We're back at the Institute again, and I am slinking off the tail end of the second to last Snowdown party. The night is cold, and all the guests have long since retired. I am one of a suprisingly large majority of summoners here without a family to return to for the holiday. With all of us, the champions, and the local populace up in reverie, the party here is no half-assed affair.
Tiredness, I plead you leave me. I can barely write after all of today's festivity. Lucid, the summoner turned musician from earlier, just came into my room with two mugs of cocoa. It's a strange thing. We're all coffee drinkers here at the Institute. It was a tough change from tea to coffee, but I've taken it in stride. Let's see if I latch on to liking cocoa as well.
I will see to it that I gather a hoard of this stuff for the coming months. It feels great to talk again. A bad strain of muteness had afflicted me since we came back. I don't recall eating anything suspicious, so the problem must have been mental. Fatigue must be the culprit, for I refuse to believe the notion that I simply chose not to talk for so long.
Definitely not possible.
For now, I recall my homecoming from Demacia.
Us four summoners touched down at the Institute just in time for the Snowdown. The fatigue of the shenanigans from earlier weighed me down so much I could have sworn the airship was struggling to stay afloat in the snow laden air. We were yanked off the craft and thrust into the holiday spirit with great haste. The Snowdown was to reach its climax in six days, and some work had to be done clearing snow and setting the scene for it. Every year without a rune war on our hands is worth celebrating. Today arrived very quickly, the penultimate party to the big one tomorrow.
From the grounds outside, the action moved into our auditorium. It was more of the standard Snowdown fare, save for Sona's gig. Being audience to Sona in the Institute of War is a big deal. As a musician first and foremost her visits to the Institute are sporadic and infrequent. There was much fanfare on her arrival, and rumors of a performance were spread around the building some time before. I watched among a large crowd as she glided through the main entrance in a distinctively festive and homely red cloak. Duchess Karma and Swain were present for a small welcoming ceremony before returning to their routine of exchanging cordial nothings and steely glares amongst eachother.
By that point I had not recovered my speech. Among the whirring noise of conversation and reverie, the alienating effect of muteness was most uncomfortable. Especially with such personalities like the champions and celebrity summoners dominating the scene I felt passed over like furniture. Perhaps if I ran around flinging tables over my head I could have started a pleasant conversation with someone while holding back fits of maniacal laughter.
Terrible idea. I do enough of that on Summoner's Rift. Here I would have ended up in a straight jacket. Trade one set of shackles for another.
When Sona got on the stage at the end of the entrance hall, everything slowed to a stop. I was so elated my heart skipped a beat (followed by an aching chest pain-don't eat too much during the holidays!) We recognized the song as a familiar Wintersday tune. "The glitter of snow" is a Freljordian love song known by most of Valoran. It's sad, slow and romantic. The melody is full of a folk spirit that characterizes the solitary Freljord very well. It goes something like this:
In the night is a chill that cuts deep through my skin as I call for a sign of love that burns within.
Now the earth spins a death that no lover should know, time goes on, and my love is lost to the storm.
Climbing high on a mountaintop, in time to see the sun. Left behind is a world where my words failed to show my heart.
This voice will cry in pain as I stand grasping for your hand. But no sound will heal my hidden wounds deep inside.
And now, while I gaze at the snow, I see your eyes twinkling brighter than stars. I'm yearning for warmth.
Where, where on this callous earth is your embrace? How can I tell you I love you?
About halfway through the audience began to sing along. I can't remember if I did so as well, as my voice could have very well come back to me thanks to the Maven. What I do remember distinctly, if anything was to become ingrained into my memory of that evening, was a single tear on Sona's smiling face. In a sort of irony, have we provided her with a voice with which she could speak to us? And did I fall right in with the rest? Or is it just me getting used to singing again? People tell me I have a nice voice.
The song ends, we're done partying, and everyone retired to their offices for a short nap before we start again. This time I couldn't catch up with her, and a part of me is thankful for that. What would there be to say? She's more than likely busy, and I am more than likely tired to the bone. Enough writing. I've a coming interview with Sona, and whatever needs to be said will be expelled so thence.