Can't be bothered to use a lamp, so I'm sitting in front of the big hearth in the lobby. Not wanting to appear as if hogging the space, I abstained from planting myself here for as long as I can remember. But I have to take care of myself now. Just take up a few habits to keep my mind focused.

Need to stay alive and warm. For her, if no one else. Last week's trip to Ionia did nothing less than substantiate my entire life's purpose.

I came home and immediately went back to work filling out legal papers.

The day after that, I helped Lucid lift some furniture into his office next-door.

For the rest of the week I assisted with the Preseason Qualifiers as a referee.

Fun week. But the trip before was a nice break.

Everyone looked up that night. To every eye that did, it was a clear sky. The vertigo was stronger than ale, intoxicating and invigorating. While the Institute celebrated the Lunar Revel on the mainland, dozens of summoners like me made the long trip to Ionia to immerse ourselves in an authentic experience. We flew out to the coast by airship, and then hopped on a commerce vessel to cross the sea. A tailwind backed us the entire journey, cutting travel time by nearly half, turning a week long voyage into a short three day sail. Out on the ocean the stars envelope your being. I climbed up the mast and saw them all close in. I should have jumped to catch one at random, ask it to speak to me in the absence of its friends. What would happen if I had taken it along with me to Ionia? We could have sat under the full moon and basked under its light so we could experience some spiritual fullness ourselves. Then I would release the star; let it join all the others in the night sky while it shines brighter than it did before. Perhaps that one star would ignite other stars nearby and begin a chain reaction, so that one could see the entire population of stars glowing each as its own moon. They might have aspired to shine with the sun so that sailors could navigate even during the day. Those lost and world-weary could always find their bearings when blinded by a searing truth.

Stepping off the boat, I was dealing with a few searing truths beaming down onto my shoulders like a wet cloak.

The Serene Gardens is a sprawling complex of carefully pruned bushes, gnarling trees, contemplative stonework, and the most admirable wooden architecture I've ever seen. Every piece beckons you to examine its narrow intricacies through a spyglass as they isolate your awareness and suck you in for hours. The snow reflected the red hue of the lamps hung all around so that the ground took on the color of old parchment. On the edge of the gardens were vendors selling food, antique weapons and enchanted novelty toys. But the real magic worth minding was staring down at us from the sky above. The moon shone through the branches of the Great Tree, a gigantic cherry blossom tree whose bare branches were lit up by lanterns. Examining it up close, Lucid and our party walked with me as both of us shuffled through a large crowd around the tree. It sat in the center of an open circle, next to a low red building which hosted a stage. Constant performances were lighting up the night more than the lanterns. Right when the moon's arc was to cross directly over the tree, there would be a finale, presented by a special guest. Sona is arguably the face of the Lunar Revel with her traditional red dress and natural brown hair. She was half the reason I sailed to Ionia, the other half being the snow.

I went with Lucid, his daughter, and two other families whom I knew well. All twelve individuals had extended family in Ionia.

We encountered a big cast iron bell in the gardens, or it encountered us. It was stout and cylindrical, housed under an ominous wooden roof. A myriad of small studs protruded from its surface. Even in the still winter air I could feel it vibrating eerily. I knew this bell to be haunted by benevolent spirits. But what had not occurred to me is that, firstly, a catastrophic war had taken place in Ionia less than two years ago, corrupting said spirit with hate and anger and, secondly, there was a posted sign warning visitors of the previously stated fact on the shrine's entrance.

Being the inquisitive fool I am, I tapped a fist on it. A deep and resounding ring bashed my head, retaliating against my idle tampering, with a savage blow to the temples. And that is when I collapsed.

The Serene Garden is not a bad place to fall asleep in. However, going into a short blackout does not feel good anywhere. And the cold bit me harder than an angry Knocked out by the ring of a bell! This should be funny in retrospect, and in a crude sense of slapstick it is.

I had a nightmare then.

It took place in the Demacian concert hall where I first saw Sona. I was sitting in the frontmost seat. Everything was darkened by something more powerful than an absence of light. The place was afflicted with an overbearing dull red toxicity. Onstage was Mordekaiser, his glowing red eyes and noble stance pinning me down with fear. Resting atop his shoulder was the gigantic metal mace inseparable from his iron body. His voice came out slow and with a great deal of bellowing sadism.

"Suffer, then die."

Without my knowing, Singed was next to me the entire time. He laid a hand on my chest as a syringe sunk into my arm. I started to convulse violently, my skin began to burn.

"You will not take him from me." Singed snarled in response to the intimidating Mordekaiser behind him. "This world must be silenced! We must fill their lungs so they will cease their absurd screaming! I want quiet, and this man will bring it upon the whole world!"

Mordekaiser quickly raised his free hand. A metal mace like the one he wielded rose up from the ground and smashed into Singed from under his legs. The chemist let go of the syringe as he was engulfed in metal shards. He wailed in agony while writhing on the ground. In the same tone as before, Mordekaiser repeated hauntingly to me "You will suffer, then die." A sanguine red fog enveloped my head and my eyes rolled back in pain. "You will suffer, then die…" As he trailed off, my vision blackened. Slowly the pain died out, so thoroughly that the only sense of physical self left was in my hearing. It was that ringing you get in your ears when the brain has nothing to listen to.

The melody was slow to come. It was mournful, simple and unadorned. The notes tell you not to weep, but just wait and look on. I felt like I was being lifted out of a hole as the song only lasted for about a minute. When it ended, Mordekaiser finished his last statement. "Die…" Suddenly I was thrust upward into a chilling wind.

"And be reborn."

I woke up laying on a small wooden couch inside a dimly lit cabin. Tools were neatly hung on pegs and laid out over a single small workbench. A lamp glowed over a rake and a sickle. The spade smelled of old dirt and rust. I had just been born in the egg of, perhaps, an earthworm or a wasp. I lay under a window the size of a portrait frame. Outside, night blanketed the sky, and the stars were visible. I got up on my feet and felt the ground beneath me. I felt the earth spin on its axis for a moment before finding a door.

Stumbling out the door with as much dignity as could be mustered, I noticed I was still in the gardens. Red maple hung over us like a second sky. Lucid, kneeling over me, grabbed my hand and checked my pulse. He stared at me with a worried frown on his face, then turned to a man behind him and said something. Together they helped me up on my feet as another pair of hands dusted off the snow on my back. I looked to my left and saw a bun vendor hoisting my arm over his shoulder. In front of me was Lucid's daughter, the two other families, and a few robed mystics looking on.

These four bearded old men have seen their fair share of possessions recently. During and after the Noxian invasion, cases like mine spiked in frequency. Mystics dispel ghosts from the mind and body using magic very similar to summoning. Many of this profession, in fact, take summoning as a side job.

The vendor smiled when I looked at him as he asked "How much did you drink? The alcohol is pretty strong here, too much to handle for most tourists."

In a half dazed state I asked how long I was out. Lucid spoke. "For a while. Maybe three hours. We couldn't wake you up at all, so we hauled you out here to see if the fresh air would help."

He continued on to describe how I began to shake violently some time afterwards. I exhibited no sign of physical illness (one of our party was a doctor), so it was deduced that I was under spiritual possession. For a time I rested in the groundskeeper's shed.

Three hours I was under. That killed me. We missed Sona's performance! The trip was ruined! And I have to bring back that horrible nightmare to! I felt weak. My head was cloudy and empty of judgement. I couldn't be sad or angry or even disappointed. Lucid told me I had someone looking for me. Instinctively, I turned my head around.

Sona stood there smiling, her red robe speckled with white snow. The etwahl floated before her as she laid both her hands on it. Our eyes were locked. It's that intimate stare which most people try to avoid. It clobbered my chest and knocked the breath out of my lungs. This subtle expression is a hook. One can cast it out into the sea and hope for a bite. A smile in response. She caught all of Ionia together that night.

Not since the first time I met her in person did I ever hear her voice. So when she spoke to me in that untainted sound of hers I listened intently. Her mouth did not move.

"I felt the pain you were going through, yet you were silent inside."

Everyone looked around to discern who she was looking at. They were disenfranchised.

"Don't be afraid to speak, for you are not alone. You must express your love to others. Speak through the ones around you like you did through me."

By now, all eyes were on me.

"With no pride to shelter you, with no anger to raise your voice, no fear of failure or rejection to stop you. Nothing else, not I, not them, no magic in this world will ever own you again. And I am here to walk beside you toward success. Are you ready?"

I stepped forward. I had so many things to say, yet no words that I could ever conjure up to do it. So instead of offering a thank you or some profound something to tie our exchange together, I cried silently. I cried for thrusting myself into a sea of defeatist talk, going out into the storm with only a parting wave to my friends before I nearly sunk into despair. I cried for all the stars I dropped and let die in the distant past. I cried for the people who yell at everything, drowning out every conceivable form of voice that could calm them. I cried because I couldn't do anything about it.

Words did come to mind. I put them forth, as best I could through a trembling throat. "I don't know, Sona. I don't know if I can! Why me? Why pursue me? You're insane...you're misguided...you're...so beautiful."

Drained of strength, I fell into Sona's arms. Her hands embraced my head, and I felt her pulse again through her chest. The etwahl floated beside us and plucked out a tune. It was the same one from my dream, picked out of my brain by Sona's delicate hands, and it repeated for a long while. Gradually I regained my senses.

I slowly looked back up to her eyes again with my own pitiful face, lined with tears. This was supposed to be a professional relationship? Romance like this is mundane to her, I hope. Many summoners need this. Lots of champions in the League can do what Sona did for me. But am I deserving of it?

People sighed tenderly. Someone started asking around who this summoner was.

Over the commotion, I suggested we should all enjoy the full moon that night before it's gone. Turns out we had the best view of it right where we were, so we all sat down and bathed in the pale light.

We were free to say whatever we wanted. I could have tried to coax Sona to speak again so that everyone else could hear. There was so much more I should have asked. But the crowd on the snow was already openly content.

News of this event, I think, has been slow to circulate around Valoran. I am thankful for the respite.