Author's Note: Hello there! If you already know me, you have been warned about this. :D If not, welcome to the story! This is a Jhin and OC one shot that started as a brainstorm idea and ended up being 5.1K words, this is insane! Huge shout out to crazyLatern for helping me (yet again) put my ideas on the correct order so I could create this story! If you happen to like this, go check out my other story "The Silver Crossbow". If you are fond of drama and adventure, I can promise you will find it all there! So without further ado, let's head to the story!
They would understand his genius - eventually. They would open their eyes and embrace true art. Despite of the time this might needed, Khada Jhin was determined to grace them all with his work. With 'Whisper' as his paintbrush, he created. He made them complete. He made them beautiful. He made them perfect.
He was everything that would describe an original artist. He had all the power and the respect he could ask for. But he lacked an audience. Someone who would grant him the praise and the confirmation he needed. Someone who would appreciate his work. A person who would appreciate true art.
He would never admit but he envied some of the other Ionian artists; not the way they performed for he considered it too simple and unoriginal. He envied them for their ability to attract an audience and earning applause for something they hardly ever put effort to create. They were all the same to him. Low level people with no trace of passion or interest for what they do, who had the nerve to call themselves artists.
However, every rule bears an exception and in this case, it was no different. A certain Ionian artist has caught his eye a long while ago. He had been watching her from distance, admiring how passionate she seemed everytime she described her work to her audience. The way her brows would furrow in thought while she stared at the blank canvas, the twinkles of light appearing inside her warm chocolate eyes when she finished working on a painting, the way the paintbrush moved against the canvas as if it was an extension of her own hand; everything about her was worth praising. Her works were promising and pleasant to watch. But she was missing that little something only he could give her. True artistic integrity. It was true, she was passionate and serious about her art. Her view of it though was quite a shallow one.
He wanted to make her see behind the landscapes, the nature, the people. He meant to show her that art was something that emanates from the deepest abyss of one's soul. Something personal yet so common. Something original and unrepeatable. Once she embraced the true meaning of art, she would be the perfect canvas. A canvas on which he would create his best work yet. His masterpiece. Through her, he would be finally ready to grace the world with his genius. They would leave the shallow waters of the common artwork and become a part of something deeper. Something that does justice to the message he has been trying to convey for so long. He knew at this moment, he had found his muse. Someone who had the potential to become perfect. Her artistic personality along with her looks was all he needed to create his best work yet. It would be the most memorable highlight of his career. The grand masterpiece that would make his name and his art known all over Valoran. He would finally obtain the audience he's been craving for. His work of art would gain a reason to exist at last. And he would finally feel complete.
The colours black and red were not the ones he would use to describe her with, but they seemed to be a common pattern on every painting of hers. Walking further inside her gallery, he noticed that even the interior decorations would bear those colours. It made him wonder what importance they held on her and what was her perspective on the meaning of them combined together. His gaze followed the row of paintings exhibited on the wall when he stopped to a certain one that drew his attention. The painting was consisted of a single crimson red rose blooming in the midnight storm. Her message might not have been clear to the rest of her audience, but he understood what she was talking about. He could relate to the way she felt and the way she expressed herself. She was not but a lost little flower who needed someone to guide her to the right path. And he knew he could be that person. He would be that person.
The sound of heels clicking on the hard wooden floor filled his ears as he noticed a smaller female figure standing beside him, her eyes fixed on the painting.
He regarded her for several seconds, noticing how much different she looked when she wasn't on a public stage exhibiting her paintings. Strands of her golden brown locks were falling carelessly on her face, most of them held up by a dark red ribbon. Her almond shaped brown eyes were glued on the painting in front of her and her full pink lips were slightly parted as she was getting lost into the picture. He was right after all. She was a piece of art. Pure art.
" I am impressed. I have been running this gallery for a while and I will admit I haven't seen anybody showing such interest for this particular work. Yet somehow I consider this my best one yet. So tell me sir, what intrigued you in this artwork? "
He smiled through his mask as the words reached his ears. So hungry for knowledge. Such an interesting woman.
" It is quite simple. Through a single painting, you portray your view on life. People value life more than death because the first one is a sweet lie and the other one is a bitter truth. Isn't that your message? "
The look on her face held many emotions. He could tell he had earned her respect by the way her eyes were torn from the painting and met his and the way she silently gasped when he voiced her thoughts. She frowned at the sight of his mask as if she was trying to remember if she had met him before. She decided to save that thought for later on and try to get to know the mysterious man a little bit more.
"Exactly. Consider me impressed, once again. Until now, nobody understood what I am trying to say. People admire my work without making an effort to explore the deeper message hidden within. "
A misunderstood artist; a small caged bird fighting for someone to set it free. That was what she actually was. He understood her better and better each minute passing. She was almost ready. Almost.
" Common people cannot see beyond the canvas and the blended colours. This is why such a piece of art does not earn the appreciation it deserves. You see society, just like this painting, is a destructive storm that can come and go like the wind. However, traces of its presence there will always exist. These intense droplets of rain represent the people and the criticism an artist will receive from time to time. Sometimes they are strong and tense, sometimes not. And then there is the flower. A special person who chose not to be another droplet in the rain and instead make a difference to the world. This is what I call art. Therefore, the flower symbolises the artist. The odd one out who never committed themselves to be just a face in the crowd. The one who created. The one who lived. "
She listened to him talk awestruck about the man's ability to precisely voice everything she felt since she started off as an artist. The way he analysed her painting did more than enough to impress her. It was no secret to her that he was possibly an artist as well. She was intrigued by him, not only as a man but also as a work of art. He could see the admiration she held for him in her chaste brown eyes and he was content with it. His work would turn out perfect. All he needed was some more time with her and then, she'd be ready.
" I take it that you are a very experienced artist yourself. Your view on art seems cruel but it holds truth in it. Artists will do anything to keep their message intact, as far as it expresses them. And this is why the world seems chaotic to us. "
Most of the people have long left the gallery, but none of the two seemed to mind. This conversation was exactly what Jhin needed to get to know his muse and artwork well enough to be able to turn her into a masterpiece. He let out an almost silent sigh looking back at her.
" Chaos is not a negative aspect of this world, Miss. It is in carnage that we bloom, like a flower in the dawn. No matter how many droplets of rain fall on us, we shall never wither. On the contrary, each and every droplet makes us stronger. It makes us bloom. "
His words were passionate and true as he voiced them; they held a significant meaning. But, as soon as she heard them, she knew she has definitely met the man before, or at least heard of him. But who was he? What secrets and mysteries lied hidden behind the ivory mask?
" I think it is time for me to ask. Who are you? I have the feeling we have met before. Or I have at least heard of you and your work somewhere. You sound oddly familiar. "
The room fell silent for several seconds, which only managed to raise her suspense levels. This man was a fairly good artist. He made sure to put on a show even when he was talking. Every place could be his stage and everything could be used as a part of his performance. Even this. Even her.
" I do not intend to brag about it, but my work is broadly known in every village and every coast of the island of Ionia. So far, people have only been negative about it. It is only because they fail to see the art in what I do. They will understand my genius - eventually. They will sing along to the song of the Golden Demon. "
He didn't miss the flashes of realisation and terror in her eyes as he spoke those words. She was still like the rest of them; she didn't understand. The difference between them and her though was that she had the potential to understand. She was an immaculate mind which could broaden its horizons for the better. He could make her see clearly. He could make her appreciate true art.
"Khada Jhin. I have heard a lot about you, indeed. Little people have seen you and from those who did, not even half lived long enough to tell the tale. I cannot bring myself to understand how could you commit such atrocities in the name of art. Art is supposed to be something pure and beautiful. It is not meant to be associated with murder. You can't consider yourself an artist. "
He sighed behind his mask, her words were nothing strange to him. Just another droplet of rain in his petals. She would see the truth. Everybody would.
" Oh, I agree. Art is pure and beautiful. But answer me this; what is more beautiful and pure than death? I suppose you recognise these aspects. All of your works refer to it. It doesn't differ from my own. I am just providing my audience with art in a more graphic way. "
She filled her nostrils with fresh air to heal her drained lungs. The atmosphere was only getting thicker as the conversation went on, only for her to realise that she could be one of his targets. Her chances of survival around him were minimum if she kept the attitude up. She would die eventually, that she knew. Though, she was content she would at least fall in the name of art. The one thing she valued more than her life.
" You are here to kill me, aren't you? If so, go ahead. I have nothing to lose. I would do anything for the sake of art. "
Jhin smiled behind his mask, feeling emotionally overwhelmed by her words. 'Anything for the sake of art'. What an example of a true artist she was. A muse of inspiration for him.
" As much as I would love to turn you into a breathtaking masterpiece, I'm afraid I have to depart. But before I go, let me know who did I have the honour of speaking to? "
She blinked twice before bringing herself to process his words. Good, at least she was alive. For now.
" Arwen. My name is Arwen. "
Arwen. Even her name was implying art within its meaning. She was indeed his grand prize. His masterpiece.
" It was delightful to meet you, Arwen. Until next time. "
Months have passed since her first encounter with the Virtuoso. She has heard enough about him and his most recent works but hasn't seen him since the night on her gallery. During that time, she occasionally found herself staring at her favourite dark painting, the one he was praising at the night they met. Looking at it over and over again, she realised that he was right about it. She did portray death as something pure and beautiful, so was she really any different from him? She was seeking the truth behind the veil of lies on everything she worked on. She valued her art more than anything else. But most importantly, she has learned to appreciate art in every shape or form.
And so did he.
She came to realise the truth in his words and how wrong she was about him and herself this whole time. They were, in fact, more similar than she thought they were.
A soft knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts. She frowned fixing back the paperwork on her hands before standing up to answer it. Behind the door stood her personal secretary; a traditional young Ionian woman with strawberry blonde hair and goggle green eyes. The woman greeted Arwen with a bow of her head, the second mimicking her moves right after.
" My shift is finished for tonight, miss Arwen. If there is nothing else you possibly need from me, I will be taking my leave. "
She smiled gratefully at her employee's manners and dismissed her from the office with a nod.
After she made sure that the gallery was empty, she exited the building locking the doors behind her. Her day has been rather busy and all she needed was to return back home as soon as possible. However, her plans seemed like they wouldn't come true anytime soon.
A gang of five older men were making their way towards her, beers on their hands. Panicked, she looked around her considering her options. Nobody was outside at this time of the night so there was no point in screaming for help. Her only choice was to run as fast as her feet could take her to some place safe. Her first thought was the Palacidium but it was a ten minute walk from where she currently was. Running out of options and time, she decided to start running to the direction of the Palacidium.
And so she did.
She briefly turned around to look at the men and her eyes were filled with surprise. Only two of them were still chasing her and the rest were nowhere to be seen. That was until she bumped on something hard which made her lose her balance. The collision sent her flying to the floor a few centimeters back. Malicious laughter could be heard from the men behind her as they came closer, circulating her along with the rest of the gang. With no further escape she just remained on the floor shaking and crying, hoping they wouldn't harm her. At least not too much.
" Aye, look at what we've got here boys! Sweetheart, what is a lady of your likes doing alone in the deserted Ionian streets at this time of the night? "
One of the men bent down lifting her chin up with his greasy fingers forcing her to look at him. She tried to turn her head away from his piercing gaze but the man was persistent and forced her eyes on his once again. His hand traced a path starting from her thighs and moving slowly upwards. She shivered in disgust at the man's touch and decided that enough was enough. She slapped his hand away before it reaches its destination and with a shaky breath she mustered up the power to spit on his face. The sudden attack momentarily surprised the man who instinctively took two steps back regaining his composure.
" So this is how it's going to be, huh? Boys, I think this one deserves special treatment. "
A large palm collided with her cheek with such force that it caused her head to turn the other way. Her eyes glimmered forming a small amount of tears as she heard the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling. She breathed heavily accepting her fate until the sound of a trigger also caught her ears.
One. The first bullet ripped through one of the men's skull. She watched in horror as murky red liquid was gushing from the hole between his eyes. " What the hell? What is this? " another man shouted in horror watching his partner explode into ashes forming a rose underneath.
Two. Before the man could protest more, another bullet fired from afar piercing through his throat in the same style as the previous one making the man dissolve into rose petals and ashes.
Three. Another one of the five fell from the shots leaving only two men standing, looking at each other horrified.
Four. This explosion was nothing like the others. The last bullet was seemingly different than the other three, coming with a force that created a massive explosion from which only one of the men barely survived.
There was not a sound of a trigger or a gun anymore. Silence fell on the scenery; a welcoming peace that did not indicate anything that has previously happened. The last man standing furiously looked around him searching for the sniper that wiped out his gang.
" Show yourself, coward!"
Arwen gasped when she heard an all familiar voice approaching them, humming on a traditional Ionian tune. Of course it was him. She should have known. Everything was just too surreal for the man to be a common mercenary. No, this was the handiwork of an artist.
His intimidating ivory mask glowed under the dim street light as he made his way down the alley. She stole a glance from him studying the emotions his eyes betrayed as he scanned the area around him. Pride, satisfaction, passion. He looked beautiful, almost normal dare she say, when he was admiring his work.
"Five men abusing a helpless mistress in the middle of the night? How unoriginal. It is truly a shame how art ended up being such a commodity. " he said as he slowly pulled the trigger and fired a bullet on the man's leg.
" Gah! Who the hell are you? "
A silent sadistic laugh escaped Jhin's lips as he fired another bullet to his other leg. The man collapsed on the floor his breaths heavy and calculated as his senses threatened to leave him due to blood loss.
" That's it, sing you little songbird. Sing for me. "
A third bullet found its way into the man's chest who let out a desperate cry begging and pleading for his life to be spared. She regarded him in awe as he twirled the gun on his hand for several seconds until he fired a last fatal bullet that turned the man into a compilation of golden dust and red coloured rose petals.
He immediately turned his attention to her, offering his hand. She took it and stood up dusting herself off from all the blood and the dirt covering her clothes.
" Miss Arwen. Are you injured? "
She shook her head giving him a grateful smile as she spoke.
" No, I am fine. Thanks to you. I don't know how you found me but thank you for saving me. "
He nodded placing the gun back to his hip and readjusting his mask.
" In that case, follow me. There is something I want to show you. "
She didn't have a good feeling about this but she complied nonetheless. He was the one to save her after all.
" Where are we going? "
He ignored her question walking along beside her humming on the same tune he was before. She intensely stared at him expecting an answer to her question which only came after he finished his song.
" I am performing in the opera house tonight and I wanted you to watch. "
She regarded him in disbelief as he spoke those words, wondering just what kind of a performance could he possibly offer at an opera house. Whatever it was, she was sure it'd be unlike any other she has ever witnessed.
" It is the least I can do to return the favour. Aside from that though, I want you to know I'm sorry. I said a few cruel things to you back at the gallery that I didn't mean. It was wrong of me to judge you and call you a murderer without being a witness of your work. I hope you accept my apology. "
His facial expressions were well hidden behind his mask but Arwen could make out the spark forming in his eyes at the sound of her words.
" There is no need to apologise. For one, I am glad you are beginning to see the truth in everything around you. Nothing has changed since then. You are still the same person, the same artist. It is not what you are that held you back. It is what you thought you are not, Miss Arwen. "
There was truth in his words, that she knew. Nothing has changed, indeed. The only thing that differed to the better was her view on various forms of art. Jhin knew that too so her next question did not surprise him.
" Jhin, have you ever used any other form of art to create? "
Silence filled the air once again. He took a few steps further staring at the full moon and the symphony of shining little stars above him.
" A true masterpiece could never be created by just one kind of art. It takes more than that. What you witnessed today was a making of a masterpiece. The gun was my paintbrush and those uncivilised men were my canvas. Their pleas were a melody and each bullet is a song. Because when you draw, you have to close your eyes and sing. Only then you can achieve...perfection. "
Blinding white lights moved towards them and back up to the sky, indicating they have reached their destination.
" Ah, here we are! Can I escort you inside Miss Arwen? " he said offering his arm to her. She hesitantly accepted letting him lead her further inside the luxurious building. After they climbed a considerable amount of stairs, they found themselves standing in front of a well craved wooden entrance. She took one step closer and reached for the threshold. Before she could complete the action though, his rough yet warm hand halted her actions. She looked at him in confusion, a look which he returned with a motion of his hand that gestured her to wait.
" Here, wear this. For 'atmosphere' purposes. "
Atmosphere purposes. Of course, how could she forget? It was his performance after all, it had to be perfect in every sector and every aspect of it. She looked at the object he held in his hands admiring its delicate and sophisticated design. Before her Jhin was presenting her an ebony black mask with major silver details, the shape of it seeming to cover just the area around her eyes.
" Will you help me put it on? "
He wouldn't even lie, her request completely took him by surprise. It was like every small trace of fear and disgust she had for him was completely gone. It was hard to believe that someone was actually treating him as an artist; as a human being. He did not let his head rest on this thought for long though. She could be fooling him after all. Maybe the only reason she followed him was because she was still scared of him. Scared of what he could do to her. But then again, now it was not the time for him to bother his mind with such riddles. His show was about to start soon and he wouldn't miss it.
" Turn around. " he said and she complied. He moved her hair to the side, placing the mask in front of her eyes and tying it securely on the back of her head using her hair to hide the black knot. It was only when his hot breath accidentally tickled her neck that she realised how close she actually was to him. She made a huge effort on keeping her composure as he was finishing adjusting the mask correctly on her face.
" Perfect. Now that you are ready follow me. "
She nodded walking straight behind him as he opened the door that led them to the amphitheater. She examined her surroundings, noticing she was on a first class booth of seats, the whole stage laying in front of her. Hundreds of people were occupying the room along with the orchestra and the actors up on the stage, every spotlight on them as the show was about to start.
A sorrowful yet beautiful melody reached her ears when the orchestra started playing the first notes of the song. She got absorbed by the soothing feeling the music and the place granted her. Her curiosity got the best of her and she turned her head to face her company who only acknowledged her actions with a nod.
" Jhin, this is your show isn't it? Why aren't you on stage? "
He finally met her gaze after this statement. She was starting to get the point, wasn't she?
" It is not the time yet. Be patient and enjoy the opening act. "
Opening act? What did he mean by that? If this was indeed an opening act, it was very well executed.
The final notes of the song were playing in the piano, indicating the end of the performance was near. Just then, she noticed Jhin standing up from his seat and pulling the trigger of his gun. She raised her brows in question to which he shook his head almost too enthusiastically in response.
" Enjoy the show. " he said before pulling the trigger to release a bullet that bounced on four targets before creating a massive explosion which resulted to each and every person in the room turning into golden ashes and fully bloomed flowers, creating a breathtaking scenery similar to a garden of crimson red roses. She found herself being more engrossed by the enchanting beauty of the scenery than the fact that the man beside her has just taken hundreds of lives all in once.
"Beautiful. " she whispered, still not accustomed with the way his performance made her feel.
" What did you say? "
Her attention was back to him the moment she heard faint hints of surprise in his voice.
" That...that was beautiful, Jhin. Enchanting performance. "
He bowed deeply before her after hearing her words, placing his gun back to his hip.
" It was a pleasure to perform this act for such an audience. Your praise is well appreciated. Have a good night Miss Arwen. " he said as he turned to leave.
"Jhin? "
"Yes?"
"Just call me Arwen. "
The gallery has never been so crowded. It was crazy how one painting could get the attention of so many people.
Controversial, disputatious, avant garde, evocative. Those were only half of the adjectives people used to describe her work. She would hear none of it though once she knew that this was what represented her the most. Many people would give her their congratulations as they left. Others wouldn't say a thing.
When the gallery was finally empty, she let out a loud sigh, closing the doors behind her. She glanced at the painting a small smile appearing on her lips. Her eyes travelled to the landscape of the picture staying on the woman taking up most of her canvas. She admired the way she was lying impassible on a floor full of red roses. Her skin was pale like tonight's full moon and her mouth agape, smoke emitting from it. A bullet has penetrated the vital parts on her neck, creating a pool of blood bathing her hair and skin. Finally, she looked at the title written below the painting in a sophisticated font. " The Mind of a Virtuoso" it read. A content sigh escaped her lips as she turned around heading to her office. Before she took a step further, a tall slim figure emerged from the shadows applauding her work.
"Excuse me sir, we have closed. "
He responded with an almost mocking laugh walking closer to her and making himself fully visible. She furrowed her brows half confused half surprised at his presence. Eventually, she smiled at him bowing her head to greet him. He returned the gesture averting his gaze from her and setting it on the painting.
" You meant it. "
Once again, she was confused by his statement and regarded him with a questioning look gesturing him to explain.
" When you said my art was beautiful; you meant it. "
She smiled nodding in response.
" Yes, I did. "
He let the comforting veil of silence fall between them as they both stared at the painting. His grand masterpiece could wait a little bit longer. For this was not the end, but only the beginning. This once, he had found an audience worthy of his art. Someone who knew. Someone who admired. Someone who understood.
Author's Note Vol 2: Aye! Hope you enjoyed this story. :D Yes my OC is inspired by Arwen from LOTR because I'm a huge geek and all that. Please RFF, it would mean a lot. I was actually very insecure about this story and honest opinions would be appreciated!
Till next time,
Layla