Act I - Chapter 2
The Ionian sun shone brightly that day in the gardens of the Placidium, in direct contrast to Irelia who was about as sunny as a winter storm.
"I'm beginning to have second thoughts about our decision, Duchess," she remarked as she walked alongside the Enlightened One, "a month has passed and the Golden Demon has done nothing in his imprisonment."
Karma raised an eyebrow as she caught a cherry blossom in her hand. It was one of the first to bloom this season, and there will be more in the months ahead.
"I would have believed that a comforting thought, Irelia," the Duchess remarked, "would you rather have Khada Jhin out 'performing'?"
The Blade Dancer blanched, sickened by the thought.
"Of course not. I simply find it too good to be true that he's being quiet after everything! After the League! I would have thought that his ego alone would not allow himself to be confined. If anything, his compulsion should have grown during his time there!"
Karma smiled and laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. Even back then, Irelia was staunchly against the self-proclaimed Virtuoso's inclusion among the League champions of Ionia.
"Peace my young friend. I do not take the matter of Khada Jhin lightly, I assure you."
"But the rumors, my lady..."
"That I am one of the cabal that allowed the Golden Demon to be set loose in the first place?"
Irelia admitted in shame, "Yes, my lady..."
"Look at me," Karma asked blankly.
Irelia followed and looked at the Duchess of Ionia in the face.
"Do you see someone who would allow that creature to kill for personal gain?"
"No, Duchess." Irelia replied in truth.
Karma smiled again at the young woman. How she admired her honest valor.
"You have the truth of it, Irelia," Karma said, "I am not part of that loathsome group, but I will not deny that someone allowed his release."
"Duchess?"
"Ghosts and shadows move among us, my dear," Karma whispered as she let the cherry blossom drift away in the wind, "in that light, sometimes we must keep the truth from those whom we trust."
"What are you telling me, Duchess?"
Karma looked at Irelia, this time with a serious note in her eyes.
"I am telling you now that I do not know, Irelia. I do not know all that transpires. I never did. Try as I might with all the power I have at my hands. I do not know who in our Ruling Council allowed Khada Jhin to run amok after Lord Kusho defeated him. I could not demand for his head, for that would undermine the balance...I am no Lord Kusho, whose skill and counsel I would have greatly appreciated. My only choice was to propose that the Golden Demon be allowed a position in the one place he could not truly kill."
"It was you?"
"I know enough about killers, young one. More than you do," the Duchess replied sadly, "there are those who want naught but to see the rivers run red and the very earth burn. We cannot hope to change them, but there are ways to control them."
She saw in her mind's eye the grotesque panorama that the Golden Demon had created one fateful night many years ago—a depraved ode to her for allowing him to pursue his heart's desire as a Champion of the League.
"Ionia was in shambles after our conflicts with Noxus and our countrymen were being gruesomely slaughtered by a perverse lunatic. Worse, this was a madman who was somehow released from one of our mightiest prisons and suddenly had access to some of our nation's deadliest weapons. How could the Ionian people trust us then? We could not even trust ourselves...The air was rife with suspicion and whispers of rebellion were all but certain."
Karma shook her head in woe.
"You are a superb warrior, Irelia, but you are no politician. I do not expect you to understand. I had to act. If I failed, it would mean civil war and the deaths of countless millions more in addition to the struggle of capturing a particularly elusive mass murderer. At first I tried to investigate who was pulling the strings that led to Khada Jhin's freedom, but my leads were all cold. I was running in circles. Not even Shen or Soraka could divine who or what was behind all this."
The Duchess allowed herself to sit down on a bench, seemingly exhausted.
The Blade Dancer bowed in apology, "Forgive me, O Enlightened One. For my insolence..."
Karma smiled again, "Yours is not insolence, child. Ionia would be better off with souls as pure as yours. Come, sit with me."
The Duchess shot a careful glance around her, before whispering to her companion who had just made herself comfortable on the same bench.
"There are ears and eyes everywhere, child. Yes, even here in the Placidium. All I have are suspicions...what I will tell you now is something only two others know. These are words that must never leave this place."
The Duchess leaned closer to the young warrior.
"Not until the right time."
Jhin hummed to himself as he painted.
One. Two. Three. Four.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Let it not be said that he was a man whose only talent was murder.
There are other arts...and my true calling can wait a while longer.
Soon enough, the regular brushstrokes in series of four produced a beautiful representation of the cherry trees outside his cell.
Soon they will bloom and soon shall I.
His cell was littered with countless pieces of art—paintings, sculptures, crafts, poetry and music. Only his meticulously crafted bullets, grenades and traps were denied access to him, taken immediately by his wardens upon creation.
It was all he could do without losing himself to madness in his incarceration.
One. Two. Three. Four.
He needed to express himself through art and he thanked every god he knew of that Ionia was remarkably humane when it came to its prisons.
One. Two. Three. Four.
A complete month had passed and even his caretaker-wardens, the monks of Tuula, seemed to relax around him.
It wasn't surprising if he had to be honest.
After all, he had proven himself a worthy student to them even during the time of his first capture, hungry for more knowledge.
It was all the same now, and he relished again in learning various disciplines. It irritated him though that even after all those years, they still attempted to stamp out his fascination with death.
They might as well have taken his beating heart from his chest and been done with it.
It was a part of who he was and he revelled in that simple reality.
It was what made him the artist he was. The genius he was destined to be.
What fools...what fools that they do not see!
But he played his part to perfection as only the greatest of actors could.
Soon.
One night, exactly two months after his return, he awoke to the sound of his cell's door being unlocked.
He smiled knowing that long-laid plans and a particularly risky wager were finally being set in motion.
And just in time...any longer and I would have gone raving mad.
Jhin got up from his bed and stretched the kinks from his muscles.
He was becoming giddy for the show was about to begin.
It is going to be a glorious night.