They say Janna was born from the air, a breeze of winter swirling into life. Other versions dispute that, and her origins have ranged from a typical rags-to-riches story to being a princess of the Void. Some theories even claim that she was born from the dying spirits of executed soldiers, cold and malicious from the beginning. Well, I can tell you that's all false. How do I know, you may ask?

I was born inside… a mother's womb. Like all the millions of other babies out there, I was born to a normal, middle-class mother and father who worried about normal, middle-class struggles such as taxes and education. As a child, I spent my nights buried under mountains of classwork issued by stern teachers; by day I was the shy, smart girl in the corner of the classroom. But all that changed one day.

That day, I discovered Eros, the wind spirit. It spoke to me within my dreams, nimbly dashing into my childhood imagination. That night the wind blew with a ferocity never seen before. The storm, centered on me, slowly encased the whole city. I was the eye, the center, the leader. Of course the storm fought back, but I bent it. I broke it.

Eros slowly developed more and more. He was no longer a mere pet or friend. He was part of me, part of the queen of the winds. And I grew as well.

This was all two thousand years ago. Since then, I have become nothing less than a deity of the winds. Floating through legends, a scholar of the past. I was there for the great fall of Shurima, when the mighty emperor Azir fell and his city crumbled into dust. I was there when the great queen Avarosa, my best friend, was killed. It changed me, forcing me to delve to knowledge as an escape. I was there for the creation of city-states, the construction of the city-states. I chose Demacia, for it reminded me most of my old home, Icatha. The splendor and glory was still there, but the hearts of the men were not ruled by logic. Instead, pride and arrogance was their motivation.

Power can never get anywhere. There is no possible gain through anything but knowledge, which constructs and shapes our universe. And until that day arrives, the day where the universe's mysteries spill themselves into my hands, I will keep on searching. And if I unearth ancient legends and curses on the way, so be it. For knowledge is the ultimate tool, and I will stop at nothing to gain it. Absolutely nothing.

Some call me a machine, some heartless. None of those can accurately capture the extent of my abilities. I've played the compassionate mother, the loyal and obedient scholar, the cruel and ruthless assassin. But I have just buried the human, the weakness of the little girl before. That was then. Now, that is lost forever, contained within an impenetrable shell of knowledge and logic.

I will discover the secrets of the Ancients. Even if it involves the harm of my daughter, that pitiful wrench. At least she's not weak, but she hasn't inherited any of my brains, it seems. The key to the power behind the Ancients must be mine, and I have the lock. Elise hasn't broken yet, but that's the thing about locks: They can be broken. They will be broken.

-Excerpt from Janna's personal journals, recovered after the remnants of the Third War.

The people are worried. The sun sets earlier than before, and the Great Beasts are awaking, roaming the polar caps and devouring tribes. So far, my people have been relatively safe, but I fear this may not last. My oracle has just sent in the final bone readings from the Mist. The Black Mist grows stronger. It cannot be escaped, awakening legends not to be tampered with.

I hide the key within the frozen tomb. My sisters are getting more unpredictable by the day. Serylda yearns for war, riding her sacred boar and aggregating the nearby barbarian tribes. Just recently, we've had three separate instances of her skewing a tribesman with a spear for "infringing on her personal space." I fear conflict if this remains longer.

She's not the real problem, though. Lissandra has been experimenting with ancient magic, causing avalanches and freak blizzards to appear around the wild. When confronted, she didn't reply and tries to deny it. I require assistance immediately, Janna. Lissandra has always been unpredictable, and I fear this may be the end of our tentative alliance together. It has been stirring up talks of voodoo, of the ancient ways being revived amongst my people.

Janna, I know you study this in Icatha, where peace and prosperity are enjoyed. But please, please remember your roots. Remember your home. We are on the brink of collapse, and if the Black Mist pushes any further, my sisters will create the bloodiest civil war known to humanity.

Reply soon, Sister of the Winds.

-Retrieved from Janna's house, dated 1500. Text is written on parchment that has endured harsh temperatures.

Black Mist harrows at my doorway every morning, creeping through the cracks. It seeps into the spirits of my men, turning them astray from the old ways. A new group has arrived, calling themselves the Watchers. My people are trusting of them, but I do not. This coincidence, of them moving in with the Black Mist, it is too lucky, too much chance. Our Master fortold this, back when we trained together under him. Do you not recall?

Janna, my sister, it is time for you to return. Serylda has left, off to seek a new kingdom in the far North, where even the harshest blizzards cannot keep her thick skull out. The people are agitated, and it would do you much good to come. I heard your reply in the last letter, but please reconsider. I know how important your studies are to you, but don't abandon me, like the other did… The Fist of Shadow, leaving us to seek her own revenge. I cannot survive much longer, and my life spirit barely sustains the harsh Freljord. If it collapses, civil war and blood will reign. It will flow from the pores of men dying on the battlefield.

-Avarosa.

Badly ripped by magical object, dated 1505, two days before the death of Queen Avarosa.

Stir. The ancient voices beckoned, moving her closer. Stir up the people. Awaken us, young Lissandra. She couldn't resist it. The power glowed beneath the ice, flickering red and shining with a glowing power. And the only thing separating it from her was a thin sheet of ice.

Snarling, she gathered her wits. Her sisters had warned about this, but what did they know? Avarosa was always in the spotlight, the calm, powerful queen of the Freljord, while Serylda was renowned as the most ferocious warrior of the North. And what was she, Lissandra? She was the useless third sister, the one who would never live up to the other two. Until now.

She smashed the ice open, unleashing the spirits of legend. They wrapped themselves around her and visions flooded her mind. Visions of her tribe, her sister Avarosa encased in a shroud of ice, puncturing her lungs. She saw a bloody civil war, men stabbing each other in the gut and grunting, their lives fading away on the chilling ice. And she saw chains of corruption spread through the land, embracing continents and cities within its icy grasp. It couldn't stop, she couldn't stop it. And she didn't want to. Finally, she wasn't just a sister. She was power.

And then she appeared. Avarosa, her cursed sister. She appeared right behind Lissandra, firing a bolt of pure ice at the sister she once thought she knew. But it faded away. Shocked, Avarosa backed up.

"Sister, it's been too long." Lissandra sneered. "Now it's me who has you at mercy."

Avarosa raised a hand. "Lissandra, you don't know what you're doing. We can fix your heart, mend it, save you."

Her eyes flared for a second, and burning flames danced in them. "But I do. It's you who needs saving."

After the deed was done, Lissandra tested her powers. It flexed and jumped, but couldn't exit her body.

That bastard. She looked down at her sister's body, impaled with shards of sharp ice. Using her life force to trap my powers, something she would do. A life for the good of others.

She frowned as she walked away. That was a major inconvenience. The Watcher's plan would have to wait.

Janna read the letter once, then twice, then three times again. How could this be possible? Avarosa, dead? She remembered back to training…

"Janna, come play with me and Rika". Avarosa's voice spread across the platform.
Janna looked across, shocked that anyone would want to play with her. She had come to the Master just to train, to learn how to control her powers. But Avarosa's game looked so fun…

Within minutes, the three girls were sitting happily in a circle, gossiping about the most recent news. Avarosa blushed. "Guess what happened to me yesterday?"

Rika leaned in. "Did he… Really?"

She giggled, a high pitch foreign to my ears. "Yeah. Shen kissed me behind the training mat yesterday. Ohh he was soo handsome."

As I sat there, gossiping the afternoon away until Master called us back for training, I felt the most alive I had in my life. This was how life should've been.

Until she left. Until that day when Rika packed her bags and kamas and left, in pursuit of a distant enemy. Suddenly, their trio was down to two. Avarosa grew more distant, leaving Janna alone for long periods of time, but they were still inseperable. Just like sisters…

Janna felt a tear slide down her eye. How could this letter have not made it to her? She would've left immediately, but now… Avarosa was dead?

She brushed her tear away and resigned herself back to her papers. She would avenge Avarosa. She would find out who controlled the Watchers. And she would personally rip them into shreds, even if it was the last thing she did.

She discovered the truth soon. After all, she is my protégé, my own pupil. It would be a real thriller to meet her and her daughter, Elise, in my lair at the same time. Both working for the same cause against me of course. Avarosa was so close to discovering the real truth that I had to have her killed. But as Janna's path and her daughter's intertwine, it's going to click. Oh, and of course, my little brother. Yasuo, Elise, Janna, Akali. Welcome to the end of the world.

-The Master

Hi :{ This is a quick interlude that I wanted to do cuz it was fun :P It's basically a narration of the history behind Janna, behind her enemies, her goals, as well as offering some fun backstory into the events of the Freljord. (NOTE- THIS WAS 1500 YEARS AGO WHEN JANNA WAS A WEE TEENAGER)

I'm probably gonna do another one of these soon, as I feel as though they are really fun and can enhance the story, which is a bit confusing :'( That means… Please review if you want any specific historical events developed! Thanks for reading.