Here is an even BETTER version of Xerath's lore, incorporating both the League and foodstuffs

Candidate: Xerath

Date: 4 October, 21 CLE

OBSERVATION

Aside from the vaguely phallic shape of the floating strawberry popsicle, there is very little indication that the being called Xerath was ever a man. His presence is cold and unfeeling, with nothing to be read upon the frozen fruit zenith one might call his head.

He does not pause to observe the hallway around him. Xerath approaches the massive doors to the Reflection Chamber and, with a sweep of his bullet-shaped noggin, they open before him.

REFLECTION

The doors had only just closed behind Xerath when Darude's Sandstorm obscured his hearing. Violent, incessant DU DU DU DU filled his ears, and he realized in horror that it began to eat away at his very form. The crystalline form of his body melted away into rivulets of flavored syrup. Worse still, Xerath felt himself grow slushy. As the oversized popsicle drowned within the mother of overplayed songs, the frozen fruit juice that made up his form faded, replaced by flesh and bone.

EDM had turned against him. He was human again.

Around him, Sandstorm's beat somehow gained shape in the darkness. He recognized the sandstone walls and the statues that rose from the floor to the ceiling. These regal figures clasped bowls of Jello to their chests, and their eyes, plated in gold, gazed eternally down into the Jello molds before them. He was in the Temple of the Jello, where all the mages of Shurima practiced their jello-making ways.

The peers of Xerath's youth competed beneath their Magi ancestors. They mixed water and gelatin inside various plastic bowls, shaping the jello into visually pleasing edibles. Such was the charge of mages: the greatest masters of Jello would stand victorious over all other dessert chefs.

Xerath watched silently at the temple's wall, entranced by the light from their jello. Nothing whetted his thirst for jello as jello did. Its dull wobble called to him, and in its depths he knew there lay a thousand subtle flavors.

"Why do you not join them, Xerath?"

The voice broke his focus. Azir, one of his fellow mages, stood beside him. Azir's sudden appearance and the look of Azir's smile made Xerath stumble with his words for a moment. "Ah... well... we have our differences."

"You are a mage of Shurima," Azir said. He moved closer to Xerath. "We use the same Jello molds. What differences do you mean?"

"The way they mix their Jello," he replied, turning his gaze back to the other mages. "They make molds of Jello, but they don't understand. The more you force your control over it, the more you lose your true connection to the jello."

"Jello is chaotic. You know the lessons. Without a mage's guiding hand, we can only hope to control how the jello tastes."

"Yes, but if it's pure Jello we want..." Xerath cupped his hand. In the curl of his slender fingers, a blue-violet Jello blobbed into existence. He knew he could shape it as he wished, but he simply let it jiggle. On its own, with only the slightest prodding, the Jello grew. Soon it jiggled obscenely in his hand, its untempered flavor beckoning to him and teasing his very tongue.

"All it needs is a spork," he said.

He turned his gaze up from the jello to see Azir looking at him, not his Jello. Azir smiled again, and Azir's beauty drew Xerath's mind away from the jello. Between them, the Jello's jiggling grew stronger...

...and then reality blurred around him.

The temple darkened and Azir's face faded from Xerath's view. For a moment Xerath remembered the summoners' trick and the Institute of War, but pain drew him back into another memory.

Here, limitless ingested Jello weighed him down from the inside out. Deep within, at his very core, he felt a burgeoning sickness where the Jello jiggled too fiercely, threatening to force its way up his esophagus and out his mouth in the form of projectile vomit.

The jello needed a vessel... but his mere human stomach could only hold so much.

Xerath grimaced. "I will not allow this mortal body to stop me." He held out his hand. Jello sprung from his fingertips, crackling with artificial red coloring as it formed rubbery cubes that hung briefly in the air.

The wobbling, strawberry-red Jello quickly grew to a tumultuous jello quake around him. An ancestral statue shattered, its pieces falling into the Jello and shaking the foundation of the temple. It took all of his strength and will to hold the Jello. Even then it swelled and rippled, threatening to break free.

But a voice rose above the chaos. "Xerath! Stop!"

Azir.

Xerath's hold over the ritual wavered as he turned towards Azir's voice. Azir stood at the foot of a Magi ancestor, Azir's dark hair a stark frame to Azir's pale, beautiful face.

"You mustn't do this," Azir shouted, eyes burning fearlessly. "It will suffocate you. It is killing you already, and you would only let it do its work faster!"

"Azir," Xerath pleaded, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Please, you don't understand..."

The spiraling jello rippled and pulsated like your mom above them. Xerath felt it slip further from his grasp.

"You do not need this," Azir said, and there was pleading in his voice, too. "Stop it now, and you can recover. You can eat balanced meals again. I can help you," he paused. "Come home."

Xerath's will faltered. Perhaps he was right. He imagined himself at home, away from the Magi and the jello forever, and all the cavities it had caused him. The way it had eaten at his molars from within, all gone. Perhaps...

Azir mouthed something, but Xerath could not hear him. The Jello above Azir shuddered and began to collapse.

"Azir! NO!"

At the sound of Azir's scream, the rest of the Jello began to crumble with the force of Xerath's spell. He'd lost control. At its center, he covered his face with his hands, shouting Azir's name in agony as he watched a possessed Azir wallow throughout the Jello, eating himself to death. His brief vision of home and escape from the Jello had been lost as soon as he'd found the strength to reach for it.

It was too late to stop the spell. The Jello would consume him, too, and he trembled in terror at the prospect. All of his efforts for naught... everything he'd worked for, lost.

Unless he finished the ritual.

He hesitated. Part of him wished to accept death, but a greater part still remembered what he'd set out to do—to become Jello. To transcend the mortal body that held other mages back.

He had nothing left but this. Though his whole body ached with weakness, Xerath steeled himself.

I will become Jello... or I will die.

He raised his arms and the writhing mass of Jello above him again gained some semblance of form, but still it expanded, destroying the remaining Magi statues and the temple's walls. Xerath pulled the Jello inward with all the strength he could muster, blocking out what he could see of the temple collapsing around him.

For a moment, in the chaos of the jello, he could see a reflection of himself: a pale, emaciated man, aged well beyond his years.

As the Jello engulfed him, Xerath's eyes were full of fear.

In an instant, the chaos subsided. Xerath was back in the Reflection Chamber, and a hooded summoner stood before him.

"All that Jello," said the summoner, "And now you are a popsicle."

"An inconvenience," Xerath replied as a shiny bead of juice trickled down his one wooden leg, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"Yet not what you envisioned when you took control of that Jello. Do you have regret, Magus?"

"I do not."

“Really? You're a freaking popsicle now.”

“Ok, maybe a little bit. But I would do it all over again if given the chance.”

The summoner scowled. "You sacrificed yourself, your people, and the man you loved... all for Jello. Jello you can no longer be."

"As I said," Xerath continued. "An inconvenience. I will become Jello."

"Why do you want to join the League, Xerath?"

At this, Xerath paused. "Well, I hear there is a champion who goes by the name of Zac..."

THE END

Basically, what I'm trying to say is this: it could be worse, Xerath fans. New Xerath may have some differences from Old Xerath, but at least he wasn't turned into a gay strawberry popsicle man.

Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, of course. It's just that Xerath was originally straight, not gay. Although, I suppose the gender of Xerath's love interest isn't all that important. What matters is that he was once somewhat capable of feeling love. Then again, if Xerath were gay, it would explain why he is listed as Cassiopeia's favorite shopping buddy in her bio.