Everyone was gone.
Leona planted her sword in the ground and forced herself to stand up, struggling against the weight of her Ra-Horak armor. The last thing she remembered was a sense of blinding rage, as she saw that ashen-haired woman spew her heresy to the Elders. The troublemaker had gone missing months ago, and - despite everyone's wishes - had returned. Leona bore the burden of bringing her to the Elders for questioning, so she performed her duty.
The Ra-Horak stood up as she finally regained her senses, taking control of her body after it was carelessly tossed out of the Elders' chamber. She stepped inside, and felt a chill run down her spine. She was confronted with nothing but ash. The remains of the Elders - the venerated leaders of her people, burned away by unholy fire in the blink of an eye.
It was the heretic's doing. The vile woman screamed blasphemy to the Elders from the moment she entered the chamber, babbling about an ancient race of "Lunari," who practiced some kind of moon worship. When the Elders wisely ignored her blasphemy, the heretic lunged at them, spawning orbs of wretched silver around her body that burned the Holy leaders away. White flames engulfed the chamber, and Leona felt some kind of overwhelming force push her outside, where she slammed into the floor and lost consciousness.
The Solari were leaderless, now. The perpetrator fled the scene, leaving Leona to mourn alone. The Ra-Horak sheathed her sword, and turned around, feeling an unconquerable rage build up within her. Now was not the time for mourning. The heretic had left a trail - footprints, marked by the residual ash of the Solari leadership. Leona knew that she had to exact revenge. This troublemaker - this monster, who lived among Leona's people for years, only to return and commit the most egregious sin - must be taught the consequences of her actions.
Diana will feel the unquenchable fire of a Ra-Horak's retribution.
The trail led Leona up Mount Targon. She passed great horrors and beauties as she ascended the mountain - things that adventurers and pilgrims before her may have succumbed to, in their vain attempts to climb to Targon's sacred peak. Countless people before Leona had tried to climb this mountain - for glory, for power, even just to gaze upon the Divine - but they fell. Their resolve was not enough.
To Leona, climbing the mountain was not the goal. Every step up Targon was fueled not by glory, not by a search for power, but by a simple fact: She must follow the trail. For whatever reason, the heretic sought solace from the Divine, and ascended the mountain. Surely, there was no Holy spirit on this mountain that would assist the heretic. Leona let out a chuckle as she considered the fate of her quarry. What would conquer Diana first? The trials of the mountain, the judgement of the Divine, or the vengeful blade that Leona carried?
Days passed. Weeks. She wasn't sure. She didn't care. The trail continued. Leona had no food left. No water. Battered by the conditions of the mountain, the Holy warrior continued her ascent, unfaltering. In her heart and mind burned the images of her Elders. They were good people - human beings, who wanted nothing but to make life better for the Solari, and help them worship and prosper in peace. If Leona fell, she risked letting Diana free. She was the hand of the Elders - the sword and shield of the people of Mount Targon - this transgression would not be allowed to pass, even if Leona starved to death in the process. Death would have to wait until Diana was at the Ra-Horak's sword.
Until then, Leona invited the mountain to break itself upon her.
As she approached the top of Targon, Leona saw something extraordinary. A golden-skinned boy, sporting horns and some kind of bat-wings, was sat at the peak of the mountain, as if a herald of the Divine itself. Leona had seen the boy once, in her adolescence. It was this child who led to the Ra-Horak's journey from the Rakkor tribe to the Solari in the first place.
"I've been waiting for you to follow me up here! It's been a while, you know." the boy said in the old Rakkor language, his face bearing a quizzical look as he stared down at the battered, starving woman.
Leona squinted at him, her mouth agape as she took in his image. The warrior had absolutely no idea what to make of him. Was he a mirage? A trick of the mountain, to lead her astray as she chased down the heretic? She began to continue her climb. No time could be wasted. Diana was still ahead of her, somewhere. She had reached the peak, but there was still a trail. Where could she have gone?
The boy stepped in front of her, and continued speaking.
"Oooh, I hope you're not too late! I've been waiting for so long…"
He held out his hand, now, staring down at Leona expectantly. Leona just glared back at him, again. She was dumbstruck. Sighing, she brought her hand out and took the boy's - which, to her surprise, was very real.
A beam of light rained down from the sky, nearly blinding Leona with its radiance. The boy led her inside, and the Ra-Horak felt divine salvation wash over her. Her wounds started to heal - the ache in her stomach faded, and she felt a renewed vigor course through her veins. Streams of light started to wave through the sky, creating a borealis of radiance that bathed all of Targon in a beauty that was impossible to ignore.
Leona fell to her knees, and basked in the glow. The Solari temple out in the horizon lit like a beacon, as if it knew that a new era was dawning. The boy let go of the warrior's hand and watched, his face lighting up in unbridled glee.
"You weren't too late! We finally found you, and.. And you're here! It's going to be alright, just.. Just stay calm, and.." He cleared his throat, and took a step back. "You… You seem to be handling this pretty well. I'll just.. Leave you two to it, huh?"
The boy chuckled, and disappeared. As Leona's body was repaired, she felt the world around her expand. Her understanding - those preconceived notions and firmly held beliefs - were quite forcefully broadened, as if another consciousness entirely was being tied to her own. Leona still held firm to the convictions of her forefathers - in fact, those deeply held beliefs that defined her were only strengthened. Her resolve, and her sense of reverence only found new strength when bathed in the radiance of the Sun.
Leona knew now, however, that there was more. Horrible and beautiful truths lay beyond Targon - even in the past of the mountain she called home, there was history that she never knew about. People and cultures that came and went, and powers lingering along the cliffs and plains of Targon that she could barely understand.
The light faded, and Leona stood up. Her sword and shield were wiped away by the Sun's radiance, and replaced with new versions - ornate relics, flawless in both form and function. She cast her eyes out to the horizon, and kneeled down to appraise the trail once more.
The Sun offered her clarity. She knew things now - ancient things, hidden away from the people of Targon. There was only one person on this mountain that she could speak to about this. There was so much left to do. So little time. She needed the heretic.. Diana. As much as rage burned in her heart for the actions of the ashen-haired blasphemer, the Sun had offered her a Divine mandate. She understood now that there was something coming. Something important.
Now more than ever, Leona knew she had to find Diana. The fate of Targon - and, perhaps, of all Runeterra, could depend on it.