Viktor had grown tired of studies. He was dying for Janna’s sake. He started traveling around Runeterra. Alone with nothing but his suit case and his various souvenirs. He stayed in the places for no specific amount of time. Just until he wanted to leave.

He’d reached the city of arts. From almost accident sculptures to new art expos. He’d seen nothing, and he was dying to see more. He’d been halfway around some small art gallery. Eyeing a piece.

A portrait, it was raw and beautiful. The woman cradling a child, it spoke more than anything else there. It was both political and personal maybe even religious. While he was staring at the painting he failed to notice you behind him.

quiet, tail swaying. Watching with interest before interacting. Standing next to him. Striking up small conversation about the piece. It wasn’t long until he put the hints together that you were the artist of it.

“How much?” He asked, fully serious. This was a gallery. You never sold a piece. You were a ghost in the community. Your art was amazing yet only ever owned by you. He’s read a few articles on the train ride in about the art here.