Nocturne

While all magic can be serious and inconstant, there are some forms of limitations that even the most skilled mages and wizards will evade, and with valid reason. For ages, the practice of “shadow magic” was all forbidden across Runeterra, for fear of reawakening the terrors it once unleashed upon the world. The most renowned of those terrors has a name, and its name is Nocturne.

Towards the end of the Rune Wars, frantic for victory, warrior-mages explored any power they could find over their opponents. Although no story names the first of them to hurl off their body and enter the spiritual kingdom, it is known that they appeared to seek one another not only on the battlefront but in domains shaped by their unconscious thoughts and sentiments. Unconstrained by the rules of physical reality, they competed in ways that more worldly minds could barely understand, even charming, subtle, etheric slayers to make their demand. Shadow mages seemed exceptionally experienced at such things—and so it was, for a moment, that they came to control the spirit kingdom, casting it into dusk.

This darkness touched the thoughts of mortals everywhere. It sapped their spirit and infected their aspirations, with unknown fears bothering them day and night, prompting some to engage ever more horrible acts against their kin.

No one can say whether all this distress created Nocturne from nothing or if it merely co-opted a lesser assassin-construct into something more stubborn and tedious. Still, the hazy creature that ensued was one of intangible form and fathomless terror. Nocturne knew nothing of virtue, honor, or greatness—it was fear made visible, with none of the discipline necessary to restrain itself.

This wicked creature cried within the spirit realm and set upon those silly, shifting mages who had provided it life, throwing in desperation for an end to its misery. It was in agony, and that pain made it harsh, but it quickly developed a taste for human fear. Time has limited meaning in that other place, but Nocturne pulled out every hunt for as long as possible, appreciating the prey’s distress before forming their life’s silvery twist in an instant. Soon enough, there were none given who attempted to enter Nocturne’s kingdom.

Would the result of the Rune Wars have been changed if the demon had not performed its role beyond the mist? It is arduous to tell for sure, but soon, what few survived, the wisdom of dark magic was secreted away, and its practice communicated the order of death in many realms.

Living now as a spirit, eyes burning with intense light, Nocturne has become a wicked reflection of the most primal dread of the many peoples of Runeterra. From the bustling downtowns to the dismal plains, from the most powerful king to the meekest peasant, the devil is drawn to any fault of spirit; it can turn into mortal terror and eternal darkness.

Confined in the spiritual kingdom, and with valuable few invaders to sustain it, Nocturne started to perish. The only thing familiar to the delicious feasts of despair it had once felt was when human minds unknowingly floated through the ether in the hours of slumber. Hooked on flows of magic to where the two domains divide—and where calm dreams can quickly become night fears—Nocturne gained a way to reveal itself into the wakeful world.