Without his mask

Every third weekend Zed escapes his daily responsibilities and heads down to the ever so deserted local village to a small tavern of his choice. The tavern was nothing special a place for all of Ionia’s delinquents to strive and relax from the governmental forces or Irelia in general. For months all of Zed’s small places for alcoholic beverages was dismantled in search for non-other than himself. He sat at the bar and looked at the bartender anxiously, he wasn’t wearing his armour and his face was exposed to the world. Zed was a self-conscious person which surprised all those who came into contact with him, a weakness of sorts; the people of Ionia say that his armour was a cover of his true self or even a way to make those he plans to kill pity him, though no matter what others said or spoke the scar that ran along his face haunted him for the mistakes and the memories he longs to forget. The bartender was a large busted woman, who looked like a clown more than a woman of sorts. She handed him ale and went on her way to serve a strange deformed man across the way. The man spiked interest to Zed as he knew of this man’s name but not of his story. Varus looked pale and non-human in the lack of light in the tavern his blank eyes deadened and dim didn’t glow in the dark but simply appeared soft and absorbent. Zed laughed to himself as Varus walked away his feathery hair standing on end. If nobody knew of who Varus was they would not think twice of him being a rebellious teenager but all knew of his evil ways of archery, seeking revenge for whatever he wishes to seek. Zeds day had been boring and uneventful, at times he wished, Shen or Irelia would try harder to capture or even kill him, at least then his days would not turn into routine. He took another large gulp of the ale in front of him, trying to drown his sorrows and his boring life into a drunken happiness. His daily routine consist of numerous training sessions, meditation and occasionally a few jobs here and there but his nights have grown boring and uneventful, his life had become dull and as time progressed he felt that he had started to loose his motivation, his blood lust, his anger which grew large anxious filled orbs in the pit of his stomach. He was unfocused having trouble concentrating he missed his lively life of fighting and avenging. Zed slowly went to leave when a woman drew closer towards the bar, villains, and criminals created a clear path for her to hover through where she sat on a stool and ordered a drink. Zed knew this girl, everyone knew this girl. Her long white flowing hair hugged her thin attire that clung to her body profusely. It was the first Zed had been so close to her, so close to Syndra the woman that raised an island above the lands of Ionia the same woman which was uncontrollable, sinister and stayed close to her flying orbs of immense power. For the first time Zed felt fear, her aura was strong and grew stronger and stronger as the mana in the air was absorbed by her body and mind. She noticed Zed’s curiosity and an orb flung towards him startling him and making him fall off his stool to only be caught by one of her orbs. The playful tactic convinced Zed that she did not see him as an enemy but an ally, she was communicating in subjective ways with her orbs, one dared to disrupt her or anger her would fall, victim of immense pain, when one of the orbs where to hit, as heavy as a bowling ball as fast as light and has painful as death. She was the ultimate in Zed’s mind. He looked back upon the stories, myths, legends and rumours that circled around Ionia and far lands about her. She was indeed famous but not at all known for her looks nor her charm but for her wickedness and destructive nature. She was like him, unwanted by those around her, people feared her, wanted to harm her and even kill her. To be honest, Zed felt sorry for her. He scrunched his nose at the thought of pity, a dreadful practice people use all too well and all too much. The night continued the tavern roared on and Syndra’s orbs began circling Zed’s dazed head. He realised that the few drinks he had consumed during the night had started to take effect. A loud crack in the taverns door sobered him up quickly as a bunch of guards and the female warrior herself flowed into the tavern. Zed jumped off of his stool and followed into his shadow towards the vacant open window to the left of the tavern. He quickly looked in through the window to see where Syndra had ended up. If Irelia noticed the white-haired beauty she would jump at the opportunity to catch and kill her in seconds that is if Syndra does not fight back. Irelia began searching the less fortunate people stuck in the tavern wearing her usual red armour, her blade staggering in the air to her side. Karma silently walked next to her a warm aura drifting from her presence filled the tavern reaching Zed from the outside. It was all too common for Irelia to show up on nights like this, thinking she would catch off guard. Zed knew one day she would, but that would be the day she knew his identity from beneath his mask. Though his emotions were spiralling, he staggered backwards towards the village to begin heading back to the academy of shadow ninjas when a strong fill of dread pushed upon his chest. Syndra grabbed his forearm and motioned to go in the direction of the southern road heading towards the small woods on the south side of the village. The road was never used due to its inhabitants and rough mountain climbs and descents. They walked in silence for an hour or so making sure that Irelia was not going to track or follow them at any given point they decided to take a break. Syndra sat on one of her orbs and floated around Zed making him feel uncomfortable. No words were spoken just motions and emotions which made Zed feel significant and confident. She glided closer to him looking him in the eyes and tracing the scar along his face. Nobody had ever touched the scar, many do not get the pleasure to approach him let alone touch him and in one night she had been the first and Zed knew she would most likely be the last to demonstrate such kindness towards him. She fascinated him, he was never one to believe rumours or stories but from what he was told did not seem so far from the truth but looking at her, sitting in her presents she was a kind soul, similar to him just hungry for power and authority of our enemies. They glanced at the forest and back at the road to see a strange figure raising his sword towards Syndra. A tornado twirled towards her as she dodged it he grew closer to her and tried to slash her with his sword. Zed was helpless without his armour and stood back which made him frustrated. He took out a small knife and swung towards the samurai hitting him in the shoulder. He placed his sword on the ground and bowed. Zed and Syndra looked at each other Zed was confused by the situation while Syndra giggled amused by Yasuo which began walking towards them with a goofy smile plastered on his face. Who would have known that the dark princess had a friend and non-other than the sword-wielding wind machine himself? Zed knew that Yasuo had no idea on who he was, he would have killed him if that was the case, one positive aspect of not wearing his armour for his nights out. Zed knew there was no hiding from Syndra she could feel his identity but she did not care for that matter because they were similar, friends and maybe even more. From that day on Zed’s average day was to spend morning till night every third weekend with Syndra and occasionally Yasuo would join them for a drink at the local watering hole. Though this was not specifically a regular day it brought upon regular memories, and friendship showing that even the more sinister deserve happiness in their lives.
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