The moonlight spills over the jagged peaks of Mount Targon, bathing the world in a silver glow. Diana stands at the summit, her crescent blade gleaming faintly in the pale light. Her armor—etched with lunar runes and adorned with shards of obsidian—catches the wind, its edges sharp as her resolve. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howl, their cries echoing through the mountains like a lament. Diana closes her eyes, letting the cool night air wash over her. She feels the pull of the moon, its power coursing through her veins like a second heartbeat.
Long before the League of Legends, before the summoners bound her essence to the Rift, Diana was a child of the Solari—a sect of Rakkorans who worshipped the sun as the ultimate source of life and order. The Solari were a proud and rigid people, their beliefs rooted in centuries of tradition. They saw the sun as a symbol of purity, strength, and divine will, and they revered it above all else. To question the sun’s supremacy was to invite exile—or worse.
Diana grew up in this world of devotion, surrounded by rituals and hymns that praised the dawn. Her parents were devout followers of the Solari, their lives dedicated to maintaining the sacred temples that dotted Mount Targon’s slopes. From a young age, Diana was taught to revere the sun, to see its light as the guiding force of existence. But even as a child, she felt… different.
While others basked in the warmth of daylight, Diana found herself drawn to the night. She would sneak out of the temple after sunset, climbing to the highest vantage points she could find. There, under the watchful gaze of the moon, she felt a sense of peace that eluded her during the day. The stars seemed to whisper secrets to her, their light cold but comforting. She began to question the Solari’s teachings—not out of rebellion, but out of curiosity.
Her doubts deepened when she discovered an ancient artifact hidden in the temple archives—a crescent-shaped blade encrusted with lunar glyphs. The blade radiated a strange energy, its surface shimmering like liquid silver. When Diana touched it, visions flooded her mind—images of a forgotten age, of beings who drew their power not from the sun, but from the moon. These beings called themselves the Lunari, worshippers of the celestial body that ruled the night.
The Solari had long regarded the Lunari as heretics, their teachings suppressed and their artifacts destroyed. But Diana saw beauty in their beliefs. The moon, though distant and cold, was constant—a silent guardian that watched over the world when the sun retreated. She began to study the blade in secret, piecing together fragments of Lunari lore from forbidden texts and whispered legends.
Her research did not go unnoticed. One night, as she pored over an ancient scroll, she was confronted by Leona, the Radiant Dawn. Leona was a paragon of the Solari, her golden armor and fiery demeanor embodying everything the sect stood for. She had been like a sister to Diana, their bond forged through years of shared training and camaraderie. But now, Leona’s expression was one of betrayal.
“You dishonor everything we stand for,” Leona said, her voice trembling with anger. “The moon is a relic of superstition, a shadow cast by the sun’s glory.”
Diana met her gaze, her own eyes blazing with defiance. “The moon is not a shadow. It is a light unto itself—one you refuse to see.”
Their argument escalated into a confrontation. Diana wielded the crescent blade, its edge glowing with lunar energy, while Leona summoned the power of the sun, her shield blazing with radiant fire. The clash between them shook the temple, their strikes reverberating like thunder. In the end, Diana emerged victorious, though the victory left her heart heavy.
Leona lay defeated, her armor scorched and her face streaked with ash. “You are lost,” she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow.
“No,” Diana replied, her tone firm but tinged with regret. “I am found.”
With those words, Diana turned her back on the Solari and ventured into the wilderness. She sought answers, traveling to forgotten ruins and desolate valleys in search of traces of the Lunari. Along the way, she encountered Pantheon, the Artisan of War, another Rakkoran warrior who had once fought alongside her. Pantheon was a man of few words, his focus solely on combat and survival. Yet he recognized something in Diana—a kindred spirit driven by purpose rather than glory.
“You walk a lonely path,” Pantheon observed during one encounter, his spear resting against his shoulder.
“All paths worth walking are lonely,” Diana replied, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
Pantheon nodded, offering no further comment. Their interactions were brief but meaningful, each exchange reinforcing Diana’s determination to uncover the truth.
As her journey continued, Diana discovered more about the Lunari’s history. They were not merely worshippers of the moon; they were guardians of balance, believing that the sun and moon were two halves of a greater whole. The Solari’s rejection of the moon had disrupted this equilibrium, leaving the world vulnerable to chaos and decay. Diana realized that her mission was not just personal—it was cosmic. She had to restore the balance, even if it meant challenging the very foundations of her former faith.
The League of Legends offered Diana a new stage—a battlefield where she could test her strength and spread her message. On the Rift, she faced opponents who challenged her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Some, like Morgana, the Fallen Angel, wielded dark magic that resonated with her own powers. Others, like Zoe, the Aspect of Twilight, embodied chaos and unpredictability, their movements fluid and whimsical.
But no opponent tested Diana quite like Aurelion Sol, the Star Forger. Aurelion Sol represented the cosmos itself, his flames birthing galaxies and consuming worlds. Their clashes were epic, each strike shaking the stars themselves.
“You cling to a fragment of the sky,” Aurelion Sol rumbled during one encounter, his voice echoing like collapsing constellations.
“And you are blinded by your own brilliance,” Diana retorted, her blade slicing through his comet.
Their battles often ended in stalemates, neither able to fully overcome the other. Yet despite their differences, there was a mutual respect between them—a recognition of the vastness of the universe and the insignificance of individual struggles within it.
Back in the wilds of Mount Targon, Diana continued her quest for knowledge, delving deeper into the mysteries of the moon. She clashed with Zoe, whose playful demeanor masked a profound connection to celestial forces. Zoe teased Diana relentlessly, calling her “Moon Girl” and mocking her seriousness.
“You’re so serious!” Zoe chirped during one encounter, summoning portals to dodge Diana’s strikes. “Even the stars dance, you know.”
Diana’s reply was a surge of lunar energy that shattered one of Zoe’s illusions. “The stars may dance, but the moon endures.”
Zoe giggled, vanishing into a portal. “Endurance is boring.”
Despite their differences, Zoe’s antics forced Diana to confront her own rigidity. While she valued discipline and purpose, she began to see the value in adaptability and spontaneity.
In quiet moments, Diana reflects on the nature of her journey. She has faced countless adversaries, survived numerous close calls, and uncovered truths that once seemed impossible. Yet she knows that her mission is far from complete. The balance between sun and moon remains fragile, its restoration requiring sacrifices she is still learning to accept.
She climbs to the summit of Mount Targon, her crescent blade resting against her shoulder. The moon hangs low in the sky, its light casting long shadows across the landscape. Below her, the world stretches out, vast and vibrant, its promise intertwined with its perils.
Balance will prevail.
One step at a time.