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Prelude
It was long past midnight. The mountain-top village was silent and still, save for the flickering and crackling of the massive fire that burned nightly in the large pit in front of the temple. The Solari never left their houses during the night except for the senior acolytes, who tended the fire periodically. They feared the night - felt lost without the sun's guiding rays spilling over them - and so they hid from it, cloistered in brightly-lit rooms as the moon ran its lazy course across the velvet sky.
A pair of pale eyes caught the firelight, glinting eerily in the darkness for the briefest of moments before their owner ducked her head and scurried into the night. Once far from the ever-burning flame, the girl's paced slowed to a more relaxed jog and her white-blonde hair glowed softly in the gentle rays of the full, fat moon. Her steps brought her far from the village, and with each stride she felt stronger, more sure of herself. The moon was so bright that it lit the rocky trail beneath her feet as she made her way to her favourite spot: a bare cliff on the north side of the mountain. It faced away from the Solari, away from the raucous Rakkor settlement miles below; standing there, she could pretend that she was truly alone.
She stared out into the darkness at the grey and black landscape created by the pale cascade of moonlight. Far away, a river twisted through the heavy night and shone like a white ribbon in the gloom.
The young girl dropped to her knees and raised her eyes to the moon.
ðˠɫ
The young boy dropped to his knees and raised his eyes to the moon.
"Tha's it, boy." A heavy hand dropped onto his head, clumsily caressing the matted tuft of dark hair. The large man's other hand moved to his belt and began unbuckling it. The boy tried to stand, but the man above him forced him back to the ground with a drunken grunt as he struggled to release himself from his trousers. "S'ay there," he warned, swaying slightly and tugging roughly on the boy's hair.
He didn't wince. He didn't show any sign of discomfort; he simply stared at the full moon above, nearly eclipsed by the buildings around them.
The man finally managed to complete his task and returned his full attention to the young boy below him. Vicelike fingers tightened their hold on the boy's hair as the man pulled his face towards his groin with a sloppy, desperate moan.
There was a sudden flash of silver as the boy produced a blade from his boot. The man screamed in agony, stumbling backwards; the boy leapt to his feet and slipped away into the shadows. In the dark, dead-end corner of the alleyway, the boy climbed to the roof of the building he'd been pressed against moments before. Below him, the now-chaste man lay in a growing pool of his own blood, hands clutching at his nethers as his screams blurred into the strident soundscape of Noxian nightlife.
The boy dropped into a crouch to remain unseen, his eyes sharp as the bloody blade in his hand. He stowed it again and returned his gaze to the sky; to the full moon above him, who had so often lit his path and granted him vision in an otherwise dark and cold city-state.
It was long past midnight.
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A.N.
Randomly came to me today - the idea that Diana and Talon grew up in semi-similar situations of isolation, where they may have formed a connection with the moon watching over them.
We'll see how it works out~
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