He was distracted. He didn’t want to admit it to her but he was. He couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting, his feet from losing their rhythm. The way they danced said more about them than words could alone. The bond they shared was strong, even if they themselves couldn’t see it. His envious glare couldn’t be tamed. Mica and Chelle looked so happy, so alive, so… Full of purpose. He didn’t care that he lacked true companionship, he cared that he lacked purpose. All this time spent travelling, earning and killing in the name of what? The money? That was nice and all but it certainly wasn’t what kept him around. In truth Enzo felt an attachment to these three. They were the closest thing he had to family. And without them where would that leave him? He had nothing outside of this adventurer’s life. Sure there were friends and acquaintances, the Forgelord might entertain his presence for a few days, but who was there really?

Enzo tried his best to move along with Lois but his headspace left him fumbling over himself. These thoughts were something he had been quietly suffering with since Bilgewater. He hated that he couldn’t take his mind off it, that he couldn’t focus and enjoy himself. He wasn’t a bad dancer but Lois must’ve thought so little of him right now. He finally dragged his eyes away from Mica and Chelle for a moment to look upon his partner. He expected a poker face or an air of disappointment but instead he saw her expression was awash with judgement. She looked directly at him with narrowed eyes of scrutiny, trying to discern something about him or within him.

“You’re distracted, tell me why.” Lois demanded of him outright with no sign of nuance of subtlety.

Enzo cringed with humiliated unease. “Is it really that obvious?”

“To me it is.” Lois nodded, coming to a near idle one-two step again as they talked and danced.

Enzo was the furthest thing from a nervous individual. He took everything on the nose with imperturbable cool and outrageous humor. But standing before Lois, her eyes spearing through his very being, made him shrink within. Normally he’d feign his anxiety or ironically exaggerate it but her closeness, her focus, all of it was so suffocating. This was the same woman he’d had terrifying nightmares about. Nightmares that might have had more of an effect on his psyche than he would’ve liked to admit. He didn’t fear her in the moment, but those images so thoroughly branded his mind that it made it hard to share space with her like this.

After a long silence he finally exhaled and closed his eyes. “Mica and Chelle… They’ve made me realize that I don’t… Exist for anything right now… I have no purpose. They live for each other, but...” It was hard to come to terms with it. His heart ached something fierce. “Before you found me in Bandle City I was wandering the Freljord helping people and trying to find a place where I belonged. But I don’t belong anywhere…”

An almost motherly countenance showed on Lois’ visage. Perhaps one of understanding and sympathy, even. Their dancing slowed until it stopped completely. Lois reached a hand out to run the flat of her palm along the underside of Enzo’s ear in a comforting manner. Her eyes followed her hand with the smallest of smiles. Enzo’s own shot open at the sensation and a tingle ran down his spine, then his brow furrowed into a confused frown. But he said nothing. The pleasant feeling was too much to be denied.

“Everyone belongs somewhere, Enzo…” She said. Lois’ voice was honey and silk when she wanted it to be. But also stern and cold when she didn’t. This was an alien feeling, being on Lois’ good side for once.

“Come, I want to introduce you to someone.” Lois pinched his ear, resolute on bringing him along whether he wanted to or not.

“Ow! Okay, okay, okay!” Enzo groaned between clenched teeth.

Afternoon arrived just as they left the garden dance, bringing with it wisps of gentle blue light that swirled high in the air. To the untrained eye they appeared like clumps of fireflies with tiny motes that glowed within a larger whole. Behind them streamers of light trailed and flickered, whipping to leave lasting streaks that hung in the air like strokes of luminescent paint. Enzo caught one manifesting on his periphery. It descended from above to circle a young teenage girl and her Mother. The tiny motes of light suddenly began to expand until they burst like wet bubbles, leaving magical cinders to float before them. Enzo leaned in and squinted, discerning the vague shape of a humanoid forming. The girl exclaimed and burst into joyful tears.

“Papa!” She shouted. “Papa!” And ran to embrace the glowing silhouette. It hoisted her up as if it were a real flesh and blood man and she embraced it. An image took shape and a face blossomed, smiling brightly.

The soul, projected in ghostly light, spoke. Though he couldn’t understand it, the apparition seemed overjoyed. More souls wreathed in blue light began to descend, circulating through the throngs of people to find their loved ones. And soon the city was infected with their relieved spirit. People cried and laughed, Mothers returned to meet Sons and Daughters, Grandparents marvelled at the families their children had created and lost lovers ventured to spend one more night with their widows. The music’s grace expanded even further, now, in an effort to welcome them. Enzo could see a maelstrom of wisps floating just over the garden and musicians as they departed, almost like they were dancing, too.

“What’s… Happening?” Enzo asked.

“On the day the Spirit Blossoms bloom the souls of the dead return until the following morning and the gap between this world and our realm closes completely.” Lois explained.

“So, these are their spirits?”

“In a sense. As the day develops they’ll become more corporeal until eventually they can’t be distinguished from any other living thing. And then in the morning they’ll begin to fade away again.”

Enzo thought about that a moment. “So, could someone I know come back and see me?”

Lois, too, had to think on that question. “I suppose it’s possible, but they’d have to find their way through the gate.”

The outskirts of Ionia city were fast becoming distant as Enzo trailed behind Lois, not quite sure where they were going but trusting, for whatever reason - that she’d not lead him astray. The red fields of river grass were neglected in favor of a river passageway that rolled into a dense treeline. The trees were bizarre things that stretched high into the air, bulbous at the base and tapering towards the top. Their stout and quite frankly ugly branches mirrored the stubby yet elongated trunks they protruded from. On the very edges of the branches and their capillaries were three dimensional cones of pink-red leaves that grew upwards exclusively. They fanned out like the end of a makeup brush. The trees themselves were a parody of birchwood and likely the supply of timber used to build Ionia city. Yet Enzo saw no stumps or signs of logging.

The grass was flakey and blue, soft to the touch and the air here smelt of maple syrup, almost. Lois continued in a downhill heading, following along the river. A curious feathered stag with wild horns drank its fill ahead. The moment they made the slightest noise it rounded on itself and pranced away. The faint music of Ionia City finally came to a conclusion, replaced by an uproar of pleased citizens that could just barely be heard beyond the sound dampening of the trees around him. The river met a build up of rock, trickling through into a gentle waterfall where the river continued, no longer flowing but impossibly still. The canopy grew dense around this stretch of woodland and silence reigned.

Not a peep from the song birds or chittering insects, just silence. The only sound that kept Enzo’s worried mind company were the notes of their footfalls. He desperately wanted to break the tension with a lighthearted joke but he thought better of it. For now quiet was okay. The river’s banks widened considerably and Enzo could recognize curling roots breaking and entering its dormant surface. They looped up and out, then back in, giving him haunting visions of Fain’s Leviathan. All of them moved in an eastward direction back up towards the tributary dam they’d spied just a moment ago. The further west they travelled beside its length the larger the roots became, as did the trees surrounding it.

Enzo felt a creeping sensation of being watched all of sudden. Like the trees themselves had eyes that would close as soon as he shot an errant glance in their direction. Am I hallucinating? Dreaming? He looked down to see that he was still himself and ahead to confirm that Lois was still with him.

“Don’t worry,” She whispered, “That’s just her.”

Who? Before Enzo could clarify Lois leapt onto one of the tendril roots that reached out of the water, skipping from one to the other like a child playing hopscotch. She’d transition between left foot, right foot, then both. Enzo had never seen Lois’ guard so low. It was entertaining at the very least. So entertaining he couldn’t help but join her. He bound over to one root in a game of ‘the floor is lava’, bouncing after Lois with a growing smile. He was almost able to forget why they’d travelled here in the first place. Left foot, right foot, left foot. He was gaining on her, inches from her back when she slowed, forcing him to break his pace and hurry to a stop lest he slam into her.

She ambled across the length of a long and arcing root, moving towards the center of a pond encircled by a curling amalgamation of trees and canopy that voided the sun's rays, save for a single breach. Fontinalis floated across the pond’s expanse in patchwork patterns like cracked leather. On the farthest extreme the source of the roots was revealed. Like many creeping tendrils from a void monstrosity they extended down into the murky depths from a cluster of white bramble. But upon further inspection the elongated snout of something could be discerned within the mess of nature. The staccato crackling of warping wood pierced their ears. A long neck was freed from its rooted rigamortis all at once.

It was a dragon. But a dragon of wood. Horns were branches, claws were roots, wings were trunks and the wood spines across its back sprouted into plumes of brush leaf. It turned with visible atrophy to look down upon them, some twenty feet tall even with its hunched posture. Enzo nearly leapt back upon seeing what he thought to be more nature come alive before him.

“Uh, friend of yours?” Enzo gestured with a half-chuckle.

“This is Oni. She is the eldest Dragon I know. A link between the Spirit Realm and Runeterra.” Lois bowed before the branch drake and it bowed its head in return.

The Dragon opened its mouth and spoke with a crackling, croaky and throaty depth. If a tree could form words this is exactly how Enzo imagined it would sound. “Who is this you bring to me?”

“This is Enzo. A lost soul in need of guidance.”

“So I see.” Oni hummed, craning the length of her neck to look upon Enzo. More wood creaked, her pupil-less eyes blinking with a degree of concentration. “Tell me what troubles your heart, so, little Enzo.”

Only once in Enzo’s long lifespan had he glimpsed the grandeur of a fully grown Dragon. An Ice Drake from times past in the frigid Freljord’s Avarosan regions. This was a marvel in and of itself. His curiosity was pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind as his troubled thoughts flooded back to the fore. He was left speechless for a moment, trying his best to unravel it further so he could better explain it.

“I suppose it’s my lack of purpose. I just-... I just want something to live for again.”

“Sit.” Oni said. And a root surfaced and curled for him to sit upon.

Enzo clambered up onto the root, glancing back at Lois. “I’ll let Chelle and Mica know to meet you back at the house. I have some things to take care of tonight so I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

Enzo nodded. “Yeah.” And he watched as she went, back up along the stream and beyond the brush.

“I think you already know what it is you want, little Enzo.” Oni began again, her bass voice low in her throat.

“No, no, no…” He shook his head with raw laughter of disbelief. “That is not what I want.”

Oni replied with a low grumble that was almost mistaken for a growl. But on the contrary, Enzo decrypted it as a hum of amusement. “Not little Lois. Though, perhaps that is part of it. I speak of adventure.”

“But- That’s all I’ve done since I joined Lois and the others.” He was not only confused, but a little skeptical now. Was this dragon really so wise and powerful? He thought.

“No, little Enzo. You haven’t.” Oni challenged.

A small flower sprouted just before his crossed legs, growing in a matter of seconds to blossom as if it were a season of renewal. Its petals glowed with mystic blue energies not unlike the motes of soul light he had seen earlier. Yellow anthers willowed out from its center and its stigma stood at attention in the iris of its receptacle. Enzo gazed upon it for a while, finding the luminescent pollen that floated around it entrancing. They drifted in ways that hinted at patterns. If only he could look a little closer and piece together the puzzle, almost like an Astrologist piecing together the constellations.

And suddenly the airborne pollen was a constellation. He was gazing into the aether without a worry in the world, a passenger in his own head. He looked ahead now to see the distinct shape of a peak, but not just any peak. A sliver of amber light trickled across its top like molten gold and a drifting column of smoke rose to muddy the air, leaking up into the windless night. Snow fell around him and his heavy furs did little to keep him warm. But he was on a mission. His eyes finally looked down to spy the piece of parchment he was clutching. It was a map. Scribblings of notes and markers floated around a central circled location. Hearth-Home.

The wind cut into his ear like a whisper, forcing him to roll his hood over his head and tuck them back into the warm safety of it. He trekked on through the snow as his consciousness was lifted away to spectate himself in third person. The creeping voice of Oni found him again. It was sourceless and all encompassing.

“Do you see now?” She asked.

Enzo was still confused, watching as his past self walked along the base of the volcano in search of a hidden passage his present self already knew the location of. “I’m… Not following.”

He was suddenly tugged towards the volcano, ran on an invisible string up into the air and down towards its fiery opening. “Uh- Oni! Wait!” His arms came up to shield him from the lava and the heat. His eyes shut tightly and he prepared himself for searing pain. But searing pain is not what he found.

The hot woosh of bellows followed by the plinking of a hammer on hot steel greeted his ears. He opened his eyes to see the Forgelord working beside him. In his hand was a glowing-red piece of worked metal and in the other was his hammer. Ornn’s mountain of master crafted weapons sat in a tall pile to one side of the forge, likely never to be used by another living soul. That made the present him and the past him smile. The warmth of Ornn’s molten magnitude combined with the heat of the forge forced him to wipe the sweat from his brow. He was shirtless and strong, but not as strong as he was now. These were his earliest weeks of tutelage. When he was still learning and crafting his totem.

It all seemed so long ago now. He really did miss it. The whirr of the grindstones and the embers that played across the forge everytime he threw coal into its voracious maw. Even his shoddy bed arrangements and the smell of ash were a pleasant memory. Enzo’s conversations with Ornn were the best. Pestering an introvert Demi-God who hated social interaction might’ve been some of the most fun he’d had in years. Even still Ornn was a kind and gentle soul. They had created a bond, however loose. He knew if he was in need of help Ornn would surely lend his hammer to Enzo’s plight.

“You are mistaken.” Oni croaked.

Her sudden input shocked him out of his thoughtful rumination. “What do you mean? About what?”

“Adventure is not merely travelling. It is the discovery and learning of new things. Your fond memories are only fond because you were driven by your innate curiosity. You wanted to learn about Ornn, become his pupil and master the forge as he did. You followed the threads and investigated. You sought your own purpose. Your soul hungers for true adventure, not mercenary work.”

Enzo had never thought of it that way. Was it really as simple as finding his own path again instead of following others? “But, what about Mica, Chelle and Lois? They matter to me, now.”

“You must seek balance in all things. This is the way of the First Lands. It does not have to be all or nothing.” Oni assured him.

A sudden rush of wind and blinding light brought him back to reality, breaking his hypnotism all at once. The Spirit Blossom still swayed gently in the late afternoon breeze, carrying its glowing pollen up towards Enzo to scatter across his furry cheeks. He blinked hard for a second, reckoning with the inlet of information that so recently flowed into his head. He was finally able to break away from the Spirit Blossom’s beauty to look up at Oni.

“So, you’re saying I need to take some time away to really be happy again?”

“The choice is yours. From your heart I see threads. Threads that connect to far away sands and insatiable hunger, there new purpose awaits you... You have the soul of a protector, little Enzo. This much is clear to me.” Oni’s long neck rolled back to seat her draconic head high above.

“Thank you.” Enzo stood and bowed, deeply.

The root he sat on lowered into the water slowly, dumping him off on the outskirts of the pond. Shurima? He asked himself. A land he had only heard of in stories and books. It was the furthest thing from Freljord there could be. But it was a new place with a new locale and new experiences. Doubt infected his being. He was conflicted. On the one hand venturing to Shurima did sound like a pleasant reprieve from his daily life. But the girls were fast becoming like family to him. He resigned with a sigh. Just need some time to think.

His feet started on their way but his curiosity rooted him soon after, forcing him to turn. He wandered back towards the edge of the pond with a long stare towards Oni, who now hunched to return the look.

“I have to ask. How is it you and Lois came to know each other?”

Oni sat silent for a moment before answering. Her tone was almost that of a disappointed parent. “Once upon a time little Lois came upon me in her time of need, I led her to me, in fact. I sensed her troubled soul. I taught her just the same as I teach you and others, she was in need of guidance. Little Lois once had many threads… But she has a habit of unintentionally cutting them. She does not see her purpose as clearly as she should. Darkness blinds her.”

“Darkness?” He leaned in with a raised brow.

The wood creaked and Oni shook her head. “Her path is not for me to discuss with you, little Enzo. I am sorry.”

That deflated Enzo. But another last question perked his ears immediately after. “And before… You said that was part of it… She was part of it… Did you see any other threads in my heart?”

“Only one other.” The branch drake said.

The crowded city streets of Ionia only increased in density as the night went on. She moved with purpose through the people, creating a path for herself through the narrow alleys that ran between bustling thoroughfares. A cavalcade of paradesmen dance their way in her direction, forcing her to turn away and lengthen her journey by a handful of seconds. Every second counted, though. She had wasted too much time enjoying herself as is. She wrestled with the joyous people to cut through gaps and avoid wagons full of fireworks. She had to be there before nightfall. The detour to retrieve her travel pack and inform the other two of Enzo’s whereabouts had delayed her by a significant margin. No time to be polite.

Her wooden geta click-clacked against the cobblestone road as she broke into a jog and then a sprint, bouncing along the edges of the street to try and give the stream a wide berth. There it was, now. Another tree much like the one that towered over the song pit. It stretched high into the air. Along its trunk were a number of wood woven windows that crossed back and forth like latticework. The hollow interior shone with warm firelight within. It’s width was impressive, rivalling the size of the palace's widest tower. On the outside rounded tiers of balconies escalated all the way up its circumference.

The light faded just as she was approaching Longtree Inn. Its rooms were no doubt booked by celebrating travellers but that wasn’t what she was here for. The first floor was a beautiful bar room with cushions and wood woven floor tables nestled neatly in six rows of three. The cylindrical interior expanded up overhead in a tiered fashion where a flight of stairs curled along the rounded walls and up to each one. There were some fifteen floors in total, all with circular outcroppings that were made safe by woodwoven banisters, mirroring the balconies outside. The beautiful barmaid had her hands too full with rowdy Ionians seeking lodging to notice her scampering between their legs and up the stairs.

Tenth floor, room eighty-three. Tenth floor, room eighty-three. Tenth floor, room eighty-three.

Tenth floor, room eighty-three. There it was. Her heart rate mellowed as she breathed a sigh of relief. Here just in time. She approached the door, looking up at the number ‘eighty-three’ etched into the wood. Then her hand rose to knock on the door with some reluctance. Just four times and only four times.

“It’s open.” A voice said from within.

She slid the door aside and stepped in, shutting it quickly behind herself. Her eyes rose to find a figure wreathed in regal Ionian dress stood looking out of a window. A hint of red with greys and browns was offset well with the golden filigree. A rounded straw hat sat on his head and a black silken cowl masked the back and sides of his head. A strange protrusion erupted beneath the robes across his right shoulder, almost as if he were mutated in some way. His thin and wiry yet fit frame was accentuated by the compression of his wardrobe. He had all the flair of a showman. He spun around to reveal his face, or lack thereof. An angular, porcelain white mask with accentuated cheekbones and a curling smile veiled the man behind.

Lois was far less concerned with the man and far more concerned with the mutilated woman who’s corpse lay strewn across the bed. Though, concerned might not have been the best word for it. Her drying blood stained the white sheets of the expensive suite. Her bloodshot sage green eyes were left open in absolute terror. Fear in the moment of the kill. Her disembodied arms lie across the bed on either side of her head with her wet palms resting over her mouth as if she were in shock of something unseen. Fresh and bloody scarification ran the length of her body in beautifully etched patterns, wrapping around in circles across the rises in her skin. Her person was oddly clean despite the crimson bed sheets underneath her. Her hair had been noticeably done up after the fact, too, combed and doctored to perfection.

“Ah, Nehel. Impeccable timing.” The man whispered. His voice was drab. But not drab and tired like Lois, drab and dramatic. As if everything in the world bored him, save himself.

“Myoshu.” Lois whispered in greeting.

His breath hitched as he strode over to the dead woman with a gesture. “My latest work, what do you think?”

“It’s… Fine.” Lois grunted.

“Just fine? Your artistic eye has only gotten worse with time, I see.” Myoshu exhaled, turning to find his pride and joy.

Sat on a night stand were both halves of his rifle, assembled. Though he wouldn’t claim it as such. To him it was much more than just a rifle. It was the brush in which he used to paint. It meant more to him than almost anything in the world. The rifle was crafted of immaculate gold and Ivory, finely etched with flowing designs along its front. Embellished decorative plating like cutting blades ornamented the sides and stock of the weapon, and the ironsight was a simple sharpened fin along the top of the gun. The weapon snapped in half much like a break action a few inches up the stock, reducing its length to make it into a compact pistol carbine at his discretion.

“How much did he tell you?” Myoshu asked, running his gloved palm along the bridge of his rifle.

Lois entered the room proper, glancing to the bloodied cutting tools that lie across the foot of the bed. “Not much. Master told me that he had a mission for me… And that you have a Recall Stone that would take us to the Hidden Monastery. From there we hunt.”

Myoshu placed a tired palm on the forehead of his mask, closing his single good eye. “Vague as ever…” He snapped his weapon in half and secured the inert barrel to his hip. “The stage is set for our performance at Thanjuul. The false figurehead seeks to close the curtain on our shadows. Ionia will be in hand. After that there’s another audience to captivate in Targon. Then the paint can be laid.”

“And how are we getting to Thanjuul in just a single night?” Lois took a half-step forward, extending her palm out.

Myoshu rummaged into the crease of his robes, revealing a ruby gemstone anchored to a golden necklace. “The brute will cut us a way in.” He punctuated his sentence by dropping the gem into her waiting hand.

That was a detail Master left out. “Ikari? Who else is hunting?”

“Ikari, Yuzaru, Ketsuekime and that little whore priestess who can’t shut her mouth. Now, can we be on our way?” His indignation was immense.

Lois was almost amused at that. Almost. She closed her palm around the ruby as light broke through the creases between her fingers.

The same glow emerged from Myoshu’s fist when a ring encircled his feet, emanating upwards in fading rings of light. “Oh! And leave the door cracked, will you? What good are theatrics without the masses' approval?”

Lois groaned, turning back to pull the door slightly ajar. When she turned again Myoshu vanished in a flash of light. Then it was her turn a second later. A burning sensation pulled at the edges of her skin when suddenly space and time thrust her through its mind numbing compass. The two of them were gone like that, the body left behind to be discovered… Eventually...