Chapter: Ionia| 1
Feeling returns slow and heavy. I'm so tired. Is this what it's like... to die? Incredible warmth surrounds me. All I want is to sleep. I feel weightless, floating among clouds. Maybe if I just... close my eyes...
"Wake up..." A voice calls to me. The words, the vibrations, feel soothing, as if I've heard them too many times. I almost want to cry. But why?
"It's time... Open your eyes." The voice continues, but I want to stay here. Hands tug at me, pull me to my feet, and my eyes snap open. Warm light bathes me. Where am I?
"There you are. You need to remember." It tells me.
"Re...member?"
"Remember. You need to... Save Runeterra..." The voice surrounds me. Each word wakes me further. Remember. Save. Wake up. I need to sleep. A pair of the softest hands embrace my cheeks. Someone places their forehead on my own.
"Please... save him... save everyone..." The voice feels familiar. I want to cry. I don't want to let go. But she does. And when she does, I fall. The light recedes. All I feel is a pulse. A heartbeat. Slow at first, coming back to life. Then the darkness evaporates and I...
Sunlight spears through a canopy of leaves, painting my eyelids with a fiery glow. Groaning, I pry them open, squinting against the dappled brilliance. The air hums with life – the rustling of unseen creatures, the melodic chirp of unfamiliar birds, and beneath it all, a low thrum that resonates in my bones.
I push myself onto trembling hands. The ground is a tapestry of moss and tangled roots, soft yet uneven. Enormous trees pierce the sky, their leaves like enormous jade palms. The air hangs thick with moisture and a dizzying floral fragrance... sweet, almost overpowering. It stirs a memory, fleeting and fragmented, like a half-forgotten dream.
A splash of color cuts through the verdant green. Petals like spun gold shimmer amidst the leaves. A strange, bulbous flower, its heart glowing with an ethereal light. As I reach closer, a thorny tendril snakes out, snapping close to my fingers. Hissing, I recoil, my heart pounding.
The forest floor shifts beneath me. Shadows ripple, stretching across the sunlit patches in unnatural ways. A figure emerges from the gloom, a man clad in simple leathers. He treads lightly, his movements fluid and silent, as if he is one with the rustling leaves.
His eyes, sharp and watchful, fix on me. He was strong, but not imposing. He does not speak, nor does his expression change, but within those dark eyes, I sense a flicker of recognition… and something else. Apprehension? Curiosity?
The man continues his silent vigil, his dark eyes never leaving me. With each unsteady attempt to stand, I feel those eyes upon me, scrutinizing... judging? A flicker of panic stirs within me. Who is he? What does he want?
Suddenly, a blur of movement catches my eye. A small stone arcs through the air, aimed directly at my feet. Instinctively I recoil, scrambling back with a startled cry. Silence falls again. Did he... throw that?
Slowly, I rise, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The man remains motionless, his expression as unreadable as the forest itself. A strange thought crosses my mind – he's waiting. Testing. But for what?
Every fiber of my being screams at me to run, to hide from his watchful gaze. Yet, something else compels me, a curiosity mixed with a desperate need for answers. My legs feel wobbly, but I take a hesitant step forward, then another.
He remains motionless as I approach, his scrutiny unwavering. Within me, a sense of determination begins to grow. With each faltering step, fragments of memory flicker through my mind – flashes of light, a sense of overwhelming power, and a fear that echoes deep within my core.
As I draw closer, ready to demand answers, a flicker of something passes across his face. It's subtle, easily missed, but I see it: A faint nod, the barest hint of acknowledgment.
Then, without a word, he turns and melts back into the shadows of the forest, leaving me alone at the sun-dappled clearing. A path reveals itself where moments ago there was only dense undergrowth. A path I feel inexplicably drawn to follow. I step forward cautiously, hoping this man doesn't try to toss more rocks my way.
"Hey! Wait!" I call out. Silence answers. A rush of frustration floods through me. Why is he being so cryptic? My fingers curl into tight fists. "Who are you?!" I scream out. Oh... I just made myself light headed.
"Volume doesn't bring answers." I hear behind me. I let out a curse, my heart wanting to burst. I turn to find the man had somehow gotten behind me. Up close, I notice details I missed before – a faded scar across his brow, the weathered leather of his simple clothes hinting at a life lived in action. Despite his unassuming appearance, there's something in his posture, in the steady gaze of his dark eyes, that speaks of hidden power. I straighten myself and try to slow my heart rate.
"Wh-who are you?" I asked him. He only stares back, silent. His eyes narrow ever so slightly. The forest is silent.
"Who are you?" he asks, his voice low. His question catches me off guard. His voice put an emphasis on 'you'. Me? I'm... I...
"I... don't remember." My shoulders slump. "I... have no memories."
"No memories?" he asks, his voice low. He steps forward, his gaze piercing. I step back. A sudden gust of wind swirls through the clearing, scattering golden leaves around us.
"No, I don't remember anything." It felt strange to say. I try my hardest to remember anything at all. But not one thing surfaced. The surrounding area felt familiar yet so alien. The plants, the trees, the sounds. It's as if he knows more about me than I do myself.
"Ionia." he answers my unasked question. "You're in Ionia." My head spins. The word Ionia felt important. But still, no memories.
"Io... nia." I repeat, testing the word on my lips. A peculiar scar snakes from beneath his left sleeve – jagged, like it was made by a claw. I thought maybe saying it would feel familiar. Maybe I've said it all my life. But the word was foreign. My lips and tongue were unpracticed with it.
The man studies me for several heartbeats longer, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, without a word, he turns and walks deeper into the forest. He pauses at the edge of a clearing, then again beside a moss-covered boulder, as though carefully considering his path. Confusion gnaws at me. Does he intend for me to follow? Or is this another test?
With a surge of determination, I stumble after him. "Hey! Wait!" My voice cracks, unused to shouting through the thick forest air. He doesn't turn, but I sense his awareness of my every move, every hesitation.
Finally, at the edge of a tangle of twisted roots, he halts. His gaze meets mine, unwavering.
"Follow." The word barely carries above the rustle of leaves, but its impact resonates within me.
It's a command, not a suggestion. My legs move before my mind fully catches up, following the path he carves through the undergrowth. The air changes - warmer, carrying a hint of woodsmoke and something sweeter, like ripe fruit. As we walk, a strange sense of familiarity tugs at me. The sunlight dappling through the leaves, the scent of damp earth... it feels like something half-remembered, a place I've known in another life.
Ahead, a break appears in the trees. My gaze sweeps across a vibrant scene: a village nestled amidst rice paddies, alive with the sounds of laughter and the clatter of wooden tools. This was Ionia – a beautiful blend of nature and humanity. A stone path cuts through the rice paddies, lined by wooden buildings with thatched roofs. The villagers wear simple clothing, their faces weathered from a life working the land. And yet, there's a sense of connection and harmony permeating the scene, as though the people and the land were one.
"Welcome." a man said to me. His voice was gentle, but the word carried an undercurrent of meaning, as if he meant to convey much more. Another greeting, then another. I smiled. I felt less lost suddenly. And then suddenly I bumped into a boulder. I fall backwards with a nice thud and 'oof'. After rubbing my face, I look up to see the man had stopped, waiting for me. He then turns with a subtle nod, leading me toward a cluster of stalls lining the stone path. The scents of spices and grilled fish mingle with the warm air, creating a comforting atmosphere in contrast to the mysteries of the forest.
He stops before a vendor laden with colorful fabrics and sturdy leather goods. His fingers alight on a simple waterskin, a worn map, and a pouch of what smells like dried fruit and nuts. He exchanges a few quiet words and coins with the vendor, a woman whose smile lines speak of years lived in this gentle land.
Hesitantly, I step closer. "Are we... are we staying here?" Confusion and a flicker of hope war in my voice.
He turns, offering me the provisions. "The Placidium awaits." His tone brooks no argument.
Disappointment washes over me, but as I reach for the supplies, I notice a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Concern? Or is it simply a reflection of the setting sun? I open my mouth to question him, but he's already turned away, continuing down the path. I take this moment to admire the village. From the architecture to the lush greenery, everything felt welcoming, harmonious.
The villagers greet us with friendly smiles, their eyes sparkling with curiosity. As we pass, whispered conversations dance on the breeze. They looked to the man, some faces with admiration and others in fear. Did they know who he was? Was he famous? We continued on until we had reached the other side of the village. I stopped.
"This silence is filling me with more dread than anything else! Who are you and what is the Placidium? Why are you so cryptic?" My voice rises with each question.
"Who I am is irrelevant. The Placidium will help you." he replied.
"None of my concern? You dragged me from the forest!" A wave of frustration crashed over me. "I... I..." I try to formulate something to say, but I'm blank. He can tell the frustration he caused me, because he finally spoke more than several words.
"Your memories. Would you like to know who you are?" He asked. Of course I do! I mean... yes. I do want to know. Everything was new, but it didn't feel overwhelming. I'm familiar with this place. Somewhere here was a family looking for me. Loves ones who knew me since I was a child. I was sure of it.
"Yes. Yes I would."
"Very well. Follow me." With that, he continues down the dirt road, leaving me to wrestle with my apprehension and this sliver of hope. My stomach twists with apprehension. What if my memories were horrible? What if I was an exile or criminal? What if I was a child to terrible parents who made me clean all the time?... What if I don't like who I was? What if I'm...dangerous? No. The time for second guessing myself was before I decided to explode on this stranger.
We leave the vibrant village behind, its warmth swallowed by the lengthening shadows. The dirt path carves its way through rolling hills dotted with wildflowers. Their vibrant hues, names unknown to me, shimmer in the fading sunlight like scattered jewels. The air hums with the rhythmic chirps of unseen insects, and a bird with feathers like shimmering jade flashes through the trees. Apprehension gnaws at me, but so does a strange thrill of discovery.
As we walk, the landscape transforms. Rice paddies shimmer in the distance, reflecting the fiery hues of the setting sun. Farmers, their movements as fluid as the wind swaying their crops, chant a rhythmic song of gratitude for the day's harvest. The scent of wet earth and ripe grain fills the air, a sharp contrast to the decaying leaves of the forest.
A weathered stone shrine stands beside the path, festooned with vibrant ribbons and offerings of fruit and incense. The man pauses, his gaze lingering on the weathered carvings depicting figures with flowing robes and outstretched hands.
"A shrine to the spirits," he murmurs, his voice almost lost in the evening breeze. "Those who seek balance offer prayers here." His words are cryptic as ever, yet they stir something within me.
The path winds upward, revealing a breathtaking vista. Below, a river snakes through the valley, its waters gleaming like molten silver. On a distant hilltop, a sprawling structure rises amidst a grove of ancient trees – imposing, yet somehow inviting. Its sloped roofs and intricate carvings seem at once familiar and strange, stirring a jumble of emotions within me.
"The Placidium," He states, his voice laced with an undercurrent of what sounds like reverence Is this the place that holds the key to my forgotten past? As the last rays of sunlight fade, I take a hesitant step forward. This place was completely different from the villages we had passed. This Placidium seemed grand and prestigious. It must've held knowledge beyond my understanding. The man follows close behind, his gaze watchful and unreadable.
As I approach the gates, the enormity of the building looms over me, the weight of its history seeming to press on my shoulders. A towering archway marks the entrance, carved with elegant characters that dance across my vision. The Placidium seemed older than the shrines I have seen. It was an embodiment of Ionian culture, steeped in tradition. The core of what Ionia was, I could see it all in this one place.
My guide, stoic as ever, strides confidently past the imposing archway. I followed, numerous amounts of people passing by. Monks, scholars, guards, all dressed similar, but unique at the same time. I was beginning to feel uneasy. I felt out of place.
"Stay close." My guide says to me.
"What exactly are we doing here?" Came my curiosity. Of course, he says nothing.
Finally we had arrived at a grand building, a pavilion surrounded by a pond, fountains, and stone lanterns casting a soft glow. It was the Placidium's main center. The interior was a sight to behold, filled with monks, scholars, and a few children. Another man who was in the middle of meditation saw us and stood to greet us.
"Ah, I see you've brought another lost lamb. Welcome, young one." I can sense an air of importance from him. Like everyone else, he wore a robe decorated with symbols of Ionia. Symbols I did not recognize, and symbols that were familiar to me. He bowed and I bowed nervously in return.
"He has lost his memories. Perhaps you can help, Tenzin." My guide spoke. So his name was Tenzin.
"Has he, now? Come, sit. Mediate. Let us search for them." He replied, gesturing towards a space near him. "Will you be staying? It has been the while since you've been around these parts." He asked my guide. Somehow, I'd miss him. He found in the middle of nowhere and brought me here. We had only known each other for several hours, but he chose to help me.
"I cannot. There are other matters I must attend to. Take care, Brother Tenzin." The man bowed.
"Wait..!" I didn't even have a chance to thank him. Before I could, he was gone. Tenzin gestured towards the spot again and I sat down. The room was quiet, aside from the fountain.
"Who was he? He never told me his name." I wanted to know who he was. Why take me all the way here to not tell me his name?
"He didn't tell you? Then it is for a reason. Now. Focus. Mediate. Search the depths of your mind. Find yourself." Tenzin answered.
Find myself. How would I do that? If I remembered, then I would. It was a simple task. But meditating to find something I couldn't even find in the first place, gave me a headache. Tenzin watched me intently. His gaze pierced my soul, his patience reminding me of the man who had brought me here.
I mediated. Over and over, searching the depths of my mind. Who am I? Please. Anything. I want to know who I am. I want to remember the people who loved me. I want to remember the home that was waiting for me. Anything. Give me memories. My efforts yielded nothing. The longer I mediated, the more frustrated I became.
"I can't." I said, defeated. Tenzin placed a hand on my shoulder and shook his head.
"Memories as important as these aren't something you search for. They come back to you on their own. I urge you, don't search. Sit. Breathe. Wait. I promise, something will come."
"But, Tenzin, how long does something have to come? Days? Weeks? Years?!"
"When the memories are meant to come back, they will."
"If... If I don't remember, then I'll never know who I am."
"Patience."
Patience. That was his answer. Not a day. Not an hour. Patience. I'm filled with a sense of hopelessness. But fine. I was brought here for a reason. I mind as well indulge. If I had an important event or someone waiting, I would absolutely remember. I closed my eyes and I breathed. I blocked out my thoughts and listened to the air. Deep breaths. In. Out.
Breathe.
I breathed.
In.
Out.
Patience.
Then... a flicker. A thread. It dangled gently in front of me. It was a yellow thread. Hair? I reached out to grab it. As I grabbed it, a surge of memories flooded my mind. Pain. Pain. Memories of pain. Darkness. Darkness. Screams. Darkness. Cold. Screaming. Pain. Pain. Warmth. I begin to cry. That warmth was... everything to me. A flash. Images began flashing. Faces, places, events, and feelings.
Everything.
Light.
Blinding.
Pain.
Cold.
Screaming.
Darkness.
Ravik.
That's my name. Ravik.
"AAAAHHHHHH!" My scream echoed throughout the Placidium. Tenzin was the closest to me and held me. Tears streamed down my face. I remembered! I remembered my name.
"Easy. Easy." Tenzin tried soothing. But the memories I had were painful. Those threads had strings connected to feelings. Pain. Sadness. Anger. Grief. Regret. Hate. And hopelessness. Who was I? I needed to know. More. More. Show me more.
One string is larger and brighter than the rest. It glowed the brightest. Love. Tender touches, tender embraces. That was the most important one. The warmth... It reminded me of that voice. I reached out to touch that one.
"You remembered." The voice said. I gasped. Tears threatened to spill once more. I recognized that voice.
"I... I did." I said. Tenzin releases me. He's curious. I'm crying, but I'm happy.
"My name... is Ravik." I said. I felt whole. Ravik. Yes. That's my name. That's who I was.
"Your memories are important, no?" Tenzin asks. He is curious. The way he looks at me. "What did you remember?"
I opened my mouth to speak but stopped. The crushing darkness that I felt... I didn't want to feel it again. But that light amongst the darkness kept my name shielded. Away from the corruption and the hate and the regret and the anger. It's protected.
"Just my name." I lied. Tenzin could see through that lie. But he didn't want to pry. He nodded understandingly.
"I believe that is more than acceptable. There are those who spends days, weeks, and even years trying to find something you found with patience. Allow me to offer you a place to rest and eat. And perhaps, a change of clothing. You must have been in the wilderness a long time indeed."
I looked down. Tenzin was correct. I didn't notice, but my shirt, pants, and shoes were plain. They didn't match the colors or design of what I saw amongst the people. These were dirty and stained. And it smelled. Embarrassingly.
"Thank you, Brother Tenzin." I thanked.
"Follow me, Ravik." Tenzin led me outside.
Outside, the Placidium was large. Night had fell, the stars shining brightly. My surroundings was lit with lanterns and stone statues. Tenzin led me inside a dormitory. Inside, the dormitory is simple yet inviting. Rows of neatly rolled futons line the walls, separated by woven bamboo screens for privacy. The air smells faintly of sandalwood incense, a calming presence against the surge of emotions that still courses through me.
Tenzin lights a nearby lantern, casting a warm glow across his understanding features. "Rest here," he says, his voice a gentle murmur. "When you are ready, food and fresh clothes await you in the main hall."
With a slight bow, he departs, leaving me alone with the echo of my name… Ravik. I trace the memory of the bright string, of the warmth and tenderness it evoked. Something tells me my memories hold more than that light, a darkness I glimpsed only briefly, yet its chill lingers.
The urge to explore those shadows rises within me, but it's quickly overshadowed by a deep-rooted fear. That fragment of darkness felt vast and terrible. Is it mine? Is it what made me forget?
Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, washes over me. The futon beckons, offering a respite from the whirlwind of questions. As I sink into its soft folds, sleep promises an escape, a temporary sanctuary from the truths that lie within. Perhaps, with my newfound name as a guiding star, I'll find the strength to face them when I wake.
I awoke not too much later. I went to the main hall to eat and change. The bath was more than welcomed, scrubbing off what felt like months of stress and dirt. Fresh clothing felt so good. I had finally felt like I belonged. The robes were loose and comfortable. Soft and smooth, the fabric had a certain shine. They represented the Placidium perfectly. I was able to return to my futon to sleep. I knew I didn't have dreams. When I closed my eyes to sleep suddenly it was morning.
Tenzin greeted me. He was glad to see me cleaned up. He offered breakfast which consisted of eggs, berries, and miso.
"The Placidium welcomes weary travelers," He explains. "Whether it's to learn, train, or seek balance. Many stay the night, but leave the next morning. Or even weeks."
"I had no memories," I started. "And yet, I can feel a pull towards Ionia. It's peaceful and balanced. It feels like home. Do... Do I have a family?" Tenzin's smile vanished. He paused his tea.
"Unfortunately, I do not have such knowledge. But, that pull you feel, that's a feeling many come to learn of. That is the Spirit of Ionia."
"Spirit of Ionia?"
"Yes, the Spirit of Ionia," Tenzin continues, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "It is the essence of this land, the harmony that binds all things. Some perceive it as a gentle whisper on the wind, others a sense of belonging they've carried their whole life. For you…" He pauses, as if searching for the right words. "Perhaps it resonates with something deep within your soul, a connection severed by your memory loss."
He places a calming hand upon my shoulder. "The Placidium teaches us that balance is not simply the absence of conflict. It is the ongoing search for understanding within ourselves and the world around us. Your journey, Ravik, may not be about uncovering the past you lost, but embracing the person you are meant to become."
His words stir a strange mix of hope and uncertainty within me. Could my forgotten past truly be less important than the future? Can this… spirit… help me find my purpose?
"Can this Spirit of Ionia... can it help me find the answers I seek?" My voice is hesitant, barely above a whisper.
Tenzin smiles, a warmth returning to his features. "It cannot provide the answers directly. But perhaps it can guide you towards your own understanding. There is a sacred garden, nestled deep within the Placidium's grounds. A place where the Spirit of Ionia manifests most strongly. Would you like to see it?"
I nodded excitedly. My body felt like it was swelling with... I couldn't describe it. Hope? Excitement?
Tenzin rose and lead me out the door. Our destination wasn't far from the main hall. As we walked, Tenzin was kind enough to show me the Placidium. This place looked different between day and night. There were monks walking about, talking with each other and mediating. Students, possibly children, running in groups. Playing and laughing.
Tenzin took me through the Placidium's training ground. Several students were training and mediating.
"These are our future." Tenzin starts, pride evident in his tone. "They train to be protectors, healers, warriors, mages, and scholars. Each come from various backgrounds, but learn and grow here. Balance is Ionia's greatest trait, Ravik."
We approached an area covered with the biggest tree I have ever seen. It was surrounded by flowers and statues.
"This is the Heart of the Placidium. This tree is the manifestation of the Spirit of Ionia." Tenzin explained.
This place had a different feeling. Unlike the other areas, this felt heavy. As if a great amount of balance and meditation were done here. Tenzin guided me towards the tree.
"Come. Feel. Connect with the Spirit of Ionia. Let it guide you. Mediate, Ravik." Tenzin instructed, sitting beneath the tree.
Feel.
Connect.
Mediate.
I sat and breathed. Feel, connect, mediate. I closed my eyes, and allowed the world to melt away. I was patient now. I understood that my name came because I allowed it to come. Perhaps it's the same here as well. I cannot seek the Spirit of Ionia. I must allow it to come to me.
Feel.
I focused. On the gentle breeze. The rustling of leaves. The birds chirping. The smell of flowers.
Connect.
The sound of monk's chanting, students playing, and the gentle trickling of water. Connect.
Mediate.
I relaxed. I allowed myself to relax. To breathe. To be patient. Feel. Connect. Mediate.
A flash.
Darkness.
Corruption.
Chaos.
Destruction.
Voices.
Screaming.
Cold.
Death.
Regret.
Anger.
Grief.
Desperation.
Another flash.
'I sense you'. A woman's voice called out. 'Let me guide you'.
The darkness slowly receded. I couldn't see the person, but the voice felt strong and clear. I could feel the centuries of wisdom it held. I could feel-
"Brother Tenzin!" An excited monk calls out. My eyes open, and the voice fades. My heart thuds rapidly. Had that truly been the Spirit of Ionia? And the darkness… what did it mean?
Tenzin rises, surprise crossing his usually serene features. "Brother Jian," he acknowledges the monk, "Is there something urgent?"
Jian bows hastily, his excitement barely contained. "Forgive the interruption, Brother, but… Karma herself has arrived."
My unease is replaced by a flutter of curiosity. Karma? I've heard mentions of her from the monks. She sounded powerful, wise, and spiritual.
"Karma?" Tenzin voices my thoughts. Jian nods vigorously.
"She wishes to meet Ravik." He says. My eyes widened. Me? H-how did she even know I was here? Tenzin and I exchanged looks. He gestures for the monk to lead the way.
"Let's not keep the Spirit of Ionia waiting." He remarks.
I followed a nervous wreck. She knew my name. I just learned my name yesterday. How could she... Wait, what if she's a friend? Maybe she knows something? Who I was? What my past was? Who my family was. The thoughts made me sick. The excitement and hope, and the fear and anxiety. My heart began to race. The closer we got, the more nervous I was.
She was striking. Her warm, slightly brown skin contrasted with her short, dark hair, framing emerald green eyes that sparkled with a wisdom far beyond their years. Subtle touches of makeup, the dark eye shadow and deep red lipstick, highlighted her features, while a golden headband adorned with an aquamarine gem drew the eye.
Her attire was as unique as her aura. A long Ionian dress shimmered with shades of purple and violet, golden lines tracing intricate patterns across the fabric. A white sash, cinched with a purple bow, added a touch of lightness. Where one sleeve draped elegantly over her arm, the other side revealed a bare shoulder, and a single purple sock adorned her left leg.
A sense of calm washed over me, dispelling a fraction of my fear. Her presence was not imposing, but held a quiet strength, resonating with the ancient blossoms and the boundless Ionian sky.
"Ravik," she spoke, and her voice echoed in my heart as much as in my ears. "The Spirit of Ionia has guided me to you." Her words were simple, yet they filled the air with a weight I couldn't fully comprehend. My heart thumped with excitement. Did she come to give me answers? Or was it something else?
"What does the Spirit of Ionia want?" I asked, a little too quickly. She smiled, a warmth emanating from her gaze.
"The Spirit of Ionia never shares its intentions clearly. However, it guided you to the Placidium, just like it has me." She said, her tone thoughtful. Brother Tenzin approached her with respect and reverence.
"The Placidium welcomes you, Karma." He bowed. "To what do we owe the honor?"
Karma's eyes met mine, deep pools of wisdom that seemed to transcend time itself. "The Spirit of Ionia brought me here, guided by whispers whose meanings are often as elusive as the morning mist. It spoke of urgency, a need for balance that must be addressed. Why it chose to bring me to you at this moment, I cannot say with certainty."
She glanced around the tranquil surroundings of the Placidium, a soft breeze rustling through the leaves, as if carrying secrets of its own. "There are forces, ancient and powerful, long believed to be mere myths. These forces stir beneath the surface, felt only by those sensitive to the deepest currents of the world."
I felt a chill despite the warmth of the sun. "What does that have to do with me?" My voice was barely above a whisper, fear and curiosity warring within me.
Karma's expression softened, her gaze sympathetic yet resolute. "That is what we need to find out. The Spirit does not act without reason. Your arrival here, the awakening of your consciousness—it's no simple matter of chance. There is a purpose for you, intertwined with the needs of Ionia itself."
Tenzin nodded in agreement, his voice steady and calm. "Your journey here starts with self-discovery, Ravik. Through meditation, learning, and understanding, you will come to know not just yourself but also how you might influence the world around you."
"The path will not be clear at first," Karma added, her tone imbued with a gentle firmness. "It rarely is for those called to serve. But every step, every moment of enlightenment, will bring clarity. Trust in the Spirit's guidance, trust in us, and trust in yourself."
She then gestured to the lush gardens and ancient stone paths that wound through the Placidium. "This place has stood as a beacon of knowledge and balance for centuries. Let it be your sanctuary, your school. Here, the Spirit's whispers can be heard most clearly."
"Begin by grounding yourself in the here and now," Karma concluded, a mysterious smile touching her lips. "Let the peace of Ionia infuse you, strengthen you. When the time comes, you will be ready, not just to face whatever emerges from the shadows, but to embrace your part in Ionia's destiny."
I didn't know how to respond. I came looking for who I was, only to have a revered woman come to find me. The Spirit of Ionia wanted me to find myself, and for what? I don't understand. But she seemed to. Brother Tenzin did too. They had what felt like centuries of wisdom on me, and the Spirit of Ionia spoke to them. I couldn't really put together how I felt.
"Perhaps you should take some time to mull over Karma's advice before rushing into anything," Brother Tenzin gently suggested, his concern tinged with an undertone of excitement. "My dear brother and sister are always eager to hear tales of the Placidium. Join us for a meal; let me introduce you properly." He motioned to the bustle of activity around them, the hum of excitement in the air. Karma offered a supportive smile.
"There will be time aplenty for training and enlightenment," she encouraged. "For now, let yourself breathe."
My eyes roamed the Placidium, from the ancient roots that sprawled through its grounds to the timeless structures that dotted its landscape. A warmth swelled within me, along with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Perhaps this was a good thing. A step in the right direction.
The meal tonight was rice, kale salad, and fish. It was a beautiful sight, seeing everyone gathered. Even if I didn't know who these people were, the energy was inviting and warm. I was excited to learn about the Placidium. Voices clamored over each other as monks, scholars, students, and many more shared stories and moments. All I could do was listen. I didn't have any stories of my own to share. But there was something I was curious about. I had noticed it here and there around the Placidium, but didn't really known what to make of it. I had leaned over to Karma.
"I noticed the Placidium has damage all around. Did something happen?" I asked. Karma and Tenzin exchanged a knowing look. Tenzin looked down, as if remembering a painful memory. It must've been important, judging by his reaction.
"I'm sorry." I apologize, suddenly. "If you're not comfortable sharing. I shouldn't pry."
Karma shook her head. "No, it's alright. We would've gotten around to explaining. It is a chapter in the history of Ionia that should be known. At least, in the future. But, if you wish to know, it might be better to see for yourself." She offered. I wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but nodded either way. "The history of the Noxian Invasion was... troubling to say the least. To this day, many Ionians still hold grudges."
Tenzin picked up. "It was a time of great turmoil and sorrow. Noxus, driven by their hunger for conquest, launched a brutal assault on Ionia. They sought to dominate our lands, to crush our spirit and erase our way of life. What you see, the scars upon the Placidium, are remnants of that dark period."
Karma continued, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and sadness. "But Ionia is resilient. We believe in harmony and the strength that comes from unity and balance. The invasion tested those beliefs to their limits, but ultimately, it brought us closer together. We learned that peace is something we must actively protect, sometimes even fight for."
She gestured around the room, to the faces of those gathered. "Everyone here has been touched by the war in some way. Families were broken, but new bonds were formed in the midst of conflict. The Placidium itself became a symbol of our resilience, a beacon for those seeking refuge and a new start."
Tenzin nodded solemnly, his eyes meeting mine. "The stories of war are harsh, but they are important. They remind us of what is at stake, of the costs of freedom and peace. They teach us that sometimes, standing up to aggression is the only way to preserve what we hold dear."
Karma placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "And now, you find yourself here, at a time when the echoes of those conflicts still reverberate through the land. Your journey, whatever it may be, is part of this ongoing story. The spirit of Ionia has brought you here for a reason, and perhaps, understanding our past will help you see your path more clearly."
I nodded, absorbing the weight of their words. The history of the invasion wasn't just a tale of battles; it was a story of a people's resilience and their commitment to their values. As I looked around at the faces in the room, each marked by a mixture of joy and sorrow, I felt a deep connection to this place. I was part of it now, and its history was mine to share.
"In the coming days," Tenzin said, "you'll learn more about the spirit that binds us, the same spirit that fought back the darkness brought by Noxus. You'll understand why the Placidium stands repaired but not unscarred, proud yet humble. And perhaps, in understanding that, you'll come to understand yourself."
The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but my mind lingered on the stories embedded in the walls around us and in the hearts of those sharing this meal. I was no longer just a spectator; I was becoming a part of the narrative, woven into the fabric of Ionia itself.