Like all things in Ionia, infrastructure was made one with nature. And the Hidden Monastery was no different. A cliff set on a rocky outcropping overlooking the oceans north-east of the isle Qaelin was dotted with cairn stones. Tucked neatly into these cairn stones were red ribbons that swayed with the cool high mountain breeze, whipping audibly each time the wind raged. It cut through the rocky mountain side with an unsettling whistle, almost like an Ionian flute, but somehow with sinister undertones. The outcropping along the cliffs edge appeared lonely, being the only protrusion across its uneven edge.

At the very extreme of the eminence was a shrine gate, made of old wood painted with red ink along its two rising, circular pillars. They were nestled into the stone near seamlessly, suggesting some sort of elemental magic rooted them in place long ago. The red varnish told a story of age. Seasonal rains had washed at its pigment, dulling it, and the paint chipped in places from sharp wind wearing at its coatings. These pillars towered up some fifteen to twenty feet with about ten feet between them before connecting together with a trio of horizontal lintels, the highest stretched across their very tops and was longer than the ones beneath it that intersected both poles before continuing outwards to their left and right. These lintels were elaborately designed and painstakingly hewn into curved shapes. Ornamental wedges provided additional flair to its presentation, and though old, it still commanded respect.

Jhin approached it with a sense of reverence he rarely gave to anything. His respect of the arts in all their forms showed through as he placed his hand against the aged wood, careful not to chip the crimson pigment any further. His mask conveyed little emotion, leaving it all to be assumed from his body language and actions. It was honestly how he preferred it. Seeing someone's expression was the easiest method of reading their intent. This way required provocative thought and a keen eye the average soul often lacked. Though not this one. He turned now to look upon his diminutive ally. A brow raising as she meandered around the stoney outcropping.

“Well?” He asked.

Lois turned to him in her own near featureless mask and stared a while. Her look and the length of it told him she wasn’t gauging the significance of their visit. He placed a palm to his forehead in frustration.

“Is everything a riddle with you? Just tell me why we’re up here.” Lois demanded.

He gestured to the gate on the high cliff as he spoke. “History, all showmen must understand those who came before, so as not to duplicate their performances. Something new done once is exciting…” His voice, full of excitement itself, now fell into monotony. “Something new done twice is just boring.”

“I’m not a showman.” Lois retorted immediately after.

“Oh, but you are, dear Lois.” He laughed. “At Thanjuul you painted just as I did. We are artists, you and I. Perhaps not of the same caliber,” He shrugged one shoulder and turned away, “But artists nonetheless.”

Lois merely scoffed in his direction, stepping to the opposite side of the gate. Her hand found the pillar just as her guide’s did, feeling the striations in the wood in attempts to understand it better. Her eyes wandered along its height up to the lintels that curved down and then up to form an ovular shape. Something was missing from their center though. Like an eye missing an iris.

“Do you disagree?” Jhin asked, twirling his cane thoughtlessly.

“I don’t murder because it’s fun, Jhin. I kill for a cause. Our cause. You kill for sick pleasure.”

“How trite. That argument has been used for generations as a way to justify sin. The noble soldier would say the same and so would the unfortunate killer. Doing what they think they must because their country or their family demanded it of them. You’re better than that, my dear. Try again.”

She struggled to refute that point, but she was stubborn and not so easily dissuaded from her argument. “People do immoral things for moral reasons all the time… And some people do immoral things because they’re forced to.”

“And what?” He notched his chin. “You believe yourself a prisoner?”

“No, I’m not a prisoner. But I’ve made connections here. There are people I care about in the family. I would feel guilty if I left.” She summoned her blade and looked into its crystalline depths, searching for the eyes she knew were staring back at her.

“See this gate?” Jhin stooped low to come face to face with Lois.

“I brought you here to show you what this family is founded upon.” He tapped one pillar with his cane. “This gate is built of the strongest wood in Ionia. The hands that crafted this belonged to some of the best wrights to ever grace this forsaken isle. It has withstood the test of time because of its quality. They anchored it to its foundation and here it remains nearly a thousand years later, through the rain, the sleet, the cutting wind and the snow. It is a symbol of our creed. And you would forsake that for these so called friends you met but months ago?”

“I-” Lois began, but was silenced when he swung his bedazzled cane in her direction.

“You are one of Master’s most talented artisans, you’ve danced under many a light and snuffed out many more in the name of the Blood Moon. You say you paint for a reason but seek to abandon that reason? You and your kind live longer than any of us so you have seen how this family has grown. I don’t care if you stay or go, but at least base your decision in reality, not misguided fantasy of what could be.” Jhin concluded.

Lois inhaled, slowly. “Does he know?”

“As of now? No.” He turned his back on her again, coming to the cliff’s edge to look over it at the tumultuous waves that beat against the base of the tall rock. It was a far drop, one he intended to take soon enough.

“You kept my secret…” Lois looked up at him with a hint of surprise in her tone.

“I kept your secret because you fear for nothing. You are his favorite after all, any repercussions would be a slight inconvenience at best. And even then they would be rendered privately.” Jhin spoke with some degree of annoyance.

“Since when did you ever care about that?”

“I don’t care about who sits in his lap…” Jhin sighed.

“But you care about me, don’t you?” Lois took a step towards him.

“No.” He said plainly. “Not you, but what you could become.”

A look of knowing crossed Lois’s features beneath the mask. She found the edge and peered over. The bottom of the outcropping was just water and no rocks. Which might’ve been strange considering the rest of the jagged coastline was populated with stone spines that protruded up from its depths like a half hidden bed of quills. She admired the white water as it came into contact with the rock, having eroded it slowly to form a curling lip at the top of the cliff that only grew larger every year.

“What we were before… We could be again?” Her head craned towards him for a second time, hoping he’d look back. But he never did.

“You and I are both artists… But of a different caliber. I am no longer who I used to be, I see differently with the limelight in my eyes.” Jhin admitted.

“Do you regret it?”

He was suddenly taken aback, as if offended. “I could never regret my life’s work. It gave me purpose. What would I be if not a performer?”

“Normal.” Lois droned.

“Normal is unexciting. I only feel alive when the music is at full volume, the stage is bright and my brush is dabbed with ink…” He clenched his fist hard before it fell limp at his side once more. “I always say every performance will be my last, but I lie every time…”

“So you want me to be as you are? A psychopath?” She grit her teeth in growing frustration. “Is that what it would take for us to be together again?”

“I’ve seen you create works of art so inspiring, completely unlike anything else I’ve seen before. Accidental perfection, I’d call it. I am not the bland soul I used to be. But I see in you the ultimate potential. And that excites me.”

“I can’t-” She began.

“You can. I can’t change for you and you know this. But you can change for me. And we can be again, like we were so long ago.” Jhin punctuated his sentence with a long breath in just before he tipped off the edge of the cliff, plummeting towards the water.

Lois watched as he dived and disappeared into the sea with barely a splash to mark his entry before it was washed away by the waves. She blinked hard and looked ahead at the horizon, struggling to breath at that revelation. He wants me back? She thought. Lois had turned the page on that chapter of her life a long time ago. A time when Jhin was young, thoughtful and not obsessed with grotesque murder. Before his fantasies had taken hold they were involved. Lois always thought of him as the one who got away. And as fate would decree Jhin would also be the lost lover she could never get rid of.

The Blood Moon was an ancient cult, often thought to be a myth or folktale by Ionians who didn’t know better. Before she knew it she knew Jhin. He was an actor in a little Ionian theater, always grasping for stardom but never quite reaching the acclaim he so desperately sought. In a bid for inspiration he travelled Ionia, hoping it would fuel his next creative venture. He was a multifaceted man with many talents, but none were so exercised and grand as his paintings.

They met one night on a hill wreathed in wild flowers. Lois was wandering the countryside in search of these rare wild flowers, they were said to be a vital component in the creation of hasting potions. Her mind lost itself in memory, back to her simple life as an Alchemist. Back when her quaint little potion shop attracted many eager customers. She had so little competition, then. And such a vast collection of highly sought after concoctions. The money she made then fueled her expeditions today. She missed those times.

Jhin was painting the valley she had just risen from. She asked him what it was he was doing up on that hill alone so late in the evening. He wasn’t alarmed by her features, nor amazed or confused. He just looked at her with a smile and said, “Painting you.” Lois remembered rushing up to his canvas to take him for the fool he so obviously was. But she was surprised to find he was telling the truth. He had been painting her walking through the valley up towards the hill since he saw her. She was hardly drawn with portrait-esque detail but that endeared her to him more than she was willing to admit at the time.

Lois asked him how he saw her so well from so far away and he said he had near perfect eyesight. Every detail was there from her travel pack to her high ponytail and even the tufts of hair that dangled beside her cheeks. They talked until morning about nothing in particular. Never once did he inquire about what kind of a creature she was, that apparently didn’t matter to him. Jhin invited her back to his wagon and he ended up giving her a week-long tour of Navori in his travel vardo. They fell in love so quickly. Almost too quickly, really.

But all that was rose-tinted history. Jhin wasn’t the enthusiastic and kindhearted young man she once knew. And despite knowing that she couldn’t help but be drawn to his proposal. She knew what he was asking her to do. He wanted Lois to give herself to Nehel completely. Let her bloodlust rule and become the “artist” he knew she could be. Her eyes wandered to the length of her massive and ornate cleaver, spotting Nehel’s eyes glaring at her with dark understanding. In truth Lois hadn’t felt such an immediate connection like that in all her lifetime. She yearned for love and intimacy like that again. And Nehel knew it.

“Is it finally time to drop this facade, little one?”

She didn’t need to dignify that with a response. But Nehel continued anyway, prodding in hopes of swaying her.

“You are not brave, you are not strong and you are not confident. You are a weak creature, terrified of the darkness within yourself. But I can make you all the things you pretend you are, you can love again. Accept me!” Nehel demanded.

She didn’t listen. Even if she was contemplating that choice he wouldn’t be the factor that decided such things. Lois bamfed the sword away with half a hand motion, causing it to acidify into blood that hung in the air before it became nothing again. And the voice was dispelled. Lois took a few steps back and a running start forward, casting herself off the high cliff with closed eyes before forming into a spear. Her heart beat in her little chest as the wind rushed against her face and through her hair and past her ears. The sounds of the violent ocean grew closer and closer until sound itself was muffled beneath the waves. Cold gripped her like an icy fist and she clawed deeper still.

Her plunge sent her scything into the water. It was the only natural way to reach the monastery without drowning. To leap through the gate and into the ocean was a rite of passage given exclusively to senior members of the cult. Where previously all members would only be able to reach the Hidden Monastery via recall stone, those who had earned the trust of the Master had its location revealed to them. The lonely island north-east of Qaelin was an ingenious hiding place for it. No settlements or places of significance could alert anyone to the Monastery’s existence. It was virtually untraceable.

Lois swam deeper until a perfect circle practically apperated before her. She reached it and plummeted a second time, splashing into water again, this time shallow. She emerged to find a rounded chambered with a central pool of clear water. Inversely, at the top of the chamber was the entry point of the exact same size as the aforementioned pool. Runes gathered at its edges, keeping the ocean water at bay with a magical force field. A single semicircular door led out of the chamber with incense burners and candles lining the smooth walls. A small plinth waited for her just outside the pool with a rounded orb affixed to its top. She had to reach up a little for it but when she made contact all the moisture was pulled from her person, drying her in an instant.

She entered into another circular chamber shaded in dim crimson firelight. In contrast to the smaller room she exited, this one was massive and domed. Pillars evenly spaced about fifteen feet apart and marked with Ionian script ran along the perimeter of the room, leaving an equal space between them and the wall. Above and occupying the entirety of the domed ceiling was the recreation of the lunar cycle with a glowing cardinal moon at its very center that shone more red light down into the chamber. The sunken floor was brimming with blood that trickled into gaps where it was recycled and renewed from several spouts across its shallow depths. Lengths of golden metal bridge connected the edges of the chamber, providing walkways and islands for worshipers to move across and occupy. Several robed figures talked amongst themselves just as Lois entered and moved to the far end of the massive hall. More doors lined the outskirts of the chamber. Those doors existing to the exact north, east, south and west were marginally larger than their neighbors on either side of them.

Lois moved south, through the door and into a vast conservatory populated with Ionian plantlife. More robed figures tended to their health as she passed through, admiring the bioluminescent flora on her way into the next antechamber. It broke into several wings with quarters all throughout. This was the lodging for the monastery. She glanced left and then right before proceeding to a door at one extreme of the furthest wing. Then she produced a small key and unlocked it, pushing into the room quickly and closing it behind herself, back against the wood.

The room was empty, as she knew it would be. She was allowed in here, unofficially, anyway. It was a grandiose room with a double bed, a luxury most other devotees weren’t afforded. The walls were festoon with expensive trinkets and keepsakes. It had all the flair of a rich aristocrat’s personal quarters infused with decorum befitting an adventuring high roller. This was the Master's room. And by extension, her bedroom. Her relationship with her Master was complicated. In more ways than one. She moved to her side of the bedroom, opening the drawer to her bedside table. Inside four red carnelian hearts affixed to bejeweled necklaces waited for her. She admired them for a moment, stretching the necklaces across the back of her hand to rest the carnelian hearts in her open palm. It had been almost a year since the Spirit Blossom Festival and still her decision wasn’t any easier.

She hardly had time to think about it longer when the door opened. Lois stuffed them back into the drawer and slammed it closed, turning to face the intruder. A tall and masculine figure with a navy blue hood and an ornate, flared standing half-cloak that extended out to the shoulders occupied the doorway. A long cape stretched down his back, form fitting gauntlets with golden edges hid his hands and forearms and regal armor with red cloth and purple robe combined to complete his ensemble. Lastly was his white mask. It was finely crafted, tapering with a sharp jaw. A ‘Y’ shaped slit of shadow started at the chin and extended up towards the center of the mask, breaking into eye slits. A third red eye ran vertically across the forehead and seemed to blink as if real. The man removed the mask as he closed the door to reveal his visage. It was the same handsome face from Bilgewater. Her Master.

“Lois?”

“Master.” She replied, removing her mask as he did.

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, moving into his study to gather his scrawlings.

She followed swiftly after him. “I- I was just making myself presentable, you know, getting myself ready for your address.”

“You mean Jikan’s address?” He chuckled. “Did anyone see you come in?”

“No, Master.” She shook her head with a smile. “Did- Uh… Did you want me to find my way here after the address, Master?”

He paused in the middle of folding and tucking his papers. “No…” Then he resumed, clearing his desk before he started back towards the door. “No, things are busy right now.”

“Oh, alright, then.” Lois watched as he scrambled to make ready. “Then, if you won’t be needing me can I take some leave from the Monastery? I have some things I have to attend to back home.”

He frowned at hearing that, rounding on her suddenly before squatting to level with the Yordle. “Your home is here.”

“Y- You know what i mean.” Lois’ ears wilted in embarrassment.

“Well, as much as I’d like to say yes I need you here for other reasons. Things are moving quickly and you’re one of the best Bloodkin I have on hand right now. No vacations, darlin’. It’ll have to wait.” Both his palms massaged at her ears. “Now come on, don’t want to keep em’ waitin’, do we?”

“We’re going together?” She asked with visible confusion.

“No time to be discreet about it.”

Lois became Nehel as soon as she broke through those tall arching doors at her Master’s side. This room was almost a cathedral of sorts with red robed figures knelt in dozens of semi-circular rows that crowded towards a dais on the far wall. The smooth black granite floor reflected the ocean above. Glass supported by load bearing pillars allowed them a view into the bottom of the sea and the wild life that called it home. The aquatic depths danced across the massive chamber as daylight filtered through them to light it accordingly. The devotees in their bland crimson robes proceeded the Bloodkin; the fighting elite of the Blood Moon cult. These Bloodkin were settled nearer to the dais where they earned the privilege of kneeling before the Figurehead: Jikan, in a protective barrier.

She took her place beside Myoshu and Yuzaru just as her Master ascended the steps and joined Jikan. Jikan raised his wrinkled palms up and out in greeting. “Children of the blood, born of blood and reborn again in blood.”

The room as a whole lifted their voice immediately after. “Children of the blood, born of blood and reborn again in blood.”

“We giveth shed blood unto the red Moon and the Spirits in turn grant us strength.” Jikan exhaled as if possessed.

“We giveth shed blood unto the red Moon and the Spirits in turn grant us strength.” The room repeated.

“Mind, body and Spirit as one, step by step we erode the veil.”

“Mind, body and Spirit as one, step by step we erode the veil.”

The room bowed their heads low to the ground. “Awaken.” They all said in unison.

Nearly all at once those Bloodkin possessed of Demons had their eyes burn bright blue-red. The connection was made between realms and the knowledge of Jikan’s Demon was bestowed upon him ten fold for the duration of his speech.

“Brothers and Sisters, as many of you know already, the Great Shadow is no more. Temple Thanjuul has been captured and we await the return of Sheida Kayn. He, among others, is the last stepping stone to dominion over Ionia. We are already making preparations for a coupe that will hand power from the rulers and politicians to our plants with the aid of the subverted Kinkou order. The only minor power in these lands that has yet to be dealt with are the Noxians that still infest our shores. Over the coming weeks we will dedicate our forces to driving them out of Ionia by whatever means necessary…”

Jikan glanced to his Master for a moment and out across the room of the kneeling devotees. “There is no doubt that the Defiant Blade and her Avatar ally will attempt to fight back against us, so Matsuro will lead the militant arm of our brotherhood against them personally. Matsuro…” He gestured to his place at the podium, stepping down.

Matsuro nodded as he ascended the dais further to take the podium, donning his most official speaking voice. “Thank you, Master Jikan.” And he bowed. “Now, despite our growing numbers we are still light on man power. Our strength comes from our bond with the Spirits but even that won’t be enough to square with the Blade, the Avatar and the whole of Navori’s guard. Make no mistake, our objective is to take the Placidium. That can’t be done without bloodshed. To muster the bodies we need we’ll be recruiting from a most unlikely place; The Lunari from Mount Targon…”

Matsuro shuffled a deck of cards and sent them all spiraling into the air where they floated untethered. They whipped and spun towards each Bloodkin present, finding their hand. On the animated front of the card Mount Targon stood.

“One of our very own Priestesses hails from the mountains there. The Lunari and the Blood Moon have an intrinsic bond that’s gone unspoken for decades. They are ready to unite. The only issue,” The card displayed the symbol of the Blood Moon and Lunari as one before it flipped to a golden emblem of the sun’s likeness, “the Solari. The Lunari won’t seed their territory to their enemies to come assist us until they’re dealt with. We need to help them snuff out the fire before they can be recruited. How do we do this? Ixtal…”

The animatic of the Solari’s emblem became a verdant jungle. “An eclipse would render the Solari near defenseless and Master Jikan can manipulate the lunar cycle, but doing so on a scale larger than what we already have been would be catastrophic for the oceans of Runeterra, I’m sure you understand. There’s only one woman who has the power to calm the sea while we execute our plan at mount Targon: Quiyana.”

The animatic produced a picture of a woman with shoulder length, curly white hair, dark skin and a shapely figure. “Quiyana also has a problem. She has a whole host of family keeping her from the throne of Ixtal. If we help her solve that problem we not only get her to help us with this Solari situation, but we also get a thankful puppet at the head of another major country. With Ixtal and the Lunari at our backs, Ionia will be child’s play. From there we can set our sights on countries like Shurima and Demacia and so on and so forth... Preparation for Ixtal and eventually Targon, begins today. Furthermore, I’d like to make an announcement…”

Matsuro’s glowing eyes found Nehel who was knelt looking up towards him only a few feet away. She blinked and started to turn her head away before refocusing.

“With Master Jikan’s blessing already given, I’d like to welcome Sister Nehel to her new role as High Priestess. She is now the spiritual link between realms and Matron of the blood. Please address her with the proper titles and honorifics. Her induction ceremony will be held a week from now at noon. She and I will be working closely over the coming months.” Matsuro shifted his attention back to the gathering as Nehel glared at him with bewildered eyes.

Matsuro gave the podium back to Jikan where he dismissed their followers. But Nehel remained until the room was clear, still kneeling at the very edge of the dais. Matsuro cast a hand towards Jikan now that they were alone, dismissing the Figurehead.

“Master… Thank you, but I- I’m not ready… I- I can’t do this…” Her voice broke with panic.

“The family needs guidance right now. And you need realignment. What better way to achieve both than to have you be their Matron of Blood?”

So he did know…

“But I-...” The worlds fell from her mouth before she could find them.

He looked at her expectantly with his still gleaming eyes. They bore through her like daggers against her skull. “I… Will do as you say, Master.”

“Very good. Now, see the Maker for your new attire.” Matsuro stepped past her and towards the exit.

“New… Attire?” She asked.

“Specially made for you, darlin’. The one and only robes of the High Priestess.”

Lois stood alone in the auditorium for a long time. She didn’t know how to feel. She should be happy, ecstatic even. She was one of the families’ heads, now. But she couldn’t help but feel wrong about it. How did she become so attached in just a few short months? It didn’t matter now. Even if she did find some free time to escape her duties here it wouldn’t be for nearly as long as she'd like. She wanted to cry, plead for a demotion, but she couldn’t let herself. Even in the lonely silence of the empty auditorium she wouldn’t let the mask slip.

Eventually she made her way to the Maker. An older Vastayan woman with tall ears, white hair and four fox tails. Work in progress masks and robes decorated the walls of her tiny tailor secluded in the corner of the Hidden Monastery. “Welcome,” She said in a gentle and almost sluggish yet friendly tone, “You must be the new High Priestess. Congratulations. Matsuro had me make this for you in advance, I hope it’s to your liking. He even requested a new mask.” Then she presented the outfit in question with a smile.

Lois picked up the dress robes to inspect them. The first thing that caught her eye was the head veil habit. She’d probably have to wear her hair down for that to work. If Master took the time to design this with the Maker he’d want her to wear all of it. The dress robes followed the same flowing dimensions as her ceremonial robes. But it appeared there was also a form-fitting alternative, likely meant as an alternative to her Hunting garb. The Maker had a catalog of everyone’s proportions so it wasn’t hard to imagine how she fit it so well… And then there was the mask. Her original red detailing was compounded by regal gold design along some of its edges and the shape of it had changed to better suit the veil’s dimensions that would accompany it. She definitely would embody her station with these clothes. She turned to the Maker and bowed wordlessly, folding her dresses over her forearm as she made for the exit as quickly as possible. She needed time to think.