A rush, elation, ecstasy, perfection. So many words to describe how he felt. But They all seemed to fall short of the man’s sensations, it was killing that made him whole. It was death in bloom that showed true beauty, it was his talents that brought forth works of art. Each bullet he placed sung in the air, the vibrations sent chills through the man’s frame.

...

A few minutes earlier

The performer was close now, he sat in a tower that overlooked the small city below, it had been a while since he had been in Ionia. The beginnings of spring was just over the horizon. The start of new life after the season of death, it was not that Jhin did not love to see the wilted flowers, and fallen leaves. He simply enjoyed the death of people, and the composition was always completed by living flowers. He saw beauty in death, but also hated to see something beautiful fall into drab colours and a frail state. As the small stage-play the townsfolk had set up was coming to an end Jhin mirthfully reflected, ’Cute, pathetic in quality but an artist must start somewhere, not everyone can get away with being as talented as me. They’ll just have to settle for being my audience’s warm up.’

The artist could not help but smirk, his clients had sent him here to kill the host of the black market auction that was near by, he could see his sight lines now. The assassin was practically a master tactician the way he planned his victim’s moves. All of it planned to a detail. Not many could bring in a possibility he had not thought of, when it did happen it was exiting. Especially when they couldn’t stop his work regardless.

The man began to hum a tune to himself, a melody formed, it repeated in a circle before he varied the form through whistling. A chuckled escaped his lips after a moment, under his mask his lips formed a smile that could be interpreted as amused. His mask, a white face and detailed piece of art. It’s non-uniformity was interesting to look at to say the least. Behind the mask was his left eye, its iris brown, while the right side of his mask showed only dark fabric beneath.

And the rest could be said for his outfit: white, gold, unsymmetrical. All of these were quite apt descriptions, his torso was cloaked in a poncho like garb, though to compare the two garments was blasphemous. It sat on his shoulders, with a green fastened gem that sat just below his red collar. A large angular bump was present on his right shoulder. This too was covered by the garment in question, and below the bump was his arm. Golden, the the entirety of his arm was in armor.

His left held a small shoulder plate of the same gold. As for the the arm, it was bare of anything but a thin black leather cover, it ran over his forearm and first finger. The rest of his hand remained bare, as the man finished his humming the fingers on his right hand stopped their nearly silent rhythm on his waist. From the waist and below was dark blue cloth which cover his legs to the knees, there more armor that covered the rest of his legs went forth. The boots were rather unique, it was a heeled set of foot wear. Though the uniqueness was present from the large toe, as if a sandal was made for a prosthetic.

But the true eye catchers weren't just his mask and golden armor, the gun was a very interesting piece. White stock connected to a short barreled pistol, on his hip a long thin detachable barrel. Its name was Whisper, a true marvel of craftsmanship. The Virtuoso's mark was carved into Whisper and emblazoned onto the shoulder bump's clothe. Four arrows pointing up with only half the tip for each, as the half spear heads faced outward.

Jhin could feel it now, the anticipation was building in his body. Slowly he removed the barrel from his hip and began to almost methodically attach it to his gun. Jhin then began to walk to the edge of the tower, he crouched and looked down the sights of his now rifle. The artist steadied his breathe, deep and relaxed inhales and exhales. "One two three four, two two three four." The man quietly spoke, a whisper to himself and the wind. As if on some sort timer the building that Jhin was pointed at seemed to have all of its attendees spill forth from the confines of its halls. His breathing quickened a slight degree, as he watched a group of three people all moved in unison all walked with a short fat man in the middle, this far away Jhin could just barley see the panic on the criminal's face. The people that poured from the building were screaming and in shock. Men and women were attempting to escape the supposed horror if their cries were anything to go by. As the short and clearly rich man looked around with his two body guards by his sides he smiled, confident in his new safty.

A crack of thunder caused the people in the street to stop and look at the sky, before someone screamed and they all looked in one spot. Their stocky host who had fled from the building with them was on the ground. But the true reason was that, where his head once was, now stood an empty space. The ground covered in a picture, yes, a picture. The golden blood, yes, golden blood formed a splatter that formed a flower on the ground. But it was soon covered by a wave of fresh paint, the gold filled the street. No one had time for a second scream though, just then another shot sounded. One of the man's body guards who had been gaping at their boss' death joined him in the dirt. The third man snapped out of his stupor, he began to turn from his companions bodies to run only to feel a pain in his back. The third clap of thunder roared in an echo. Blue and red blood mixed into a whirlpool of purple, and the colours met with the gold. As the colours and shades mixed it produced a beautiful mess of forms. People began to flee again screaming, the people that had not fainted that is, or thrown up.

Jhin took in one last breath before he pulled the trigger again as he exhaled. The bullet traveled farther and faster than the others, its hum was louder, and seemed to glow blue. The building responded to the shot to its confines by exploding, the flames were a varied cloud of light. A grin was hidden below the mask, but it was obvious by the look in the assassin's eye. His performance was complete, now to leave the stage after the carton's fall. The flames consumed the building, its walls fell in on its self after the weight became to much.

As Jhin left the city in chaos he grinned, they were like puppets he made dance. After planting a bomb on one of the items to go off after it was relieved on stage the people fled to his waiting arms, where his art could be seen. That was the true reason, he could have easily entered and discreetly slipped past the guards to work, but there was such a small audience in there. He did however plant bombs to be destroyed when shot in the right spot. While his clients were likely to be unhappy with his public spectacle, they would be pleased with the complete destruction of the goods his victim possessed. None of his colleagues could salvage them after he was dead.

Just as Jhin entered his hideout he relaxed, he covered the entrance to this abandoned ruin, a rarity in Ionia. The walls were lined with murals depicting various scenes of death. It was an old temple to the spirits of the Kindred, the roof was partially open to the sky, moonlight formed beams of sublime lines. It was almost like a spotlight on a stage, Jhin smiled at the thought. His work was dedicated to death, it was the single most beautiful thing in the world. Whoever had built this temple had clearly shared his reverence to the concept's importance, after all the end was important in all things, why would death not be important. More often then not Jhin had introduced his victims to the wolf, few if any had resigned themselves to his work. They weren't willing merely accepting that there was no escape from his bullet. The quiet mercy kill of Lamb's arrow and the viscous chase of Wolf, apt metaphors, one that had differed through the cultures but a omnipresent one none the less.

Jhin set down his equipment and moved over to his resting place in a dark corner of the temple. He would have to camp here for the night before he moved on. He laid down and closed his eye, the quiet quite soothing after his artistry.

...

Jhin awoke, he felt sluggish, like he was walking through water. His arms felt like they weren't responding. But all of this was quickly over shadowed by what was in his surroundings. His was still in the temple but there was a visitor, or perhaps visitors was more apt. There was two of them after all. One stood on one leg and the other floated in the air, white and black the pair seemed to both mirror and oppose the other. The kindred, Jhin stood slowly it felt like he had been drugged. Judging on his efforts and what he was seeing, that might have been true. Each wore the mask of the other, their eyes a ghostly blue flame, Wolf a floating head with cruel teeth and a dark coat of wispy fur. Lamb, a whited furred bipedal creature with intricate bow.

The Wolf spoke first, “What is this one Lamb?” the voice was gravelly and harsh, a curious tone behind the floating head’s question.

“A man in a mask devoted to death, he has hunted by our side many times. It reminds me of someone we knew.” a stark contrast to the Wolf snarls was the gentle almost melodically pleasing voice of the Lamb. The huntress moved to two feet and slowly walked over to the man. The bow set in her left hand, Wolf followed close as he began to circle the artisan with hunger and interest.

The performer was speechless, caught without a script, a deep silence was his only reply. “Yes! A very lonely man he was till he got a friend. But what of chasing and biting, what shall we do Lamb? Can I chase it?” if he had not known better Jhin would have assumed Wolf was a child asking he mother for some candy.

“I do not know Wolf, we shall see. Your time has come, so tell us. What do you choose? My arrow?” her flowing voice was quickly responded to by Wolf’s.

“Or the Chase!” the spirit gazed at the man with both sets of its eyes. Jhin, who’s mind and senses seemed to have steadied looked between them, his mind went a mile a minute. A thousand thoughts and ideas, reject it? He couldn’t just let his art stop here! But he was no fool, few who met the kindred lived to tell of it. Even then, most thought those who did were insane. Not that, that madness was an issue. After all, all artists are mad. However, if it was his time, no matter the reason. Should it not be beautiful?

But how? He had not the time to set the stage for his big performance!! The man sighed internally, ‘Its so difficult to work under these conditions.’ Truly his work to set up the most important moment of a person’s life in a artful way, was something to be grateful for, he really couldn’t understand why he never received any thanks. So he had to accept it, but how could he do so, as to make his death worthy of his talent? Then a thought struck him, a phrase he had uttered to many of his puppets. A grin was hidden beneath his mask, the man walked in strides toward the spirit. Wolf’s exited growls broke the complete silence and Jhin stopped a few feet in front of the pair. From there the performer noted the Lamb’s bow in her left hand, he offered his right golden armored hand with his palm upward. “Shall we dance?”

Wolf’s growls halted in confusion, Lamb tilted her mask. “What is your choice?”

“Death, is certain, but it doesn't have to be ugly. I will go willingly, but I can not think of a more poetic or classic end then a dance with death. However I hope you don’t mind if I take it literally. To simply keel over would be droll, but I hope you understand my request enough to grant it.” Wolf huffed at the words ‘go willingly’. The childish side of the spirit was rather miffed it didn’t get its chase.

“We have never had prey like you before,” Lamb spoke, “I fear I do not know how to ‘dance’ s-“ without another word before she decided to simply fire her arrow Jhin moved and grabbed her hand. The pair tensed but Jhin dragged the spirit along to the center of the temple. The moon still shown through and they were now in the spotlight of the night. Wolf circled the pair of bipeds curiously.

“Not to worry, I have made many dance. I can teach you, you will do beautifully, I swear.” the man was so caught up in the moment he barely noticed the bow fade from Lambs hands. His right joined with her left, his left moved to rest on her right shoulder. They began to slowly twirl in a almost clumsy fashion, “One two three four, two two three four.” The man set a rhythm and beat with his steps and words, it was then that Jhin began to hum. Soon after Lamb added her own voice along side his, the pair took turns humming. Their steps were smoother now, even wolf spun around with them. Jhin quickened the pace silently, the man moved his left arm from the spirit and used his hold on her right to have her spin on her own before he linked both of his hands with hers and the two swung their arms behind themselves in a dual spin. After that they linked their left hands and circled the other moving closer to the other. It may have not been long but after they reached a hands length Jhin spoke, “How lovely! Sublime performance my dear. But if I am not mistaken it is time for the finale.”

“Yes, we have spent long enough to humour you,” the dance partners separated.

“Death should never be quick, it should be an opera.” the spirit merely remained silent, the bow returned. A question was about to form in Jhin’s mouth before before he felt it. He hadn’t see her shoot him but the white arrow the stuck out of his chest was undeniably there. A laugh escaped his lips and he felt the strength sap from his limbs, as his last action he bowed. His left arm over his chest the right extended out. His vision went dark.

Author's Note

If you couldn't tell by my icon, Jhin is my favourite character. I had to write a story about him.