Broomhead, Rise and Shine! (update)

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Deep within Zaun, in an abandoned temple.

"This is the place Jinx mentioned!"

Link stepped through the entrance, his eyes scanning the marble pillars and reliefs that stood in stark contrast to the industrial architecture of the Twin Cities.

This was the deepest part of Zaun, accessible only through old tunnels and ventilation shafts.

The air here was thick with industrial fumes, a byproduct of the city's relentless machinery.

Pushing through the dense smog, Link ventured further into the temple.

As he walked, he passed countless reliefs, all depicting figures with pointed ears, athletic builds, and scant clothing that barely covered their modesty.

In the lore, Zaun was once a port city of Shurima, known as Oshra Va'Zaun.

Though it was a port, it was considered a remote backwater within the vast empire of Shurima.

This very remoteness allowed Oshra Va'Zaun to survive the cataclysmic wars waged by the Ascended after the fall of Shurima's empire. Over time, it grew into an independent city-state.

The worship of Janna predated even Shurima's conquest of Oshra Va'Zaun. Back then, she was known as Jan'ahrem.

As time passed, her name was simplified to Janna.

Though not a true god, Janna was an ancient wind spirit whose status, bolstered by faith, placed her on par with beings like Volibear, Ornn, and Anivia.

In the lore of Runeterra, Janna is the guardian deity of Zaun, an indispensable figure in the city's spiritual life.

But—

Link's world followed the storyline of the Twin Cities, and whether Janna truly existed here was far from certain.

Following the passage deeper into the temple, Link eventually arrived in a grand hall.

Most of the stone pillars had collapsed, with only a few still supporting the dome above.

The most striking feature was the relief of Janna carved into the wall. She held a staff of wind aloft, surrounded by swirling breezes, her hair flowing, her eyes filled with compassion, and her form radiating sanctity.

The hall was dark and empty. Link approached the relief, removed his spider-like helmet, and studied the carving.

From his cloak, he pulled out a yellowed notebook and a turquoise amulet. The notebook contained Singed's research and notes on Janna, compiled during his desperate search for a way to save his daughter.

Faith had been one of the avenues Singed explored.

The notebook detailed various accounts of Janna's miracles, mostly from miners who claimed that during cave-ins, a bluebird had brought them fresh air, allowing them to survive until rescue arrived.

There were also stories of struggling apprentices who claimed Janna had helped them through their darkest times.

The most outrageous claim came from someone who declared themselves the reincarnation of Janna, though it was later proven to be a scam.

After flipping through the notebook, Link examined the amulet.

The front bore the relief of a bluebird riding the wind, while the back depicted a swirling vortex.

Comparing the vortex to the wind symbol on Janna's staff, Link nodded.

"It seems the faith in Janna does exist in Zaun."

But whether Janna herself still existed was another matter.

The last recorded miracle attributed to Janna occurred twenty-six years ago. Over two decades of neglect had all but erased her following.

As a being sustained by faith, Janna's existence was uncertain after so long without worship or offerings.

Link placed his helmet and notebook on the stone altar, then took out an incense burner and sticks he had borrowed from Singed.

After arranging the burner and lighting the incense, he bowed his head, clutching the bluebird amulet, and began to pray.

"Bluebird who soars freely through the mist, please guide my path!"

He paused, lifting his head, but the only response was the echo of his own voice in the empty hall.

"Guardian of Zaun, embodiment of the winds of change, I pray to you as a devout follower. Please guide my way!"

Again, only echoes answered him.

"I offer my body, my soul. I vow that even in death, my spirit will ride the winds. Wind spirit, heed my call!"

Still, nothing.

"When the wind comes, I will hold my breath and feel the fury of the storm. Please answer my call, Fury of the Storm!"

The echoes of his voice bounced off the walls, but no response came.

Link looked up at the relief of Janna.

Her gaze was fixed on the void, radiating an ineffable divinity.

"Does Janna truly not exist, or am I doing this wrong?"

Link ran his fingers over the bluebird amulet. Gods undeniably existed in Runeterra—from the distant Mount Targon to the lawless shores of Bilgewater.

So why was there no response?

"Has Janna fallen into slumber due to the lack of faith, or is my method flawed?"

Link stared at the amulet, his mind racing.

After a moment, he decided to try something bold.

"First, I need to visualize Janna's form clearly in my mind."

He pictured her—flowing hair, graceful figure, compassionate eyes, and a bluebird by her side.

"Then, I need to reinforce that image, engraving it deeply into my memory."

He focused on the image, embedding it firmly in his mind.

"Finally, I'll use her true name to provoke a response."

Taking a deep breath, Link shouted with all his might.

"Jan'ahrem, you wind-swept, bed-headed goddess! Wake up and join the party!!!"

His voice echoed through the hall, but the space remained dark and still. The air flowed as calmly as before, and the echoes of his shout bounced around the chamber before fading into silence.

Link waited patiently for a response, but after ten seconds, there was nothing.

With a sigh, he crossed Janna off his list of potential allies.

"Looks like the bed-headed goddess is truly gone."

"Guess I'll have to find another way."

He glanced at the bluebird amulet, then moved to place it on the altar.

But just as he was about to set it down, he noticed the pages of his notebook trembling, as if an invisible hand were flipping through them.

One by one, the pages rustled, and Link's ears perked up.

He heard the wind—

A gentle breeze swirling around him, growing stronger, rushing upward.

Following the sound, Link looked up to see a translucent bluebird materializing out of thin air.

The bird was small and delicate, its feathers finely detailed, its eyes like clear gemstones.

But—

Why did it look so angry?

Its gaze was filled with fury, resentment, and a deep, groggy irritation.

Before Link could react, the bluebird dove like a meteor, slamming into his forehead with a sharp peck.

"You insolent fool!!!"

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