time to meditate in the courtyard, as was her daily ritual, and the noise of the rain had kept the Sovereign sleepless. She was distinctly aware that she looked tired, but she allowed herself a chuckle. There was no one to impress here in her stronghold. Three spheres orbited her as usual; she touched one of them absentmindedly, as if to remind herself of her power.
She made her way to the center, under the cover of the only tree in the yard: a sweeping willow. With a quick motion, Syndra sat gracefully, a dark sphere immediately materializing beneath her, providing a seat for her. She took out a comb and ran it through her silver hair, methodically straightening it. The Sovereign's gaze wandered and she let her feet push off from the ground, lifting herself into the air and upwards. Finished with the comb, she let it drop to the ground and continued her ascent into the air, rising out of the courtyard.
Eventually, she stopped her ascent, throwing her hands out briefly to steady herself. The wind was strong where she was, high above Ionia. Her eyes surveyed the land below her, and her body stiffened again as she gazed at the city-state in the distance. There, the Placidium rested, one of the most iconic structures of Ionia. Syndra looked away, a solitary figure in the sky, and allowed herself to drift back down towards the courtyard.
Suddenly, she stilled her descent, her instincts alerting her of an oddity. She tilted her head, listening carefully, before looking around. Unlikely...birds rarely go this high up, and even the ones they do usually steer clear of her fortress. It must’ve been the wind—but she swore she heard a steady flapping.
The rain finally relented as evening drew near. Clouds dispersed, finally relieving themselves of their watery burden, and let the sun pierce through weakly. The air was clean and still and Ionia looked marvelous, every inch of the land radiant. High above, dominating the Ionian skyline, the Celestial Fortress was bathed in sunlight, tiles shining from the rain. Its owner did not care to behold such a sight, however.
Syndra drifted into the courtyard of her abode, the only place where there was no ceiling to hide the sun and sky. She seemed rigid, her back straight and stiff as she levitated herself into the center of the courtyard. The storm had allowed her no time to meditate in the courtyard, as was her daily ritual, and the noise of the rain had kept the Sovereign sleepless. She was distinctly aware that she looked tired, but she allowed herself a chuckle. There was no one to impress here in her stronghold. Three spheres orbited her as usual; she touched one of them absentmindedly, as if to remind herself of her power.
She made her way to the center, under the cover of the only tree in the yard: a sweeping willow. With a quick motion, Syndra sat gracefully, a dark sphere immediately materializing beneath her, providing a seat for her. She took out a comb and ran it through her silver hair, methodically straightening it. The Sovereign's gaze wandered and she let her feet push off from the ground, lifting herself into the air and upwards. Finished with the comb, she let it drop to the ground and continued her ascent into the air, rising out of the courtyard.
Eventually, she stopped her ascent, throwing her hands out briefly to steady herself. The wind was strong where she was, high above Ionia. Her eyes surveyed the land below her, and her body stiffened again as she gazed at the city-state in the distance. There, the Placidium rested, one of the most iconic structures of Ionia. Syndra looked away, a solitary figure in the sky, and allowed herself to drift back down towards the courtyard.
Suddenly, she stilled her descent, her instincts alerting her of an oddity. She tilted her head, listening carefully, before looking around. Unlikely...birds rarely go this high up, and even the ones they do usually steer clear of her fortress. It must’ve been the wind—but she swore she heard a steady flapping.
