The Fall of an Idol
As the sun nearly finishes setting over the horizon, she looks out at the audience waiting for her concert to start. The once-bustling stadium now quite somber as not even half of the seats could find occupants to sit in them. To think, it had been not too long ago that they would sell out months in advance, even ticket scalpers had to buy from other scalpers.
However, the death of Lestara has begun to hang over her conscience once again and it has affected her severely. She used to be able to strum away non-stop, it's now the best she can muster just to play a few short pieces rather in-frequently. Even then, her willpower so shattered by the ghosts of her past, every note comes out in a pianissimo at its very best and the emotion of the music can nary be felt anymore. Even her allies were unable to hear any inspiration from the songs that once flooded the entire battlefield.
She can feel her depression growing, just as strongly has the fans that abandoned her already came to realize. It even became apparent in her attire, too ashamed to wear the fine silken fabrics Lestara constantly gifted her. She closeted the luxurious dresses at home and resorted to cheap knock-offs hoping the crowd wouldn't notice, but in reality she knows they do. The symbiotic relationship even affects the Etwahl, its brilliant glow has faded and the intricate designs have disappeared into flat solid color.
With the final rays of sunset finally gone, darkness weighs heavy on her heart as she wonders how much longer she'll be allowed to perform even in this small Demacian concert-hall. Every other city-state already cancelled their appearances and even tonight's performance was moved out of the main arena in favor of Ahri's newest pop-star hit. Even she herself wishes she were at that concert instead, but she's not willing to abandon these few fans who still chose to show up. The most faithful amongst her followers, paupers who could never afford nose-bleed seats or just people who couldn't make it to the Ahri concert and had nowhere else to be tonight.
She slowly walks out onto stage clutching a postcard she'd just received from Mordekaiser reading, "Good Luck, Hang in There!" She knows deep-down that if something doesn't happen soon, mayhaps the Institute of War having to intervene and save her once again, this might very well be one of her last shows.
