The fields of justice lay charred and broken, the league of legends sundered, and debris lay in forsaken ruins around grounds once decorated with the might of nations. The machines of science and great magic that had formerly transfigured the raw energy of Valoran lay rent, cold and grey, mere shadows of what they had been. Even the nexus, once privy to the touch of the powerful, now served as a home to the fauna of Frejord. The treaty of the league of legends had been once celebrated as a triumph of brutal diplomacy, a compromise between nations cowed by the possibility of another Rune War. Sickened by the lives he had to take, the life of his father that was taken, and faced with the threat of a Rune War brought on by increasingly violent border confrontations, the Lightshield, backed by the might of Demacia, rolled the dice for peace, and strongarmed the nations of Valoran into submission.
The prince, with the wealth of Demacian gold, had gathered the brightest legal minds that Valoran had to offer in order to craft a treaty that would bring an end to the Rune War that he knew would come. The framework formed had called for a neutral field whereby champions from each nation would be selected to do individual battle with each other, with the interest of his sovereign as prize. A neutral leadership of magician elites, each drawn from the major powers of Valoran, would be conscripted to oversee the bureaucracy of the neutral fields – the league of legends. To retain the image of neutrality, the governing magicians would be forced to renounce any former allegiance, be it political or familial. In return, they would be given complete jurisdiction over the league; an absolute separation of powers.
Bandlecity, Ionia, Piltover and Targon – long-time confederates of Demacia bound by centuries of trade and diplomatic ties, had been quick to add their names to the treaty, The Noxians and her allied nations had resisted initially – understandably – for their ideological hatred of Demacian ideals ran in the centuries. In reply, the Crownguards were sent, emissaries filled with the uncompromising words of the Lightshield: Sign, or the children of your people will not be alive to see war. I will see peace in my reign, even if the world should burn. The Noxian high command had railed for a time, with the Black Rose and the house of Du Courteau spearheading the call for violent retaliation. For days, Valoran trembled at the precipice of a Rune War as the two superpowers readied their allies and their might. Finally, the Noxian Grand General, Swain, a man of implacable humours, had closed his eyes, and sighed.
"I will sign, for I am sick of death and will not be responsible for the death of this world."
And so, despite the oceans of blood shed by untold generations of unnamed heroes, open conflict in Valoran was ended with the flourish of pen over paper. During the early days of the treaty, the magicians had condemned their conscription with ruthless vigour, but even they had eventually accepted their lot – the alternative was to go against the might of the Lightshield, and none was willing test the mettle of the Demacian. However, the relative peace that followed the inception of the league of legends was a peace enshrined in policies of mutual destruction, and the unresolved rivalries of old still ran deep. This viciousness found its way into the combat of the ironically named fields of justice, where warriors, turned bitter by years of fighting, fought savagely, their memories untouched by treaty.
However, the peace endured, and hidden by the trappings of time, even the bitterest of memories had to fade. The years passed, and peace began to lull the populace into complacency – the conflicts in the fields of justice quickly became a popular spectator spot, and a thriving black market rose around the victories of individual champions. Some of the warriors, naturally, rose to fame. Grandmaster Jax, Warwick of Zaun, and even the Lightshield were names the people flourished, diplomacy reigned, and the treaty of the league of legends ushered in a golden age of peace – the ocean of blood spilled by the armies of the past replaced with the souls of individual champions.
The Demacian diplomats had even successfully arranged a meeting between Swain and the Lightshield in a bid to ease relations between the two superpowers – a historic meeting ripe with potential to alter the flow of power in Valoran.
For the first time in centuries, the citizenry was able to see beyond their immediate needs of survival, and the sciences flourished as universities, made opulent with government gold, opened their doors to the general public. The emergence of fledging public spheres across the nations of Valoran promoted heated debates often held in pristine courtyards, with appreciative crowds forming around the oratorical. Young men and women, cleansed of the spectre of death that hung for years over their brows, argued passionately about matters of import. In a bid to harness this newfound thirst for knowledge, the Lightshield promoted a culture of meritocracy throughout Valoran, and the brightest minds of the generation were soon placed in key areas of civil governance.
However, despite all their advancements, not one of the philosophers, scholars or poets could have foreseen the fated throw of dice that doomed them all.
In the darkest of nights, unknown to all but a few, assassins scaled the ridges of Mount Targon, their agility an ode to the perfection of their art. The sleeping aspect was found in the temple of the silver city, and quickly dispatched, a vicious slash across a vulnerable throat ending a life spent in training. Pantheon's eyes had flickered open at the moment of his death, and a deep dread shone in his eyes before they went blank with the stillness of eternity.
A rumble shook the mountains then, and deep within a cave in the bowels of Targon, eyes that had been closed for decades flickered open as the chains that had held its power at bay for millennia finally broke. The cave had been dug with magic, and its height alone spanned twice that of Mount Targon herself. In the space offered by the earth, its width stretched out as far as the eyes could see, and yet the bulk of the creature housed within defied the logic of men. A serpentine head reared, and balls of liquid flame poured from claws larger than houses. The creature regarded its surroundings with a gaze that that saw the birth of universes, and it seethed with anger at the humiliation of its captivity.
With a contemptuous gesture at the roof of stone above its head, it summoned a dwarf star that split the mountain in two. Lava, liquidated stone that gave at the heat of a heavenly body, poured, flowing down scales impervious to heat. Freedom beckoned with its sweet call, and the ancient consciousness of the Star Forger answered. Two stars joined the first, and they circled the awakened celestial as he rose from the corpse of Targon. The cities of the Rakkor and the Solari lay burning, none of the hastily enacted shields proving sufficient before the heat of a newly birthed star. The temple of the Lunari, situated at the base of the mountain, lay shimmering in the moonlight, its shields barely holding back the might of Aurelion Sol. The aspect of the moon, Diana, held there, the power of the Lunari artefacts defying the strength of the newly risen god.
The nostrils of Aurelion Sol twitched, and it inhaled the magic-laden air of Valoran. Starved for millennia, the Aurelion Sol quickly absorbed the ambient magic in the atmosphere, and its body expanded, filling the skies of Runeterra. Unnoticed by the god, Diana screamed as the energy of the swelling celestial struck deep within her, shattering her shields and sundering her magic. Such was the force of the energy that the moonblade of the Lunari shattered, ripping Diana's arm from her body, and throwing the aspect deep into unconsciousness. Above, the body of Aurelion Sol shuddered with the joy of freedom, and a roar of starfire swept out from him – an unconscious, uncontrolled release of power that scoured Valoran, destroying the homes, cities, and nations. Staring up in the night sky, the god relaxed, and his senses tore into the universe in search of his children.
He stilled, for now, while, unnoticed to him, Valoran burned.