Jhin, the Virtuoso
How an artist is born
«After he has beated me with
his bare hands, that disgusting son of a bitch derided me for longer than I
want to remember. Did I just said “son of
a bitch”? Damn, what an inappropriate language. It’s really inopportune
that an artist expresses himself in this vulgar way.
However you should try to
understand: it was not easy for me. He had disfigured my face! Humiliated me!
It might seem a banal story, but the wounds of the soul are those that cause
the greatest upheavals in the life of a man.
As a result I ran away, but I
never forgot the smile of that man. I saw it every night in the stars, in the
flames of the fires, even between the wooden planks of the squalid hovel where
I slept. Did you noticed that I spoke to the past? “I saw it”, I said. Because now, at last, I'm free.»
Jhin moved with dancing steps, spinning
elegantly on the small stage. Next to him were mounted iron bars according to
an abstract and incomprehensible logic. All seats in the front row downstairs
were occupied by corpses that looked at him with glassy eyes. The only woman
alive, bound and gagged, was wriggling to try to break free from the ropes that
immobilized her against the metal sculpture.
«My lady, please contain
yourself. The spectators, all your relatives, have their eyes on us. We have to
capture the audience!»
Vigorously beaten a heel on the
hard wood, the man twirled masterfully to the opposite side of the stage. He
stopped next to a crimson tent and continued to tell his story.
«Free, at last! I slaughtered
the blacksmith who was hosting me and his entire family, and I laid their
bodies around the forge. With hooks of steel blessed in fire I took out the
memory of that grin from my mind. I shaped it, and what had always been just a
fatal torment became something real. A mask. This mask! In that moment a new me
was born. A part of my consciousness, dormant under loneliness and
dissatisfaction, awoke.
Since then I travelled through
Valoran. I would have perfected my art at all costs! Nothing would have stopped
me. Or so I thought.»
The last sentence was barely
perceptible. A slow whisper, as Jhin knelt, stroking with his hand the mask he
wore. Then, silence.
For a few moments the imprisoned
woman was enchanted by the performance, but as soon as her muffled cry broke
the silence, Jhin stood up and fired upward, destroying two rudimentary
illuminators which were scattering with light the stage.
«SILENCE!»
He sighed up to calm down, then
he apologized for having raised his voice.
«Have not hurry to die, my lady.
The show is only at half right. I would ask, rather, to accompany the
continuation of the narration with some sobs and strangled moans. Here it is,
the second act: the drama!»
Down lights, the desperate woman
was crying, forced to take part in that grotesque spectacle. The masked main
character was back to master the scene.
«I would have never believed
that scarring on my face would have been the most insignificant of the
sufferings. In Demacia I lost my legs. Attempting to escape a violent and
uncouth brute, I was distracted by the wonderful sound of a stringed instrument
and fell awkwardly from a balcony. Years later, in Piltover, a brutal woman
engaged me in a savage melee fight and there I lost my right arm.
Since then I was segregated
into the cells of this city. Isolated. Persecuted from ignominy for my actions.
Treated like a monster, just because those who held power were barbaric and
uneducated, unable to understand the beauty of murder.
Nevertheless, some Muse kissed
the powerful men of Ionia. They managed to take me back in my homeland, and
after many years they freed me, they cured me; then have been commissioned some
works that I realized, I am almost ashamed to say it, with supreme genius.
The first was an old friend,
the one to whom I still give credit for my new face. I found I was more like
him than I thought possible, since he also wore a mask.
Then I headed to the man who
had captured me years ago, although I must admit to have been approximately in
this second work. I'm ashamed, but perfection is arduous to achieve. I had to
be short on creativity, because I had honoured my art with the beautiful maiden
who had made me listen to her notes. Even though I had not been ordered, I
would say that I was very inspired that day.
Finally, my lady, it was
indicated your family. I do not know what business you had with Ionia, but what
does it matter whether I can abandon myself to the pleasure of art? Moreover in
this city I have destroyed the tools that have taken my arm, leaving the woman
who wore them to bleed to death. A friend tried to save her, but I don’t think
she could make it judging by how she cried.»
Jhin fired two more shots. The theatre
was flooded by darkness. Only a beam of milky light descended diagonally from a
window on the ceiling, illuminating the face of the terrified woman tied to the
iron bars.
«I am a master in my art. What
I do is the proof» he said, freeing her mouth.
Then she began to scream: «Help!
Somebody help me! He wants to kill me! Save me!» she squealed.
«You do not understand. None of
you see the roses that bloom between the blood and the tears, nor the graceful
butterflies that travel on the wind exhaled by a last breath. You do not see
and so do not understand.
I'm here to spread beauty.
Because artist is only those
who can make from a solution an enigma.»
Bowed to the audience, and not
another word. The cries of the woman were cheerings, a thunderous clapping after
his performance. Jhin came down from the stage and walked down the narrow
central nave, heading for the main door opened onto the deserted street. He
disappeared into the darkness, leaving the woman with moans and sobs.
When a blanket of clouds covered
the moon and in the theatre reigned an unchallenged deep obscurity, the
deafening sound of a powerful rifle vibrated in the night.
«A rose, though hidden in
darkness, it will always be beautiful.
Until they stop me, my work
will continue. I have no choice.»
Nice work man :)
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