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12-31 24 CLE
New Year’s Eve
I vaguely remember the last time I wrote on this day. Only vaguely. Usually the memory would be sharp and crisp like the edge of a looming stalactite, but I think I’d unconsciously suppressed it within the confines of my head without my own knowledge or care. I didn’t want to remember the days where I was little more than a prisoner on an invisible chain who was fighting for a cause I had absolutely no interest in, but considering how different everything is now, it might be good to recollect and refollow the trail as best as I possibly can.
One thing I do remember, though, is that the start of 24 CLE started through blurry, tear-streaked vision; uncharacteristic for me. And it’s kind of ironic that it’s ending that way as well, but for the opposite reason. For nine months. Nine goddamn months, I was subconsciously holding my breath, and I’m kind of surprised it didn’t cause my innards to turn blue with the need for emotional oxygen.
Each day when I’d wake up and brace myself for my life to be snatched from me by an unknown grip without a second to cope, there was a sliver of hope. Hope that maybe this day was the end of my legacy as a champion. A legacy that I didn’t ask to be given.
And in September… my waiting finally paid off. Everything changed, the specifics of which even I still haven’t found the time to properly pry into, though honestly, I’m not even sure if that’s a tomb I’d ever even want to descend into again. With little to no real explanation, my freedom was granted and the summoning magic that had become the bane of my literal existence was disabled. After nearly four and a half years of being subjected to countless battles that did little to sway any goddamn part of any political movement, it was over.
I survived to see it.
I hadn’t realized until that very moment that my head had been submerged, and that first breath of freedom that I took brought me right back to the time I’d decided to go off on my own and discover my own passions and purpose without the interference of anyone else. The life that I’d been given that I held so dear to me was now back in the palm of my hand, and if I hadn’t been so shocked, I probably would have broken down in that dark hallway without a care in all of Valoran.
I don’t remember packing. I don’t remember pushing the double doors open for the final time. All I remember is the feel of the wind in my hair and my pulse in my throat as Piltover came into view, white towers glistening in the autumn sunlight as if made of ivory. I don’t think it had ever looked brighter on the horizon than it did that day, and that’s definitely an image that I’ll take with me for as long as I have left.
I don’t know what 25 CLE has in store for me, but I know I’m going to face it head on without an ounce of fear and without a map, just as I always have.
Now that the air is back in my lungs, the future...as well as the fireworks outside...have never before looked brighter.