Family Business Interlude: Sylas 2

Family Business
Interlude: Sylas 2

-VB-

Anything worthwhile took time to accomplish, and a Demacia better than the one in place took time to make.

Slowly, word spread of his leadership and passion and power. The mistreated, the unwanted, the outcasts, and more came to his banner. They screamed for a world where they could live freely as themselves in their homeland.

He would give it to them.

“Umm, boss. There’s people here to talk with you.”

Sylas turned to his adjutant, an untrained magician who’s been living out in the boonies by himself after being kicked out of his home for no good reason. A middle-aged balding man, he was, despite his lack of training, in well control over his magic.

Something about using his magic to find magic mushrooms?

“Well, let’s see who they are.”

It’s been over a month since he’s started to gather recruits, and he’s come across some funny people. Most of them were idiots who thought throwing a fireball or a iceball or a arcane bolt or something explosive in general made them genius magicians. He made sure to quickly dissuade them of that notion.

Hopefully, these people were more competent.

He stepped out of his tent and saw them. Dressed in black cloaks and simply exuding magic despite trying to keep it in, Sylas knew right off the bat they were bad business.

“... Yeah, this guy’s Sylas,” the smallest of them, a woman barely half as tall as the tallest giant, said with a huff.

That was apparently enough.

The middle height guy rushed him abruptly, completely ignoring the fact that they were at the center of his army’s tent ground. People screamed and shouted, but the same woman who’d spoken snapped her fingers and the entire place burned in one giant explosion.

Sylas spun in place, spinning the chains attached to his cuffs around like a saw blade. The buzzing chains stopped the rusher, but then Sylas stopped as he saw the shadow of his assaulters closing in on him from above. He dashed to the side, kicking up dust and ruining the forest floor foliage, and then jumped back in when the black cloaked attackers - all wielding magic! - slammed into where he’d been a moment ago. As the ground cratered underneath the giant man, Sylas snapped his chains forward.

Only for him to intentionally grab onto it and pull him.

As he flew towards the giant man, the others, those who’d come with him, came rushing out of the shadows with magic blades, plain plains, and crackling magic.

They meant to kill him.

Sylas growled as he allowed himself to land on his feet on the ground before kicking towards the man still holding his chains. This act took the perpetrator by surprise, and Sylas landed a solid kick to his chest.

The kick sent the giant skidding back and letting go of his chains, and Sylas used that to pull his chains back and spin around again. This time, he loaded his magic at the tips.

The charger came back … and then got slapped by one of his chains. There was a brief moment when the chain wrapped around his chest and then there was a keening sound -.

BBOOOMM!

“Terry!” the woman shouted as the charger’s chest caved in and slumped on the spot. There was no way he would be getting up from that. She turned to him, and pointed a finger.

Sylas felt his spine tingle in warning, and he ducked.

His instincts were proven right when he heard something explode far behind him.

And then she pointed down.

He jumped to the side, but nothing happened-!

“GAH!” he screamed in pain as something slammed down on his back and sent him crashing into the ground. His scream cut out when he felt something stab into his neck. It wasn’t a knife. It was narrow, thin, and … and …

And…

And…….

-VB-

His eyes slowly opened. “Wha..” he muttered. His head spun like he had a hangover but worse. Everything was heavy, and there were lights everywhere…

“Ah, looks like the would-be revolutionary is awake.”

His eyes snapped awake, only for him to shut them close as quickly as he had opened them when the light intensified his headache. “Who …?”

“It’s us. You killed Terry, by the way. Boss is not going to be happy about that.”

Boss? Terry?

… Wait, were these people the magicians he’d been fighting?

“Why are you fighting against me…?”

“Because your stupid ass prison break nearly got my entire family killed.”

Sylas groaned. It just had to be like that, huh?

“I only,” he grunted as he tried to sit up, but something pulled him down instantly. “I only did what I had to do…”

“And what you had to do,” a deep and gruff voice grunted from above him. “Nearly got my people killed, and we aren’t even from the Great City of Demacia.”

Sylas admitted that he was very confused. “Where are you taking me…?” he groaned out.

“Back to Demacia for your execution. You will earn those born with magic a chance to live a good life with your death.”

He opened his eyes slowly and saw four people. Still wearing the same black cloaks as they had when they fought him, they now had their hoods pulled back.

“Who are you…?”

The giant turned to him. Bald, muscular, chiseled, and hard-looking, he looked like the muscle or the leader of the group. “We are the Black Guard of Lord Jorasmang, and you are the insect that decided to get in his way.”

Sylas instantly tried to use his magic, only to scream as his body lit up in pain!

“Don’t even try. This is the standard capture tape of the Black Guard,” muscles grunted before he punched Sylas in the face. “It turns any magic it is exposed to into electricity, and it is very conductive. Any form of pull also causes it to squeeze harder, so escape is impossible.”

Sylas gasped as the pain ended, shivering on top of whatever they were moving in. Was it a cart? How could he escape?

“But it’s too late for any kind of escape plan anyways.”

He heard voices. A lot of voices.

And then his eyes widened as he saw a familiar arch of a familiar gate leading into a very familiar city.

“W-We’re already in Demacia…?” he whispered out in horror.

“You’ve been asleep for two days,” muscles chuckled darkly. “Our lord’s potions are really effective like that. Two days, no more and no less.”

Sylas turned left and right and saw people. They glared at him.

They hated him.

There was no escape, not with these four looming over him.

…

He was dead, wasn’t he?