Everything was dying. She could feel the earth beneath her feet crumble with every step. Death and decay had consumed the land before her, and she had started this journey to figure out why. Sadly, she had found out first hand as to why these once lush lands had grown to be called the Plague Lands. A dark and ancient magic had woven itself into the earth, consuming and destroying everything that existed within these lands. This magic had woven itself into the very air, with each breath this journey for the truth caused her to make, she found herself growing ever weaker. She was dying.
She once was a wondrous mage, and for the first few days of her journey in the Plague Lands, it showed. Sarah Terania used to be her name. She had left her home in Demacia to search for a way to fix the decaying lands, or at least to search for an answer as to why they were decaying. During the first few days she had woven a magical field around her body to ward off any unknown effects the Plague Lands might have on her body, but after the first few days she found that it had been a pointless effort. The residue of magic that sank into the very fabric of the land was much stronger than anything she could have created, and eventually the poison started to seep into her body. She’d never see her home again.
After the third day of her journey for the truth behind the Plague Lands, she felt the first stabbing pains within her chest. At this point the barrier she had created around herself had started to shimmer, and soon collapsed around her. She couldn’t keep the barrier up any longer without causing herself to pass out from the strain it was suddenly taking to use her magic. She noted this even in her journal, and continued forth. In her journal, she noted how the plants seemed to be sickly and akin to weeds. They were a sickly green color, and many of the plants had red thorns around them. This observation was noted as taking place on the fourth day of her journey.
As the days went on, Sarah found herself observing more and more about the land around her. She felt a feeling of paranoia slip into her mind, as if she were being watched. She stopped marking the dates in her journal, each entry becoming more frantic then the last. Every now and then a droplet or two of blood would accompany the ink of the pages. She thought the plants were moving around, and had a wish to help the plants. She could feel a vine crumble with each step she took, and eventually she found herself within the center of the plague lands.
In the center was a small building. It was empty, but it also reeked of the residue of magical energy, as if a vortex of magic had been unleashed here. Sarah’s notes started to become obsessive over this vortex. What was causing it? Was it the reason the Plague Lands were so toxic? Or was there something else that was slowly killing the land, and her. She spent the last of her waking days here, in the center of the Plague Lands, studying these ruins, and the vortex it contained.
She noted that the vortex seemed to harbor vines, and her paranoia was causing her to feel like the vines were creeping in on her. She wondered why the vines were so enthralled with a vortex of magic. Was it because the vortex was feeding the plants, or was it that the vortex was feeding off of the vines around it, drawing more and more to feed its desire for power?
Sarah didn’t know, she neverwrote what happened on her last day alive on the world. The last few pages of her journal were consumed with this paranoia of plants. ‘The plants are watching me, they won’t leave me be. I can hear them whistling, calling to me, but I won’t follow. I have research to do. I can’t leave this place until I find out what’s going on… The vines around the ruins are pulsating. They seem to be dancing before my eyes. I can’t help but watch as they dance and squirm against the vortex. Why are they moving?’
Those were the last notes in her journal. Sarah had left her journal open to investigate those ‘dancing’ vines, and her small, weak state seemed to clear something up in her addled head. The ‘vortex’ of magic she had been seeing, was really a large plant. There had never been a vortex of magic. There wasn’t any force working its magic here, in this location. Sarah’s paranoia would turn out to be warranted, for it had been this plant, spewing out toxic seeds from its red buds, which had been killing the young, curious mage. She watched it for a few minutes as the buds that seemed to line the ruins spewed out toxic clouds of poisonous dust.
And then she screamed. She started to run out of the ruins as the vines seemed to shake and shimmer around her, and then they sprung. The vines wrapped around her feet as she tried to run, and Sarah used what little magic she could muster to burn away at these vines. The large red flower seemed to shake and scream as Sarah weakly burned away at some of the vines, managing to escape the trap it had been setting up. Just moments after stumbling out of the ruins, the whole building was engulfed in the green, thorn covered vines.
Moments later, the vines started to coil around each other, becoming thick appendages that started to slither across the ground. Their target was the frightened, dying woman. She tried to run, but fell into a fit of wretched coughs, coughing up bits of her own blood as she stumbled forward. Then she slipped. Her journal, which she had been writing in for this whole journey, would be her final downfall. The leather bound book slipped out from under her feet, and caused her to tumble forwards. She tried to create something, anything, with her magic to stave off that large, thorny appendage slithering towards her, but she was too weak now. It was over for her.
“Please, no! I’m trying to save you!” She yelled weakly at the vines, they were undeterred. The appendage wrapped around her foot, and started to drag her towards the bundles of vines. She clawed at the ground, pulling up dead plants with each grab, red thorns stabbing into her hand as she tried desperately to get away from the plant that was trying to steal her away.
Soon, she was gone. Sarah had been dragged into the bulb of vines, and was hung in front of the red flower. The appendage of vines wrapped around her legs, and then another wrapped around each arm, and soon her entire body except for her head was engulfed in the thorny vines. But this wasn’t the worst of it. This plant was hungry. It needed nourishment to survive, and the Plague Lands had grown empty of anything decent to devour.
So the plant took its time with taking Sarah. She could feel as those thorns that dug into her skin started to wiggle and burrow into her flesh. She felt as the plant itself started to take root in her body, the vines traveling through her arms, legs, back and front. She felt the vines start to burrow beneath the skin of her neck, and she cried out softly, too weak to do anything else.
“Please… I just wanted…. To help.” She cried softly, her mind too far gone to feel any pain anymore. Then the final, most disturbing thing she felt happened. She heard what sounded like a ‘thank you’ come from the plant. Her eyes would grow wide as the vines traveled through her neck, crawling beneath her flesh and into her skull. And then Sarah ceased to exist.
The plant fed off of its meal, slowly draining it of anything and everything it had. It looked through its meal’s memories, and learned about the world outside of the plague lands. A forest of stone, where many delicious creatures much like this one exist; more importantly though, it learned that it could use the magic that existed within its prey.
The plant used this new found knowledge to form the last of its vines up into a body, much like its victim’s. The vines coiled around each other, creating legs, hips, torso, arms, and finally a head. The plant weaved magic into these plants to merge the vines together, creating a human-like body with an upper torso that was outlined by a green clothing like plant, leaving the ‘skin’ too look very human like. Vines burst from the scalp of the body, creating a reddish hue of hair, and finally, flower like openings formed upon her shoulders. The plant’s new body was complete.
With one final weaving of magic, the plant forced its core into this new body, and as a flood of new sensations entered her mind, she watched as her old body withered and died. This was it. She had nowhere else to go now. The death of this body would be permanent, no network of vines to hide through. She searched through the vast knowledge she had absorbed from her meal and gave herself a suitable name. Zyra had been born anew.
Ok, well. I decided to write a story basically lengthening what happened between the 'mage' that Zyra consumed to become Zyra. A little silly, but I enjoyed making it. Let me know what you all think. =)