Although Fae'lor was constantly described as a crucial chokepoint, a natural fortress easily defended and hard to attack, its original design was never meant to be a military stronghold. In fact, it was thousands of miles away from being a fortress; it was a center of peace and enlightenment.
In that era, countless talented Ionian youths would travel from all directions to learn how to better master their innate gifts—this was also one of the reasons the new arrivals had come to Fae'lor. Because in the past, this place wasn't just where Ionia's geniuses cultivated, meditated, and honed their skills and spirits. It was also Ionia's window to the outside world. Scholars from distant lands, including the Noxians of today, actually arrived at Fae'lor Island first before entering mainland Ionia.
Under those circumstances, the Fae'lor of the past was incredibly prosperous. In certain academic aspects, it could rival the Placidium, perhaps even slightly surpassing it.
But that was a long, long time ago. Forget Shen and Usan; even Kalan, a Kiilash with a lifespan far exceeding a human's, had never experienced such an era. However, as Faen ventured deeper into the cave hiding the Dreaming Pool, guided by his powerful Spirit Realm perception and Karma's "certification," he could clearly feel the land spirit of this island weeping in agony.
Land spirits were ubiquitous in Ionia. Each one was a part of the Spirit of Ionia, a projection of the entire region within the Spirit Realm. By communicating with these spirits, Ionians could face life in a relaxed state. Even when encountering hardships, as long as they were willing to communicate, the world itself was willing to assist them. In fact, Ionia had always supported a significant number of idlers who produced nothing, lacked ambition, and had no intention of marrying or having children; they survived entirely on the fruits gifted out of pity by the spirits of nature and trees.
But here, Faen heard only the continuous, feeble whimpers of the land spirit. It was as if it might die at any moment, yet was unable to. It could only watch the outside world change like a paralyzed patient in a vegetative state, unable to move a muscle, needing external assistance even to blink.
Actually, it probably would have been better off dead in this state. Unfortunately, the Spirit of Ionia needed the Spirit of Fae'lor to suppress Ionia's darkness, and so the Spirit of Fae'lor was reduced to this—a total, barren wasteland. A prison with no hope and no future. An island where almost no vegetation grew around the fortress; from afar, only dry brambles and ghostly pale moss could thrive here.
In stark contrast, the neighboring islands were teeming with countless birds and other wildlife. They likely used to rest here in the past, right? But now, they bypassed it entirely, preferring to risk being eaten by large fish while resting on coastal reefs rather than landing on Fae'lor. Of course, this wasn't an absolute rule. With the arrival of the Noxians, many ravens—symbols of hatred and ill omen—had also come to Fae'lor. Their red eyes and shrill caws added a touch of grim horror to the desolate landscape.
Walking at the front, Faen felt this the deepest, but he didn't say a word. He just led the team deeper into the dark cavern. Even though it was midsummer, the air grew increasingly colder as they descended—not the freezing cold of winter, but a bone-chilling, piercing frost.
Before long, they arrived at the deepest part of Darha Ye Ashira—the alternative name for the Dreaming Pool.
Reaching the very bottom, the group spread out in a line behind Faen, looking down into the depths of the distant pool. A woman in white, with a pale and graceful complexion, lay there. Her hair and face were completely submerged beneath the surface of the water, her pure white tresses fanning out lazily around her in the still, undisturbed pool.
Syndra—this was both her name and a synonym for destruction, representing succumbing to one's darkest fears and rage. To this day, the name was still cursed in many provinces. And the reason for those curses was largely identical to the reason Fae'lor had become what it was today.
Looking at the slumbering girl, everyone wore a solemn expression.
This ancient cavern had half-collapsed. The other half was barely supported by the massive root network of an ancient tree, and these roots also entwined Syndra's limbs. The roots looked like a loving mother cradling a baby, but they also looked like they were suppressing and binding her. Exactly what state it represented depended on how each person viewed Syndra in their heart. Irelia, for instance, didn't feel much oppression.
Though she looked dead, Syndra's chest rose and fell in a steady, rhythmic pattern, breathing the water of the pool.
"Actually, I've always thought that rather than standing guard here in vain, it would be better to just kill her directly," said Sirik, the Unspoken.
"And that thought of yours is precisely one of the reasons Syndra loses control," Faen replied, providing the answer and the cause without even turning his head. This left Sirik baffled, but after a glance at the Twin Dragon Mark on Faen's hand, she ultimately chose to close her mouth and remain silent.
Staring at Syndra for a while, Faen nodded silently to himself.
As one of the veteran champions of League of Legends, Syndra's original splash art was arguably one of the most classic "Domineering Queen" looks in the game. But after her update, she was transformed directly into a "Western auntie." It wasn't that she looked bad, but her angular jawline, scimitar-like eyebrows, and the thick lips and facial features typical of Western aunties simply didn't fit Eastern aesthetics. It completely contradicted the facial structure of someone like Irelia, who also hailed from Ionia—well, while Irelia's features were Eastern, the makeup in her updated splash art was quite Western. Her illustrations and concept art in her personal stories fit the Eastern standard of delicate beauty much better.
Faen breathed a sigh of relief. In his timeline, both Irelia and Syndra perfectly matched his Eastern aesthetic standards.
Thinking this, Faen sensed something and turned his gaze toward Irelia beside him.
In his line of sight, Irelia was currently staring blankly at Syndra in the Dreaming Pool, lost in thought. It was only when she noticed Faen's gaze that she pulled her thoughts back. She looked at Faen, pointed a finger at Syndra, and said, "Senior Brother, that sister... she looks very lonely."
"...Mhm."
Hearing Irelia's words, Faen nodded. He then unhurriedly stepped into the pool, wading through the water toward Syndra. As he walked, he said: "Keep watch outside. I'm going to wake her."